Crash Landing Sucks

Crash landing sucks, but at least we're still breathing. Well, at least I am. Alora doesn't breathe, but a quick diagnostic check showed her systems functioning at optimal levels. We checked the star cruiser next, finding minor damage. If it weren't for the fact that our dylanium deteriorated when we ran into that solar storm, we would have been able to fly off this primitive planet without any trouble. But our dylanium did deteriorate, making our star cruiser as useful as a paperweight. 

Dylanium is a fairly ambiguous mineral on planets with oxygenated atmospheres, but unfortunately, not all planets with oxygenated atmospheres contain dylanium. Take Earth, for example. It contains zero, zilch, nada. This planet looks like Earth, but it better not be exactly like it, or we're screwed.

An extensive scan of the area revealed a small amount of dylanium not far from here. In a heavily populated city. Not the best place. Remote and desolate would have been better, but beggars can't be choosers.

But before we could go looking for the dylanium, Alora pointed out a more pressing problem.

"We need to discover what type of clothing, money, and language the locals use," Alora said. "We'll never get anywhere near the dylanium looking like we do."

"Any suggestions?" I asked.

"We must secretly scan their attire, record their language, and scan their money. Once we enter the data into the replicator, we'll be able to blend in."

"That's a good plan, but I think we should head out now while we have daylight."

"Negative. I need to go alone and retrieve the necessary data."

"But I'm the captain and I say we go now."

"How do you expect to evade notice in broad daylight? Are you trained in reconnaissance?"

She had a point. I'm a surveyor, not a spy. I have no idea how to evade notice.

"Are you trained in reconnaissance?" I didn't want to hit below the belt, but sometimes a captain has to put his co-pilot in her place.

"I've fought in twenty-four wars."

"Twenty-four, you say."

Can anyone say dumbstruck? I had no idea. What kind of android did they assign to me? It took a moment, but I collected myself. No matter how many wars she fought in, the company made me captain, and as such, it was my job to lead.

"I still think we should go together."

"I don't see how your plan will work. My plan has a one hundred percent chance of success."

"I'm sure my plan does too, and even if it doesn't, it's what we're going to do."

We put on our chameleon suits: a lightweight outerwear made of hexagonal digital scales that bend light in such a way as to make the wearer match their surrounding landscape—basically making us invisible. We armed ourselves with stun guns and scanners for collecting data.

Alora activated the star cruiser's chameleon shield to hide it from the locals and retracted the ladder just in case. We wouldn't want a local snooping around our ship if they happened to walk through the shield.

It only took an hour before we came upon a family farming their land. Alora motioned for me to turn on my suit. Which I did, but she didn't have to tell me; captains give orders, not co-pilots. She had already turned on her suit and began recording their conversations. I got close enough to scan the oldest male's clothing. The scanner quietly did its job, but regrettably, I did not. My foot kicked a small rock across the old man's path. He noticed and paused.

He looked around, puzzled, then called out to the young man near him. I didn't need to know the language to guess what he said. It probably went like this, "What the hack was that!"

Although the suit makes me invisible, it doesn't stop me from kicking rocks. I stood still, afraid to move.

Alora came to my rescue. She shook a small tree near her. It did the trick. The two guys shook their heads and returned to work, believing it must have been the wind.

That wasn't my finest moment, but a leader must shake it off and get back to work. I carefully made my way to the house and quietly scanned the woman's clothing while she washed clothes in a huge stone pot. Now, when I say quietly, I mean real quiet. I didn't even breathe. However, that proved to be a bad move. Forced to gulp a large amount of air, the intake made more noise than I would have believed if I weren't there to hear it. The woman stopped washing, jerked her head, and stared right at me. I've got to stop doing this.

Crazy thoughts enter my brain when I'm super stressed, and I'm super stressed right now, so I actually thought about booing like a ghost. But then the thought of Alora chewing me out for speaking made me forget the stupid idea. I don't even know if the locals believe in ghosts. So instead of booing, I backed out of the house and almost made it to Alora before tripping on a shovel. I never saw it. The thud of my 180-pound, six-foot, one-inch, clumsy body resonated throughout the little farm. It sounded like an earthquake to me.

All three locals stopped and stared at the shovel, which had moved quite a bit when I tripped over it. I crawled on my hands and knees from the crash site until I reached Alora, who pulled me to my feet.

"I told you." It's all she said to me until we made it back to the star cruiser.

"You know, I am the captain," I said while waiting for the ladder to lower.

Alora waited for the ladder to extend fully, then climbed into the ship.

She didn't talk for an hour. She downloaded her recordings into the ship's mainframe and began translating. By the sound of it, she cracked the local language. After that, she grabbed my scanner, without asking, I might add, and downloaded my scans into the replicator.

I was surprised when she began replicating money. I never scanned any.

"How did you get scans of money?"

"While you were gasping for air, I took the opportunity to scan some lying on the table. I made it back to the tree while you were tripping all over the place. I don't know how we didn't get caught. You certainly tried hard enough."

"Ever since my boss assigned you to me, I've been playing second fiddle. You're a better pilot – oh, and by the way. Thanks for saving us. It was the best piloting I've ever seen."

Alora is incapable of being surprised, but I think I got her this time. She thanked me, then waited for me to continue.

"Where was I?" I asked.

"Second fiddle."

"Yes. You're a better pilot. Better spy. Better linguist. Better fighter. And I'm sure if I thought hard, I could find dozens of other things you're better at. It's maddening."

Alora softened her expression, not an emotional response, but a calculated one. "I apologize for making you feel inferior simply because you are. I could find different methods of performing that will not upset your ego."

What did I expect from an Android? I shrugged my shoulders and laughed. "My ego thanks you."

Night came, and my comfy bed called to me. We'll have to get some dylanium eventually, but for right now, Alora pretending not to be better than me, and a good night's sleep sounds like a win in my book.