The barren wasteland was blasted by two mini suns that made life nearly impossible on the dwarf planet Cratar II.
The inhabitants who lived there managed to avoid being detected by other civilizations for eons before The Intergalactic Conglomerate arrived. Meanwhile the inhabitants advanced science had allowed them to track other civilizations which they carefully chronicled.
DAY ONE
Our mission leader Captain Blake was the first to spot the tunnel. Big Beef and I squinted our eyes for a few seconds before we saw the opening in the side of a rugged mountain range that stretched as far as the eye could see into the far horizon. It looked like we were in for a long walk in our bulky atmosphere-controlled spacesuits. We walked in a single file with Captain Blake confidently leading the way. I was behind Big Beef who stood seven feet tall and weighed 320 pounds in earth measurements. At five feet tall I was the runt of our trio as Captain Blake stood six feet seven inches tall.
We were all weighted down with survival gadgets and weapons. Because of the very low gravity environment things seemed weightless. Every small bounce we took a plume of dust blossomed around our feet obstructing them temporarily from view. I made sure to stay several feet behind Big Beef who was stirring up clouds of dust with every ponderous bounce he took. I began to lose sense of time when my thoughts were interrupted by Captain Blake’s voice coming through my speaker system. “This is it!” he said with obvious pride. “Lock and load boys” he called out merrily and plunged into the darkness of the tunnel like a hound dog onto the scent.
DAY TWO
My head was pounding so hard when I woke up that I barely remembered what happened when we entered the tunnel. Blurry images of men screaming and the sound of gunfire danced around my throbbing skull as I blinked in the dim light provided by a torch on the wall directly across from me. The room was cavernous and cold. Someone had stripped off my spacesuit, and I just had my pants and short sleeved t-shirt on. No socks. I tried to get up and walk around but found that my feet were bound together with a heavy rope. As I struggled, I felt a sudden presence in the room and heard voices chanting just before I involuntarily passed out.
DAY THREE
When I woke up, I vomited violently. I felt drugged and groggy when I suddenly heard Big Beef’s harsh voice echo through the dark corridor outside my room. There was no door. I heard Big Beef roar in rage and pain, and I came out of my funk. I didn’t know what I could do to help in my hapless state. After several hours I heard Captain Blake’s curses and screams that went on for what seemed to be an endless time. Then dead silence. I waited for more. Time crept by and I fell asleep hungry and exhausted.
DAY FOUR
When I opened my eyes, I expected another unpleasant surprise. Instead, I was greeted by two of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. And they were smiling at me! The blond walked over, knelt and pulled out a long knife and proceeded to cut off the rope around my ankles. She stood back up and joined her friend who was cautiously surveying her every move. I slowly stood up as the muscles in my legs screamed from their confinement. I told them my name was Little John as I swayed slightly trying to keep my balance. They seemed amused at my condition. I thought about the screams I heard the night before and wondered if those two sirens were involved. Then the dark-haired woman produced a tube with an opening on one end and gently squeezed it. A pale paste came out. She dipped a slender finger in it and brought it to her mouth in an exaggerated mime of eating. When she handed me the tube, I didn’t hesitate and squeezed its contents into my gaping mouth. I figured if they wanted to kill me, they would have done it by now. It was oddly fulfilling and I slept with a fully stomach that night.
DAY FIVE
The next day the two women came back accompanied by a half dozen well-built men who were content to let the women do the speaking for them.
I had to ask what happened to my comrades?
The blond bluntly said they were dead.
Why? I stammered.
The dark-haired woman said because they were humans who are our ancient enemies.
But I was with them. Why not me too?
Because you’re a Martian.
Are humans really that bad? I asked.
Let’s put it this way… they don’t even have their own planet anymore because they’re so crazy. The survivors of their nuclear holocaust were scattered about the universe. Your race is intact because you learned how to live with your celestial neighbors. When humans show up bad things happen.
Why have you held me prisoner these past days? I boldly asked.
The women looked at each other and then at the men standing silently listening to the conversation. The blond then explained to me that the men didn’t see me as a threat. More importantly the blond blushed, I think your cute!
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The Creative Chronicles of Dave Stancliff 