Originally posted: ZogBlog::road less traveled, on September 29th, 9:04a EST.
Years from now, I'm working in US intelligence and am the world's foremost expert in , on-call 24x7 for the times when my country needs me.
We (the human race) have been experimenting with new engine technology and have been exploring the solar system for years. Some of the real high-tech stuff has allowed us to venture outside of our solar system and return. The tech is working, but the power for these systems doesn't allow for interstellar travel just yet. All we can do is move into the starlanes, and back.
Anyway, our super-secret research vehicle mounted with said engine while on a routine pop out of the solar system encounters another ship. Our very first encounter with Aliens. Our ship approaches them cautiously, attempting to communicate and offer up gwannap-weep ninnibon (see Transformers: The Movie for more info on the universal greeting). Unfortunately for our intrepid explorers, they blast them out of space.
As you can imagine, we had been monitoring them back on earth (my guess is with several relay stations in between each with varying levels of autonomy. This sends the entire intelligence community (not sure why NASA wasn't involved, but maybe 9/11 causes all funding to be diverted to intelligence - and NASA was pulled into the intelligence orbit) into a tizzy. This is where I come in. Blissfully unaware, I get the page just as I'm trying to get my SUV (now aging rapidly) towed away. I arrived at my SUV in a truck that I picked up to last until the repairs on my SUV were completed. I quickly place everything (personal affects) back in to the SUV that I had been diligently removing (to place in the truck) - and attempt to push the SUV off to the side of the road.
I of course need permission to leave this longterm, as that's apparently what's about to happen. The pager that went off is my deep space pager... and I could potentially be sent off to our Pluto research station (this could take weeks, even with the new engines ;). An old Navy friend happens to live there and has no problem with me storing the vehicle (he must know something about the importance of what I do).
Into the truck I go, exiting the neighborhood. As I come upon the beltway (I'm guessing I was just east of Burke, VA), on the entrance ramp, a woman stops me, asking for a ride. She's cute, but I have to get to DIA(?). I apologize profusely (why? I dunno.) But she is insistent, racing to the other side of my truck (which has magically transformed into my SUV). I start to take off, and she just runs alongside, pleading with me. At one point, I'm up to 25mph. She has to be in a sprint, but she seems completely unaware of the speed. Apparently, her dress gets caught in something... and it is ripped quite badly, but she is un-deterred as she spins with the rip (I'm apparently watching my rear-view mirror)... and the dress comes right off. This reveals...
... a slip that just looks like another dress. This one is black with some sort of large flower pattern on it.
That's when I woke up. Unfortunately, I didn't get to save the human race.
Maybe tomorrow night. Haha.