|Fifteen years. They had waited fifteen years on their ship into the worlds beyond. They were sent to find life, but they found none. They had been sent off course one too many times, and their ship’s tracking system had been down for three years. Captain Parker was lost.
Of course he blamed Bruce, the ship’s navigator. Everyone knew, however, the true reason they were lost. It was because of the captain. Now they were just about ready to give up. But then something happened. On the ship’s radio, there was the faintest sound. It was not louder than a small mouse scurrying along the floor. It was a language that was unrecognizable, mainly due to the static. There was, however, one word that could be deciphered correctly over the rest. It was “Parker.”
Somehow an alien race knew the captain’s name! Parker commanded the crew to move forward towards the planet that the transmission seemed to originate from. It was lush and green, a perfect place for a civilization to thrive. It was there that they landed.
This newfound planet contained many furnishings that would suggest a great civilization. Across the vast plains and forests there were villages, towns, cities. Flags blew high in the wind marking the nationalities and clans of the world. Skyscrapers towered above the world of deep space.
And there was war. It was obvious that this planet had been ravaged by war and terror and destruction. Several cities burned and oceans ran black with oil (or what they thought was oil). Large expanses of desert lay barren where it looked like a forest or a city should be.
The crew was beginning to get worried about this new land. Parker made this loud and clear. “I fear that this a society that has lost all of its former beauty and charm.
The men here have changed, they have long lost all sense of pride or of humanity.”But there was one wise advisor on that ship. “No, men here are just the same. As long as war ravages the land, we have no need to fear any change in men.” Parker heard this, he contemplated this, and he landed.
The landing spot was a mountainous region. It was cold here, and the air was breathable. Barely so, but breathable nonetheless. It was decided that an expedition must be set out. Among those released were captain Parker, Lt. Cory, and Pvt. Jordan, the ship’s advisor. They carried American flags. And guns.
It took two days to trek down that mountain. They only carried with them a week’s provisions, and not much to keep out the bitter cold. When the day came that they reached the base of that mountainous hell, they were greatly relieved. But they would not be so in several moments.
They walked a while after hitting the bottom. The company entered a village. There were dark-skinned men there, and they had guns. Guns that were, as Parker would later remark, strikingly similar to those wielded by humans. Parker hailed the men, and a battle began.
The party had no choice but to fire back and run, alien men running and screaming in an unknown language after them. It took the company only a day to trek back up to their landing site. Parker was furious, Cory was exhausted, and Jordan was dead. The ship arose, and the technicians let loose the nuclear bomb that had been readied for fifteen years. The nations of the world became confused, and a nuclear war had begun. Within minutes, the planet was no more. Just a lump of rocks in the middle of deep space, with a moon. And on the moon there was a flag. A flag with thirteen stripes and fifty stars on a field of blue, limping proudly on that windless, barren world, a grand echo of the land that it represents.