|Copyright Danny Bowman|
Checking his internal chronometer he confirmed he’d now spent seven of the local days cold, wet and miserable. Central Command postulated he could gather valuable information on the natives’ infrastructure disguised as one of their primitive communications devices.
So far, he’d only been approached by two of these lesser beings and both of them had violated him in a manner most foul by stuffing metallic disks into an orifice of his most specifically not intended for such a purpose.
Not for the first time, he wondered if the penalty for abandoning his post was worse than the indignity of remaining.
This story was written for the weeklyFirday Fictioneers flash fiction photo prompt.