Stewart sat at his desk, staring straight across into the eyes of Lieutenant Colonel Anderson. It wasnt the first time theyd met, but the situation had never been as important as it was now.
Anderson wore his uniform as if it were straight out of the box. He always seemed to be prepared, just in case his superiors were going to drop a surprise uniform inspection in his lap. Even with the incredible dust storms thrashing the planet, he seemed in impeccable shape, as if no excuse was a good excuse for a speck of dirt.
Stewart, on the other hand, was the benchmark for slovenly appearance. He wore a haggard, week old beard underneath his sloppily addressed coif. His dress shirt had coffee stains, his tie was dotted with ketchup, and his lab coat was anything but the pristine white of its initial issue. But then, Stewart was on an isolated planet, in an isolated research facility with little or no life importance given to cleanliness of attire or presentability of appearance.
"So, he's ours now?" Stewart asked with trepidation.
"First, we dont know whether it's a he or a she. If you could find that out, it'd be great. Second, consider him on loan from the Museum of If You Screw This Shit Up Consider Your Job Lost," Anderson curtly replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some off-planet business to attend to."
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