During one of my Milab abductions I learned of yet another devious plot the deep black military and it's malevolent ET cohorts were about to launch on humanity in order to deceive everyone. I was infuriated.

If I get mad once a year it's a lot. When I get really riled up? May the Lord help anyone in my path.

Including myself because I have a tendency to go off without thoroughly thinking things through, as I did in this case.

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I won't go into how I did it...let's just say I got my hands on an alien Grey ship and took off hell bent for Lexington to warn our Commander about what our adversaries were up to. Had I thought things through clearly I would've simply telepathied him the information. Mind you, I'd never met our Commander...but I'd heard everyone loved him, that he showed in every way possible how much he appreciated all of the volunteers working under his direction.

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At any rate, I took off hell bent for Lexington to warn him about what the Looserferians were up to this time.

Mind you, there were a few major battles going on up there at the time. OK, maybe more than a few.

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What I remember most vividly is having the pedal to the metal, knowing if "they" caught me at what I was doing, they would certainly kill me in very short order.

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I was standing at a semi circular control panel, dark pewter in color with small multi-colored lights inset into the panel. Below them were alien symbols. I had absolutely NO CLUE as to how I knew how to so expertly fly this ship, but one controlled the ship by passing their fingertips over those small lights in certain sequences. By all rights, I should've crashed and burned 10 feet off the ground but something inside me knew precisely what to do in order to fly this craft.

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The ship was disc shaped. The interior was a seamless dark pewter color as well, illuminated only by the light from the small control panel lights used to steer. Ahead of me was a viewing screen that was visible only from the interior of the ship. The starfield was flying past me at warp speed.

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I never looked down to see what I was wearing. I only know it was extremely lightweight, one piece and very form fitting. I was too focused on getting to the command ship ASAP to worry about what I was wearing. And I had a lot more to worry about than clothing...

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I was hoping the command ship crew were on their toes. I was in an adversary's ship and I hoped they'd scan me and realize one of their own was piloting it and not pulverize me to space dust. The command ship came into view...and a fleet of smaller ships came pouring out of its flight deck.
OH OH, I'm in trouble! I thought.

But they didn't pulverize me into space dust. They escorted me safely the rest of the way to the ship.

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As I climbed out of the ship I was met by the commander of the fleet that had escorted me that had climbed out of his ship. He reminded me of a California surfer that looked like he couldn't have been more than 20.
I had to keep moving, deliver the intel and return before "they" figured out I was missing and came after me.

"Outta my way, KID!" I said to Surfer Dude, shoving him out my way.

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The Commander must've been informed he was about to have a visitor as we met each other halfway.
I filled him in on what I'd learned. 

He stared at me for a moment before shouting "ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED WOMAN?!!"

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Wait...what? THIS was the Commander that appreciated his crew so much?!! I'd just risked life and limb to bring him the intel I had and I wasn't out of the woods yet.

I spun around and headed back for the flight deck, shouting "You're welcome, A**HOLE!" over my shoulder,

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"Escort her back safely please," he instructed Surfer Dude.
Surfer Dude fell in step behind me.
"I don't need any damn escort," I told him. "I got here on my own, I can get back on my own."
Surfer Dude started heading back to the Commander.
"No, I want you to escort her safely back," he again instructed Surfer Dude.
Surfer Dude began heading back in my direction.
"Commander? You can take your escort and stick it where the sun don't shine!" I shouted back at him.
 

Poor Surfer Dude was like a tennis ball at Wimbleton running back and forth between the Commander and I. But he eventually did end up escorting me back safely, only because I was now out of shouting distance of the Commander.

 

Now years later, all three of us laugh like hell about that incident. But even after laughing about it, the Commander always adds "It wasn't funny!" Yeah, it was.

 

Who was Surfer Dude? Mikael.

And the Commander? You guessed it!