A Thrilling episode.

Those of your who still haven't tasted the glories of space battle are of course, wondering just what is so special about this legendary Commander Seymour DickLogic and how exactly did he win the war against the uglies with a single manoeuvre.

Captain Seymour Dicklogic had been dispatched to defend the rear end of the fleet from attack. His command was none other than the very latest ship in the fleet, the M.S. Wangplank. One hundred and thirty thousand non-metric tonnes of glistening duralumin battletug, festooned with enough knob-lasers to make any uglies approaching think twice about being cut into a thousand quivering blobs. Towing no less than three hundred of the pertest and shiniest vessels the fleet had ever built. Each one filled with the finest most chiseled recruits the fleet had been able to buy in the shops.

Due to a minor miscalculation with the Mark V Manspreader Drive, the M.S. Wangplank dropped out of the sub-aether some one hundred light jiffies shy of their target. Instead of emerging in a far orbit around the planet Areola, they materialised in the shadow of its first moon, Nipol. Almost a radian off centre and thirty gradians off axis.

Their unexpected appearance was unexpected. This was to be expected as it had not been forseen, but what it provided them with was a side view of the Uglies' Wangbender fleet which would be invisible to their own fleet as they were in the sun, diving at the unprotected rear of the advancing fleet in an elongated formation not entirely unlike a straight banana with a big lump on one end. The Knob-Cosh Formation favoured by The Uglies towards the end of the war.

With much furrowing of teeth and gritting of brow, Captain Seymour DickLogic promulgated his legendary maneuver. The Cockblock Maneuver would separate the enemy Knob from the Cosh, rendering them impotent and unable to perform. Ordering all the vessels to detach and plunge into the enemy fleet. Not the Knob at the front for that contained phenomenal battleships like The Supreme Snalg and the equally fearsome but less well known Astra and Flondrix. No, Captain Seymour DickLogic's maneuver was too subtle for that, he had no intention of wasting lives taking on full blown battleships with his battletug. He would come in behind them and cut them off from the rest of their fleet. Particularly the Cosh and its gigantic cockships that carried the negatonium fuel for the prime battlecraft.

Negatonium was a staggeringly powerful fuel in those days, its kaboom per imperial kilogram knows no equal. It is also a ferocious enemy. This is why ships of yore used to only carry just enough to get the job done, any extra was a liability. Modern ships of course use much safer fuels like Negatonium-Plus in an atomically reinforced spooge.

Having identified the cockships, Captain Seymour DickLogic ordered all his newest and pertest ships to thrust into the enemy fleet with all their potence. Destroy the soft underbelly and even the stiffest of battleships will wither and fall. Especially without fuel.

Clenching his eyebrows and furrowing his fists with white hot fury, Captain Seymour DickLogic ordered the M.S. Wankplank into the fray. Its glistening knob lasers firing directly ahead as it cleared a path into the throbbing core of the enemy fleet. Detachting and hurling pert and shiny ships through the gaps to inflict maximal mayhem. Hurting and maiming the enemy with the surgical precision of a Space Marine Boot (Type-3, toxic planet, high gravity, pinky-russet camouflage.)

The M.S. Wangplank's thrust broke through into the soft core of the enemy fleet with such power that it collided with one of the two largest cockships ever, The Big Right One. Only the fact that it was a battletug and thus covered in enough hardpoints to tow two hundred and thirty seven ships protected those inside the rear end from the impact as the entire front of the M.S. Wangplank deformed.

This was the decisive moment of the battle. Captain Seymour DickLogic's plan called for maximum maximums. Ship board recordings contain the most captainly ejaculation ever: "Fire the Priapic Torpedoes!" And the closest thing to mutiny to ever happen under his command, an unnamed ensign is heard to scream, "but captain!" A pained noise that cannot be made out clearly, and then that deathly calm of manliness beyond the most manly of men. So manly that whole squadrons swoon at the mere thought of thinking of such manliness. "When I say, fire the torpedoes, I mean, fire the torpedoes." And a "boop!" noise.

The boop that is only made by one device on any ship. The Captain's Big Red Button.

The entire protective covering of the M.S. Wangplank was destroyed in the explosion which ruptured the hull of The Big Right One. And the rest, as they say, is history. Negatonium and matter equals energy. It does not matter what the matter is, be it Ugly ship, or well, pretty much anything actually. Negatonium is like that, it has the attitude of an angry father with a shotgun. However, unless said shotgun rips molecules into component atoms, atoms into protons and things, protons and things into quarks and those squiggly things, the shotgun really isn't as dangerous. Energy is released. A lot of energy is released, Astroparapsychologists have paroxysms of pleasure levels of energy is released and only one thing can survive this. Priapic torpedoes though, that was the icing on the cake of destruction. Punching, no, thrusting magnificently they drilled clear through the cockship before detonating, they collided with other ships and imparted shocking vectors. The other cockship was directly behind.

The enemy fleet was destroyed in the fires of molecular devastation that rivalled even the fiercest of suns. The Battleships at the front of the fleet were unable to turn to protect their backside and were destroyed by the ferocious shockwave that compressed free space to the point of fusion.

The M.S. Wankplank limped out of the Cockblocker Manoeuvre missing almost ninety percent of its hardmounts and with only three lasers still functional. All that was left was to scan for survivors.