The Gun Deck of Happiness.

Captain Seymour DickLogic furrowed his fists and clenched his perfectly chiseled brow as he waited for his entire crew to form up on the enormous gun deck of the H.M.S. Cockhammer. How could he survey his crew if they were not there? The Cockhammer was a brand new experimental battletug built explicitly for explicit testing of new sciency things like dual-turbo lasers and those things that made zap noises in space.

"We're ready sir."

But there were no red shirts. "Where are the red shirts?" Captain Seymour DickLogic asked.

"Sir, here sir!" the empty deck chanted.

"Sir, the gun deck is red so enemy spies can't see how manly our men are," the first officer explained, wishing he was somewhere else as it was clear that the captain was having a senior moment. But then, such a decorated Captain could be forgiven a few foibles after so many resounding victories.

"Good morning crew," Captain Seymour DickLogic surveyed his crew. Damn, that tactic was good, he couldn't tell if there were ten or a thousand red shirts down there. "As soon as the Cockhammer is fully loaded, we will be setting sail on a five year-"

"Month sir, month." the first officer corrected.

"~mission to boldly search and destroy-"

"Explore sir."

"~enemy ships in parts of space that no one has bothered to explore before, penetrating deep into the Panchira Quadrant to seek out and destroy enemy ships-"

"Science sir."

"~to seek out and science the hell out of enemy ships in the name of mankind!" The Captain started to get up thrust. "Our eventual target will be the twin black hole system of Pleasure and Pain where we will test our new weapons of destruction-"

"Scientific instruments, sir."

"~where we will science the hell out of any Hive Collective ships we may find. Until we run out of science!" He glowered at the first officer and considered red shirting him, but only briefly, first officers were essential vitamins to the ship systems. "This will be the first test of the new advanced sub-aether drives with the new advanced foreplay and rear play systems that will take us harder, better faster stronger and more thrustier into sub-space. Thus enabling is to evade enemy ships in the name of Science!"

The science officer nodded approvingly, for reasons known only to him and the weapons officer Tiffany Bangbangbangbangkaboom, he was looking forward to some science.

"Cargomaster, what is the state of our load?"

"About half Captain. We are half-cocked. Six more hours until we are fully cocked." Double entendre was lost on the cargomaster, he thought it was when you got an extra ration of grog.

Doctor Firm-Posterior rushed over, her chest heaving as her space onesie struggled to restrain her magnificent mountains. Grasping the bright-pink space-microphone in both hands she breathed huskily. "Space Rabies shots available immediately after dismissal. Don't forget to keep your shots up to date!" she panted breathily before leaning on a perfectly chiseled shoulder trying to get her breath back.

"Dismissed! Anyone found skipping their Space Rabies shot will be put on outhouse cleaning duty for the duration."

Already there was no one on the gun deck. Painting it red was a masterful move.