The remarkable qualities of The Red Shirt.

Somewhere aboard the cosmonipple, the Vagendra of Manocide listened to one of her science officers. She had several due to their tendency to explode when faced with excess masculinity. Today they were presenting a report on the captured uniforms.

"It's material, it's red, that's about it really. As body armour goes, it is useless and wouldn't even stop a determined mosquito, let alone a phaser on stun. There is no differentiation between genders and it comes in, according to the barbaric labels, six or more sizes. We have samples from medium petite through medium medium to medium large. No medium hambeast or medium landwhale, which might be explained by the Manliance Spacefleet's fitness requirements. We tried it on some hapless volunteers and they noticed no ill effects beyond the usual spontaneous suicidal tendencies the volunteers in the pits usually have. Statistically speaking, the ones who were made to wear the red ones were 27.5% more likely to die under mysterious circumstances but that may well be due to statistical variation, more testing is required but with the shortage of volunteers that is on hold.

"In short, these uniforms are nothing special and we could easily fabricate our own in the factories of Empress Spandex.

"I see, and the underwear?"

"Unisex diapers. Remarkably absorbent and washable, far in advance of anything we have in the child production pits. They can even contain the entire discharge of one of the orgasmatron victims. Up to and including the point where she exploded. Remarkable stuff. We have sent several to Empress Spandex to see if we can reproduce such things as it would make it easier for spies to infiltrate enemy ships. As we have no officer class uniforms, it is uncertain whether they wore anything different.

"Thank you, dismissed." The Vagendra examined one of the uniforms, the unisex diapers were lovely and soft, "a moment."

The two words that could cause involuntary bowel movements when coming from the mouth of their most fearsome captain.

"Captain?"

"Where did we get these uniforms?"

"Salvaged from dessicated bodies recently found in space at the site of a disastrous fleet battle several years ago. The enemy captain's Cocknowledge maneuver resulted in terrible casualties and the decimation of both fleets. It was one of the deciding battles of the first war against the Manliance."

"Strange that there are no officer uniforms."

"Indeed, we searched very thoroughly, the only intact uniforms were red, we found a few ruined ones that may have been green or gold depending on the lights and half a blue one."

"Very well. Carry on." The Vagendra took the costume back to the Captain's Wombroom and examined it at leisure. It was a far cry from the Hive Collective's uniforms. No leather, no rivets or stainless steel crotch plates. (Regular steel for the rank and file, Platinum for Captains.) None of those infuriating high collars and shoulder pads that made turning ones head incautiously incur an involuntary ear removal. Disposing of her uniform she paraded around her quarters naked, but the lure of the lovely soft clothing was too much and she tried it on, extra medium petite was just her size.

So of course, an interruption interrupted her most private speculation that these uniforms were the key to the Manliance's ridiculous manliness is everything society. She opened the door onto the bridge and looked out across her massive captainly podium of looking down on her crew and the nice captain's chair made of all the swords.

"Captain! Our spy's report has been decoded! They believe the true purpose of the HMS Upskirt is to capture a certain personage and viscously marry her to prevent the breakup of the Manliance and the Bunny Nation. An Ensign by the name of ... Truly Lovelyjugs."

The captain looked at the interloper, "Is that so." She looked at the forward screens. "Wormholes are one way plot devices. One can only leave the same way one enters. And when they have to leave, we will be waiting for them. Unless of course, it's a double plot device, someone check the script. Helm, make haste for the wormhole, we must thwart this dastardly plan and secure more funding for another season."

"Um, er, captain sir, ma'am! What are you wearing?"

"I'm not really sure. I'm seeing if it will help me understand our enemy." The Vagendra of Manocide plucked at the material curiously. Certainly it was lighter and the lack of the ear slicing shoulderpads that made it trivial to sneak up on the wearer was a distinct benefit to say nothing of no cold metal downstairs that caused any number of problems. "We shall see. Five minutes in the Orgasmatron, Mistress-at-arms, the first officer was just leaving."

"But captain!"

"You didn't knock."