But we are in space!

"Oh most spandexiferous splendidity, supreme ruler of The Octagon, Keeper of the Celestial GLURK!!!!!!!! Please don't strangle me today!!"

"Next honorific and you go out that window." The young woman sitting in the chair waved at the enormous window right next to her.

"But we are in space!"

"And your point is?" She noticed her fingernails were getting sharp and pointy. That would never do.

"I bring a secret message marked for your eyes only."

"How do you know it says that?" She looked down from her dais and realised that she might need glasses, he was fuzzy.

"I- I- I- I was told by the secret department of secrets!"

"Very well, read it."

"But, but, O Vagendra of Manocide, it's for your eyes only. If I read it-"

The woman glanced to one side, "Science Officer, can we remove his eyes?"

The science officer, like many of the bridge staff who had lasted over three episodes, was used to the vagaries of leadership. Indeed, The Vagendra was far more reasonable than some. "Of course, but it's messy and we just waxed the floor. Perhaps if you were to read it with your own eyes?"

"Waxed? Very well, worm. You may approach. No, no, on foot. I don't have all day, there are imbeciles for that." She cast a meaningful glance at the far corner and the department of accounting. She rescued the scroll and noted that it was indeed, sealed and would only open to her fingerprint. She unrolled a bit and started reading, "Dear Vaggy,"

"Vaggy!"

"Captain, ma'am, your lips are moving-" The science officer risked certain death most gruesome for daring to chastise their grate leader, The Supreme Ruler of the Planet of Bunny Girls, The Vagendra of Manocide.

The woman stared at the scroll, reading it and trying not to make a sound. Words were hard. "Dismissed, worm."

"Thank you your most sparkly-" He bolted for the exit.

"No running. Running implies lack of adequate planning and time management. In short, incompetence. Walk." The woman ordered, not raising her voice at all. You really could hear a pin drop. Except on the waxed bits of floor, where the thin layer of polish absorbed the sound and stopped the blood soaking into the beautiful inlaid woodwork. "Mistress-at-arms, see that he is shipped to the planet of porridge by parcel post."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am!"