The Primal Cosmogalactibase.

Previously, after a bad case of battered base, our heroes boldly split infinitives (between episodes, to save you the horror) and are now arriving at ...

---

Captain Seymour Dicklogic furrowed his brow and surveyed the fleet. "That's more like a base station." He didn't recognise the fleet at all, but hopefully it wasn't his. He had enough responsibility with a nymphomaniac.

"It's the Spinward Marches Primal Cosmogalactibase. Full of various battle blimps, dirigibles and at least one hot-air balloon." The science officer chimed cheerfully, Now if only he could get the Communications Plaything Slime Dispenser to sit still.

"I've never heard of any of these ships..." The captain looked at the list on the bridge teleprompter.

"Understandable sir, you destroyed pretty much the entire fleet at the battle of Meatandtwoveg. Both fleets were obliterated and destroyed. We've been rebuilding ever since, between wars too."

The First Officer perked up, having been dragged onto the bridge by an unsuspecting redshirt. "The history books say 'decimated'."

"Decimation implies something survived." The Science Officer restrained the Communications Plaything.

"Boot to the Head survived."

"Captain Leap never showed up at the staging point, something about losing his towel." The Captain noted, "what happened to the naming scheme we used to have?"

"Too many ships to replace and the Cosmogalactinavy never recycles names. I have a copy of Jane's Book of Ships That Have Not Been Destroyed This Series if you're interested." The science officer handed it to Slime Dispenser.

"The Random Name?" Captain Seymour Dicklogic grunted, pointing at the teleprompter. "Pilot, take us in, but leave the engine running in case the script writers go jet-engine-wombat on us."

"That's a Demi-junket." Communications Plaything Slime Dispenser squeaked, staring at the page in question. She looked at the teleprompter, "The Goat of Glory?"

"That is from the punctuation accident in season one, it caused lots of confusion," Doctor Firm Posterior noted breathlessly. "Before we settled on HMS Upskirt."

The pilot pointed to one, "Amazing, they haven't wrecked Superlative Superposition of Suppositories. And The Green Bauble is still flying."

MOOLATEK!

"Well, floating around malevolently. They never did fix the steering." He finished lamely. "It's named after the rock band. Let's just say the crew are a bit weird."

"you can talk." the co-pilot grumbled. "clutch is sticking again."

"Sorry!"

"Look, a sloop rigged double-dingy!"

---

The bridge crew admired the concourse, as befitting a cosmogalactibase, it had a ridiculously high ceiling designed to disintegrate at the slightest excuse, depressurising and killing everyone who wasn't already dead.

Captain Seymour Dicklogic stared at the uniforms, this was beyond mere clenching of brows and furrowing of fists. He felt Wensleydale with barely restrained rage. He grunted manfully. "Are these merchant navy or something? Only the last time I saw that many tassels flying in formation I was gooned out of my hammock on war medicine." He pointed.

"I am afraid the captain is in for a shock, that is The Fleet 2-Beat."

"Oh, I like that one. Functional, manly, smart yet comfortable."

"Sir, that is your reflection." The First Officer pointed out.

"And?"

A group of foppish louts were drinking their hydrating solution at a nearby bar and staring. "Hahaha, look at that horrible old uniform. So last week-"

"Last year, I mean, look dudes have no tassels!"

"No gold braid!"

The Science Officer, still stuck with Communications Plaything Slime Dispenser who wouldn't let go of his hand stretched, "May I?"

"Be my guest," The Captain admired his reflection and the remarkably pointy bosom of Doctor Firm Posterior as she turned to watch the show.

"Yes, terrible isn't it. Not only are we stuck in The Spandex Era, but our uniforms aren't even remotely ablative! None of our tassels are impact sensitive either."

"I feel so naked without tassels." Slime Dispenser experimentally pulled on and was surprised to find they were held on with elastic braid of remarkable fortitude. At a nudge from the Science Officer, she released it. "For science?"

The tassel detonated on impact with its wearer. The force spun him around and over the table, to land heavily.

FOOM! BOOM! KERPUFTIE! "Multi-kill!"

The explosions kept coming as more and more tassel wearing gold braid touting uniforms became involved in the excitement.

"Monster kill!"

The entire bar vanished in a fireball, sending unfortunate officers flying into the crowds.

"Unstoppable♥"

"Whee!!!!!!!!!"

FOR SCIENCE!

Captain Seymour Dicklogic had drifted away to a quiet and well armoured shop to peruse the wares with Doctor Firm Posterior. "What's all the excitement?" he asked cooly, because to run around screaming like everyone on the concourse was unmanly.

"I believe the SO is teaching the redshirts the essential mechanisms of nuclear physics with the help of some officers."

TASSELSPLOSION!

"Kya!"

"I wish my science teacher had explained Brownian Motion so graphically. Then I'd know what it was." Captain Seymour Dicklogic lamented.

"But you do."

"Oh."

"I wonder what the green flares are." The Doctor pointed out, They appeared to be coming from the far side of the concourse and it was really quite exciting out there.

GRONK!

"That ship looks nice, the one with all the red fireballs bouncing off it." The captain suddenly wondered if they were his redshirts or someone elses. They were pretty low on redshirts and one of the main reasons for visiting the Cosmogalactibase was to stock up for a few episodes.

BLINGE!

"That is..." The doctor consulted her handly Cosmogalactikindle that doubled as a portable script reminder and teleprompter. "Two Fruit To Loose."

"Not sure I want to go there." Captain Seymour Dicklogic relaxed to watch the explosions.