Captain Seymour DickLogic
19118 ~
TV
19118 ~
"Captain darling, wake up!" A cute feminine voice requested. Not the sultry tones of Doctor Firm-Posterior who was, for some reason, asleep on the giant soft toy cat that hulked in the corner of the Captain's ManCave with CamelCase. No, this was the voice of the darling lolly of the third season, the Vagendra of Manocide.
Wearing nothing.
"Daisy?" Captain Seymour DickLogic grunted manfully and stared, not at her naked naughty bits, because that was rude even if she was sitting on his head. He stared at her hair. "What happened to your hair?"
"Exactly."
The science officer was feeling under the weather too, so under the weather in fact that he had forgotten his capital letters. Even commuunications plaything third class Slime Dispenser was feeling it too. Under the weather that is, not it, that was for behind closed doors and after the cameras were turned off, unplugged and had lens caps welded on. They couldn't even manage an inappropriate giggle that would have had them sent to the orgasmatron for the full half-hour on an enemy ship-of-the-line. "I take it you have noticed."
"Yes, indeed I have." Captain Seymour DickLogic grunted manfully despite a girl redskirt sitting on his shoulders playing with his hair. "Cause?"
"Sensors indicate an azure hue inside the ship." Slime Dispenser showed the captain her portable sensor thing, "even with fresh batteries," she added hopefully. There had been a type-quokka incident the last time, so now the sensor bag had several sets of fresh batteries, a handy fusion powered USB charger that would also charge eight-thousand phones in fifteen seconds and a crater five hundred metres deep on any planet. But it was pink and she liked it.
By now, most of the dayshift crew were aware there was a problem, Even some of the traditionally bald ones. It was hard not to be aware, it was serious. Even if you were able to polish your head until people complained about the reflections. About the only other man on the crew that was immune to the problem was ship's cat manager, but he had prehensile eyebrows.
"It's coming from the holodisco deck. I mean, the holo deck disco... That way!" Slime Dispenser sagged. As they closed in on the source of the azure hue its effects became so pronounced that many of the less manly types collapsed from the weight of unprecedented hair growth. Male or female, the affliction was serious enough to weigh down even the cavemen like the master-at-arms and Weapons Officer Tiffany Bangbangbangbangkaboom, but she was hiding in her cabin wondering why her pet turbotic space hamsters were spherical and completely unable to get their hamster wheel up to the usual two hundred and seventy three revolutions per second.
It was then that they saw the only redshirt who had a natural one. He seemed unnaturally happy despite the scintillating rainbow effect that was lighting up the corridors all around him. "See, that's what I'm talking about. Don't you go ridiculing my hair now. Hey chick, nice hair!" There was something to be said for bright blue hair like that, and that was, "WOW!"
Daisy Jones waved at him. "Give that man a promotion." She whispered to her beloved Captain Seymour DickLogic. "Tell me, sir, how do you feel about mullets?"
"I quit," he rolled some poor redskirt into the recovery position and made sure she could breathe despite the hair.
"Two promotions." She decided, "carry on the good work." They watched him go, saving lives from the 'fro.
Two decks later they approcated, with Trepidation, the after deck that contained the primary holo disco. Lying all over the place were redshirts and redskirts incapacitated by uncontrolled hair frizz. All of them in the recovery posion. "Who was that man anyway?"
Captain Seymour DickLogic re-arranged his lolly, which caused a frightened squeak and a not-outside-the-bedroom gesture. "Ship's chaplain, high priest in the first church of quantum religion. Mister Dick Roundtree Shaft."
"Look at how he cares for his flock, can we promote him?" She asked, "I wonder if he'd join my fleet, that would be awesome. Assuming we can find it, they might have run away to It's a problem in the Hive Collective." Yes, it was a stupid name for a planet. It was a pretty stupid planet though, the surfing was unbelievable, so were the sharks.
"He would be the first Ship Pope in centuries."
"Make it so!" Daisy giggled, batting an errant microphone boom out of the way. Trepidation slumped against the walls, unable to see where she was going due to her unbelievably non-regulation hair. Unable to advance due to the friction of so much hair!
"Darling, why isn't it affecting you?" Daisy Jones asked, "could it be a type-2b plot device without capital letters?" The captain's hair wasn't long enough to plait and she had to stop to take exception to her hair with a pair of scissors. "My lovely hair is all frizzy and froey." At least it was still blue.
The holo deck ignored them, being a machine it was very good at ignoring people. The air around the entrance glowed a malevolent shade of azure hue, which was both impressive and worrying. Everything around it was azure hue too. Even the Redskirts piled in a heap near the toilets.
"I was not aware that the holo deck field extended beyond the double doors that go swoosh."
"I wasn't even aware ships had holo decks, what is this, a party ship?" Daisy poked a sign that had tried to behead her petulantly. It appeared to indicate that the correct response to emergencies was to run around in circles and scream. Go to the toilet first.
"The HMS Upskirt was repurposed from something else to be a Science Ship, it's why we have so many reseach probe launchers." The science officer groaned on the floor. He looked at his handy omniscreen, "The manual says we have to reboob the holo deck to clear out the accretion of excess azure hue."
Captain Seymour DickLogic grunted approvingly, reboob the holo deck. He could manage that. He took the handy omniscreen from the prone science officer and glanced at it, "Find controller, execute the reboob sequence. If that doesn't work, pull the big switch. Got it."
"It's too dangerous capsicain! The Robo-DJ has gone crazy!" A redshirt staggered out, all that was visible was her feet, the rest was a massive side effect. "The disco started going all funny after the robo-DJ played an awesome polka tractor remix of A pub with no beer and Errol," she collapsed and rolled over the science officer and down the corridor. The side effects didn't shrink though, implying that exposure was permanent.
BLONGE! "Strike!"
Slime Dispenser slid down the wall and bounced off the science officer, landing in a heap, "it's no good sir, only you can save the ship from negative disco entropy!"
Captain Seymour DickLogic manfully opened the doors using pure testosterone alone. Daisy ducked just in time to avoid the top of the door taking liberties. The second set of doors clocked her as they closed behind them.
The holo disco, an essential part of Manliance Battleships, used extensively for training, stress relief, exercise and hiding the bodies until they unbunged the space latrines. While the equipment could be used to simulate almost any sort of environment from an empty room of unbelievable size through to anything that could be programmed into the RNG system (RNG = Remarkably Nice Graphics) it almost invariably ended up running the disco. Everyone liked disco. Space Marines liked disco! It was also one of the few things they couldn't kill.
Apocryphal stories abound that a certain ship that was not in dock had programmed their holo deck to be a holo deck and caused the entire crew to disappear are, of course, apocryphal. Besides, The Bognor Regis crew probably just stepped out of the dimension for some furlough.
"Now what?" Daisy asked, the Hive Collective didn't have any discos. Not officially, there was that planet but talking about it was frowned upon. It was also reserved for the terminally ill and advertisers. "What is that noise?"
"Muzak," The Captain grunted manfully, it was loud enough that she had to lean really close to hear him and vice versa. Daisy was a worryingly attractive lolly too. "Can you see anything that looks like a control console?"
Daisy held out a hand, "blaster." On receiving the weapon of indiscriminate destruction, she turned the dial to eleven and blew up the largest mirror ball she had ever seen. "Holo deck controls, now!" she roared, not quite entirely unlike a hyper-kitten.
Everyone pointed at the robo-DJ. Bits of mirror ball were sticking to the horrible side-effects and turning several of the dancers into mirror balls with feet.
"That way," Daisy pointed, any mirror balls that came near her met with dramatic disassembly complete with sound effects. Many of the dancers were so far gone that they thought this was part of the show. On eleven, Daisy found, mirror balls disassembled rapidly but people just caught fire. The smell of burning hair was about the only way to tell real from fake. Until she accidentally shot an officer. His aftershave detonated. It did, however, temporarily cure him of the paralysis inducing 'fro.
The Robo-DJ looked up, a girl female of the girl persuasion in a red skirt was hovering in front of him. Remember, that for a robot, gender is just a flip of a bit and maybe change the groinal attachment. Oh fishnet! "Request?"
"Yes, I'm here to reboob the holo deck."
"Not with those you aren't." The Robo-DJ pointed with one of his hands that wasn't selecting strange black plastic disks from boxes all around him. The next one his thirty seventh hand found was the anthem of the Space Marines, disco-ed and polka-ed up to eleven. YMCA. Your Marines Killed Everything. He glanced sadly at the cover, but realised that speeling and other intellectual pursuits weren't a strong point in the Marines. But they could kill dictionaries and eat them before they got cold!
"That's why I have this." She pointed the blaster at the robot and he laughed at her, so she shot him. "What, you think I was taught never to point a gun at someone unless I meant to shoot them? Of course I mean it!" She admired the sparks shooting everywhere and spotted something off to the side behind some pulsating azure hue cutrains.
Despite being on fire, sparks shooting all over the place, the Robo-DJ kept playing the music, putting on some electro polka beats before looking for a fire extinguisher. The holo deck prided itself on accurate simulacra and glorious explosions. Even in the face of rampaging insanity.
Behind the curtain, the thundering power polka of the tractor revolution was muted to the point that they could actually hear themselves think. Daisy trimmed off the annoying frizz again and they stared at the console. "three finger salute?" they both wondered at the same time. There was no keyboard, not even a simulated holo keyboard. All they could find was an ancient arcade game cabinet inviting them to play: Holo Deck copyright 1986.
"1986?" Daisy asked, looking at her reflection and boggling as she could see the frizzy hair growing. "Up up down down, left right left right shoot shoot?" She wiggled the controls and pressed a couple of buttons and was rewarded with an amazingly loud fanfare and nothing else. Except her hair turned pink.
"I think we should just go straight for the power switch." Captain Seymour DickLogic grunted, he pointed at the monstrous knife switches on the wall, Just one of many. "Whoever thought putting AI into the holo deck needs their bottom smacking."
Daisy Jones made a mental note to check on that. She watched him pull on the huge switch, muscles of pure manliness bulging under the strain, and whatever that material was that they made the space-onesies of. With a fabulous display of air conducting electricity when it probably shouldn't, the switch opened and there was another loud fanfare. It didn't help that the robo-DJ was laughing at them playing a song about a shaft.
"It's just playing with us." Captain Seymour DickLogic rumbled manfully, furrowing his brow. He definitely preferred to survey his fleet than pick a fight with a crazy AI. He unplugged the arcade game and it vanished. "See?" Daisy asked who was stupid enough to put the holo deck controls inside the holo deck.
Starfleet! To save not space, but corners, for some reason the total number of corners on holodecks hat do be a prime number of non-right-angles.
Daisy went back onto the dance floor and climbed on the podium to talk to the robo-DJ and reason with him. Starting with shooting off twenty-four of his arms, "now you are mostly harmless, stop the music a second. You only need one arm to do that, I think. You have thirteen, but for how long?"
The Robo-DJ stopped laughing, well, not as loud since he only had thirteen arms left and she was trying to pull one of those off. He put a special black disk on and cued it up, "and now, by special request, the Space Goat remix of 4'33"."
The audience, the night shift crew that had now been dancing since the beginning of the episode were so far gone they couldn't tell the difference. Including four or five walking mirror balls and a giraffe. No space goats though.
"Thank you." Daisy smiled at the robo-DJ, "We need to reboob the holo deck, it's leaking all over the ship. The alternative involves gratuitous bodily harm to your personage. Over and above the call of duty. And turn my hair back right now!" If there was one think that Daisy really did not like, it was pink. It was actually high enough on her list that she had thrown people out the windows of her space ship for wearing it.
Meanwhile, Captain Seymour DickLogic struggled manfully with the holo deck. One of the big problems was that it could materialize anything, including replicas of itself. While Daisy had to deal with a second, even more awesome robo-DJ, he had to deal with power switches that were not real, exploding fuses that may, or may not have been real. And a remarkable number of 8-bit monsters getting under foot. He was cheating though, being a manly captain and thoroughly aware of his ship, he knew the rough dimensions of the holo deck and where the controls were. But getting there was a challenge. The 1UP shrooms were quite argumentative.
Suddenly the extremely loud silence of 4'33" was thrown into horrible perspective as rainbows blasted the doors off. "Ladies and gentlemen, the 'fro has arrived!" It was the ship's chaplain.
"Captain! Promote that man!" Daisy shouted, the distraction had been sufficient for her to give the new Robo-DJ a double nasal enema. Bits went everywhere and her hair glowed in sympathy. It was pink, which was horrible, but at least it wasn't azure hue. Or worse, azure-pink!
Captain Seymour DickLogic was amazed, the ship's chaplain's 'fro had no less than three apostrophes it was that impressive. It was also working. He could see the actual real physical door to the control room as the rainbows of power overpowered the power of the azure hue! "Mister Dick Roundtree Shaft, effective immediately, you are now the fleet pope. I hereby entrust you with the spiritual guidance of the entire crew. including all redshirts. Not sure about the script writers but we can worry about that later."
"Yes sir!"
The rainbow 'fro glow became even stronger. It overpowered the azure hue and Daisy could see the door two. "Your holiness, please bless the robo-DJs."
"Gladly!" Former ship's chaplain and redshirt mister Shaft went awesome.
The explosions were truly grolious. Mirror balls detonating everywhere as the holo deck tried to fight off an enemy that used it's own weapons against it. Fighting 'fro with 'fro, only with extra rainbow powers in no less than eleven colours.
"Oh, well done your holiness!" Daisy wondered what to do with her blaster, redskirts had no pockets. She glanced at the charge and ejected the PP3 before tossing it away. When she went back to the Hive Collective, she was going to get ship's pope for her fleet. That and revoke the long standing directive that banned 'fros. But pink was still straight out.
Captain Seymour DickLogic stared at the combination lock on the door, it really was one-two-three-four. He opened it and glanced at the controls before pushing the button that tripped all the breakers. Reboob hell, he had had enough for the episode. The panel promptly exploded as all the explosive bolts fired in sympathy.
Darkness, silence except for a few hundred groaning redshirts. "Let there be light!" The new ship's pope chanted, then fired the blaster at his own hair! Rainbow brilliance filled the enormous holo deck.
"Oh, so that's where number two hold went." Captain Seymour DickLogic grunted, "well done sir, you have saved the day. Better order some official robes from stores though.
"When I find that admiral that didn't want us to have a ship's 'fro, I mean, priest, I will lock him in the holo disco." The Captain sighed, Daisy swooned as his uniform was shredded and there was so much manliness on show that she melted.
"I just realised, isn't it reboob, not reboot?"
"It stays off. As soon as the Science Officer gets his capital letters back, I shall have him fix the holo deck. But I think first, we should have our ship's Pope bless the beer deck. Don't you?" Captain Seymour DickLogic needed a beer, a very large beer with his name on it, probably several. "It's a good thing we have no uglies scheduled this week. Your holiness?
"Scotch sounds good to me," he picked up a dazed redskirt covered in bits of mirror ball, "and her."
The Fleet Pope looked at the young lady with blue hair as they went out of the double doors that go swish, "in future, miss, please wear pants."
"Oops!"