Thrust 4.

"You know what I like about your ships?" The Vagendra of Manocide asked, flushing the toilet and admiring her reflection in the mirror next to the cosmogalactishower cubicle. Now with added thrust, she tossed the apron out and started brushing her hair. "Flush toilets! So modern! We still have space latrines."

"Some of the redshirts have their own litter boxes now." Captain Seymour DickLogic peeked in the bathroom, "no, the red cosmogalactirazor is for you. the shaving foam is-" he looked in the cupboard and found a red tin that claimed to be girl polish, for getting it really smoth. "try this."

"Towel?" She stepped in the cosmogalactishower and was amazed that there was no propaganda playing what so ever. the glass walls blurred even the naughtiest of lollies and the controls lit up on the surface. What amazing excesses of technology. No taps at all, not even one. Except maybe that icon. She touched the button for FWOOSH and vanished in a cloud of spray.

The mancave door opened and a woman came in, Weapons Officer Tiffany Bangbangbangkaboom came in with a bundle of clothes. She peeked in the bathroom and completely failed to recognise the medium lolly. Despite her portrait being on every propaganda poster in every Navel base in the manliance. She wasn't one for posters. "You're going shopping, with her? Is that safe?"

"Don't worry, I'll protect him," The Vagendra of Manocide accepted the proferred towel and started hiding her bits.

"You?" The woman asked incredulously, "how?"

"Yes, me. With a hair-bobble. Stock up on research probes too."

"Why?"

"How are you going to science the hell out of anything when you run out of research probes?" The medium lolly asked as she examined the extra medium lolly sized battle shorts and the woman pointed to the buttons, explaining that they went at the back for some reason. "Are you sure this is underwear?" The woman held out what looked to be a pair of incontinence panties. "No, no, I'll keep these. I'm sure officers can be trusted not to leak at inopportune moments. I'm going shopping."

"Captain? How many research probes?"

"A surfeit." Captain Seymour DickLogic wonder why he had atomic hair curlers in his mancave, let alone ones with the depleted uranium knurled adjustors! "No look, give her the medium lolly battle teddy, not ensign nappies."

The Vagendra of Manocide approved, it had strawberries on. She watched the woman leave to see how much of a surfeit she needed for an extended mission into The Dangerous Zone. The answer being, of course, a surfeit.