Authors note: Originally published on /r/enliteantal. The author is a Rank 5 Enforcer, working for Utopia / Pranav Antal. If you don't know who Enforcer Zaan is, pray you never find out!
CONTAINS ADULT THEMES fnar fnar fnar!
CONTAINS SWEARING. er. It did contain swearing, now it doesn't. There might be some odd gaps. I'll replace with 'fluffyduck' and you can do the parsing yourself. Sheesh.
---
Ok, I'm going to be honest - I've been working for the Feds.
Wait wait wait! Don't call Enforcer Zaan just yet! No! Put the blaster down!
It's ok - I had a good reason, and I learned some very valuable information! The reason, as if you can't guess, is to get my hands on a Core Dynamics Corvette. A few thousand tonnes of lethal Federal Warship - available only to the highest-ranked Federal operatives.
That's what they say in their incessant 'Emergency Newscasts'; which happen about as often as Gippsworld Methane Pig emits methane.
Which brings me to the information I learned - that the Federation is a pack of very well armed, dangerous MORONS.
---
The Corvette is available only to 'the highest ranking, most trustworthy, Federal operatives'. Apparently I am one of that number of Elite Commanders, of which there can only be about, oh, 76,213 at a rough estimate. In a society were the lowest Biowaste Positional Relocation Engineer ranks as 'Fleet Commander' if his Biowaste cart has more than one wheel, this is not a difficult feat to achieve.
It is however, very boring.
My rank in the Federal anthill they call a 'Navy' is entirely accidental. I received my first rank promotion when I opened a pack of 'Space-Snax - the Crispy Snack That Puts HyperTaste On Your Tongue' accidentally when I was looking for a Neutron Flow Reverser for my vintage Cobra Mk3 - back in early 3301, I think. My next rank was part of a spam email from Galactic Readers Digest. For memory I got the rank of 'Midshipman' as a bonus for getting my 100th docking collision fine at Eranin. Getting Federal Navy rank isn't hard.
I had ignored it for some time though, and I was only a Commander. I had to be a Rear Admiral (Stop sing up the back there!) if I wanted a Corvette. Surely being promoted to Rear Admiral would take a display of courage, cunning and strategy? Single-handedly taking over an entire Imperial Majestic-Class Interdictor? Not quite, as it turned out.
I flew out to Lebedev Installation in Col 285 Sector YF-M C8-8, on a tip-off that there was Federal work out there. It's a long way out, so I took my trusty old Cobra Mk3 "? SYNTAX ERROR" as she needed a good run, she's been in the garage at Polevnic for far too long since that nasty incident with the alien ship that left goo all over her Port engine cowling.
Anyway, when I got there, I found that my source was correct (for once: CMDR Rohan EDward DITmar is not the most trustworthy source!) and there was a large amount of work available, and all of it was carrying Federal Communication Data! Between Col 285 and the nearby Niu Hsing I could fill my ship's databanks each way; with the added bonus of being able to transmit petabytes of decrypted Federal comms back home to Polenvic! It not only paid quite well, but the perverse bureaucratic clusterfluffyduck that is the Federal Navy gives you rank for carrying messages. Yes, you'll gain rank if you do your paperwork properly!
However it is VERY boring, and not even my collection of Djagged Banner neurodiscs could keep me awake. I got so desperate I decided to read some of these messages.
"URGENT NAVY ACTION: Citizen has left porch light on. SEND COMBAT SQUAD IMMEDIATELY
rder2999/4///3alpha/triplicatecopy"
"IMMEDIATE SUPPORT REQUEST ALPHA: DEPLOY FLEET. President Hudson has lost holocom remote down back of couch. RESPONSE TEAM SIGMA GO GO GO. DELTA SQUAD MAINTAIN OHS SAFETY PATROLrderZZ9pluralZAlpha"
"ALL STATIONS EMERGENCY. Lost combat boot report in Reagan's Legacy Delta Pavonis 3. GALAXY WIDE STATE OF ALERT. CONDITION MAGENTA"
"hellommmgimtpyingondaddys computamatronthingy hhhahaha my sistre smels leik poo hahahah"
"Hello Good CMDR. I am President Zachary Hudson of the Federations of Planet and you might of have [COMMLINK_AUTOGRAMMAR: 'have' is correct in this context] herd of my fine stature and bearing. I have 999,999,999,77635,!23445 Credits in the Bank of Zaonce, but I cannot withdraw them without alerting the Senate Investigigating CCoommiittee. You being of a Good Status however can, and I can offer you 1.773% of the proceeds of the transfer. I need you to do this simple task fine CMDR of emailing me your BoZ Credit DNA Access Code and the keys to yr starship. Kthnxbai."
"Not long enough? U need ANNACONDA brand. Plz email makemelonger@delacy.lave.com"
rder2999/4///3alpha/triplicatecopy""IMMEDIATE SUPPORT REQUEST ALPHA: DEPLOY FLEET. President Hudson has lost holocom remote down back of couch. RESPONSE TEAM SIGMA GO GO GO. DELTA SQUAD MAINTAIN OHS SAFETY PATROL
rderZZ9pluralZAlpha""ALL STATIONS EMERGENCY. Lost combat boot report in Reagan's Legacy Delta Pavonis 3. GALAXY WIDE STATE OF ALERT. CONDITION MAGENTA"
"hellommmgimtpyingondaddys computamatronthingy hhhahaha my sistre smels leik poo hahahah"
"Hello Good CMDR. I am President Zachary Hudson of the Federations of Planet and you might of have [COMMLINK_AUTOGRAMMAR: 'have' is correct in this context] herd of my fine stature and bearing. I have 999,999,999,77635,!23445 Credits in the Bank of Zaonce, but I cannot withdraw them without alerting the Senate Investigigating CCoommiittee. You being of a Good Status however can, and I can offer you 1.773% of the proceeds of the transfer. I need you to do this simple task fine CMDR of emailing me your BoZ Credit DNA Access Code and the keys to yr starship. Kthnxbai."
"Not long enough? U need ANNACONDA brand. Plz email makemelonger@delacy.lave.com"
You get the idea? The Federation pay you thousands, sometimes hundreds of thousands of credits to haul this across space.
I had a great deal of fun re-encrypting it all with a much stronger Utopian cipher and beam it all narrow-cast towards that research station out Maia way. That should given them something to think about!
After nearly two days of this I was done; bored nearly to death. That self-destruct menu item was starting to look tempting, when a message flashed up in my Comms.
"FEDERAL NAVY PROMOTION TO REAR ADMIRAL. Good job, CMDR Honry Praunquerberry. The Federal Navy has promoted you to the rank of Rear Admiral."
Of course, I'm CMDR Henry Passionfruit of (lately) Polevnic, not 'Honry Praunquerberry of URANUS' - always remember to use a false name in Federal space; they have computers you can see from orbit trying to track you because you didn't fill in form 2227Q/Z/96 back in junior neuro-programming.
Cool. I've been schlepping comms for two days, mostly drinking the profits, leaving nasty big scratches in the docking bays, and mailing the Lebedev Installation Senior Landing Controller a pair of my old socks with a love letter signed by Zachary Hudson.
I couldn't get the taste of Cabrera Claim "Ale" out of my mouth quick enough; and I was back in Polevnic in time for tea & crumpet.
---
I had the rank, I had the credits; now I just had to go and buy a genuine Federal Navy Warship. What to wear? Well, the Djagged Banner t-shirt over my casual in-flight Remlok suit with the leopard-print and glitter of course! And my best slouch hat with an ostrich feather in it (not made from real ostrich or slouch!). What to fly? Ah, the only option: my original Sidewinder. I haven't flown it for years, but it's been kept up on blocks and I made sure the headlight fluid and left-handed sparks are always topped up. It just needed the Neutron Flow Reverser replaced (Congratulations CMDR! You have now been promoted to GRAND ADMIRAL OF EVERYTHING!) damn, wrong box again.
Have a look at the holopic of the "10PRINT'FUZH';20GOTO10" - isn't she a pretty little thing in her yellow-with-red flames paintjob? She's so economical too; I just have to remember to check there's enough fuel and fill up the oil each time I fly her.
I left Tanner Settlement with the course set for Shinrata Dezhra, half a tank of jump fuel, a full pack of StimStix and my copilot perched daintily & delightfully on my lap, and wearing my Joo-Janta2000 Peril Sensitive Sunglasses. HIT IT!
Eleventy-trillion jumps later (well, it seemed like that many) I got to Jameson Station, landed, and casually slouched into the Federal Military TOP SECRET CORVETTE SUPPLY SHOPPE & BOUTIQUE with my copilot in one arm and my other giving the flunky behind the desk a Full Rimmer salute.
"Yo, my man" I said, taking a wild guess at the gender of the flunky. "I'd like a Corvette with the works, to go. I gotta flow like da spice, so be nice, not slow, bro!"
"SECURITY ALERT! COMMANDOS TO SECTION OSCAR TANGO JULIET IMMEDIATE LETHAL FORCE AUTHORISED!" was indeterminate flunky's reply.
"Chill the fluffyduck out dude!" I casually remarked, "I'm the new Admiral, dig?" and waved my brand new Rear Admiral lapel badge. It didn't get the response I wanted; flunky now drew a sidearm and pointed it at me.
"NOT ANOTHER MOVE, PUNK!"
I frowned, and looked at my Rear Admiral badge, which turned out to be a slightly soggy beer coaster from the RIGHT ON CMDR BAR & PIE EMPORIUM down on level 7/5. If you're ever there, pay them 15Cr more for the table; I'll pay ya back later, Scout's honour. Also tell Helga to stick with the dirndl; leave something to the imagination! Where was I? Oh yes, being treated as the latest threat to the Federation; actually not far from the truth, to be honest!
"Ok, look, big misunderstanding - darling, would you kindly...?" My copilot didn't say a word, but produced my new Rear Admiral lapel badge from... wherever it is she keeps things (she's inflatable after all) ... and hands it across to the intense flunky. My copilot doesn't bat an eyelid, she's always so cool under pressure.
"Honry Praunquerberry, ESQ, OOA, OOP, Enforcer of Utopia, American Society of Variety Artists, Master of The Scrolls (oo-er) and .. REAR ADMIRAL OF THE FEDERATION NAVY, NIU HSING FLEET??!"
"Yep, that's me!" I gave the flunky my best 'I'm only slightly crazy; I use Onionhead to come down' smile.
The flunky drops her (I'm sure its a her now) sidearm dejectedly on the desk, and his (no, it is a guy) shoulders slump.
"Oh those fluffyducking morons."
"Ah, you must mean the Niu Hsing Federal Navy bureau." I add, helpfully.
"Yes, those fluffyducking morons. You're the 93rd Rear Admiral we've had this week." she collapses into her chair (nope, woman. for sure) and leans forward to bang her head on the table.
"Well, you do have a prat for a President who keeps issuing daft orders to make it look like the Federal Navy is huge when it is really just ONE Farragut Battle Cruiser with an OLED nameplate, and all that cash has gone into his Bank of Zaonce account"
"So you know about that too, huh?"
"He sends those emails to everyone@milky.way.galaxy.com you know"
"Yes," he sighs (its the hands always a giveaway) "Yes, he does. I suppose you'll be wanting your Corvette?"
"Right, and " is as far as I get when there is a loud BANG from behind me and the office dura-plas door blows to smithereens. Seven vacuum-armoured assault troops storm through the swirling smoke, assault railguns pointed at me, except for one confused trooper who is covering the pot plant in the corner.
"FREEZE, VERMIN!"
"I'm a bloody ADMIRAL!" I yell (you have to, you can't hear a thing in vacuum armour). The flunky yells "He's another bloody Admiral". (You can never tell with Shinratans - she's a she!)
"ER, SORRY"
"That's 'SIR sorry SIR!'" I yell back.
"SIR! SORRY SIR! IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE I CAN DO SIR?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact there is, could you please move the Sidewinder in bay 42 to the Station Commander's bay please? Just dump the Commander's Annaconda out the slot, there's a good chap."
"THAT.. THING.. IS YOUR SHIP? SIR!"
"Yes, why?"
"THE DOCKMASTER WAS LIVID THAT IT WAS LEAKING OIL THROUGH THE WHOLE DOCKING BAY, AND THE OWNER LEFT A TRAIL OF LAVIAN BRANDY BOTTLES ALL THE WAY TO 'RIGHT ON CMDR BAR & PIE EMPORIUM'"
"Oh, the one with that lovely barmaid Helga? Doesn't she look great in a dirndl?" chirps the flunky (ok, I give up, could be anything. Would look good in a dirndl with Helga though, whichever way he/she goes)
"YES THAT ONE"
"LOOK I JUST WANT MY BLOODY WARSHIP!" I'm getting annoyed now. "My copilot here is rapidly running out of air, and if I find out that is anything to do with you SERGEANT I'll have you in the first slave pod the Biowaste Pools of Faceces DO I MAKE MYSELF PERFECTLY FLUFFYDUCKING CLEAR?"
"SIR CLEAR PERFECTLY FLUFFYDUCKING SIR! YES SIR!"
"Good! Get out of here, and take those restrainers off the potplant, trooper" I add. Us Utopians care for all forms of life, even Federal office potplants.
I turn back to the flustered flunky, who is looking oddly at my copilot, who in turn is resting somewhat more languidly on my arm now.
"Is she?" she gestures
"An AI? No. She's just an I. I'm well aware that AIs are illegal - for good reason - and my copilot is very clear on the fact that she is in no way whatsoever artificial. She's as real as you or I; therefore is not an 'AI'.
"But she's..."
"Inflatable. Yes"
"She's gorgeous! Does she own a dirndl?"
"Look, am I going to get my Corvette or are we going to RIGHT ON CMDRS BAR & PIE EMPORIUM for a drink?"
And that's how two days later I got my Corvette.
True story.
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