Running the asylum | Stories from the HMS-Orion

[Y'berg]

Message Class: Audio-Visual
Subject: New "Rules"
To: The Crew of the Orion
From: Command Staff, HMS-Orion

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Since the recent increase of complaints of the Medical Staff, certain (and large amounts of) crewmembers, along with every other department heads , this list of extended (and still incomplete) rules deemed necessary.
From now on the following rules are enabled:

1: No, there is no ‘bring your daughter to work day’. No matter how cute she is, Lieutenant Dhatri.
1/A: Even if she’s a better pilot than half our Ensigns.

2: Removing Lt. Black's arm prosthetics and declaring him ‘armless’ will be punishable by a severe summary kicking.
2/A: Similarly, ending an argument by removing Enisgn Cole's leg prosthetics and declaring that he has no argument to stand on is prohibited.

3: Stop referring to the new pilots and deckmen as ‘cannon fodder’, ‘D-Class’ and/or ‘redshirts’. This is negatively affecting morale.
3/A: Personnel caught in violation of this order will be issued one red shirt one size too small, and be required to wear it for the next 24 hours. They are also considered off the combat roster.
3/B: Deckmen are not to be called ‘Tactical Ablative Armor’. Calling them ‘Taa-taas’ is also frowned upon, whether they know the meaning of the acronym or not.

4: The Freigher in dock 3 is for COVOPS and recon missions only. Do not use it for smuggling Cretan tequila onboard.
4/A: Command staff will confiscate it anyway.

5: Yes, the Freighter is technically a looted ship. No, that does not make us 'Freeboota Orks', nor does it make the engineers 'Mekboyz'.

6: Yelling "Bombs Away!" in the latrines is not permitted. Yes, we are on an spaceship. No, the plumbing system does not simply eject waste material into space.

7: Just because it fits on the Freighter, does not mean it is loot.

8: Just because you can drop it out of an airlock, doesn't mean you should.

9: Chanting DAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKA when using fully automatic weaponry is prohibited.

10: Alien Artifacts are not to be used for recreational purposes.
10/A: Even if they make great disco lights.
10/B: Powdering it and inhaling for narcotic purposes will be its own punishment.
10/C: Using them as "adult toys" is greatly discouraged.

11: Troops are to stop cooking bacon on the heat sinks of plasma weapons.
11/A: Even if it is perfectly cooked. All samples will be confiscated and disposed of.
11/B: This applies to all other surfaces not intended for cooking.

12: Crew members are reminded that Chief Engineer Diehle is perfectly capable of speaking "proper bretonian", as well as knocking all your teeth out with a wrench.

13: Any Officer caught playing “Chilong Tingtong” will have their punishment administered by Admiral Dagon herself.

14: Whoopie Cushions and other ‘noisemaker devices’ such as cherry bombs, party poppers and cap guns are now considered contraband.
14/A: Unveiling an entire box of tamagochi as they are dying is not the best of morale boosters.

15: Food service asks that you refrain from calling their chili "chemical warfare".
15/A: They also ask that you stop calling the beef cubes in barbecue sauce "soylent green".
15/B: We could make you eat the Chicken Surprise MRE. Yes, we still have them. Yes, we did save them from the Armed Forces purge of them. Food is food.

16: All personnel are to remember that some behavior deemed common and tolerated in a more military setting is also known as ‘sexual harassment’ in civilian workplaces, such as the science labs and engineering bays. Personnel are reminded that fraternization regulations are in place for the duration of the war.
16/A: In short; keep it in your f*cking pants.
16/B: Or as Commander Greer put it, 'this is not xxx.co.bret, boyo'.

17: The ship's armory is stocked with a wide variety of helmets built for almost any situation. Homemade Imperial Stormtrooper helmets should not be worn into the AO.
17/A:. This also applies to any other helmet not issued by the Armed Forces.

18: Crew members joining a rookie at a table just as they're finishing and asking them 'Would you like to know what you just ate?' are expected to clean up the mess.
18/A: Even if the answer is 'perfectly normal food'.

19: Personnel are to stop worshipping Commander Y'berg as if she were some god of war. Please refer to her as 'Commander', 'Ma'am or 'Sir'. Not as 'Master Commander', 'Empress of The Orion' or 'the Great Commandy One'.
19/A: Personnel claiming to hear the Commander's divine will are to be reminded that they have all received subdermal radio implants during their first week of induction at the Armed Forces.
19/B: Similarly, pilots are to be reminded that increased accuracy is more likely the result of the improved stablizers and tracking computers than 'the Blessing of the Great Commandy One'.
19/C: Despite the increased enthusiasm, Personnel are to stop referring to other vessel's crews as 'heretics', 'infidels' or 'worshippers of a false god'. You should be aware of the irony of that last statement.
19/D: Even if she were a god of war, attempting 'appeasement sacrifices' of half a dozen women sneaking into her room is not appreciated.
19/D/1: Even if they were all volunteers.
19/D/2: Even if the brunettes all dressed up as Commander Flameheart in dress uniform (or only in the regular uniform).
19/D/3: Even if the second group found out how to make Scout Armor 'look so sexy it should be illegal'.

20: Chief Engineer Diehle does not appreciate being referred to as 'The Great Maker of Cool Stuff'. Chief Engineer or Chief Diehle will suffice.
20/A: Nor does playing Gene Audrey’s “Here Comes Santa Claus” whenever he comes to the barracks for weapon testing volunteers.
20/B: Similarly, Lt.Cdr. Blackburn would appreciate it if the crew would stop calling him 'The Herald of The Great Commandy One'.

21: Attempting to induct rookies into this new religion (dubbed 'Commanderism') is forbidden. Especially if the initiation rite involves their paycheck, a rubber chicken, a stun gun, or any combination thereof.
21/A: Cease referring to crew members who take these orders seriously and leave the Commander-centric pseudo-religion as having been 'COMMANDEERED.'.

22: Our cheif of medical staff is called 'Doctor Becker', not 'Dr. Feelgood'.
22/A: Simirarly, our quartermaster is 'Lt.Cdr Watkins' not 'Sugar Daddy'.

23: Should not show up after a long range patrol for debreifing wearing parts of a Gallic flight suit, messily drunk.
23/A: Even if Commander Y'berg did it.
23/B: Especially if Commander Y'berg did it.

24: ‘We’re testing it for Diehle’ is an outright lie if the mission recorder starts with 'I hope Diehle doesn’t catch us'.

25: Despite operations which involve boarding enemy ships, hijacking their shipping and supplies, raiding their land bases and in all the above cases making off with everything not nailed down (and then bringing in a recovery team with crowbars and power tools), the Orion is not a pirate vessel, nor will its crew act like they’re part of a pirate crew.
25/A: This also applies to anyone caught with the following: flintlock weapons, cutlasses, muzzle loading cannon, parrots, peg legs, hook hands, golden doubloons, pieces of eight, eyepatches not issued by the Medical staff, Jolly Roger flags, tricorn hats and other prohibited pirate paraphernalia.
15/B: Even if you don’t look like a pirate, this does not mean that you can act like one.
25/C: Even if a pirate crew would be better disciplined than the current state of the Orion.

26: When you are issued new equipment to field test, this does not mean 'give it to the Ensign'.
26/A: Similarly, when troopers are field testing new grenades, the entirety of your AAR should not be 'It's supposed to explode, right? Because it did.'

27: The practice of Malicious Charity is prohibited, namely giving three wounded deckmen two medikits.
27/A: Crew are reminded that Medikits are multi-dose.

28: Ensigns are measured for flight suit/armour during induction, not coffins. Stop telling them otherwise.
28/A: 'We don't measure you for coffins because there usually isn't enough left to bury' is not a viable alternative, either.

29: Commander Y'berg and Lt.Cdr Blackburn are not in a secret relationship
29A: Nor is Specialist Smith their secret lovechild
29A/1: Speicalist Smith isn't their "not-so-secret" lovechild either.
29B: Specialist Smith is to be reminded that he's 10 years older than the Commander.

30: Stop wandering around the ship, drawing chalk outlines around the hallways and telling the deckmen 'I'm trying to remember where they all died'. It's bad for morale, and we know that nobody died in that hallway.
30/A: Even if you got lucky the first time, Lt. Hawkins. Don't expect sympathetic deckmen to happen again.
30/B: Drawing an amoebic chalk circle and telling people 'there was a pile of them here just a week ago' is absolutely forbiden.
30/C: We've actually had to treat rookies for PTSD before they've even gone on a single combat mission. Stop it.

31: Pretending to be cultists to blend with the locals is a good idea, preaching Commanderism is not.
31/A: Stealing chairs for 'The Great Commandy One' is forbidden.
31/B: Just because Commander Y'berg appreciates the new chair she's received from the last mission does not mean you are allowed to continue stealing chairs.
31/C: Please stop sending chairs to Commander Y'berg's office, it is not 'The Ideal Sacrifice for the Great Commandy One.'
31/D: This does not mean you are allowed to burn chairs as an offering.

32: This should really not have to be said, but any cults, religions or sects revolving around Commander Y'berg are prohibited.
32/A: Stop referring to the Orion as "The Commander's Heavenly Chariot".

33: Despite the recent boarding simulation, Engineering staff are to stop filling our ship with enough booby traps to make it look like a Death Course. This includes: buzzsaws coming from the walls, laser grids, descending ceilings, pitfall traps, embedded wall mounted plasma pistols, poison dart launchers, giant rolling balls and floors mined with pressure plates, spiked elevator floors/roofs and covering the entire air vent floor with mouse traps.
33/A: When the hallways stop resembling Temple of Doom and start resembling a Kusarian game show, this should be regarded as a time to stop.
33/A/1: Stop trying to sell footage of the deckmans trying to get through them.
33/A/2. Even if you’ve covered everything in three inches of foam.
33/B: Similarly, no dedicating the ship as ‘The First Temple of the Great Commandy One’.
33/C: Stop trying to sell the traps to other ships, even if modifications have made them ‘20% more lethal’.

34: Stop trying to replace the Commander's seat in the Bridge with 'a throne more befitting a being of her station'. Thrones and other chairs made of swords, bones, skulls, teddy bears, gold, 'hard light', women/men (be they volunteers or not) and/or alien alloys are forbidden.
34/A: Most of them are not very comfortable anyway.

35: Commander Y'berg impersonators are henceforth banned. Especially if all you’re trying to do is get laid with Lt.Cdr Blackburn.
35/A: The same goes for impersonators of Lt.Cdr Blackburn.
35/B: Impersonation of a member of the senior command staff is still a military crime.

36: After Action Reports are mandatory for all pilots returning from patrol. Stop telling the ensigns that Command doesn't expect AARs because they don't expect them to survive.

37: ‘He who has the highest yield is able to demand the yield of others’ is not recognized as a way of establishing chain of command.
37/A: Despite appearances to the contrary, neither is body count.
37/B: If the crew continue to insist on the 'yield = chain of command', it should be noted that Commander Y'berg has the authority to deploy and initiate the Orion's full weaponry.

38: Bridge staff are to stop betting on troopers making a shot or not.
38/A: The same for how many pieces the enemy ship will explode.
38/B: Morbid bets such as how many pilots are making it back from the next mission are now punishable.
38/C: Gambling addiction is being diagnosed more often than PTSD. This has to stop now.

39: The small toggle found on the back of the neck in scout armor is to be used for medical emergencies only. Sabotaging the emergency quick release for pranks resulting in ‘wardrobe malfunctions’ is strongly discouraged. The last team had to fight thorough a mission naked.

40: Pilots reminded that just because the engineering staff was able to fix Lt. Brook's wrecked templar, this does not make them "Mechromancers".

41: Honor duelling is expressly prohibited under any circumstance.
41/A: So is ‘Dishonor’ duelling.
41/B: Even if the Dropsuit is immune to pistol rounds.

42: The Interrogation Chamber cannot be 'dressed up' to look like a dungeon, sexual or otherwise.

43: Stop cooking food over the Templar's engines.
43/A: Or making moonshine over the Templar's engines
43/B: Or the Challenger's engines in either instance...

44: "Everything is air-droppable at least once" is not a valid excuse, Sgt. Grey. Please report to Commander Y'berg's office for disciplinary action immediately.

45: You are allowed to play instruments to allivate boredom and improve morale.
45/A: You are not allowed to play a Flamethrower-Guitar on the top of the Freighter.
45/A/1: Where did you even get that?

46: Trying to seduce ANY ENEMY TROOPS is a dumb and horrible idea.
46/A: Even if Lieutenant Hale successfully recruited enemy members via this method, it means he was incredibly lucky and/or charisimatic and is currently being disciplined for his actions. IT DOES NOT MEAN YOU SHOULD DO IT.
46/B: Even if you are lonely and desperate

47: When ordered to grab ahold of something, that is because the ship is currently engaging in evasive manuvers, not shifting into ramming speed.

48: No replacing combat stims with recreational drugs.
48/A: No augmenting smoke grenade payloads with recreational drugs.

49: Our motto here at BAF is 'Carina Regnum Imperiatrix', not 'ensigns first'.

On a final note, any shenanigans from the crew will result in new rules and extensions added to the list.

Cdr. Pria Y'berg, Lt.Cdr. Clyde Blackburn, Lt.Cdr. Robert Diehle, Cdr. Marcus Greer, Doctor Amanda Becker
HMS-Orion
Bretonian Armed Forces

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Open to Replies

[Y'berg]

AHOY THERE, ME BEAUTY!

---

The Corsair Raba banked hard, trying to evade the lance of disruptive energies coming from the Templar's guns. One by one, it’s plasma batteries fell silent, circuitry fried by the pulse gun’s damage.

Armed Forces Lieutenant Benjamin ‘Slag’ Steele’s comm bands lit up with a series of cheers. He keyed his own mic and began to speak: Yarr, this be Buccaneer Five! The prize be crippled, and... seriously, do I have to keep talking like this?

His lead, the ever experienced Buccaneer One, keyed into the channel. Aye, matey, if ye be a Bretonian Pirate, ye mus’ talk like one too! Arr!

Another series of ragged cheers echoed through the comm lines.

Oh for f*ck’s s- The Templar pilot juked his ship up as a volley of plasma fire flashed by ahead, threatening to vaporize his craft. He swore, and pulled into a climb, arcing over the top of the crippled transport. The Raba still has active guns! Buccaneer Four, go for the turrets! I’ll draw it’s fire!”


Yarr, this be a tough one, much unlike their more slippery brethren! The second Templar cut by, it’s guns already white hot as it charged. I’ll cut down it’s mast and bring it down on this becalmed sea!

Saber, we’re in the middle of the Southern Desert right now! We’re about as far away from sea as we can possibly get! When only silence replied, he quickly clicked his comm once more in frustration. Arr!


Be ye lollygaggin’ when there’s a ship shootin’ at ye, Mister Slag!? Barked his lead. Smartly now, let’s destroy them engines!

Right, right, making my run now!

…

Arr, dammit!

A chuckle echoed through the comms. That’s the spirit, ye-

For f*ck’s sake, Saber, shoot it’s ass up already!

The two Templars joined together and banked in tandem, lining up behind the much less maneuverable Raba, weapons puking blue and white fire as soon as they picked out the engines. One stuttered, and then died while the others exploded. Parting shots ripped through the comm dish on top of the ship, further dooming it to its fate in the hands of BAF.

Arr, this be Cap’n Saber, hoist the jolly roger and the red flag, for BAF won’t be givin’ no quarter!

... Overwatch copies, Saber. Dropships Two and Three are deploying now. Pria responded, if a little bemusedly. Please don’t let it have been passed on to them too…

Dropship Two, Dropship Three, prepare for deployment.

YARR!

She facepalmed. Oh God…

= Southern Desert, Planet Sydney 19:34 Local Time, January 25, 826 =

Three corsairs were patrolling the top deck, their plasma rifles swinging back and forth.

The railguns of Dropship Three’s Powered Armor detachment fired.

Dropship Three Actual, Major Angus ‘Beard’ Black, raised a saber and pointed it skywards. Avast, ye scoundrels!

Plasma fire zipped by in return, signing the feather off his fancy hat and forcing him to duck back behind a rock. Crew, the scurvy dogs be takin’ cover on the poop deck! He paused, chuckling about having ‘always wanted to say that’. Have ye a shot, Mister Hawke?


Aye, cap’n, I’ll take his head off withou’ rufflin’ his ears if ye want me to. Three-Five let out, mangling the pirate speak with his natural Cornish dialect as he sighted through his scope, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Just who the hell had managed to convince engineering that wooden furniture on a plasma sniper rifle was a good idea, anyway?

Probably the same one that had made a Powered Armor scale hook hand, actually.

The first of the corsairs died as its head, neck and part of a shoulder were blasted off by a green gob of supersonic plasma. The other, seeing it’s comrade fall, roared defiance and redoubled its fire.

Prepare to be boarded, you scurvy dogs!

I think you already said that, Cap.

Shut up, you. Advance to yonder becalmed ship!

Strike Three plodded across the desert sands, the Three Power Armored soldiers leading the charge with suppressive fire.

Well, in actual fact, it was the Scout troopers that lead the charge; Strike Three Two and Three Three activated their magnetic boots and gloves, then climbed up on the hull, blasters coming free from the holsters on their chest. The first corsair went down in a cage of plasma and pain, a second taking two shots to bring low. The last blaster discharge crippled the last one’s leg.

It lashed out with one arm, knocking one of the troopers over the side.

MAN OVERBOARD! Screamed his partner, already reaching for his rifle.

Ahoy there, ye ugly scumsucker! The last corsair turned, only for a long, centuries old saber to sink into one eye. The Captain twisted, and the last of the upper deck crew died to an ancient piece of human history.

A giant hook was thrown up from over the edge of the ship, and up came a Power Armor, followed by two more.

Gangway, Cap’n. Drawled one, blowing to get a feather out of his face. Monkey be swimmin’ with the scorpions at the moment, but just pluck ‘im like a turnip and he’ll be fine.

Aye, lad, you head off and secure me this here prize ship. I’ll see about gettin’ the lil’ Monkey out of the sandbox.

He turned to Two-Three as they leaned over the edge and spotted two wildly flailing legs.

Well, that went better than expected.

"25: Despite operations which involve boarding enemy ships, hijacking their shipping and supplies, raiding their land bases and in all the above cases making off with everything not nailed down (and then bringing in a recovery team with crowbars and power tools), the Orion is not a pirate vessel, nor will its crew act like they’re part of a pirate crew."

---

[Y'berg]

FALSE IDOLS

---

Somewhere, in the distance, a dozen voices hummed unison.

It went something like: “Ouuummmmmm.”

-... is that…? -Pria pulled the pillow off her head and strained her ears, her other senses almost blanking out as she concentrated all her focus into her ears; yes, yes it was.

There were Discordian monks loose on her ship.
Rather, there were people - likely her crew - trying to sound like Discordian monks loose on her ship.

She reflected that the Orion was in a sad, sad state when it’s Commander’s first reaction to the idea of saffron-robed holy men wandering her ship doing their thing wasn’t one of confusion, or bewilderment, or even to suspect mind control had been involved.
Rather, it was a slow, resigned ‘Oh not again’.


She threw off the covers, grabbed a sweatshirt and her pants, and for good measure grabbed the bullhorn; something told her she was going to need it. Pulling open a small cabinet beside the door, she reached in and grabbed her headset, dialing into the command channel as she slipped it on and adjusted the mic.

-Blackburn, this is the Y'berg, I want a sitrep. What have they gotten up to this time?
-Uhm… sir? You know the saying that there’s no such thing as an atheist in a foxhole, sir?
The alarm bells going off in his head doubled. -Yes. -She hedged, not sure if she liked where the conversation was going.
-They’ve… uh… how... -Blackburn continued, for once unable to put into words what was happening.
-Blackburn. Are they making a throne of skulls like the last time?
-No, not this time, sir. Most call it… uh... ‘Commanderism’.

Pria's only answer was a long, drawn out sigh. -Is that what I think it is?
-Uh… you know what, I’m not sure anymore. They’ve been praying, sir. To you.
-What.
-Congratulations, sir, half of the Orion thinks you're god.

Over the line, she heard a crash in the background, and someone yelled in abject panic. Blackburn let out his own sigh of defeat.

-... You might want to come to the Bridge, Commander. Things have… escalated.
-I'll be there in five." She promised, nodding (and not caring that Blackburn couldn't see it) as she went for the door.

Opening it, she found the hallway lined by a mixed bag of well over a dozen crewmembers, pilots, soldiers and engineers. They were all bowed low in supplication; some silent, others giggling, a few rubbing their heads from having headbutted it in the rush not to be the last one staring at the door. Each and every one was female, brunette (whether or not her hair had been a different color the last time he had seen them) and where it allowed had it tied back into a ponytail. All were wearing officer's coats.

Oh not this again.

The entire gaggle of Flameheart lookalikes raised their heads as the door behind Pria slid shut. She made a quick mental correction: they were wearing nothing but officer coats.
She spotted their leader as she stood, revealing the sh*-eating grin of the recently promoted Lt Commander Emily Smith.
She stepped aside, to reveal a bound and gagged Commander Flameheart, carried on the shoulders of two other cultists.

-An offering for you, Oh Great Commandy One. -She said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Pria could only repeat herself with a short, flat, -What.

- Twenty five minutes later -

-I can’t thank you enough, Pria. -Eva said, face still flushed bright red from the embarrassing experience. She was matching her step for step as they made a beeline for the bridge, though she was constantly fidgeting. -Surprise. They caught me by complete surprise.

Her only answer was to ignore her and give her some privacy as she fixed her too-small jacket to try and cover her midriff, though her own cheeks burned crimson. Being mobbed by two dozen fake Flamehearts was quite the harrowing experience, after all. Especially when the real one was watching her at the time.
And then there were the girls in modified scout armor. Was it legal for battle armor to be that skimpy?

-Really, I didn’t quite know what was happening until after they had immobilized my hands - using rope, of course - and next thing I know I’m being dragged to your room by Smith and...
-It’s alright, Eva. -Pria answered, not unkindly. -I believe you.
Eva nodded, once. -... nevertheless, thank you. Again.
-Again; it’s alright, Ev- Hold on.

Eva bounced off her back as she abruptly stopped. She spotted the reason immediately; the hallway was empty.
And it was quiet.

-Too q-
-Don’t say it. -Hissed Pria, and even her thoughts were silenced.
Eva blinked twice, surprised. -Wh-
-Shh! -She urged her to one side, squinting. This was a main corridor. There should have been at least someone travelling along here. But… there was no-one.

-Slowly. I’ll lead. -She whispered, inching forwards and loosening the blaster at her thigh. Eva fell into step behind her, chewing on a lip in worry.
The cross intersection was clear, as was the T intersection that lead off into one of the ship’s emergency armories. Pria was just one door away from the bridge.
She came up to the door, and pushed the big red button.
It hissed open, and rather anticlimactically, nobody was waiting for them.

Halfway built, the semi-renovated bridge reminded her of a set of a movie. Fake stone buttresses had sprung up, as were several superfluous pillars made of ultralight materials. A repair skeleton was hauling cages over to be hung off the catwalks. Given the straight pole down the middle and flat, solid floor, Pria had no illusions as to who their occupants were going to be.

Another came by, this one holding a man secured firmly to an X-shaped crucifix. Thankfully, it seemed that he was fine. For now. In fact...

-Blackburn, is that you?
-Mmphfmm! He mumbled, mouth taped over.
-The heretic has been secured. -Reported his captor in the loud tones of her specialization. -By right of the Incredibly High Major Henderson, this blasphemer of the Great Commandy One’s word will be… Commandeered.
Eva, Blackburn and Pria all shared a groan as the engineer laughed. Then her laughing abruptly stopped as she realized who she was talking to.

-Uh… you want me to let him go, don’t you, sir?
-... ya think?

When she had a normal day, Pria usually controlled the operations of the ship from the bridge room’s upper deck; a raised platform halfway up the room. There was the seat, there, high backed, behind it a wide desk console, from which she worked, able to command and communicate with the entirety of the ship.

Things had changed.

-What did you lot do to my chair? -She demanded.
-Increased maximum capacity. -Recited one of the occupants; two of the ‘valkyries’, as they called themselves, had taken up position on the throne which had replaced her rather more normal seat.

Her eyes narrowed as she took in the seat’s new dimensions; impractical to the extreme, with a gothic design to it. It was covered in golden decorations, including... -... are those human skulls?

-We scanned a medical record in and printed them using the fabbers. -Explained a third cultist, this one a familiar face from the engineering department.
-Sorry, sir, but I figured this would be good for morale.

Eva gave the engineer a flat look. -One would think a happy Commander would be better for morale than… this…
-That’s our jobs! -Chirped a valkyrie, who quickly shrunk behind the Commander’s new Golden Throne as she leveled her with his stare.

She pulled up the bullhorn, and stepped out onto the edge of the catwalk.

-Seriously, everyone?

It was all it took; everyone in the room stopped.

-Commanderism. Really?
-Yes, O Great Commandy One.
-...
-... sorry.
-I don’t care who’s idea it was. -Pria began. She noted the deckman who sagged in relief, though. -I’m no god. Just a woman. Simple as that.
She spent the time then to look each and every one of the people surrounding him in the eyes. Nobody could meet his gaze for more than a second.

-Am I understood?
-SIR! YES SIR!
-Now clean this mess up. -She ordered, and sat down on her throne. The attempts of the two valkyries to lean back onto his lap were pre-emptively stopped by the appearance of a crackling stun gun.

Their footsteps faded away as they rushed off to get changed.
-Good to be god-queen, huh, Pria? -Snarked Eva, clicking the stun gun off.
-You be quiet too, Eva.
-As you wish, oh Great Commandy One.

Pria smirked and reached over, grabbing two cups of coffee usually left for her on her table. Even in the middle of a religious revolution, there were some things that remained sacred to all. He offered one to Eva, who took it and sat down on the arm-rest on her right.

Chuckling, Pria took a sip. -Let me guess: You’ve always wanted to say that, haven’t you?
-Yes, Pria. -She admitted. -Thank you for giving me the opportunity.[/b]
-Have anything else you wanted a chance to say?
-I do. Eva smiled, softly.



"19: Personnel are to stop worshipping Commander Y'berg as if she were some god of war. Please refer to her as 'Commander', 'Ma'am or 'Sir'. Not as 'Master Commander', 'Empress of The Orion' or 'the Great Commandy One'."

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[Y'berg]

Message Class: Audio-Visual
Subject: New "Rules"
To: The Crew of the Orion
From: Command Staff, HMS-Orion

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Well, it's been a couple of months, and you keep doing this.
Additions:

50: Due to the increaced morale and productivity, Commanderism is now an accepted religion aboard the Orion.
50/A: Captain Y'berg's orders regarding Commanderism is to not to change names, is purely due to the fact that she doesn't want to deal with a religious war in the near or distant future.

51: The next person to suggest that Becker “graft a d*ck on her hand so that she can go f*ck herself.” will be presumed to be volunteering theirs.

52: After an incident involving a certain messageboard, and a mis-typed command to the network drive, all fanfiction sites are now blocked by the ship firewall.
52/A: Admiral Dagon's still in therapy after she accidentally read Lt. Wilson's ideas on how to improve herself.
52/B: We have copies of Lt. Wilson's documents saved, for weaponization purposes.
52/C: Seriously people. This put DAGON into Therapy. She's the woman that nomads fear by reputation.

53: A death of a soldier is always a somber occasion. With that in mind, refrain from adding "commentary" on the memorial wall.
53/A: "But it really happened!" is no excuse for snide remarks about the soldier's skill or lack of thereof.
53/B: On one hand, this was a breach against the rule. On the other, we really would like to hear about heroic stands.

54: Yes, the folks at the Black Market have started referring to us as the "Shadow Broker" for selling them so much information on IMG. Yes, we are based on an space ship that sometimes hides in nebula clouds. This does not make it funny or appropriate to refer to Commander Blackburn as "Doctor T'Soni".
54/A: Anyone who tells the ensigns that people who screw up walk into my office and don't come out again, gets to see their story come true. ~Blackburn

55: Not allowed to conduct witch trials via the flamethrower-guitar to determine whether an ensign is a spy or not.

56: All personnel wishing to make moonshine are now required to first undergo a three-day training course conducted by Dr Becker, dates and times TBC; a sign-up sheet can be found on the bulletin board in the wardroom. If you must insist on making the stuff, you can at least do it in a way that won't put you in the infirmary after your first belt.

57: While we commend the ingenuity and initiative shown by some of the engingeering staff, the 3D printers are only to be used for manufacturing projects authorised by Chief Engineer Diehle. And even if thermoplastics weren't extremely hard to come by these days, manufacturing our own line of BAF action figures and other toys to air-drop over the slum districts would only invite gallic retaliation against the Leeds' youth and do our reputation even more harm.
57/A: And yes, that goes for BAF-branded "adult novelties" too, even if the idea of disrupting the Liberation Day parade with a rain of dildos gave Captain Y'berg a good laugh.

58: Making moonshine using the freighter's engines should not have yo be against the rules, but thanks to Corporal Wells, it is.

59: Due to Operation Chrysallis, Lieutenant Dhatri is no longer allowed to go on a mission if she has a blood alcohol content above .07.

60: Yanking off the helmets of slain enemy troopers and showing them to any remaining civilians in the area was a good idea, and we really should have thought of it sooner. But perhaps next time you could abstain from hacking off their heads afterwards, impaling them on some nearby railings and posing for pictures in front of them?
60/A: Yes, we mean the heads of the enemy troopers, not the civilians. And the fact someone had to ask speaks for itself.

61: No matter how far it might potentially set back the recapture of Leeds, under no circumstances will we consider authorising any proposed operation that requires Commander Blackburn to crossdress again.

62: Captain Y'berg does not 'bang a dozen chicks every morning,' and personnel are advised to stop proliferating the rumour.
62/A: Allegations that the Captain is trying to 'make do' now that Flameheart isn't around are likewise discouraged.
62/B: To the graffiti artist who made that... interesting mural in the women's bathroom on deck 7, we know who you are. Report for punishment detail immediately.

63: If you find personnel engaged in certain... activities... let them be. A moment of romance should be kept private, not recorded and shown at movie night.

64: Yes, Corporal Luke comes from the Desert. And yes, his uncle's name is Owen. It's also true that his father works for the enemy and that his favored CQB weapon on missions is a sword; and yes, he lost a hand in battle. That said: No he is not a "motherf*cking Jedi" or "The Chosen One." Tests on whether or not he's capable of psionics haven't even come back yet, people. Cool your jets.
64/A: And yes, Dala, we are aware that the Corporal's father has tried to convince him to join him and the gauls. Given he's a better shot than 90% of you chucklefucks, and that his exact response was- and we quote- "I'll never join you", we are formally denying your request that we have him watched.

65: While we reluctantly concede that the flamethrower-guitar someone from Engineering kitbashed out of spare welding gear and a Stratocaster knockoff was an impressive technical achievement and good for morale, the flamethrower bagpipes are considered crossing the line, and have been confiscated.
65/A: In the interest of health and safety, so has the unicycle. (Where do you people find this sh*t? ~Diehle.)
65/B: And yes, I am aware you got the idea from me digging that video up from the depths of the Neural. But the difference between you and the famous Unipiper is that he could actually get a tune out of the damn things instead of sounding like a chihuahua with his balls caught in a mousetrap. ~Y'berg.

66: Please stop trying to convert the Gauls to Commanderism. Yes, Lieutenant Wilson's prepared speech was impressive, and it might even have worked if they'd speak Bretonian.

67: Trying to use 'practicing Commanderism for field usage' as an excuse to barge into the opposite gender's showers while (attempting to) reciting the pre-written speeches is strictly prohibited. Ensign Holst is still recovering from the private damage she sustained.
67/A: And on that... LtCdr. Jackson, I understand you are very paranoid. That does not mean you should be packing an stun gun in the shower. Especially one that has been charged to be a lethal weapon.
67/B: Where did you even get one of those anyways? ~Y'berg

68: The most powerful disguise in the world is not a coverall, mop, and bucket.

69: There are no holidays in Commanderism, so stop trying to take them.
69/A: Nor is there a Commanderism-aproved afterlife.
69/A/1: There are not nulible virgins there.
69/A/2: There are not beer fountains there.
69/A/3: Your family might be there. We don't know.

70: Please stop assuming the descendants of Irish and Middle Eastern colonists can make a bomb out of tape, spit, and lawn darts.
70/A: Even if they can make a decent IED from the above parts list.

71: Commanderisn does not have any holy symbols. Please stop trying to use them to repel gauls, hookers, or your ex.
71/A: On the list of not-holy symbols: a mushroom cloud, the BAF logo, a hand grenade, crossed rifles, smiley face mushroom clouds, satchel charges, vials, piles of spent brass and batteries, and double-headed eagles.

72: A hand grenade into a chain store is not an "Economic stimulus package"

73: Please stop holding bomb-building contests.

74: Thermite is not always the answer.

75: PTSD is a serious condition, not a reason to give a private three dozen RPGs and a rooftop perch.

76: Trophies are unbecoming of you and probably have spy gear in them. Please leave them in the lab.

77: Engineer Reyes, while your proactiveness in making new ammo round is commendable, please dial your...enthusiasm back a little. Or at least have more warnings in your report of the expected results. While the amount of destructive power you packed into your new 'Worldshaker' rounds was impressive, and it did, technically, 'negate cover' like you said it would, we don't need to track the squad by the buildings they're leveling, and the risk to unfortunately too-close civilians is too high. Remember, we're supposed to be the good guys here.
77/A: Until further notice, we're banning all usage of the Worldshaker rounds. Turn in all Worldshaker rounds you have to Command or the Armoury. That is an order. Don't try to hide them. The last thing we need is for one of these to go off because some idiot didn't keep them properly and lose half a deck.
77/B: No, not even if shooting them is 'good for morale.' If you want to have fun with explosions take a few fireworks up to the freighter's roof under proper supervision.

78: It is important that we maintain steady relations with the general population across Sirius in our fight against Gauls.
That being said, this does not give you permission to act like a bunch of undisiplined pirates on shore leave.
78/A: Yes, that means you, Buccaneer Squadron.
78/B: This also includes going out to the local bar(s) and starting fights with the locals after becoming intoxicated
78/C: Gambling away your monthly payment, then going back to assault the bar/club/back alley cockfight ring will be it's own punishment.
78/D: Stop trading valuable supplies for non-mission critical items with the locals
78/E: No, cigarettes are not mission critical items
78/F: Neither are cigars
78/G: For god's sakes, I should not have to make this list, but here it is.

Items on this list are not to be traded for with Armed Forces supplies

-Pornagraphic magazines
-"Herbal" supplements
-Non-herbal supplements
-Trending fashion (especially 'jeggings')
-Bootleg movies
-Video games
-MP3 players
-Alcoholic beverages
-Bootleg alcoholic beverages
-Sports equipment that cannot be used on the Orion (Seriously, a bowling set? ~Y'berg)
-Perishable foodstuffs, no matter how long you can make it last

79: Propane/sparkplug fueled potato launchers are not an acceptable ordance delivery system for grenades.

80: Medics are to loose the bad Rheinlandic accent immidiantly.
80/A: Medics from Rheinland are to loose the bad Walachian accent even faster.

81: “Shoot it in the face.” Is valid advice on the subject of engaging a corsair. “Nipple cripple it for massive damage.” Is not. Stupidity does not come under ‘acceptable losses’ of our recruits.
81/A: It works, I swear!
81/B: We have a captured 'sair. Captain Y'berg is looking forward to the demonstration. Corporal Abrams, please report to the Interrogation Chamber.

82: Ventilation shafts will be cleaned for their monthly maintenance. If there’s anything you don’t want the maintenance team to find, move it away now.
82/A: If there’s anything there that you know the maintenance team doesn’t want to find, move it away NOW.

83: Promotions are not earned on the basis of beating a superior officer in a duel to the death, first blood, first to shout ‘uncle’ or ‘last to get caught by the Captain Y'berg/Doctor Becker/Commander Blackburn/Security’.
83/A: Nor is it won through arm wrestling, drinking the most shots, body count competitions or 'papers scissors rock'.

As usual, extensions will be added

Cpt. Pria Y'berg, Cdr. Clyde Blackburn, Lt.Cdr. Robert Diehle, Cdr. Marcus Greer, Doctor Amanda Becker
HMS-Orion
Bretonian Armed Forces

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