Re: [JMC_Blue_Dwarf] Lt. Cmdr. (?) Jason Smegg - \"A question of rank\"

What the hell is a Commander Emeritus?
=Cmdr Niples
>From: e.kolis@...
>Reply-To: JMC_Blue_Dwarf@egroups.com
>To: JMC_Blue_Dwarf@egroups.com
>Subject: [JMC_Blue_Dwarf] Lt. Cmdr. (?) Jason Smegg - "A question of rank"
>Date: Tue, 21 Nov 2000 13:28:14 -0500
>
>Blue Dwarf
>Captain's office
>A day or so before landing on the station
>
>Commander Nipels walked into the Captain's office. "Sir, I have something
>I wish to discuss with you."
>
>"All right," the Captain said, "but make it quick, 'Robot Wars' comes on
>in 15 minutes."
>
>Nipels shook his head in disgust, the captain of a huge mining starship
>couldn't even remember how to use the VCR. "Well sir, it's about the
>promotions you gave out last week. While I don't intend to question your
>authority as captain," (he grimaced) "I do believe that I was left out."
>
>"Please continue," the Captain said.
>
>"Well sir, I have been just as instrumental on board this ship as anyone
>else, and I am especially concerned about young Mr. Smegg. While he is a
>fine crewman, I'm concerned that at this rate in a few months he will be
>ordering me around! No offense, sir."
>
>"You have a good point there, Commander," the Captain said, scratching
>his chin. "In fact, I was just thinking of that myself. That's why I
>decided to give you an honorary promotion to a new rank I made up. I'd
>give you a 'real' promotion but the only position I could promote you to
>would be captain, and, well, we can't have two captains on a ship, even
>one of this size - just look at the 2000 US presidential election!" He
>chuckled.
>
>"Thank you, sir."
>
>"So here you go. You are now a Commander Emeritus. Congratulations!" He
>handed Nipels a plaque.
>
>Nipels looked at the plaque.
>
>"COMMANDER C. MORE NIPPLES
>in commendation of his exceptional Dedication to the Service of the Space
>Corps
>is hereby awarded the rank of
>COMMANDER DMERITUS"
>
>"Uh, thanks," Nipels mumbled, leaving the office.
>
>After Nipels left, the Captain looked at his word-processor software.
>"Whoops! I forgot to run spellcheck on that danged last line!"
>
>--------------------
>
>Planet Vega 22
>Jungle Sector Gamma
>2 days or so after landing on the station
>
>Smegg took the shuttle in for a landing, hoping to meet up with the rest
>of the Blue Dwarf paintball team. He hoped he wasn't late; it had taken
>forever to procure a shuttle to get down to the planet, and the shuttle
>he'd got just happened to have its drives broken. But after two sleepless
>days he'd finally arrived. He looked around for the Visiting Team base;
>then found it off to the left amidst a cluster of trees. Pulling the
>shuttle over, he noticed the rest of the team waiting for him.
>
>No, wait, they weren't waiting for him. They were shooting at him! Why
>would they be doing that? The flimsy shuttle rocked with small-arms fire
>for a few seconds; then Major Harris, who was standing right in front of
>the shuttle, fired a bazookoid at the windshield.
>
>Smegg ducked for cover instinctively under the pilot's chair, knowing it
>would be useless; but a few seconds later he realized he was still alive.
>He stood up, looked around, and noticed a big blue splotch of paint all
>over the shuttle's windshield.
>
>He opened the hatch and shouted out over the loud hum of the hovering
>thrusters, "HEY GUYS!!! WHY YOU SHOOTING AT ME???"
>
>Harris shouted back, "OOPS, SORRY!!! WE THOUGHT YOU WERE THE ENEMY!!! WE
>STARTED THE GAME THREE HOURS AGO!!! NOW GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE THE REAL
>ENEMY FINDS OUT WHERE WE"RE AT!!!"
>
>So he was late for the game. Closing the hatch, Smegg started the shuttle
>on a course back to the station. Just then he saw some military troopers
>ambushing the base firing green paint in precisely aimed packets. Smegg
>had a green shuttle. No wonder the Dwarfers been firing at him!
>
>But if they ever hid behind a tree that was really a tame Polymorph on
>the opposing team... Nah, he thought, I'd be just as scared!
>
>--------------------
>
>Space
>The final frontier
>No, really, Smegg's borrowed shuttle
>10 minutes later
>
>Smegg decided to check his messages. He hadn't done that in the two days
>he'd been trying to find the paintball team. He pulled out his
>communicator and hit the "Read" button.
>
>The communicator said, "You have two messages in mailbox 1. Message one.
>Sunday, 12 AM." (Damn! The clock battery had died again.) "Hello, this is
>SUPER ENG- uh, Steev. We're gonna have fun playing paintball here. I
>invented a new rapid fire paint gun using some of the dimensional portal
>technology. This is really cool! Uh, this is really cool, sir!" (Delete.)
>"Message two. Sunday, 12 AM. Lieutenant Commander Smegg, this is the
>Captain speaking. It appears I have made an error regarding your
>promotion. According to Space Corps Directive 99376, you are too young to
>be promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Commander. However, due to your
>exceptional dedication to the service of the Space Corps, I am able to
>award you the honorary rank of Lieutenant Emeritus. I'm sorry for the
>disappointment, but the rules are the rules. Captain Cannon out. snork
>snork kachoo HEY! Where's the off button! Does anyone realize how
>uncaptainlike that sounds? I had to hold that sneeze for 30 WHOLE
>SECONDS! Hello??? Isn't there anyone here who can stop this recorder
>thing?"
>
>The captain went on rambling for 10 more minutes until the memory
>capacity of the communicator ran out. Smegg thought, how many messages
>did I miss because of that buffoon? He'd have to check back on the ship
>where all the messages were stored.
>
>And one more thing - according to his handy-dandy Portable Book o' Space
>Corps Directives, number 99376 said absolutely NOTHING about age
>requirements for the rank of Lieutenant Commander. He read the full text
>of the directive out of the manual:
>
>"I. Be it so resolved that any Applicant to the Space Corps Academy who
>is currently or has priorly been a member of the Boy Scouts of America,
>Britain, Armenia, Slovakia, Antarctica, or any other nation, country,
>state, municipality, or planetoid, shall be required to take ten (10)
>mandatory Credit-Hours of Diversity Training in the Space Corps Academy,
>in order to remove all Biases against human beings, GELFs, unidentified
>aliens, or other beings of the homosexual, bisexual, transvestite,
>Wiccan, or other maligned persuasions.
>
>II. This Directive shall be passed with the consent of two-thirds (66.6
>repeating percent (%)) of the Space Corps Board of Directors, and
>two-thirds (66.6 repeating percent (%)) of the High Admiralty.
>
>III. The phrase "66.6 repeating" (q.v. section II) is not at all intended
>to reflect upon Satan, Lucifer, the Devil, Mephistopheles, or any other
>creature of the demonic persuasion.
>
>IV. Not to malign those of the demonic persuasion or their worshippers,
>followers, minions, or otherwise obviously brainwashed total SMEGHEADS
>who are actually stupid enough to follow them.
>
>V. Whoops, did we actually say that?"
>
>Still, Smegg thought, being "demoted" wasn't such a bad idea. He thought
>of having to command the ship if Cannon, Nipels, and all the Lieutenant
>Commanders in the Command track were away or killed. Nah, what are the
>odds of that happening? Besides, he'd probably make a better commander
>than Cannon, at least. Time for an appeal! Perhaps. After he got some
>sleep.
>
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