Author's note: The Challenge in this contest was to write a story about a water-hauling freighter in the 'Oort Cloud', just beyond the solar system, using a song prompt. The song above was what I had to work with.

Below is the result...

"Admiral Nelson, care to comment on why you're willing to characterize this project as 'such a waste'?" She asked, switching her contact-camera to record as she looked at the distinguished soldier.

As she looked at him, she let his biography filter through the side-scroll of the camera feed and highlighted a few of his more noteworthy achievements.

The phrases 'Hero of the Jovian Uprising', 'Youngest Admiral in Fleet History', and 'So Heavily Decorated his medals could make up a Dwarf Planet' flashed in the corner of her recording window next to his face, as he gave her a superbly photogenic scowl.

"I know what this project is being sold as, miss uh..."

"Melinda Woodward, New York Times," she replied, trying to keep the scowl off her face. This gaffe made the third time he had forgotten her name, and would need to be edited out.

Again.

"But at the end, when we finally complete the collection and make this 'pool', we'll be lucky if we don't kick-off another war with the Jovians," Admiral Nelson replied, his voice sounding remarkably weary. "I'm getting a little sick of having to knock them back to their moons, Miss Walters."

"Woodward," she said, not feeling the irritation she tried to put into the admonishment. The sullen soldier was sulking over this assignment, and would likely struggle to hear her over the howls of his wounded pride.

"Soldiers are such babies," Melinda muttered. To her surprise, the young Admiral's impressive scowl flinched, and he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"You'll see what I'm talking about soon, miss Bernstein," Admiral Nelson promised, just as the elevator doors whisked open.

The sight waiting for her was a nearly unobstructed view of the massive new Ice Hauler. It's immense length of gleaming, turgid hull erected proudly into the dark, a formidable expression of the virility of humanity in the dawn of its interstellar age.

She smiled at the sight, even as Admiral Nelson slapped his hand to his forehead. "The damn thing even looks like a cock."

"It's the great fault of spaceship design, sir," someone said from just beyond their sight. A middle-aged woman in greasy overalls poked her head around the corner and waved when she made eye-contact with Melinda.

"Scalinda Edison, but everyone calls me Scotty. Chief engineer of The Morning Glory," the woman said, shaking Melinda's hand before offering it to the admiral.

Who looked at her with a glare that couldn't be more intimidating if it shot lasers. "Morning Glory? Please be kidding."

"What's wrong with it?" Scotty asked. Melinda was slightly confused to see the woman snigger between words.

"Do you know how long I spent with our corporate over-lady arguing about names? How she wanted to call it Woodie Richard?" Admiral Nelson exclaimed.

"Isn't that her father's name? Richard's Exploration is the company name," Melinda noted.

"Pride of a Man?" Admiral Nelson asked her.

"Probably a shot at you, sir."

"Hard and Fast?"

"He's both," Scotty said, pointing at the ship.

"Thrust in the Dark?"

"Technically what a ship does," Scotty defended, but to Melinda's surprise, the woman was giggling.

"Heading Forward? Rising Prowess? Shaft?" Admiral Nelson asked irritably.

"Christine Richard seems fond of expressing a ship's uh, virility. I guess," Melinda said, not able to see what had the chief engineer doubling over, in a laughing fit.

"I'd drive this ship straight into that orbiting pleasure-palace of hers, but I suspect that's how she'd like to go out," Admiral Nelson muttered. He started down the hall to the airlock leading to the ship and gestured for them to follow. "Let's get this over with."

"Lie back and think of England, sir?" Scotty asked, just before doubling-over with laugher again.

"I might be tossing you out an airlock, Scotty," Nelson warned.

"It'd be my first time, sir, so please be gentle," Scotty managed to sputter, between sputtering gales of laughter.

Nelson marched ahead, muttering irritably, leaving Melinda behind with the Morning Glory's chief engineer. She scratched her head, utterly bewildered, and asked, "why did you say the shape was the fault of its design?"

Scotty took a few deep breaths, and said, "Oh, it's not just this ship. Every spaceship looks like a penis. They're basically skyscrapers with fusion rockets on the bottom. Spaceship design 101 is to put the entire ship in front of the engines. That way things aren't ripped apart when the engine punches forward at 6Gs. It's just more pronounced on this ship, because of the ice-breaking wedge and the engines."

Melinda looked back to the Morning Glory, with the protruding wedge of nano-reactive graphene, and the twin, round, massive engines at the end of the ship.

Melinda noticed the engine's casings were a faint blue colour.

"I don't see it," Melinda said, feeling a little silly for being so confused.

"Are you really a reporter?" Scotty asked her, her eyes wide and her lips pursed in a soft whistle.

Melinda chose to ignore the dig at her reporting credentials. "Any idea why the Admiral is so dismissive about this project? We're gathering seven billion tonnes-"

"Trillion. Seven trillion cubic metres of water. Mind your significant figures," Scotty corrected her.

"Trillion tonnes of water. That's a game changer for the water-starved Jovian colonies. And the idea of leaving it in a bubble to make a Phobos-sized moon for easy access? It's brilliant. Why is the admiral so surly about being a part of this project?" Melinda finished asking.

"Because the Admiral lives in the real world," Scotty said. Melinda couldn't help but notice the humour had left her face. "Real life tends to disappoint idealists. First times are like that."

Scotty laughed again and shook her head. "Dang-it, now even I'm doing it. Although how you've missed the symbolism of that phallic idiom over there, I'll never know. Let's go, before the Admiral takes the Morning Glory's maidenhood without us."

Confused, Melinda followed Scotty through the airlock and onto the ship.

"Red lines lead to the CIC. Blue lines lead to engineering, if the Admiral gets sick of having you around. Good luck, kid," Scotty said, waving as they parted ways.

Melinda followed her path for a few minutes until she came to an open blast-door that lead to a large, circular room in the heart of the ship, where Admiral Nelson seemed to have returned to his element.

"That's all systems green. Once Scotty checks-in, we'll cast-off and move ourselves a quarter million kilometres from the instillation," Admiral Nelson said, watched the display on the nearby wall.

He looked over to the door and saw her. "Ah, Pyle, get in here. You're supposed to be witnessing this project, for posterity. Take a seat near the comms officer over there."

Melinda made for the far side of the bridge and took the free chair. Wordlessly, she sat down in one of the empty chairs and strapped herself in.

"Scotty here, sir," the voice of the chief engineer carried over the intercom. "Confirming all systems green. Ready for launch."

"Ah, so the Morning Glory is up and ready for some action, Admiral?" Melinda heard someone say, and was surprised to see a blue-tinged hologram appear in the centre of the room.

"Ah, Miss Richard, lovely to see you," Admiral Nelson said, for some reason stressing the word 'lovely' and rolling his eyes. Melinda found the inflexion confusing but didn't say anything. "I'm pleased to see they built a Quantum Entangled Communicator just so our corporate overlord can ride-along on this trip."

"Oh, Admiral. Up-tight as ever. You'd feel better if you'd relax a little. Now let's go boldly where men always want to go."

"Into a distant, cold ocean of ice?" The Admiral asked, blandly.

"Into something dark and wet, Admiral," the hologram of Christine Richard retorted.

"Ice isn't wet," the admiral said.

"It's not alone," Christine Richard replied tartly. Melinda was impressed by how adroitly she referenced the fact that this project wasn't yet complete.

"Disengage the docking clamps, and prepare the engines for a slow burn," Admiral Nelson ordered. "Give us 0.6Gs of thrust."

"Aye, sir," Scotty replied over the intercom.

"Admiral, you're supposed to say 'let's thrust gently for now', especially on a maiden voyage," Christine said.

More than a few members of the crew laughed as the hologram spoke. Melinda suspected there was an inside joke she had missed.

"Apologies, madam, but I really hate you right now," Admiral Nelson muttered, rubbing his temples.

"Docking clamps disengaged. Engaging a 0.6G burn now," one of the crew at a nearby control panel said.

"That's 'thrusting forward' ensign," Christine insisted.

"It's 'lieutenant', actually," the woman at the helm muttered.

On the monitors, the magnificently smooth length of the ship gently slid away from the embrace of the station and pointed itself out into the night. In a few short minutes, the ship was well away, and the station had begun to shrink in the visual monitors.

"We're ninety-five kilometres from the station now, Admiral. Ship's structural integrity is taking the strain comfortably. If we burn at 1G, we should be in our target range in just under two hours."

"Excellent," Admiral Nelson acknowledged. "Lieutenant, I'd like you to find the short range, high-yield kinetic applicator. You'll find it in the closest maintenance locker. Preferably the heaviest one you can find."

"I, uh..." The Lieutenant stuttered for a moment before she decoded whatever secret message the Admiral had given her. A smile lit her face up, and she snapped to attention with a crisp salute. "Sir, yes sir!"

"Right, that gives us two hours to stress-test the wormhole generator. Scotty, can you spare the power?" Admiral Nelson asked, almost shouting as he looked up at the screen. "Now, before you reply, keep in mind that if you utter 'I'm giving her all she's got', I will set this ship to self-destruct."

"Wouldn't that be a little, umm... premature sir," Scotty replied.

Melinda couldn't understand why, but the entire bridge erupted into gales of laughter. The young man beside her would have fallen out of his seat if he wasn't buckled in, and even the Lieutenant leaving the bridge had to clutch at her knees, leaning on the wall.

Nelson held his face in his hands for a moment. "I walked into that one."

Melinda would have written her confusion off as a navy thing, but Christine was laughing so hard she was having trouble staying in range of the hologram projector.

"We can easily spare the power, sir," Scotty announced. "Ship's got a lot of oomph."

"A virile, vigorous ship thrusting into the virgin dark. This must be exciting for you, Admiral. How often did you ever get to go into untouched places in your career?" Christine asked, chuckling as she spoke.

"Lieutenant! Double-time!" Admiral Nelson barked.

"Here, sir!" the lieutenant called-out, as she stepped back through the doors into the bridge. "I have your sledge ha-"

She stopped, and though Melinda couldn't be certain, she guessed it was from the glare the Admiral was giving her. "I mean, the high-yield kinetic applicator, sir."

"Excellent lieutenant, thank you," Admiral Nelson said, taking what looked like an ordinary sledge-hammer. Melinda couldn't understand why it warranted the unique name.

"Miss Richard, say again, all we heard was static," Admiral Nelson said, as he hefted the sledge-hammer with two hands.

This announcement confused Melinda a great deal. Christine's hologram projection seemed to be working fine.

"This is a quantum communicator, you half-wit. We could put every atom in the universe between us, and it would work fine!" Christine exclaimed.

"Sorry, what was that? You're breaking up," Admiral Nelson said, as he swung the sledgehammer into the communicator.

Sparks erupted in the device as the metal head ploughed through it, showering the Admiral with a small spray of metal. Just as the Admiral struck with the hammer, the nearby crew let out an enthusiastic, satisfied sigh.

"Needy hag..." Admiral Nelson muttered, rubbing his forehead with his hand. Melinda was surprised to see he left the hammer in the device. "So since I no longer have any direct oversight, fire-up the wormhole generator and put us into the Oort Cloud. Let's get this project done and over with."

"Uh, sir," the lieutenant said, timidly raising her hand. "I though a quarter-million kilometres was the minimum safe distance we had to be from a large object to use the wormhole generator."

"You are correct, lieutenant. Do it anyway. Any damage we do to the Luna Drydock can be put on the bill for this pool project," Nelson said. "Scotty, prep the gravity generator to simulate an Earth-sized object for four days. That should get us just enough ice to make this water-moon."

"Aye, sir," Scotty replied.

"Uh, Admiral, why is it necessary to be so far away from a solid object?" Melinda asked.

"Wormholes are stationary. Unlike everything else in the universe," Admiral Nelson said as if that were an explanation.

"So an object could collide with the wormhole if we leave it on too long?" Melinda asked.

"That's an understatement," Nelson said. "Long story short, our drift velocity through the universe is roughly three million kilometres an hour. Any wormhole we create will be completely stationary, which means to us it will look like it's moving that fast in the opposite direction. Feed the wormhole too much power, and we take a chunk out of the moon."

"Wait, wormholes are that dangerous?" Malinda nearly screamed the question aloud.

"Kinda why I really don't want to start another Jovian rebellion," Admiral Nelson growled. "As soon as they get ahold of wormhole tech, it's only a matter of time before chunks of the Earth are scattered across the universe."

"But if we do it right," the lieutenant adds. "The wormhole sweeps by us, and we pop into the Oort Cloud, doing a six-year journey in microseconds.

"Wormhole formation in three, two, one..." Scotty said over the intercom.

"And we're in the Oort Cloud," someone said from beside Melinda.

"That was quick," Melinda said.

"Initialize the Gravity Generator. Let me know if we attract anything bigger than a snowball," Admiral Nelson said. "Meanwhile, I'm going to take a nap. First shift on observation, second shift to your bunks, third shift on recreation. Miss Capa-"

"Woodward," Melinda corrected him.

"You have the run of the ship. Hope you find some deeper meaning  out of this mess."

*****

The full collection of the seven trillion cubic metres of ice took another three days before the Morning Glory swept the newly made water planetoid through a wormhole and into Earth's orbit. In a surprisingly short ceremony, the planetoid was claimed by Richard's Explorations, and the opening ceremony was scheduled.

Despite the hurried schedule, news of the new water-moon around earth had the Jovian colonies in an uproar, one that was mended only by the first act of piracy in the history of Earth's navy, when Admiral Nelson commandeered the Morning Glory and immediately set off to create another water world.

The reaction from the Richard Explorations Corporation was predictably venomous, but since the Jovian colonies returned to a dull simmer, there was very little bite from Earth's government.

The legal difficulties and missing ship didn't prevent Richard's Explorations from announcing the grand opening of their newest water resort, which was revealed mere weeks after the planetoid was first delivered.

Tickets to the event were scarce, and highly prized.

Melinda was pleased to receive an invitation directly from Christine Richard, and rode with the new owner of the water moon, just as the festivities were set to begin.

"Are you concerned the Morning Glory has been claimed by the military?" Melinda asked, still determined to mine a decent story from recent events. "I believe Admiral Nelson had it renamed the Su Ckit Yeu Hayg. Any idea what that refers to?"

"No worries. I have my pool, I'm happy," Christine replied.

"Why did you want this water moon, Miss Richard?" Melinda asked.

"It's the size of Phobos, and has almost the same gravity," Christine explained to her, as the stepped off the shuttle. Her first sight, to Melinda's amazement, was a very fit man in a speedo running across the water.

Actually running on water.

"We never could invest the time to building a proper sized pool on any place with low gravity, but there was always so much potential in a low-gravity pool," Christine explained, rubbing her hands together as a woman tackled the man, and they both fell beneath the water.

"Oh, this is even better than I hoped!" Christine exclaimed, next to her.

All around her, to the horizons of water, people were casually throwing themselves out of the water, able to project themselves into the air as if they were a whale. A few enterprising partygoers were trying to get others to jump through a hoop held a few feet in the air, and others were playing a game of soccer over the water.

"Miss Richard, is all of this really worth the threat of rebellion from the Jovian colonies? Million of people on the moons of Jupiter are still on water rations," Melinda reminded her.

"Woo, woo!" Christine cried out, ignoring Melinda. "I wanna see some naked dudes! That's why I built this pool!"

Realizations swept through Melinda's mind, pounding her conscience into a weeping mass in the bottom of her stomach. She recalled Christine's obsession with odd jokes and subtle innuendos, Admiral Nelson's irritation and Scotty's unfaltering mirth. Even the peculiar phallic-shape of the ship, with its odd ice-breaker head and bulbous engines, painted blue.

Horrified, Melinda turned to Christine and asked,"Is that really it?"