Commander Richard Smith

The 5-EX set on the concrete landing pad surrounded by the security fence. After checking Commander Smith's I.D., the Mobile Infantry sentry at the gate saluted and waved the base taxi through. 'Base taxies' were hovercraft owned by the military and driven by servicemen. They provided transportation on the sprawling complex for personnel engaged in official business. Anything from a staff meeting to picking up a rebuilt piece of equipment at one of the repair shops.

When the taxi pulled up at the landing support/access ladder, Smith saw that there was a podium set up at the foot of it. An enlisted man (the Petty Officer of the Watch) stood behind it and Lieutenant Moonwatcher was shooting the breeze with him. As of 11:17 Hours this morning when Lieutenant Moonwatcher signed the forms, the ship was transferred to the Port Captain. The Deck Officer 'shuffling electrons' on a computer inside the ship and the Petty Officer standing watch at the gangway were both part of the Port Captain's command.

"How did it go?" Lieutenant Moonwatcher asked as Commander Smith returned the salute to the Petty Officer of the Watch. Smith jerked his head to the side and took a couple of steps away from the gangway. Moonwatcher followed him.

"The Admiral is assigning Lieutenant Hammer as First Officer," Smith told Moonwatcher, giving it to him straight without any spin or sugar coating. He did not defend nor criticize Thorndike's decision. He also did not say that he had requested Moonwatcher as his First Officer. Smith knew that Moonwatcher knew that already.

The look of disappointment was evident on Moonwatcher's face, but the man tried to take it stoically. Nodding his head, he commented, "Jack is a good man. He'll make a good First Officer for the 5-EX."

A Captain, First Officer, Second Officer, Midshipman, and Boatswain were five men. Times six ships equaled thirty. Add in another thirty on leave/disabled list, serving as training officers or undergoing training themselves, and that gave a total of sixty men.

There were dozens of Officers and hundreds of enlisted personnel in support functions, but the amount of men with actual Hyper Space experience was incredibly small. All Hyper-Space Officers knew each other.

"Have you made travel arrangements?" Smith asked.

"Yes, sir," Moonwatcher replied. "I was just sticking around until you returned. Have you booked yours?"

Shaking his head, Smith answered, "I have to stick around for a couple of days to attend meetings. I'm going to pick up my gear and report in to B.O.Q."

"Yeah, the Bachelor Officers' Quarters is the way to go," Moonwatcher nodded. "When the yard workers show up in the morning, the ship is going to be a mad house."

"Well, enjoy your leave," Smith extended his right hand, "I'll see you when we get back."

When he climbed the access ladder into the interior of the ship, Commander Smith stopped by the mess deck to chat with the Lieutenant who was now the Officer of the Deck. After grabbing the duffel-bag and suitcase that he had packed that morning from his cabin, Smith headed towards the exit, calling out to the Officer of the Deck, "Take good care of my ship til I get back."

The man stood up and saluted, "Will do, Skipper. We'll even fill up the gas tank."

Descending the ladder, Smith headed for the guard gate to call a base taxi. But parked on the other side of the street was a hover-craft. A convertible. With the top down. Frowning in mild confusion and bewilderment as he stared at the female driver, he approached the vehicle.

"Hello, Spaceman," the twenty-something blonde behind the controls said when he was within speaking distance. "Need a lift?"

"Connie?" Smith asked. He had thought it was her. "What are you doing here?"

"Daddy called me during lunch to tell me your ship had landed," she answered. A scarf was tied around her head, keeping her hair in place and she was wearing sunglasses. And was as cute as ever. "I figured I would find you here."

After putting his gear in the trunk, he slid into the passenger seat. It was then that he noticed her belly. "Whoa!" he said. "Looks like some things have changed."

"Daddy didn't tell you that I was seven months pregnant?" she asked, putting the hover-craft in gear and pulling away from the curb. "I bet he didn't tell you that I was married, either? No, of course not. All you two think about are those flying saucers." She jerked her head towards the 5-EX as it grew smaller in the rear-view mirror. "So, where to?"

"They are not flying saucers," Smith corrected. "And I am going to the B.O.Q."

She nodded her head, steering towards their destination and grinning broadly. As Admiral Thorndike's daughter, she knew as well as anyone that the EX's were not called 'flying saucers'. She also knew that it drove the FTL people crazy to have them called that.

When they pulled up in front of the three story building, Smith thanked her for the ride and said that she, her husband, and himself should get together for dinner one evening. He was going to be there until at least Friday.

"We can do that," Connie replied slowly, nodding her head. Next she nodded towards the entrance to the B.O.Q., "Go ahead and check in, then we can grab a cup of coffee and catch up."

"What time does your husband get home?" he asked.

"Six. Six-thirty," she answered. "If he comes home at all." She leaned over and pressed the trunk release. "Go ahead. I'll wait."