Overhaul

[Note: No Sex In This Chapter]
As soon as Commander Richard Smith entered the waiting area of Admiral Thorndike's suite of offices at Celestial Command, the Yeoman behind the desk pressed the intercom and announced his arrival. He had recognized Smith on sight. The 'squawk box' boomed back, "Send him in!"

The Yeoman nodded and Smith returned it in kind as he stepped into the inner sanctum of the 'Father of the Hyper Space Navy'.

"Richard!" the Admiral thundered, coming around from behind his desk with his hand extended. As he pumped Smith's hand, he gestured to a chair facing his huge mahogany desk. Not the standard-issue gray metal, but actual wood. After the two men sat down, the Admiral extracted a humidor and a circular metal ashtray from a lower desk drawer. When he opened the lid and held it out towards the Commanding Officer of the 5-EX, Smith selected one and held it up to his nose to inhale the aroma. Truth be told, he had no idea what a good cigar smelled like. The only time he ever smoked one was in the Admiral's office.

A steady low hum signalled that the Admiral had pressed the button under the edge of his desk to activate the special exhaust system he had installed. Picking up the model of a spaceship that contained a lighter, he flipped the nose cone back and flicked it into flame to light first Smith's cigar, and then his own.

"I only hope I'm in deep space when they hold your Court Martial for smuggling," Smith commented as he blew out a cloud of gray smoke. "I would hate to be called as a witness for the prosecution."

"Blah!" the Admiral scoffed. "What type of Naval Officer would I be if I didn't know enough about contraband to skirt the regulations?"

Tobacco had been illegal for well over a century.

"I assume that you've heard about the retro-fit project?" he asked. This was not actually an official briefing, that would come later. Briefing after briefing would come later. But the Admiral wanted to chat with the Commanding Officer of one of 'his ships' (the Admiral's ships) before Smith spoke with anyone else. In fact, Smith had come directly here as soon as the 5-EX had set down, leaving the acting First Officer in charge of dealing with customs, representatives from the shipyard, and the Officer from the Port Captain's office.

"Just what the driver told be on the way over here," Smith replied.

"Ah!" the Admiral nodded. "Well, there is a Professor Williams who has developed a duotronic computer that will be able to steer and navigate the EX's while they are in Hyper Space. We'll still keep two men on watch, but they will be like a pilot and co-pilot when an airplane is on 'iron mike'. Providing human oversight in case something goes wrong. The only time we'll need a five-man crew in the conn is when the ship enters and leaves Hyper Space. And, of course, when flying at sub-light speed. We'll be able to drastically reduce the size of the crew."

"Maybe you can increase the size of our quarters," Smith offered. During the days of the water-navies, members of the Submarine Service wore a badge depicting dolphins on their chests. It was a standing joke that members of the EX Service should wear sardines in a can.

"You wish," the Admiral grinned. "The crew's bunks are being ripped out, but in their place will be two small staterooms for passengers."

"Small?" Smith replied. "They'll have to be microscopic."

"About the size of a room on the Hindenburg or a Twentieth Century railroad train," the Admiral shrugged. Like most military men, he was obsessed by history. "Anyway, the passengers will be on government business. People who need to be at another star system in a matter of weeks rather than months or years. You know. Diplomats, scientists, engineers. Those sort of people."

"About how long will the overhaul take, Sir?" Smith asked the question countless other Captains have asked through the ages.

"The 2-EX was completed in six months," the Admiral answered. "The 4-EX is nearing the final stages. She's been laid up for three months. Hopefully your ship, the 5-EX, will be completed in two."

Knocking the ash from the end of his cigar into the metal receptacle, the Admiral continued, "We'll go over the details tomorrow morning. Oh nine hundred in the conference room here." He chuckled. "Actually, you'll be in non-stop meetings for the next two days. But by Friday you should be able to start your leave."

He took a drag off his stogie. "Your crew, of course, can shove off as soon as the Port Captain's rep accepts command of the ship. And speaking of crew . . ."