"I don't like the word 'Navy'," Garlock said. "It's tied definitely to warfare. How about calling it the 'Galactic Service'? Applicable to either war or peace. Brass Hats will think of us in terms of war, even though we will actually work for peace. Any objections?" There were no objections. "About the uniforms," Lola said, eagerly. "Space-black and star-white, with chromium comets and things on the shoulders...." "To hell with uniforms," Garlock broke in. "Why do women have to go off the deep end on clothes?" "She's right--you're wrong, Clee," James said. "Without a uniform you won't get off the ground, not even with the Society. And you'll be talking to Top Planetary Brass. Also, they're Gunthered plenty--you can feel their Op field clear out here." "Could be," Garlock conceded. "Okay, you girls dope it out to suit yourselves. But think you can stand it, Belle, to wear more than twelve square inches of clothes?" "Wait 'til you see it, chum. I've been designing a uniform for myself for positively _years_." "I can't wait. And you're a captain, of course." "Huh? You can't have two cap.... Oh, I see. Primes. I appreciate that, Clee. Thanks." "Hold on, both of you," James said. "You haven't thought this through far enough. Suppose we meet forces already organized? Better start high than low. You've got to be top admiral, Clee." "Rocket-oil! Suppose we don't find anything at all?" "You're right, Jim," Belle said. "Clee, you talk like a man with a paper nose. It's _you_ who's been yowling for two solid years about being ready for _anything_. We've got to do just that." "Correction accepted. Brief me." "Ranks should be different from those of United Worlds. They should be descriptive, but impressive. Tops could be Galactic Admiral. That's you. Vice Galactic Admiral; me...." "Galactic Vice Admiral would be better," Lola said. "Accepted. Those two we'll make stick come hell or space-warps. Right?" Garlock did not reply immediately. "Up to either one of two points," he agreed, finally. "What points?" "War, or being out-Gunthered. Top Gunther takes top place; man, woman, bird, beast, fish, or bug-eyed monster." "Oh." Belle was staggered for a moment. "No war, of course. As to the other ... I hadn't thought of that." "There are a lot of things none of us has thought of, but as amended I'll buy it." "Then several Regional Admirals, each with his Regional Vice Admiral. Then System Admirals and Vices, and World or Planetary--naming the planet, you know--Admirals and Vices. Let the various Galaxian Societies take over from there down. How do you like _them_ potatoes, Buster?" "Nice. And formal address, intra-ship, will be Mister and Miss. Jim and Brownie?" They liked it. "Where do we fit in?" James asked. "Pick your own spots," Garlock said. "If we stick to the Solar System we aren't so apt to get bumped by Primes. So make me Solar System Admiral and Brownie my Vice."