F3 Tinkering

"I need to take the sublights off-line." Henry Sherman said.
"Why?" Flynn looked at him hard.
"I've got some improvements in mind. We'll boost the efficiency by twenty percent."
"You know, Hank, whenever you say that there's going to be an improvement in efficiency, it's by twenty percent."

"I like round numbers," Hank shrugged.
"Not too long after your efficiency experiments, something goes boom on my ship."
"Random coincidence. Given the size of the universe, and the laws of large numbers—"
"The next time something goes boom, you're paying for it. And I mean a brand new part."
"Flynn, that's—"
"Captain. I'm the captain. One more slip up, one more explosion, and I'll have you up in the rigging patching sail. While we're underway."
"EVA?"
"Bet your ass."
"Umm, I'll get back to you on the sublights. Let me run some numbers again." Sherman turned away, scratching figures down on his pad.
"You do that." Flynn walked the corridor, trying to get at an itch between his shoulder blades. Every time Hank Sherman wanted to tinker with something, that spot itched.