“You want a what?” the captain stammered, looking flustered.
“Geist, Commie, I thought I was the half-deaf one. I said we want a vacation,” Gunny said, crossing his arms over his bare chest. With the bandages wound around his head like a turban, he reminded the COM of a genie.
“That’s what I’m not getting, Gunny. What do you mean a vacation? We can’t give you more than a week of Nod, you’ll die.”
“Naw, we Nodded plenty. What we want is a vay-cay-shun. 37th scored big on this mission. We brought back the black gunk, the glass snow, them starfish babies, all kinds great jit. Smarts must be squirtin’.”
“Language, Gunny,” the captain cautioned. His cheeks burned at the thought of Gunny saying that in front of a Smart. It would probably get the whole Polybius sent to sensitivity reeducation.
“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. I mean, I don’t hear ya. My hearing won’t be a hundo for what, three weeks minimum?”
“That’s what the doc says.”
“And I can’t go on missions if I can’t hear good.”
“Well…you could with a waiver. I’d rather you didn’t, though.”
“You need ears on a whale. Ain’t just me. ‘Bout half the platoon can’t hear jit right now. Bango really went all out.”
“Six bars,” the COM said, shaking his head in amazement. The captain knew a lot about explosives. Gunny had always wondered if that was how he got all scarred up.
“We lost Sticky, Choppa, Yank, Yancy, Esses, Aziz, Lefty, an’ Bonzo. That’s a third of the platoon.”
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“More than a third. Thirty-four-point-seventy-eight percent, Gunny.”
“Lefty was in there. He was always short a couple percent. Call it a third. The point is, we want a vacation.”
“Tardigrade Marines don’t get vacations.”
“Well, why not?”
The COM had to stop and think about it.
“I don’t know. Maybe none of them ever asked. T.A.R.D.S. just want to get on whales.”
“Well, I’m asking. Pretty please. My unit has earned some cod-clam R&R.”
“There’s no way I can get the admiral to go for it.” The COM turned up his palms, trying to say it was out of his hands. Gunny stared him down. He wasn’t fooled.
“We can take this boat, Commie,” Gunny said, almost too quiet to be heard.
The chief froze. Of course, they could. Even with most of them dead, and many recovering from serious injuries, the T.A.R.D.S. could absolutely take control of the Polybius.
“Are you threatening to mutiny?” The captain asked, stiffening. Even though he knew they would lose the battle horribly, he couldn’t let the statement go unchecked.
“Pshaw. ‘Course not, Commie. Just sayin’, between you and me, I think the boys have had about enough whalin’ for a bit. We want to do somethin’ different. Give us a month! Lt. Jeanie says we’re due for an overhaul on the Rook Drive, anyhow.”
The COM scowled. Of course, Lt. Jeanie was one of the conspirators. He wondered if she would even side with the humans in a mutiny.
“Where would you even go? You’ve never been off a ship in your life Gunny.”
“We wanna go fishing!” Gunny demanded.
The COM couldn’t help but laugh.
“Real fishing! On water, not black gunk! No guns! With a boat that floats. Make sure it’s tough enough for T.A.R.D.S. Plenty of Grog! And I want a captain hat!”
“The admiral’s gonna have my ass,” the COM said, shaking his head ruefully.
“Watch out, Commie, I hear he’s got a whopper,” Gunny cracked.
The COM’s smile faded. He knew where Gunny had come by that piece of information. He put a hand on Gunny’s shoulder, half-expecting the Marine to bat it away, but he didn’t.
“He was a good pilot, Gunny. Best I’ve ever seen.”
“He was the best of us. The bravest, the smartest, the fastest. But in the end, he was dumber than Heafs. I miss him.” Gunny sniffed. “I miss all of ‘em. Get us our chuckin’ vacation, Commie.”
“Aye-aye, Gunny,” the captain agreed. He returned Gunny’s salute.