Chapter 10 – My Squad Atricious (page 5 of 10)

“Just that?” I asked half aghastedly. “All this debate and now you’ll just buckle and throw us in to space without speaking your own two-bit bits of two-cents?”

Cappy smiled upside-down, as if faux frowning in inverse, and said, “We’re almost three mjarnacs away from Phobodiemos. We were cleared for galactic leap ten minutes ago.”

My God this journey was already reminding me how burnt out I was on this thing that I do like none other.

Burggl was breathing heavily, and it wasn’t sexy a bit. “Do you have something to say, Slackman?” I asked him.

He was looking a bit desiccated and clammy around the edges. “This is no time for star-strikery, Slackman, I’ll give you my autograph later. You need to get your head back in the game.”

“Sorry, Tek,” said Slackman, pumping his left arm like he was trying to draw liquid from the depths of a child-rearing water well. “I just don’t feel so good. My chest is all inflated and I’m going numb in port-side places.”

I’d worked with Slackman for a long time and his drama queen nonsense had never gotten old to me. Were it not for his failing health I’d have never taken on his dumb brother, Little N. “Somebody toss him his medication already, we’ve got work to do.”

“Um, Tek,” said Cappy, looking more like the prophet Ernest Borgnine than ever, “we don’t have any medication for him, we had to take it off the list to buy you the half ton of panda burgers. It took up the money and time we needed to find his medication.”

Slackman was listing like a kregs in his mono-man bench, his gaze distant, his eyes glassing over. “We don’t have time for this, Burggl,” I said, encouraging him like an insecure, middle-aged football coach living counter-cariously through his rag tag band of no-talent scrimmageers, “you have to pull through this.”

“I’ll do it for you, Tek,” he muttered from his spaghetti-western dry mouth. “I’m ready to fight, Tek, just put me in the game.”

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