Laughing, Mike stepped forward to take a few of the gummy bears, studiously avoiding the green ones. After all, it would be rude to refuse an offered treat, and Mama Davis had certainly taught him manners.

“Well, 1st Sergeant said it was best if I refrained from carrying a boom-box while on duty, or I’d have Lopez carting one around wherever we went,” he said, throwing a wink at Pauline. “I think everyone should have mandatory musical accompaniment, because that way I’d know who to avoid by listening for the scary organs and brass.”

“So, explosions, eh?” he asked Devi, quirking an eyebrow at her. “I’ve done a few of those in my time. Ever see a Chinese Type-100 Battle Tank get hit by a rocket? Oh man, the bang is pretty extraordinary. Especially once the ammunition stores catch fire, and all of the secondaries start cooking off…”

Mike trailed off, grinning into the middle distance at the pleasant memory, then came back to reality at a squawk from his radio.

[i] “Prophet, this is Hooligan. I’m at the Cryo-Bay. Gonna make a quick tour, let people know we’re around like you said. How copy? Over.” [/i]

“Hooligan, Prophet. Solid copy. Make some friends. Kiss some hands, shake some babies. Do your thing. Prophet out.”

The Marine released the shoulder-mic of his radio and returned his attention to the ladies before him, smiling to let them know they had his full attention again.

“Right, so where were we?”