"Help me Private Hudson, you're my only hope"

I can't believe that I just said that. What a horrible, horrible... ah, I'm never going to live this down.

"Well well well," Hudson laughed. "Looks like big Mr. Fancypants needs my help."

"Hudson," I sighed. "Will you just--"

"Yep," Hudson continued. "Big Mr. Fancy Intergalactic Gladiator comes running to little ole me for help."

"Hudson," I tried again. "Could I just tell--"

"Yes sirrree," he interrupted again. "Looks like Mr. 'I-Work-Alone,-I-Don't-Need-Anyone's-Help' needs a little help after all. A little help from ole Dirty Dingus McGee." He drove his thumb into his chest for emphasis.

"Hudson, I just need--"

"Wellsy wellsy wellsy, looks like Captain Herohead has to find help from Humble Private Hudson after all."

"HUDSON!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

"What?"

"Do you want to help or not?"

"I don't know," he rubbed his chin 'thoughtfully.' "I am awfully busy here and I certainly couldn't afford to take leave because I am so busy."

"Hudson, you've probably never taken leave in your entire career in the Colonial Marines. You've got to have 8 years of leave saved up."

"Yeah, well, my lieutenant needs me here," said Hudson, holding his head high. "Every time I go to his office to see him, he sends me somewhere to take care of something very important."

"Hudson, do you want to go on an exciting adventure, full of mystery and danger or not?" I ask.

"OK," he answered. "I'll tell you what. If you can sing the Colonial Marines Hymm, I'll go with you."

"I am not going to sing that," I sighed.

"If you want me to come, you will," he asserted.

"I said I'm not."

"Oh yes you are."

"Oh no I'm not."

"Oh yes, you are."

"Oh no I'm not."

"Oh yes you are."

"Oh no I'm not."

"Oh yes you are."

"Oh no I are."

"Oh yes you're not."

"Oh no you aren't."

"Oh yes I am."

"Oh no you you're not."

"Oh yes I am."

"Oh no you you're not."

"Oh yes I am!" Hudson yelled. "I told you that I am going to sing it, and that's final!"

"OK, OK," I held up my hands. "Just do it, then."

Hudson stood at rigid attention, his eyes got just a little bit glossy and he opened his mouth to sing:

"From the halls of Metaluna
To the shores of Tirol III
We will fight our galaxy's battles
On the land, space, and/or sea
First to fight for right and freedom
And for honor of the Queen;
We are proud to fight and die
We're the United Space Marines."

"There," I said. "That sounded nice. Was that so tough?"

"OK, enough talk," Hudson answered. "Time for action. Where are we heading?"

"First, we need to get a pilot," I answered. "With whatever is affecting me, I can't trust myself to fly safely."

"Get a pilot, check," Hudson hopped up and down, ready to go. "Then where?"

"Then, it's Sector 7G."

"Do you mean Sector 7G, one of the most dangerous, inhospitable sectors of the galaxy?"

"Yes," I answered. "Thank you for clearing up that plot point."

"Oh man..."