"It's just what you ordered, Bones." Kirk said mildly, trying not to laugh.
"'Shore leave' is what I ordered!" McCoy said. Light duty' isn't the same. It doesn't even sound the same! Listen to me carefully, Jim. 'Light duty'. 'Shore leave'. See? Completely different vowel sounds. Totally opposite consonants. And nowhere NEAR the same meaning."
"The doctor is essentially correct," Spock said, drawing a snort from McCoy. "Although his linguistic analysis is regrettably lacking in precision, he has expressed the core of the matter."
"Thank you, I think. Jim, you can't keep these people going like this! They need a proper rest after that last bit of business, not just a few hours more sleep!"
"I know that, you know that, and Spock apparently knows that," Kirk said patiently. "If Starfleet knew that, we wouldn't be having this conversation. There's nothing I can do about it, Bones. Just draw up the light duty rotation roster on an as-needs basis and get back to me when you're done." He stood up, stretched a kink in his back where a bad fall on the last landing party had not quite settled, and went on, "And now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have a lot of reading to catch up on. Three hundred years of military and political history, to be exact."
"Captain," Spock said, "to be exact you would have to say 'Three hundred and 17 years of military history. For complete accuracy, using the Vocheron accounts of the these most recent hostilities, three hundred and seventeen years, three months, fourteen days and-"
"Spock." said Kirk wearily. His First Officer subsided. "Is there any ship's business that can't wait until we're underway?"
"No, captain."
"Good. I'll be in my quarters, gentlemen, catching up on my education."