Mark “Coop” Cooper
Location: Alcubierre Bubble, Space
The 2223rd and 2224th Infantry Battalions had finally deployed to York Sector in the Rim, and they were flying there in style. Normally, transportation was handled by the fleet of troop transport ships the Fleet had ready, but things didn’t always work out the way they were supposed to; especially when it was an emergency deployment. Suddenly having to find a ride for two thousand grunts and all of their gear was a monumental logistical task. Luckily, this wasn’t the first time the Commonwealth had faced a situation like this.
The answer to the problem was interstellar cruise lines.
Coop thought that had come out of left field when him, Mike, and the replacements for the 2222nd were marched toward a half-kilometer long luxury liner. The crew stood next to the boarding ramp providing water, reassurance, and thanks for everyone’s service to the Commonwealth.
“The government owns a certain percentage of the industry. That way they earn some extra cash and always have transportation in case shit like this happens,” SSG Hightower explained as he led the way down to the lower decks where the HI enlisted were going to be berthed.
The SSG had a quick word with the officers and all the HI were able to break away from their units. Building espirit de corps and optimizing operational integrity by interunit cross training was the official line they were selling the brass, but really they just wanted to hang out and do their own thing.
That “own thing” wasn’t all fun and games.
Coop backed away and circled, shaking out his arms and spitting out a loogie thick with blood.
“Keep your hands up, Cooper.” SSG Hightower motioned a proper defensive stance. “You keep dropping your arms when you get tired. Suck it up.”
Among other things the five star luxury liner had available, one was a kick ass gym. It wasn’t nearly big enough for a bunch of ground-pounders who had nothing better to do for the multiple-day trip to New Lancashire other than work out, PMCS gear, or do pointless cleaning details. The place was always packed to the brim, but the one place that usually had a little bit of space was the anti-grav pit.
Normally, to blue-blooded guests the pit was a great way to simulate sky diving or any other number of stimulating activity. The HI had a different purpose for it, but it was no less stimulating.
The SSG had turned up the gravity to triple earth-norm and conducted combatives drills every few hours. That was why Coop was currently sweating, wore protective padding on his head, fists, and shins, and was bleeding from a cut lip.
Coop hadn’t taken the hit lying down though. Even if he lost, the SSG knew he’d been in a fight; but from the way things were going Coop thought he might actually stand a chance.
That left Coop hopping there with the SSG securely holding him by the calf. If this had been a real fight the SSG could have done some serious damage to Coop’s knee or ankle. All he had to do was yank one way and push the other and Coop would need a visit to the Battalion surgeon to repair torn tendons or broken bones.
But this was training, and thankfully SSG Hightower didn’t ruin Coop’s day. But that didn’t mean the SSG let him get away from looking like an idiot.
Coop hopped around trying in vain to lash out and score a hit on the SSG. He didn’t want to take the fight to the ground, the SSG’s ground game was light-years ahead of his, so he was left their trying to think of a way to counter the NCO’s iron grip.
The crowd around the edges of the pit ooohed and ahhhed as the two giants went at it. Bets were being taken, and people were screaming as they lost half their paycheck on these little bouts. Coop had put down a few bucks on himself to win this fight. The SSG had the better odds by a long shot, but you had to take risks to earn rewards.
For the life of him, Coop couldn’t remember the girl’s name. He had the curves of her body memorized, but her name continued to elude him.
She was a PFC from another unit so there was no conflict of interest. Not that Coop would have given a shit if there was. They’d been fucking like bunnies over the last couple of days, and he could tell from the look in her eyes that he’d be getting another type of workout when this fight was over. His vision was much better than an average human so he saw the way her smartcloth tightened as she breathed deeply. Some sweat dripped from her forehead as she watched the two HI go at it, and the way she slightly bit her bottom lip was all the nonverbal communication that Coop needed.
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He gave her a smile, which ignited an animal passion on her face, but that was cut short when a shot of pain rampaged through Coop’s body. The SSG still had his leg in a firm grip, and had noticed Coop was distracted; so he started repeatedly pummeling him in the hamstring. Getting punched in the hamstring hurt like a bitch, especially when the painful shockwave reverberated up toward his nuts.
Four punches and Coop lost his balance and went tumbling to the ground. Once he was down it was quick. The SSG fell on top of Coop, knocking the wind out of him, and using the momentary lung spasm to pass Coop’s guard. Straddling on top of him, the SSG unleashed a few punches to Coop’s unprotected face before pulling back.
“You’re done, Cooper. Not bad, but not great either. I will concede you were better than last time. “
Coop felt like an idiot thinking he could take the more experienced NCO, but he accepted the man’s hand and gingerly got to his feet. Most of the crowd was cheering, but there were a few boos for those who’d lost their money. Coop gave them all the finger and then locked eyes with,
“Ok, that’s it!” Hightower took control of the rambunctious group with a few loud words. “Shit, shower, shave and be ready for formation at 1330. We’ll see what the afternoon’s tasks are.”
That gave Coop and what’s-her-face time for a forty five minutes quicky. From the way his leg spasmed when he put pressure on it, he’d probably just have to lay there on his back and take it from her. Not that there was a problem with that.
She approached him, her eyes locked on like a tractor beam with another woman in tow. The other woman, a PVT by the rank insignia on her shoulder, had a hungry look on her face.
“Oh sweet baby Jesus.” Coop muttered to himself thinking about what fun the three of them could have together.
Of course, when something awesome was about to happen to him something had to immediately ruin it.
“Attention all personnel! Soldiers of the 2222nd and 2223rd report immediately to Observation Deck Alpha. Attention all personnel! Soldiers of the 2224th report to Observation Deck Bravo. Attention all personnel.” The message repeated.
Coop looked over to the SSG who just shrugged and started yelling for people to haul ass to their assigned observation deck. Coop looked back and the two women were gone, already scrambling to get where they needed to be. The loss of the three-way hurt Coop’s ball more than the hamstring punches, but he put that aside to get to observation deck alpha along with everyone else.
Observation Deck Alpha was mind-blowing. They’d styled it like an ancient Greek amphitheater. Everything was ornately crafted stone or marble. Even the seats looked cold and uncomfortable, but they looked out onto a thick piece of armorplast and beyond that was the open void of space – or it would be once they exited the Alcubierre Bubble.
The stadium-style seating only sat about five hundred, and since Coop got there later he was forced to stand in the back. Not that it mattered much. No one would be able to see over him anyway, so he leaned against the back wall and let people move around him. He kept his eyes peeled for,
Whatever the case he didn’t see her in the mass of people filtering in and mingling. They stood around aimlessly for five minutes before anything happened.
“All hands, prepare for transition in three…two…one…”
Coop watched the armorplast as they went from an Alcubierre bubble traveling faster than the speed of light to normal space travel. Everything in Alcubierre looked like white static. At “three” a tiny black dot appeared in the static and over the next two seconds it rapidly expanded as the liner shed the bubble and popped into normal space.
There was a collective gasp at the transition, and then the rapid return of conversation.
“Lock it up!” A tall woman with SGM insignia on her shoulders marched out onto the stage. “Battalion, Atten-hut!”
A thousand people braced to attention as a man with the golden stripe of a lieutenant commander walked out onto the stage.
“At ease.” A podium rose from the stone and the 2223rd’s commander stopped behind it.
Behind him the armorplast stared to display icons and information. Not only was it a protective barrier between the soldiers and space, but it was also the biggest holo-display Coop had ever seen. He recognized more of the icons from his training, and one stood out beyond all the others.
The theater went silent as everyone recognized the two crash buoys.
“Welcome to York Sector System 1552.” The LCDR’s voice was particularly emotional. “While we were all training, our brothers and sisters in the fleet were out here fighting and dying.” He tapped his PAD and information enhanced on the large display behind him.
DD 547 Barton and DD 783 Nightingale appeared along with a full rundown of their specs. Coop did some quick math and his stomach sank.
“We fought a battle with the Blockies in this system less than a month ago. We lost two destroyers in that battle. Don’t let the politicians or media try to convince you that this was a skirmish, or a tussle, or us and the Blockies just bloodying each other’s noses. This was a BATTLE, and we lost over five hundred spacers and infantry in that fight.” He fell silent and let everyone take that in.
“I’m not showing or telling you this to bum you out or ruin this nice little pleasure cruise we’ve been on for the last few days. I’m telling you this so this battalion is ready to get dropped in the shit. Make no mistake, this is a war zone. We are at war with the Blockies in this sector no matter what the politicians say in New Washington. If you come across a Blockie soldier you will engage and destroy them with extreme prejudice. Am I understood!?”
“Yes, Sir!” Coop winced as a thousand voices laced with anger roared through the enclosed space.
“Good.” The commander looked around and gave his soldiers a nod. “Sergeant Major.”
The woman strode up to the podium and started to run through a basic operations order of what they were getting into. Coop didn’t pay attention to most of it because this wasn’t his battalion, but he paid close attention when they went over the rules of engagement. Those would be universal throughout the sector.
There wasn’t any “only fire unless fired upon” crap. The enemy was defined and easily identifiable. The Blockies wouldn’t hide and neither would the Commonwealth. When they met in battle there would be no misunderstanding who was who.
Coop found himself wanting to go another ten rounds with SSG Hightower. His adrenaline was pumping and he was amped up when they were dismissed a few hours later. They were scheduled to be in the system for a while to drop off two companies to reinforce the brand new FOB Dietrich – named after the fallen task force commander who’d died in the battle.
The extra time gave Coop time to find Jeannette – it turned out that was her name. When he found her, he picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and marched her right back to his room. She didn’t complain. If anything, the action turned her on even more. The third woman didn’t tag along though. Jeannette wanted him all to herself.