Eve Berg
Location: Syracuse, United Commonwealth of Colonies
A soldier walks into a bar. It sounded like that start of a bad joke that either ended in getting shitfaced or a bar fight. As Eve surveyed the clientele of the drinking establishment she concluded it could go either way. There were a lot of people in the gray CMUs of the Commonwealth. A decent chunk was Fleet, but there was a fair amount of Infantry there as well. On top of that, about a quarter of the room was filled with men and women in the black and gold of the Syracuse Defense Force (SDF).
From what she heard, the SDF was a legit defense force. The institutions mandated by Commonwealth law ran the gauntlet between professional fighting organizations and useless groups of bodies that ate up resources. The Commonwealth by nature didn’t butt into individual systems a lot, but there were some points they were iron clad about. Military matters were one of them. A system needed to maintain its PDCs and orbital fortresses. The Commonwealth usually paid to construct them, and in some systems even manned them, but the Fleet and Infantry only had so many bodies to throw around between hundreds of systems. It preferred to muster its strength at staging points like Mars, Asgard System, Wolvesbain, and a few others rather than deploy piecemeal across the galaxy. A lot of systems were tasked to defend themselves with a small garrison of regular troops to help train when they weren’t conducting other mission essential tasks.
Syracuse was a major industrial system for the Commonwealth. It was a junction system, and had incalculable raw materials to be mined. On top of all of that it was a sector capitol which didn’t amount to much except for an increase in funds. Because of its importance, the Infantry kept a brigade and a half permanently stationed on Syracuse, manned half of the two-dozen PDCs, and routinely had a decent amount of warships in orbit. Even with that, the brunt of the system defense fell to the SDF. They had squadrons of capitol ships, several divisions-worth of trained soldiers, and their gear was nearly up-to-date. They were a fine fighting force by any measure, but having the entire might of the Commonwealth fleet and its attached Infantry in their system was making them a little uneasy…and testy. They were proud of their little army and navy, and they didn’t like being looked down on by anyone.
It was a given that when one proud fighting group met another proud fighting group there was bound to be some tension, and the quicker Third Fleet got on its way the better.
Those men and women in black and gold stuck to themselves in the back of the room while the rowdier Commonwealth soldiers and spacers bordered on loud and obnoxious. A woman with Eve’s looks and build stepping into the mix didn’t help. It was an endless stream of catcalls as she made her way to where her party was waiting for her.
GYSGT Cunningham was sitting next to a pretty woman eve didn’t know. From the way she uneasily looked around her, Eve guessed she wasn’t military.
On the other side of the GYSGT was another familiar face. SGM Queen had a disappointed frown on his face. If Eve had to guess, he’d learned the GYSGT batted for the opposite team when she showed up with her lady friend tonight. That ended any campaigns he might have been planning.
“Gunney, Sergeant Major,” Eve ignored the latest crack about her fine ass and took a seat.
“Private…I mean Corporal Berg.” The GYSGT’s smile was just a little too big to be completely sober. She reached across the table and gave Eve a forceful pat on the shoulder right where her new two chevrons were.
Eve could help but wince a little. Sick bay had fixed her up lickety-split, but the new bone material needed time to set. She just couldn’t do any strenuous physical activity for the next twenty-four hours or get in any more fights. The forceful slap just jostled her a little, and got a laugh out of the GYSGT.
“She handled it like a champ.” The SGM help up his glass to Eve before taking a gulp and raising his hand. “Next round is on me.”
“So, Gunney, why am I here?” Eve finally broke the silence after a beer.
The Gunney had been giggling and whispering stuff in her date’s ear, something totally un-Gunney-like, but sweet in its own way. Still, this was everyone’s last weekend on this rock before spending the net month in space followed by an undeterminable amount of time fighting for their lives. Some people in this bar might not even make it back. It was only natural for people to want to enjoy themselves. Eve might like the GYSGT and SGM, and didn’t want to serve under many others when the bullets started flying, but she still ahd her own plans for the weekend. That did not include spending a lot of time with senior NCOs.
“You’re on my team, Berg. I asked for you because I trained you and know you can handle yourself.” The GYSGT said matter-of-factly. “I just wanted to let you know the shitstorm we’re going to be stepping into. Babe, could you go grab us another round please?” The GYSGT flashed her a credit chip with a healthy amount of dollars on it. The girl read between the lines and went to the crowded bar so the soldiers could talk.
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“The 2511th’s Alpha Company is a good unit. It’s got a solid LT who’s been with the unit for half a decade. It’s got the added benefit of having a person other than its NCOIC being the HI for the unit. That helps my job tremendously. Command and control is difficult enough when I’m also dealing with the company’s indirect fire missions.” Her face grew solemn with some memory before she shook herself. “But even if my company is great, it still doesn’t mean things are going to go smoothly. Mission to seize Alcubierre Launchers is some of the most dangerous missions there are.”
“The power sources on these things are unimaginable. Kilometers-long generators power the devices that can slingshot full fleets into FTL. There is also exotic matter everywhere. They have quantum devices to receive instantaneous signals halfway across human-explored space, and those are just a few things. These are literally mankind’s greatest invention and its most valued possession rolled into one. The fight we are going to engage in will be bloody, brutal, and we’ll take a lot of casualties, which is why I’ve got a full five-person Ranger fire team attached to my company.”
“Because of the shitstorm we’re about to walk into, I just wanted to sit down with you and get your feelings.”
“You’re not some boot fresh out of Basic that doesn’t know their fart from a NBC attack,” the GYSGT smiled and leaned back in her seat. “You’re a valued member of my team who’s been in the suck a lot for someone your age, and I want your impression of things. You can even tell me you’re pissed I volunteered you for this. I don’t give a shit if you are, but I won’t hold it against you if you want to rant a little.”
That was when the GYSGT’s date showed up with the beers. Eve grabbed hers before it hit the table and chugged it.
The night ended with a bar fight and getting shitfaced, so it seemed those corny bar jokes had a ring of truth to them after all.
***
Mark “Coop” Cooper
Location: CWS Argo, United Commonwealth of Colonies
“Attention, prepare for transition in t-minus one minute.”
When the announcement for their transition into System 1861 came over the intercom Coop was taking a dump. Something the cook had whipped up wasn’t sitting well with him. He’d heard a rumor back on Abe that if you were taking a shit during a transition it would clear out your system. He had no idea if it was true or not, but the painful rumbling in his stomach was something he needed to get rid of. This could evolve from a simple scouting mission to a combat operation in a heartbeat and he didn’t want to shit his suit.
He didn’t want to go to sick bay and be that little bitch complaining of a stomach ache, so he was determined to do everything he could before going there. He’d never hear the end of it from the regular grunts, and as HI he was supposed to be the toughest of them all. He wasn’t going to be taken down by some bad soy.
“Hello, is anyone in here?” The voice was female and vaguely familiar. It was LT Briggs, the Argo’s XO.
More than one marine had taken a run at her over the past few days, and she’d professionally rebuffed them all. Coop didn’t even try to go there. Spacer Lee was just about all he could handle. She was a bit of a freak and he loved it. However, not actively chasing the hot officer and letting her see him like this were two totally different things.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Coop tried to act as nonchalantly as possible while sitting on the porcelain throne with a audibly rumbling stomach.
“We’re about to transition…”
“Roger that, Ma’am.”
“Ok,” there was a short pause. “Good luck.”
If Coop was any other self-respecting person he would have been mortified. He was still embarrassed. A hot girl knowing what was happening would always have that effect, but it was bearable.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to think about it much because less than five seconds later everything shifted as Argo dropped out of FTL into System 1861.
“Holy shit!” Coop gripped the railing of the metal stall. He now had proof that the transition shit was legit.
After taking a minute to collect himself, Coop cleaned up and headed toward the bridge. The Argo’s small space didn’t have a lot of room for anyone aside from the bridge crew. Normally, it would have been the marine squad leader. There were a few of those present, but it became clear quickly that the skipper trusted the HI trooper onboard. So, Coop was privy to stuff that a normal PFC wasn’t.
He was still a PFC. The CPL paperwork hadn’t gone through yet, and even if it did, he wouldn’t learn about it until they got back to New Lancashire. That sucked for this mission. If they got into some shit that qualified them for combat pay Coop would get paid at the PFC rate. The War Department was stingy like that.
Coop studied the holo-tank in the center of the bridge as it slowly expanded to a light-minute out from the gunboat. The ES armor was active for transition, but once it became clear there wasn’t an ambush waiting they dropped the shielding to divert more power to the engines.
“XO, how long has it been since the last warship passed through this system?” Ben asked from his command chair in the center of the bridge.
“Eight years, Sir.” The XO was at her own station watching her screens and adjusting sensors to get a better view of the space around them.
“What was the status of the system then?”
“Abandoned and unoccupied, Sir.”
“Prepare to launch drones.” Ben was leaning back in his seat and staring intently at the holo-tank.
Coop found the whole thing boring as hell. That was space combat. Staring at a holo-tank watching icons disappear until you got yourself blown up. Ground combat might be terrifying, but it beat sitting on your ass all day long.
“Drones prepared, Sir.”
“Don’t get them too close to the targets and program them for indirect approaches. We’ll set course for this world.” Ben selected the icon for the third planet in the system. It was too far out to be a goldilocks world, but with a little work it could be terraformed.
More importantly, it sat outside of the interior asteroid belt where two of their three potential targets were located. If there was anything at those two targets, parking Argo in orbit around the planet gave them an excellent tactical position to intercept or outright destroy. In the planet’s current orbit, they’d be lined up perfectly.
Coop took that as a good sign of what was to come.