Mark “Coop” Cooper
Location: Savannah City, New Savannah, United Commonwealth of Colonies
“How can you let your corporate overlords control us like this? They’re taking away all of our freedoms!”
“How can you be so naïve not to understand the realities of the galaxy? If we don’t stand with the Commonwealth then we lose that level of protection and what little autonomy we have. Then, we become a tasty snack for whatever smaller power wants to eat us up. Do you want to be absorbed by the New Caliphate, the Maccabbee Alliance, or Indian Empire?”
Coop watched as the two protesters closest to him yelled at one another over a hundred other voices. The voting center, which just a few days ago had been a run-of-the-mill rec center, on the corner of a scenic park and no one gives a fuck, had now become ground zero for the quintessential issue of this election cycle: should New Savannah remain in the Commonwealth.
Realistically, it wasn’t even an issue. The Commonwealth wouldn’t let the valuable planet go, the Representatives wouldn’t vote to allow them to secede, and Coop would end up back here doing something like the Rogue Island operation that had turned into a shit show; hopefully with better results.
It was an issue to the hundred plus protesters and counter protesters with holographic images lighting the space around them. Coop was a little sickened by the whole thing. By legitimizing the question of secession, which all the talking heads were now discussing, they were allowing the terrorists to win. People who weren’t thinking about it before were thinking about it now, and in Coop’s experience, some people were better off not thinking. They needed to live their comfortable little lives, on their idyllic little planet, because they wouldn’t like what they saw when they exited their little safe space.
“You…you…yeah…you, you corporate puppet. How do you sleep at night?” It took Coop a second to figure out the dude was talking at him. The protester was pointing an accusatory finger at him like he was identifying a perp in a lineup.
The smart thing would have been for Coop to keep his mouth shut, but Coop rarely did what was smart. He turned so he was facing the guy, saw the recognition dawn on the dude’s face that he was about to be addressed, and then let fly with the first comment that came to mind.
“With your mom,” Coop answered casually.
“Seriously?” Mike asked over TACCOM as the guy ranted and raved over the comment while the other group laughed at him. “You just had to go there.”
“Yep, because it’s chow time in ten, and we’re done here,” Coop smiled behind his helmet.
The three hour romp with Aiko felt like a lifetime ago, and it had been a second lifetime since their last session. Damn if that girl wasn’t the most enthusiastic, and flexible, person he’d ever met. She’d kept him enticed for the entire time they were together, and when he walked out of the room he had a crick in his neck, an ache in his back, and a slightly-painful empty sensation in his nuts. But that was par for the course with Aiko. Now, he was looking forward to seeing her again after this shift. The rest of the SRRT was arriving soon, and they’d begin training, so Coop would get to see her everyday…and possibly every night.
Despite it being the end of the shift, Coop kept his eyes peeled. If the New Savannah Liberation Movement still had eyes or ears in the police department then they would know when the shift change was occurring. Since that was when the defenses were at their most vulnerable, that was when they’d hit, if they were going to strike again. The governor was cracking down hard on the officially-branded domestic terrorist organization. The designation gave him healthy latitudes to deal with people associated with the group, and he was taking full advantage of it. Anyone within five blocks that had even uttered the phrase “Liberation for New Savannah” had been questioned by the planetary police.
The next ten minutes was tense, but it passed without incident. Coop spotted the Spyder on the horizon bringing the relief team before the team leader contacted him on TACCOM. It was another SGT from Charlie Company. Coop could tell from his tone that it irked the guy to call Coop a fellow SGT, but Coop really didn’t care about that right now. His mind was on the meatloaf the corporate DFAC was serving for dinner. He was hoping for a good meal, a solid eight hours, and maybe a romp between the sheets before he had to report to his new SRRT gig. He still had reservations about getting sliced up into molecules and transported through space, but he didn’t have much of a choice, and some stress relief activities seemed like an appropriate coping mechanism.
The handover to the new team was brief. Coop was with Mike on the perimeter while Nickelbaucher stood guard inside. There was no one voting today, so the voting center administrators weren’t there to watch the machines, but construction guys were patching the roof before the general election started. Nickelbaucher just made sure they didn’t tamper with anything.
With the handover complete, Coop hopped into the Spyder and rode back to base with the rest of his team. He made sure to send his finished evaluation report of Nickelbaucher’s performance to the LT, the NCOIC, and Nickelbaucher himself. It was up to the Battalion Commander whether or not to promote the PFC to CPL, and Coop’s evaluation was an overwhelming positive. Not only had the PFC been his number two throughout training, and taken the brunt of watching after Sterns, he’d also performed admirably in the retreat at New Lancashire. Coop had reviewed the footage from the PFC’s armor before writing up the report. Everything Coop had seen, heard, and experienced with Nickelbaucher said the guy was going places. Coop expected to see stripes on the guys CMU’s in ten years if he played his card right.
“Thank you, Sergeant,” was all Nickelbaucher said, and it was all Coop wanted him to say. He’d still see the guy, they just wouldn’t be working together anymore.
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“Tell the rest of the team it’s been fun.” Coop said his goodbye as he walked down the Spyder’s rear ramp.
“I don’t think ‘fun’ would be the best word to describe it, but I’ll relay the sentiments.” Nickelbaucher removed his helmet, gave Coop a respectful nod, and walked off.
“You just successfully completed your first command assignment, Sergeant Cooper.” Mike clapped Coop on the back. “Any words of wisdom for us lowly grunts?”
“If that’s a command assignment then my last name is Gold,” Coop chuckled. “I babysat two guys with a third to help me out. Just make sure they don’t kill themselves and you can count it as a win.” Coop relayed the sage advice as they hit up the armory, turned in their Busses, and stripped out of their armor.
They smelled like a funky ass crack that had been left to boil in the hot sun for eight hours, but that wasn’t going to stop Coop from getting his meatloaf. He had priorities, and a shower wasn’t at the top of that list. The DFAC was full of soldiers, a few spacers, and a mismatch of corporate employees. Each corporation had their own dining facility, but those places tended to cost money. The facility DFAC was paid by the Commonwealth, and the grub was free to anyone with a valid GIC. Coop scanned his at the automated station and pushed toward the buffet. It was either his size or stench that parted the throng of people, and he really didn’t care which it was as long as he got his meatloaf.
They’d arrived a little after the rush, but there were still two steaming piles of meat left. Coop grabbed both of them, because he wasn’t going to leave Mike hanging, and headed to a table. Mike joined him a second later, and they both dug in without another word. Standing around for hours might not seem exhausting, but it could be. Coop needed to refuel for what came next.
“What the hell, dudes. You smell like something crawled inside me, rotted up nice and good, then I shat it back out.” Aiko pinched her nose between two fingers.
“Hey, I’m eating here,” Coop retorted.
“I’m surprised you can get anything down sitting in the cloud of ass that is permeating everything. They’re going to have to break out some industrial cleaning solvent when you two leave.” Aiko didn’t even touch her food.
“I need the calories if you want an encore.” Coop grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“Ahhh isn’t that sweet,” she cooed. “You think you can hang with me two nights in a row.” Coop didn’t know if that was an insult or a challenge, and he never got to find out. “Too bad, we’re reporting downstairs in an hour.” Aiko showed of the bio-luminescent glow on the underside of her wrist. “You boys had better clean up, or the new boss is going to have a field day. I heard he’s a hard ass.”
“To spacers, every infantryman is a hard ass.” Mike joined the verbal sparring.
“I prefer an infantryman with something else hard,” Aiko winked. “Now, I’m going to eat over there so I can actually get this down. See you later, boys.” She got up and moved to another table to eat.
“I can’t believe you’re hitting that.” Mike actually sounded jealous.
“She gets to hit this,” Coop countered, knew he was the lucky one, but would never admit it.
They scarfed down the rest of their meal and headed back to their quarters. The corporate guys did it up right. They each had their own room, but best of all was that they had their own shower and shitter. Not having to scrub your balls in front of a dozen other dudes, or have them watch you combat drop a load, was a luxury no one outside the military really understood.
Freshly showered, freshly shaved, and with a new pair of CMUs, Coop made sure to look himself over in the mirror one last time. He’d learned the hard way that first impressions were important, and if Aiko was right about this new squad leader being a hard ass, then Coop didn’t want to give him any extra ammunition. If they guy was being pegged to lead an SRRT then he had to know his shit, and if he knew his shit, he’d be doing his homework on the team members. Coop’s own record wasn’t full of glowing recommendations, so he wanted to make sure he was squared away for the first meeting. He’d be able to slack off a bit the more he got familiar with the guy, the new team, and everyone’s styles, but right now he needed to look the part of the good soldier.
Coop met up with Mike in the hallway and it was clear he was thinking the same thing. “So, what do you think they’re going to have us do?” Coop asked as they made their way toward the central structure and the secure labs beneath it.
“Probably more of what we’ve done, just suckier. It’s going to be R&S level suck we’re going to have to wade through. They aren’t going to give these assignments to normal grunts. They’re going to need people who can really do some damage if they’re going to get their bang for their buck on these things.”
“Great.” Coop wasn’t too excited about that. He was comfortable in his HI role. He didn’t want to be all super-duper soldier boy now. Those die hards volunteered for the R&S assignments for a reason. You had to be a little crazy to do that shit.
“I bet we’ll get some cool new gear though. They aren’t gonna put us in one of the best ships in the fleet and give us V2s. Hopefully they’ve got something put together that will actually allow us to scratch the paint on those Windsor mechs.
Coop wasn’t holding his breath. If the Ministry of War was anything like the PHA bureaucrats, then it was like pulling teeth to get any extra funding out of them. Still, it was nice to imagine, and Coop imagined piloting one of those big-ass mechs into battle as they rode the big lift down below the surface of the planet.
The scene was virtually the same when they arrived as the first time Coop had been down here. Engineers and techs were swarming over Argo like ants, and there was a group of people standing next to it. Aiko was in that group, but she looked like a midget compared to everyone else. Coop easily recognized the four newcomers. They all had bags sitting on the ground next to them, and they were all big, HI level big; even the two whose asses clearly identified them as female.
“Cooper, Enders, move your asses!” SSG Hightower barked. He was standing next to the LT and LCDR Gold. The LT looked like someone had fucked her good last night. She was all smiles, but the LCDR might not have been the one doing the boning based on his expression.
“Cooper, Mark Cooper?” A voice from the past stopped Coop in his tracks. That voice had chewed him a new asshole on a few occasions, and he’d never expected to hear it again.
“Gunney?” Coop heard the shock in his own voice.
“Sergeant Cooper?” GYSGT Cunningham turned around and nodded toward the chevrons on Coop’s CMUs. “It appears I got into the infantry at the wrong time. It took you a year to make E5, it took me over twenty to make E7. There is something wrong with that picture.”
The GYSGT’s face was still beautiful and unyielding, but Coop thought he saw a smile twisting her lips upward.
“Ain’t this a reunion for the books,” Mike smiled, and Coop followed his eyes to the other woman standing next to the GYSGT.
If your heart could literally skip a beat, not that corny shit in trashy romance novels that gets a girl’s panties in a bunch; but actual, physical cardiorythmic skipping, then Coop was pretty sure it happened. He tried to stop his jaw from dropping and failed. Then he tried to keep his eyes from darting to Aiko and back.
Epic fail.
Eve Berg regarded Coop like she wasn’t sure what she was looking at. Then she followed his eyes. She did a couple back-and-forths, just like Coop, but when her eyes settled back on him her lips twisted in a most unwanted direction.
“Sergeant Cooper, you remember Sergeant Berg.” GYSGT Cunningham was taking too much pleasure in the moment as Eve scowled at Coop for the first time in the better part of a year.