Mark “Coop” Cooper
Location: Stewart-Benning Training Center, Earth, United Commonwealth of Colonies
“Oh god…oh GOD…OHHHHH…” Coop’s entire body spasmed with ecstasy. He was pretty sure his eyes rolled back into his head and his newest leg shook like a post-combat adrenaline crash.
Eve sat on top of him, grinding furiously. Her teeth bit her lower lip nearly to the point of drawing blood. Her fingernails dug into his chest and she held the pose of naked, porn-fantasy perfection for a heartbeat before collapsing against his chest.
“Fuckin’ A, Sergeant,” Coop wrapped her in a hug and luxuriated in the wave of contentment that passed over him. Eve didn’t say a word. She breathed deeply for a few seconds before pulling herself up and off him. “What, no cuddles?” he half joked as he got a view of her ass that he hadn’t enjoyed nearly enough.
She went to the kitchen counter, grabbed a nutrient bar, and tossed it to him. “Reload, big boy,” she winked and sauntered into the bathroom.
“Can I at least get some water!” he coughed. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton.
Technically, neither of them should be engaging in any physically stimulating activity for the next few days. The medical profiles from their limb regeneration and reattachment surgeries were still in effect. Like most things in life, he took that as a suggestion, not a rule, and was glad Eve did too. They’d been having weekend fuckfests since she started her brief tenure at the NCO academy, and he was pretty sure they’d both go crazy if they didn’t have the time to unwind.
It had been a few months since the Battle of Harper’s Junction. The Prime Minister was busy doing a war hero tour with Admiral Ward at her side. All had been quiet on the Windsor front since the spanking they’d received on the retaken planet, and a semblance of normalcy had returned to the men and women of the Commonwealth Armed Forces. Whatever had happened with the rest of the SRRT was a mystery. Coop and Eve had their orders and they departed for Earth shortly after arriving back on Thor and receiving their new limbs at the fleet hospital there.
The only other time they saw the LT, LCDR Gold, GYSGT Cunningham, the SGM, SSG Hightower, or Mike was at Sullivan’s funeral. Aiko hadn’t shown up, or answered any of his MILNET messages. The wounded warrior battalion Coop and Eve were assigned to granted them leave for the event. They took a ship out to the industrial shit ball Sullivan had called home not long after arriving back on Earth. Friends and family of the dead SGT were there in force. Apparently, he was a popular guy. Another dozen Rangers had showed up from various units he’d served in during his time in the elite infantry outfit. It was a dignified service, but the main takeaway for Coop was he barely knew the SGT at all. They’d been on the same team for months, but he spent all his time with Mike, Eve, and the GYSGT. He didn’t even know the man had a wife. Everyone came up to him and asked how he’d died, and he had to give them the same line, “he died heroically in combat, but I can’t elaborate.”
To the civilian world the SRRT teams were a shiny, new, golden toy, and the government wasn’t going out of its way to talk about the ones who’d died unless they did something truly heroic. Getting killed by an unidentified exploding munition while not gunning down a company of Windsor douches in the process didn’t fit that bill. However, the brass did authorize special badges to the team members of the elite units. Coop got to wear his in good standing as long as he abided by the gag order the brass put in place concerning the Windsor Queen slipping between his fingers.
He wore his badge proudly on the shoulder opposite his two CPL chevrons. Unlike most teams, his team had a star attached to theirs for the number of splitstreams they’d done. As far as Coop knew, they were the only team to do multiple jumps into hostile territory, survive, but more importantly, they were only ones to fight aliens.
To Coop, that made him a big fucking deal, and he hoped the rest of the recruiting class he was about to start thought the same.
Eve emerged from the bathroom in all her feminine glory. Despite multiple rounds of the no-pants dance, Coop still felt himself stir at the sight of her. Even though he knew she found him sexually appealing, it wasn’t just his rugged good looks that were to blame for the weekend sex marathons.
“So, how’s the good Master Sergeant?” he asked as she tossed him a bottle of water laced with electrolytes.
Eve gave a predictable groan and came to lay down beside him. The slight distraction would give him a few minutes to rehydrate before he gave it back to her with interest.
“I swear the last time Klaus saw combat was a dust up with the Blockies half a century ago. He’s trying to sit there like a subject matter expert in battle drills and isn’t even taking into consideration how new shield tech has altered the battlefield.” She took a deep breath and tried to exhale her frustrations.
Master Sergeant Jeremiah Klaus was going to receive a nice Christmas letter from Coop. The man single handedly drove Eve up a wall and into Coop’s bed. She was not a woman who handled frustration easily, she needed to work it out in whatever way possible.
“I’m sure you were a good little student and said, ‘yes master sergeant…of course master sergeant…you’re a tactical genius master sergeant’,” Coop grinned, and received a smack to the shoulder for being a smart ass.
“I’m sure my NCOER for the course is going to say how disruptive I’ve been, but I’ll contest it and show the IOR footage of our exchanges,” Eve tapped her head. Sometimes it was a good thing to have an alien poop nugget in your brain that recorded everything you saw.
“That and your last name will probably get the school’s commandant to rethink their training curriculum.” This time he earned himself a much more forceful smack.
Eve didn’t like to trade off her name. He knew this, but he wasn’t naïve enough to think that no one else looked at something with Berg on it and didn’t wonder if the Chief of Naval Intelligence had eyes on them. In his experience, he preferred to plan for the worst case scenario, which was why he desperately hoped Eve’s mother didn’t have eyes on his enlisted quarters. The stuff he’d done to her daughter in this studio apartment would probably end up with him in front of a firing squad.
“Look on the bright side, you graduate tomorrow at 0800, we’ll grab lunch, and then we report in at 1300 for our recruiting class,” he pulled her close and savored the feel of her against him.
“Look on the bright side? Who are you and what have you done with Mark Cooper?” Eve giggled and nuzzled her head into his chest.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Hey, I have my moments,” he deadpanned before chuckling.
That chuckling stopped when she reached down and grabbed his dick. “You ready for duty?”
“Yes, sergeant.”
***
Coop stood in the back of the room and clapped like everyone else. The auditorium was large because it had to be. There were just shy of five hundred NCO’s graduating from the academy. They were all near the front in the formal CMUs with friends and family behind them. Visiting personnel were allowed in the back, and as a mere CPL, he was in the nosebleeds.
Since the graduates’ names were called alphabetically, Eve had received her diploma, and photo with the school’s commandant for her “I love me” wall hours ago. If she ever followed that stupid tradition. That was usually just an officer thing.
“Sergeant Amanda Zvolowaski,” the commandant called out what had to be the last name.
Coop pulled up the time in the corner of his vision.
He was only here because it was a big day for Eve. No matter how much of a pain in the ass the whole experience had been with her instructor, it put her one step closer to achieving her career aspirations.
It was moments like this that Coop felt his mind wandering to his own future. If someone told him he would have been considering a life as a soldier two years ago, he would have kicked them in the balls and stolen their BSA ration. Soldiers were suckers who got tricked into fighting and dying for a ball of dirt a thousand light years away that didn’t do shit for a Rat on Earth. Experience now told him that was true, but life was a hell of a lot better as a soldier than a Rat.
He’d been an E5 before being busted down the E4. He’d been in long enough to know this wasn’t uncommon, so it wasn’t career suicide, but it wasn’t a glowing recommendation of his leadership skills either. Recruiting school was just under two months, and then he had a twelve month obligation after training. That meant he was going to spend the next thirteen months in a cushy billet.
He was going to be tempted during that time. Rear echelon soldiers selling decommissioned military-grade hardware to Rats and other interested parties was a great was to make a quick buck and secure profitable retirement. Unfortunately, he’d made promises. Promises he intended to keep. Ideally, Eve would be nearby during all of this, but he had little confidence in the infantry to keep two lovebirds together. Even if one of their last names was Berg.
The people around him started to move. He snapped his mind back to his surroundings and saw the ceremony had wrapped up. People were streaming past him toward the exit. They had stripes on their uniform, so Coop waited his turn. This wasn’t the battlefield where mission necessity took priority over rank. Oddly, that was something Coop was missing despite being back home on Earth.
“Sir…Ma’am…Sergeant Major…”Coop nodded and tried to be cordial to the group walking past him. Some saw the patch on his shoulder and gave him a respectful nod. That made him feel good. Others completely ignored him. That made him want to punch them in the face, especially when the fruit salad on their chests didn’t having anything related to combat.
After ten minutes of waiting he finally noticed Eve heading his way. She wasn’t the only HI or R&S soldier in the group, but there still weren’t many of the enhanced personnel present.
“Hey, congrat…” he began but she cut him off short.
“Shoulders back…chin up high…let me look you over,” she fussed over his formal CMUs, despite having helped him get all his awards and ribbons straightened out this morning. Everything was from prior deployments except his new SRRT badge. “Ok,” she brushed some lint off his shoulder and took a deep breath before looking him directly in the eye. “Look sharp.”
“What?” he started, but she turned away from him and toward a group of people heading their way.
He recognized the commandant of the school in the middle of the formation. He was a middle-aged captain who was probably close to retirement. His three golden stripes outranked everyone around him except a stately woman everyone was orbiting like a star. The five golden stripes of a full admiral nearly made her pants solid gold. The hair, cheekbones, and eyes were a dead giveaway.
“Oh shit,” Coop gulped as the woman stopped in front of him and Eve. He might be taller than the ADM, but he felt tiny as she looked up at him. The rest of the entourage looked at the two grunts in confusion.
“Mother,” the word sounded uncomfortable coming out of Eve’s mouth. “I’d like you to meet Ser…Corporal Mark Cooper, my boyfriend.”
It was the first time Eve had ever labelled their relationship to a group of people not in their direct chain of command who she was required by regulation to inform. Telling her family took their relationship to a whole other level.
“Ma’am,” Coop’s training took over and he snapped off a smart salute. It was a good thing that was his default reaction because his brain was still playing catchup.
Admiral Sonya Berg critiqued Coop like she would a new car she was thinking of purchasing. He had no doubt the intelligence chief knew every unsavory thing about him, so he just stood there at the position of attention.
“Corporal,” was the only thing she said to him before turning her attention to Eve. “I expect you at Admiralty House at 1800.” She cast a sideways glance at Coop. “You may bring him if you wish.” With that said, she kept moving and the gaggle of people followed.
Coop remained at the position of attention until everyone had passed. Or at least he’d thought everyone had.
“That could have been worse.”
Coop looked down to see a man with gold CMDR and red command stripes sitting in a grav-chair with both legs missing below the knee. “Sir?”
“My mother doesn’t think anyone is good enough for her children…ever. At least she didn’t tear you a new asshole in front of the whole new batch of NCOs.”
“It’s always nice to have a single asshole, Sir,” Coop snapped back to attention.
“Relax,” the CMDR waved Coop off. “Congrats little sis.”
“Thanks, Derrick,” Eve leaned down and gave him a hug. “I bet you didn’t think we’d be sitting here like this the last time we talked.”
A half-forgotten memory popped into the forefront of Coop’s brain. He was a shit-for-brains recruit in a chow hall when a CMDR came barging in. “You were at the chow hall when we were in basic,” he blurted lamely. Eve rolled her eyes, while CMDR Derrick Berg chuckled.
“I was on my own two feet back then.” The elder Berg sighed.
“Both at the same time, sir?” Coop felt like he could connect with Eve’s brother on one level. It seemed like they’d both had the unfortunate experience of losing a leg or two.
“Had a bulkhead fall on me when my ship took a hit at Harper’s Junction. Body rejected the first round of vat grown replacements, so I’m stuck in a chair and off my ship’s bridge for at least the next six months.”
Coop winced. He’d heard stories of the cloned, replacement body parts being rejected by a person’s body before, but he’d never experienced it personally. “I’ve lost this one twice now.” Coop patted his newest leg, which was still a bit sore where they’d reattached it. “Don’t worry, sir, you’ll be back on your feet.”
“Thanks for the well wishes, Corporal,” Derrick gave Coop a nod, but the formal use of ‘corporal’ made Coop wonder if he’d said something wrong. “I’ll see you at Admiralty House tonight.”
“Goodbye, sir,” Coop watched as the CMDR rolled away. When he was far enough away he wheeled on Eve, “thanks for just sitting there on that one. I could have used a little backup.”
“You did just fine,” she smiled at him, and his frustration melted away. “I think he likes you.”
“Why? Because I can teach him some life hacks for being a gimp?” He got a hard punch in the shoulder for the comment.
“Take the win, Coop. Now come on. We need to grab a bite to eat before reporting in to the school. Then we need to get you something to wear for tonight.” She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him out of the auditorium.
“I’ve got my uniform,” Coop argued. He didn’t want to spend any of his hard earned, won, or stolen cash on some smartcloth monkey suit he was never going to wear again.
“You don’t wear a uniform to Admiralty House, especially a corporal’s uniform. Everyone there is flag rank or at the invitation of flag rank. It is the premiere dining facility to military officers in the system. Don’t argue with me and you’ll live through it. Fuck it up, and my mother will have you recruiting penguins off an ice ball in the Outer Rim.”
Coop gulped. He knew when to make a tactical withdraw from an argument. “Lead the way, Boss Lady.”