Benjamin Gold

Location: CWS Abraham Lincoln, New Lancashire, United Commonwealth of Colonies

“Enter.”

Ben did it all by the book. He marched forward and snapped to the position of attention in front of the RADM. “Lieutenant Commander Gold, reporting as ordered, Sir.”

RADM Nelson barely looked up from the PAD he was working on. “At ease, Commander. Take a seat.” He waved at one of the chairs surrounding the conference table.

Of all the times Ben had met the Task Force commander, he couldn’t remember actually being in the smaller man’s office. The RADM preferred to do his work in the small conference room right off the bridge. It made sense. If anything happened he was right there to take command of the situation.

Ben popped a squat in the nearest seat, but didn’t relax. His butt was right on the edge of the nano-laced fabric. The RADM didn’t give him a second glance for two whole minutes as he finished reading whatever was on that PAD.

After the action taken in System 1861, Ben was forced to spend most of the trip back, and the first few days back in New Lancashire, compiling a lengthy report on what occurred. Enlisted soldiers and NCOs might make fun of officers for this aspect of their job, but the truth was that it was integral to anyone who’d been involved in the action.

Without Ben’s report no one got the recognition they deserved. They didn’t get points for promotion. They didn’t get medals or awards. They didn’t even get combat pay, so the more detailed Ben was the better for everyone. He had reviewed the recordings from the marine’s armor as part of the process, and put together the sequence of events for the RADM to make a judgment on the effectiveness of Argo and her attached Infantry in completing their mission.

“Good work, Gold.” The RADM leaned back in his seat and gave Ben a small smile; emphasis on the small. “From what I’ve seen, Argo and her crew performed admirably. You isolated the problem, assessed your options, and took swift action. I’d put this one down in the win column.”

“Thank you, Sir. I…”

“That doesn’t mean it was done flawlessly,” the RADM interrupted before Ben could get going. “You lost too many marines in taking the station. There are some inconvenient gaps in the footage during the recovery process, and the little trick those pirates played allowed a lot of people to get away. This isn’t a cut the head off the snake and the body withers scenario. Sure, you cut off this head by taking the rock and seizing everything, but people got away and they’ll pop up somewhere else to annoy some other skipper or admiral in the future.”

“Understood, Sir.” Ben had learned long ago when arguing with his father that sometimes it was just better to take the hits. Hindsight was twenty-twenty.

“I’ve reviewed your recommendations, and I’ve approved the combat pay. This certainly meets the qualifications, and it will allow the fallen marines’ families to receive the proper benefits. As for the awards, I’m authorizing a general citation of accomplishment for the crew. From the report and footage you all did your jobs to standard. All other awards are denied.”

Of all the stuff that the RADM had said, that hit the hardest. Ben could take the older man being hard on him, his actions hadn’t been perfect, but it really riled him up to see him put down the men under his command. They’d followed his orders to the best of their ability and adapted to an unpredictable situation. They deserved something more than a few extra bucks in their bank account on the first and fifteenth of the month.

“Yes, Sir.” Ben bit the inside of his cheek and balled his fists underneath the table.

The RADM raised an eyebrow, but let the insubordinate tone go. “We need to look at your next assignment.”

“I’ve got training scheduled with Charlie Company of the 2223rd, Sir.” Ben hastily added. He’d made the deal with the Infantry LT to get Coop, and he wasn’t going to renege or else his word would be useless in the future.

“I’m assigning you to the next iteration of the Strike Force, Lieutenant Commander.” The RADM clearly didn’t care what an Infantry battalion had on their training schedule. “It’s about time Argo got to engage in some proper gunboat operations. You will be the forward scout for the operation. Meet up with Captain Jacobson for your deployment orders, but I suspect you’ll be setting sail soon, so if you’re going to do training I’d do it now.”

“Yes, Sir.” Ben was glad he wasn’t getting his reputation totally thrown under the bus.

“Don’t screw this up, Commander,” the RADM offered some parting words as Ben got to his feet, and snapped back to the position of attention. “It won’t be just Argo and a handful of marines who’ll pay if you screw this up. There are nearly ten thousand spacers and marines in that strike force, plus a ship from our newest ally. Don’t pull a Cobalt Station, Gold.”

“Yes, Sir.” Ben stood there rigidly until the RADM broke eye contact in a clear sign of dismissal.

Ben shared the sentiment.

His six-month tour was two-thirds of the way done. He couldn’t wait to get out of this place and move on to his goal of the Diplomatic Corps. He’d much rather be making deals than under RADM Nelson’s hounding gaze twenty-four-seven.

“Everything good, Sir?” Chief Yates was waiting outside the conference room hatch with the RADM’s aide. The aide scurried inside while Ben and his NCOIC headed back down toward Argo.

“He’s giving combat pay and a ship-wide citation, but nothing else.”

“Hardass.” The CPO looked like he’d wanted to spit.

“We’re on the next strike force mission though, so conduct a readiness check at 1500. I want to make sure we’re ready to ship out when I get the order.”

“We still doing the training with LT Wentworth?” The CPO remembered the name of the woman who drove the hard bargain for Coop’s inclusion.

“Get a message down to her and tell her to haul ass up here if she wants to get her qualifications done anytime soon.” Ben shrugged. He wouldn’t have any information until he talked with the strike force’s CAPT.

“Yes, Sir.” The CPO nodded and started drafting an e-mail on his PAD.

Training was an NCO thing, so the CPO and infantry GYSGT would figure out everything and then tell the officers what was going to happen.

“Any word on Lee?” Ben moved onto the next uncomfortable topic. He was just glad the RADM hadn’t added it to the list of things to ream him on.

“The MPs transported her up to the brig here. The master at arms have her under guard until it gets resolved.”

Ben did not want to go into battle without his engineering apprentice, who, if his suspicions were correct, actually did most of the work that kept Argo running.

“I did reach out through the petty officer network,” Yates grinned casually like he hadn’t subverted chains of command and forgone lines of communication. Ben didn’t think much of it. The POs did it all the time. After all, they ran just about everything. “Some little birdie told me that the case should be resolved by the end of the day.”

“That’s good.” Ben was happy for the good news.

He’d read over the case information provided to him by the arresting planetary authorities, and it didn’t look like Spacer Lee was an accessory to murder. It didn’t even look like Coop was a murderer. It read like self-defense, and that was the verdict Ben was hoping for.

Coop had helped him out twice now, and it would be a shame to have such a talented fixer end up in a military prison because some jealous guy tried to shoot him. Ben just had to trust the military justice system would see the facts and rule accordingly, because right now he had to get Argo ready for its first real task-force-level offensive operation.

He was going to be swamped.

***

Mark “Coop” Cooper

Location: New Lancashire, United Commonwealth of Colonies

Coop had been in prison before. More than once in fact during his Rat days, but prisons in the PHA were different.

he thought to himself.

Coop tried to shift position and knocked his sore knee against the metallic shitter in the corner. He cursed, tried to shake it off, and bumped his elbow into the metal bed.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled, losing his temper and lashing out.

Now the bed post had a fist-sized indentation in it, and Coop’s knuckles were sore. He shook out his hand and continued cursing.

The brig of the MP station on base was built for single occupant, regular-sized men. Coop was way above average, so he felt like a person living in a doll house. His feet hung off the bed, he had to maneuver himself into the corner to take a proper shit, and the door leading in and out was way too small for him. The MP who brought him in was a nice enough guy and apologized for the inconvenience. Apparently, they had appropriately-sized cells for HI troopers but they were occupied. It had been a rowdy few days in Town Center.

Coop didn’t consider himself claustrophobic, but this whole experience took him back to Isolation Week in Basic. It was driving him crazy. At least on a warship, even a small one like Argo, there was always some cute spacer to chase that took his attention away from the confinement. Here, all he could do was wank into the toilet, and after Aiko that was just boring.

Coop was about the throw another punch into the crippled bedframe, but the door slid open and a large shadow blocked all the light from entering.

“I knew this was going to happen sooner or later.” SSG Hightower towered outside the cell.

“I didn’t do anything,” Coop automatically went on the defensive. “Dude tried to kill me, Staff Sergeant. What was I supposed to do?”

“I’m not the man you need to convince.” The giant SSG moved aside so two smaller MPs could usher Coop out of the cell and into handcuffs.

Coop had been in handcuffs several times as a rambunctious Rat, but never these. For people with enhancements two set of cuffs were used. The first went around the wrist like every pair since the beginning of time, but they weren’t metal. They were made with some sort of nanite-drenched fabric. It made them as comfortable as wearing CMUs, but at the MP’s command current went through them and hardened the material to improbable strength. They had more in common with the ES function on his LACS armor than the handcuffs he’d worn back in the PHA. The MPs called them flexcuffs.

Even though Coop had tried, and failed, to budge the flexcuffs, the MPs didn’t take any chances. The second pair was metallic, but smaller. They locked around his thumbs and a short, metal chain looped through the flexcuffs. Coop had tested these too, and immediately realized that was a bad idea. If he pulled too hard he was positive he was going to break both of his thumbs, and that would suck donkey dick.

Coop didn’t resist as the MPs put the flexcuffs and thumbcuffs on him. He was innocent after all. There was nothing to worry about, or at least that’s what he kept telling himself. Despite his certainty, he couldn’t shake the feeling like he was being led to his execution.

The MPs walked him away and the SSG followed to where his fate would be decided, which turned out to be the LT’s office. Instead of the LT sitting at the desk there was a stern-faced LCDR watching Coop with sharp eyes as he entered. The LT was off to his left with an unreadable expression, and an MP LT stood to the right. He looked bored.

“I call this military tribunal to order.” The LCDR didn’t have a gavel to smack, so he used his fist. The guy wasn’t Ranger or Recon, so he didn’t have enhancements, and the ensuing echo was appropriately weak. “Lieutenant Commander Thad Benson, Commander, 2223rd Infantry Battalion, presiding along with Lieutenant Jacobi Wentworth, Commander, Charlie Company 2223rd Infantry Battalion, and Lieutenant Han Johnson, Commander, New Lancashire Military Police Company.”

Coop just stood in front of the three officers with the MPs at his side and SSG Hightower at his back.

“How do you plead, Private First Cooper Mark Cooper?” The LCDR looked Coop directly in the eye.

“Um…not guilty, Sir. The dude tried to shoot me in the fucking face. I was just defending myself and Spacer Lee.”

“A plea of not guilty in entered into the record.” The LCDR waved for Coop to shut up and turned to the MP LT. “LT Johnson, present the evidence.”

What the MP LT stated was music to Coop’s ears, which was probably why a JAG officer wasn’t present on Coop’s behalf. Forensically, it was a self-defense no brainer. They had Bradford on tape buying the weapon illegally. They’d tried to capture the smuggler Coop had sold the guns and drugs too, but he’d fled the system, so Coop dodged that bullet too. Witness statements from Coop, Aiko, and the motel clerk corroborated the evidence and matched, which they obviously did because it was the truth. The particle residue on Bradford’s hands sealed the deal when both Coop and Aiko tested negative. The case was so overwhelmingly in Coop’s favor that he wasn’t sure why they were doing a tribunal in the first place.

“Thank you, LT Johnson.” The LCDR still waited until the MP LT had presented all the evidence. “Based on the incontrovertible evidence it is within my delegated authority to declare Private First Class Cooper not guilty in the eyes of this tribunal.” The two LTs added their verdicts of not guilty into the record as well. “For your actions, Private First Class Cooper, you are being docked two weeks’ pay and sentenced to a week of extra duty.”

Coop didn’t see that coming. “Why, Sir. I didn’t do anything wrong?” His protest slipped out before he could stop himself.

LT Wentworth gave him a hard look, but the LCDR waved her off. “Mr. Cooper you still killed a citizen of the Commonwealth.”

“Respectfully, Sir, I’ve killed a lot of people. That’s my job.” Coop couldn’t stop himself.

SSG Hightower jabbed a knife hand into Coop’s kidney. “Shut the fuck up, Cooper, and take the punishment,” he whispered in Coop’s ear.

“It’s your job to defend the Commonwealth against enemies, Private Cooper, and the Commonwealth has invested a lot of time and money so that you can do that well. Do you agree?”

“Yes, Sir.” Coop puffed out his chest with pride.

“Since your training is so excellent, by your own words Private Cooper, why did your assailant have to die? You could have broken limbs and taken the weapon. You could have incapacitated him with the extensive hand-to-hand combat skills you’ve been taught. Hell, you could have chucked a lamp and knocked the fucker out.” The LCDR grew more heated as he went on. “You did not do any of those things, Private Cooper. You killed him. Your pay will be used to ship the deceased’s body back to his home system, and your extra duty will be some quality time for you to reflect on your actions. In addition, I want a report on all the different ways you could have incapacitated instead of killed. Deliver it to Lieutenant Wentworth at the end of your extra duty time. Only once your punishment is completed will I sign off on your promotion to corporal.”

That got a grin out of Coop. He’d totally forgotten about his promotion, and something told him that the LCDR couldn’t take that away from him or he would be making sure he stayed a PFC.

“This tribunal is adjourned.” The LCDR smashed his fist on the desk, turned off his PAD’s recording feature, and walked out without another word.

“Release him.” The MP LT clearly had better things to do because he left right behind the LCDR.

That left only Coop, his LT, and SSG.

“Way to shit the bed, Cooper.” The LT looked pissed. “Staff Sergeant, select the most boring and monotonous details available and assign Cooper to them. You can also consider yourself on CQ duty this entire weekend, and that paper better be a fucking religious experience to read or you’re going to do it again and again until you get it right. I’m not turning some half-assed attempt into the Commander.” She sat down and jabbed her finger into her PAD to open up her work. “In case you’re wondering, all of this is being done on top of your regular duties. If I hear you slacking I’m going to pull that second chevron, Cooper, I swear to God I’ll do it.”

Coop knew everyone wasn’t fucking around. “Yes, Ma’am.” He braced to attention.

“Get out of my sight.”

Coop hopped to it, and had barely made it out the door before the SSG grabbed him by the shoulder and half dragged him to his office.

“Here.” He grabbed a large polyplast sign. “This is the latest general order form the base commander. You will stand out on the main road through base with this to educate the military population. You will do this until relieved. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal, Staff Sergeant.”

“I will be watching, Cooper. If you slack off, or take off, I will make you regret your existence.”

“Consider me motivated, Staff Sergeant.” Coop replied back.

“Get the fuck out of my sight.”

Coop ran out of the office and out to the main street to begin his punishment. He had no idea how humiliating it was going to be.