Mark “Coop” Cooper

Location: Savannah City, New Savannah, United Commonwealth of Colonies

SPECIAL REPORT flashed across the bottom of the holo in red. “Coming to you live from Abercorn Square with our reporter on the scene, Patrick Cumberland.” The scene shifted to a good-looking man in a casual suit standing in front of a still-smoking building.

Everyone sitting in the room recognized it. It was one of the voting centers that Charlie Company 2223rd Infantry Battalion was assigned to protect. The scene of the damage, and first responders on the scene, led to a lot of sour looks.

“Today was an important day, a day that is crucial to our democratic process.” The reporter began as he pointed at the building behind him. “That day was brought to a screeching halt as six bombers from the infamous New Savannah Liberation Movement caused death and destruction like what is seen behind me.”

Flame retardant foam was being sprayed through a hole in the ceiling by a man on a hovering platform. The thick substance was suffocating the fire quickly and efficiently, but it couldn’t stop the damage that had already been done.

“Reports are still coming in, but unconfirmed eye-witness accounts say that the death toll from this cowardly attack will likely rise. As of right now, there are three confirmed dead, and over twenty seriously injured that were transported to local hospitals. Nearly three times as many have been treated for minor wounds by military and civilian medical personnel and released.” The reporter lowered his head in what looked like a moment of silence. “The planetary government had condemned these attacks as the murderous will of the few against the wishes of the vast majority of New Savannah citizens. The Governor has promised increased security at polling places so voters can feel safe, and the Police Commissioner has a scheduled briefing in thirty minutes to address claims that some of his officers were involved with the terrorist activities.

“I can answer that question for you right now…fuck yes they were,” Coop called out to the room and got some grim chuckles in return.

“Lock it up, Cooper.” SSG Hightower called from the front of the room without much enthusiasm.

Coop just smiled like only a man who’d just escaped death could, and leaned back in his seat. He grimaced as the motion pulled at his injuries. The bomb that had blown a hole in the voting rec center’s roof, and killed a few more than three people by Coop’s count, hadn’t been a big one. It wasn’t an artillery barrage by the Blockies or Windsors. It was some guy, probably an engineer with limited materials, who’d made a homemade bomb in his garage. Ideally, the cops with sniffers that were supposed to wand random individuals going into the voting centers would have caught it, but they were in on the terrorism.

Coop didn’t feel bad for killing them, they’d obviously been up to no good.

Coop had been far enough away from the initial explosion that he hadn’t been in serious danger. He’d still been hit by the shockwave and falling debris from the roof, but that just led to some bumps and bruises. He’d been knocked out for a few seconds, but when he came to he jumped into action to help the trapped civilians. If not for his enhanced muscles, they would have been trapped under building material and asphyxiated due to the smoke, but he’d been able to lift off the smaller-to-medium sized chunks and pull people to safety. He’d done that until the QRF and civilian first responders were able to get inside. Then his adrenaline rush ran out and he started to feel like he’d gone a few rounds with SSG Hightower. Coop would be good as new in the next few days, and he hoped he be put on limited duty until then.

“Cooper is correct.” LT Wentworth didn’t rebuke Coop like the SSG did. “The police force has been compromised. It will take time to vet the thousands of officers on duty in Savannah City alone, and the Governor has made it abundantly clear to Rear Admiral Stillwater that these elections are to continue on schedule.”

Coop had a hunch that was the case after the reporter’s info dump on the planetary governor’s wishes. RADM Stillwater, the lead Commonwealth officer in the system, had his head so far up the Governor’s ass that he was titty-fucking the guy’s balls. Since the RADM was a fat ass, chair-borne ranger Coop expected he would go along with anything the Governor wanted.

Coop still hadn’t figured that part out.

The LT had continued on despite Coop’s thoughts on their fearless leader. “To make up for the lack of officers, the battalions on planet are being ordered to deploy to cover additional voting centers. In some cases, that means that the fire teams that were assigned to locations are going to be dispersed in buddy teams to cover more centers.”

“Because when we get hit hard like we did it is always a smart idea to disperse our forces and thin the line even more,” Coop grumbled under his breath.

“What was that, Cooper? Speak up.” The SSG had caught some of what he was saying.

“I was wondering, Ma’am, if we’re pulling anyone off the QRF to beef up our numbers?” Coop’s mind worked quick to come up with a reasonable question.

“No. The QRF will remain at full strength so they can respond accordingly.” To the LT’s credit, she didn’t look too happy about the allocation of forces, but she had her orders. “Any further questions can be directed at SSG Hightower. Dismissed.” Everyone got to their feet and executed a lazy salute before starting to file out of the room.

The emergency briefing was for all of the team leads in the field. Coop had left Nickelbaucher, Stern, and Goldsmith at the scene to secure the voting machines, but Mike got to tag along because we was also a CPL, and Coop needed a battle buddy to help his aching ass to sick call before the meeting. Coop hadn’t thought the SSG would give Mike the ok to join, but he didn’t think twice about it.

“Cooper, Enders, on me.” The LT called as the other troops began to file out of the room and back onto the complex nestled in an older section of Savannah City. Now, Coop thought something might be up.

The LT didn’t wait to see if they were following. She headed out a separate door and into a well-maintained hallway. The PVTs cleaning the building respectfully moved aside with a chorus of, “Good morning, Ma’am”, and respectful nods to Coop, Mike, and the SSG. The LT made a ninety degree turn when they exited the comfort of the building’s air conditioning and headed toward the center of the complex.

The contracting companies that did R&D research on the planet did it up right. They were all gathered together on a massive complex in the older part of the city. Coop suspected it was an easier commute for the executives from their mini-plantations in the suburbs, but he wasn’t completely sure. His only time outside the complex had been into the city to sample the nightlife, and to his duties at the voting center.

Even though they were all gathered together on the massive complex, there were clear divisions. Areas were sectioned off with fencing and manned with security personnel wearing the insignia of the company they worked for. The big G of Gold Technologies and, and B superimposed on a tidal wave for Blacktide Armaments were the two most prominent companies. They were at the center of the complex with the smaller contractors clustered around them. The military’s section was mercifully close to the center as well, because by the time they covered the few hundred meters to the central administrative office of the complex, Coop had beads of sweat rolling down his back toward his ass crack.

Coop sighed when they pushed through the front door of a building that looked surprisingly a lot like a Civil Administration Building back in a PHA.

The building was a neutral zone for all the companies to come together and interact, as well as the RADM’s office and the planetary government’s oversight group. Coop thought the latter was a pretty cushy job. These corporations paid for the election campaigns of the people on the planetary government, so they owned them in everything but name.

“Lieutenant Wentworth,” the LT announced herself to a pretty receptionist in a tight smartcloth skirt as she scanned her GIC.

“Corporal Cooper, Mark Cooper, but you can call me Coop.” Coop smiled as he jostled to the front of their little group.

The receptionist gave him a tight, rehearsed smile. “This way.” She led the group down a hallway, through multiple security checkpoints, and finally to a large lift built into the very center of the building. She didn’t say anything as they boarded, and by the time Coop turned around, she was already walking away. He didn’t mind appreciating the view until the lift clanged closed.

“Cooper, Enders,” the SSG barked to get their attention. “Eyes on me.” Coop turned to follow the order and caught a tablet that was tossed at him.

“Gentlemen, these are nondisclosure agreements,” the LT explained. “The gist is that you will not speak to anyone about what you see or do down here. If you do, you will be charged with treason and death by hanging. For traitors with your physical enhancements they like to find lower gravity worlds to hang you on. Your neck won’t break from the fall so it’ll take hours for you to choke to death. It’s not a pleasant way to go, so keep your mouths shut.”

Coop squinted at the electronic document. It was in tiny, legalese script. He didn’t understand half of it, and didn’t care about the part he did understand. The Infantry already owned his ass, if it wanted its pound of flesh all it had to do was ask. Coop pressed his GIC to the document and signed on the proverbial dotted line.

“Thank you, gentlemen, now raise your right hands and repeat after me.” Coop cocked an eyebrow, but followed the LT’s instructions. “I, state your name, do solemnly attest that I will, as in duty bound, honestly defend the Charter of the United Commonwealth of Colonies against all enemies, internal and external throughout the galaxy; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will observe and obey all orders of the Prime Minister of the Commonwealth and the orders of the admirals and officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice.”

“Wait…what?” Coop recognized the oath. He’d first taken it at Basic and then again at each of his promotions. If his experiences were correct only one thing could be happening.

“Just repeat the oath, Cooper.” The SSG looked genuinely pissed at what was happening, which confirmed Coop’s suspicions.

Coop repeated the oath section by section, and lowered his hand at the end.

“Congratulations, sergeants.” The LT shook both of their hands as their CMUs updated to show the three chevrons of a SGT.

Coop opened his mouth to ask a question, but a glare from the SSG told him to shut the fuck up, so he did. A second later the lift’s thick doors opened up and they entered a cavernous room well below the surface of the planet. Coop recognized a few familiar things right off the bat.

First was the 125 meter bulk of CWS Argo sitting in a docking berth with engineers swarming around her. The second was the large outline of a man, with his back turned toward them, with a golden stripe down his CMUs. He was talking with an engineer and pointing at different sections of the gunboat. Third, was a tight, familiar ass, staring back at him from another set of CMUs. He didn’t even need to look up to see the luscious black hair and edges of tattoos that were visible just below the collar of her uniform. Coop had seen Aiko Lee’s tattoos up close and personal, and he’d never forget them. Last, and certainly least impressive, was a pot-bellied man with four golden stripes on his CMUs. RADM Stillwater looked like a pig, and if you dyed his skin pink and gave him a little curly tail Coop would kill him and cook up some bacon for the rest of the complex. The RADM was standing on the other side of the engineer from Ben Gold, and nodded his double chin at whatever the LCDR was saying.

“Oh, they’re here.” The RADM looked back and jumped a little in surprise. “Come over, hurry up.” He waved from them to come closer.

Ben and Aiko turned around as well, and Coop couldn’t help but meet his old lover’s eyes. They still held that subtle fire in them, and if Coop played this right it could be one hell of an enjoyable assignment.

“That’s everyone.” The RADM clapped his hands together. “First, I want to congratulate everyone who has been recently promoted to work on this assignment. Emergency Order Sierra 58915.215 stated that no one below the rank of E5 is permitted to be part of this team, but since our options are limited, we’ve elected to promote everyone to the required grade.”

That answered half of Coop’s question about why the hell he was an NCO now. He looked over at Aiko and saw she was now a Petty Officer Third Class. She’d jumped up two grades from a Spacer. Coop didn’t even know they could do that, and then he really thought about it, and knew the top brass could do whatever the hell they wanted.

“Several members of your team are still inbound from other parts of the Commonwealth and will be here shortly, but until then we can get started on some of the official preparation, so let me introduce you to your trainer.” The RADM waved behind him.

From the opposite side of Argo floated a familiar shape on an anti-grav platform. “Greetings, my name is Carol.” The alien introduced herself with a rustle of her back cilia and a twitch of her internal worm thingies.

Coop kept his thoughts to himself, but he felt his stomach drop into his feet. The last time he’d seen the ETs, the planet he’d been on had been invaded and he got bitch slapped by a five-meter mech.

Nothing good could possibly come from Carol’s presence on New Savannah.