Mark “Coop” Cooper

Location: Assembly Area Kansas, Earth, United Commonwealth of Colonies

“What the shit was that,” Coop automatically dropped to one knee to reduce his profile.

Everyone waiting in the obscenely long chow line looked up at the flash in the sky. Coop’s first guess was orbital combat, but his brief scan didn’t show anything in low orbit returning fire. It was just the one, bright flash.

“Something tells me we’re going to be missing hot chow for a while.” An older NCO grimaced and exited the chow line.

That was blasphemy to Coop. no one got out of a chow line…no one…without good reason. As if the universe was giving him the giant finger, his IOR pinged softly.

{Movement orders for Operation Shield Wall,} was the title. Coop sighed as PADs all around him beeped, chipped, and chimed as the rest of the orders started to filter down to the enlisted personnel.

“Fuck me,” Coop whispered as waypoints and time hacks started to appear in his vision. Whatever was happening, the LT wanted him synching up with his armor in the next thirty minutes.

It would take fifteen minutes to do that, and five minutes to get to the makeshift armory the MOUNTs were stashed in. By Coop’s count, that gave him ten minutes to eat. The line was rapidly clearing and soldiers hurried off to their assemble areas. Whatever was going to happen looked like it was kicking off soon. The old soldier had been right. This was the last chance for hot chow until god knew when. Other soldiers at least got MREs. Coop and the other armored cavalry WOs got tubes stuck down their throats for water and nutrient sludge.

It was the sign of a true soldier that Coop was willing to take a chance for hot chow over the possibility of getting chewed out by the LT, but as the line quickly evaporated, he was confident he could have his cake and eat it too...literally; there was chocolate cake. Because he was a good boyfriend and baby daddy, he made sure to grab one for Eve.

His belly stuffed, and a smudge of chocolate across this breast, he headed back for the armory. he chuckled to himself as he ran his finger on the chocolate goodness that was the icing on Eve’s cake.

He was a good boyfriend, not a saint. He savored the sugar on his tongue as he entered the controlled chaos of the armory.

“Coop, stop sucking that finger like it’s your girlfriend’s titty and get over here,” Camila shouted for everyone in the entire company to hear.

The dragoons of third squadron were all huddled up around the LT, who had a portable holo-tank with a map of the continent open in front of her. She looked like she was mid-brief. Coop pulled up the time hack from his orders and saw they were blinking red and showing he was five minutes late. He’d minimized them when he got his chow, and apparently someone had moved the time up.

As Coop approached, the LT gave him a hard look, but didn’t say anything else. The look was enough. It said quite clearly,

“The brass is still figuring out the concept of operations,” she continued without missing a beat. “What we do know, and what hasn’t changed, is that our battalion is a strategic resource. We’re the toughest thing we’ve got on planet, so wherever the fighting is the hottest, that is where we’ll be.”

“What’s the threat?” Coop knew he should keep his mouth shut, he’d missed that part of the OPORDR by being late, but he couldn’t not know.

“Unsure,” the LT looked down at the holo-tank’s controls, and the other dragoons looked away. They’d clearly been through this song and dance before.

“Unknown enemy, unknown capabilities, roger that,” Coop decided not to be an ass about it. The LT was operating with only as much as information as was given to her.

The LT looked relieved and continued. “Third squadron will be deploying individually. Camilla, you and Coop will be stationed in this vicinity,” she highlighted two locations. One in Carolina Sector, and the other a hundred-plus kiometers to the south. “Anything coming down from orbit toward the east coast will pass through several squadron’s AOs. We’ll be hard linked in with local defense forces anti-air sensors…”

“Hard linked?” Based on the looks on the other dragoon’s faces, Coop wasn’t the only one who didn’t get it.

“Everything is shot to shit. All software not hardwired is unreliable at best and deadly at worst.” There was something more to that statement, but Coop didn’t press it. “Ok, so we’ll be hardwired to the net, but verify anything with your own sensors. Line of sight seems to be the most reliable. We’ll provide anti-air as needed and then movement to contact with the enemy when they land. Our purpose is to disrupt any chance of the enemy to establish a beachhead. Local forces will react as needed, but be prepared to move. Spyders are being reconfigured to carry one of us and spare parts. No telling how long this will last.” She continued. The LT was going to be stationed nearly in New York Sector.

Coop pulled up the OPORDR and schematic attachments. He had to give it to the brass, they had thought it out. The eastern seaboard was some of the most heavily populated territory on the planet, and the overlapping and interlocked defenses were going to be a tough nut for the enemy to crack. Coop and Camila were a just a cog, a bigger cog, but a cog nonetheless in the plan. He continued to scan the lengthy document until he saw where Eve was going to be. Miraculously, she was going to be stationed at the naval hospital.

he smiled.

“Ok everyone, let’s suit up.” The LT finished and the four dragoons hustled to their MOUNTs.

Coop wasn’t looking forward to getting cramped into a ball again, but he was ready for this hurry up and wait shit to be over. If they were going to fight then he wanted them to get it over with.

He just hoped his kid wasn’t caught in the middle if things went to shit.

***

Benjamin Gold

Location: Orbit, Earth, United Commonwealth of Colonies

A high-pitched shrill went through the ship, “All hands, this is your captain.” The voice on the 1MC was somber. Everything that had happened recently was tinged with sadness.

It was one of those moments human beings would look back on as turning points in history: Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941; September 11, 2001; the first strike of the Last Terran War, November 7, 2088; first landing on Alpha Centauri May 1, 2153. And now, added to that list of famous and infamous points in history, the destruction of Mars.

“What we have all witnessed here today is an incalculable tragedy. Not even the most notorious Blockie Admiral would stoop so low as to drop a moon on a planet.”

“The Sol system has seen nothing like this for over sixty-five million years, but we are no dinosaurs.” Resolve started to seep back into the man’s voice. “We do not know who we face, or what their full capabilities are, but we will not rest until Mars is avenged. We will not tire until this enemy has been wiped from our skies, and vaporized down to the atom. Earth is our home and we will defend it till our dying breath. That is our job, our sole purpose. We are First Fleet, the rock of earth, and we will not let her fall.”

Ben wasn’t one for sappy speeches, but after what he’d just seen, he felt his chest swell with pride. It didn’t matter that the fleet had basically given him the shaft. It didn’t matter than he was on his way out sooner rather than later. What mattered was that something was attacking his home, the home of humanity. What mattered was he was in a position to do something about it.

“We have a change of mission,” the captain continued, a hint of bitterness tinging his words. “Admiral Duvall was too late to prevent Mars, and the joint fleet is turning and burning its way back toward Earth. The enemy has started to depart Mars orbit and oriented itself towards Earth. Estimated time of arrival is eleven hours. The enemy’s propulsion capabilities are superior to ours. It is too early to tell whether they will overtake the joint fleet as it attempts to return.”

Ben took a deep breath. It was a commander’s worst nightmare to be caught out of position and at the mercy of physics. Ben couldn’t even imagine what Duvall was feeling right now.

“If the admiral is able to return, he will rally at Luna. The rest of the Blockie’s Motherland Fleet is burning for the moon, as well as a portion of the Euro’s Home Fleet. Along with the defensive rings, the combined fleets hope to hold the enemy.”

Ben quickly pulled up a system map, and for once, the universe seemed to smile on them. If the enemy held to their estimated time table, Luna would be directly in the path of the oncoming fleet. It was a brilliant stroke of luck. The firepower on the defensive rings was more than the fleets combined.

“A task force from the Euro’s fleet and our own remaining ships have been ordered to assist with evacuations.”

Ben felt the collective groan of the ship as anger gripped the entire crew. The greatest battle in human history was about to unfold, and they’d be baby-sitting. Ben knew the military’s job was to protect the civilians, to put themselves between the innocent and the enemy, but despite that, their mission felt like a cop out.

The memory of Jacobi’s face getting a hot dog from New York’s mid-city flittered through his mind, and a mild panic filled him. Suddenly, getting civilians off the planet seemed like the most important job in the world.

“All but one of the marine companies and all of the Spyders are ordered to scramble and clear the flight deck. Company commanders will receive orders from earth command when you touch down. The remaining company will work with crew to provide crowd control. The rest of the crew, prepare to take on civilians. We will load up to what our life support can sustain and escort a fleet of civilian ships out of the local gravity well. Once we achieve that they will jump to wherever they want, and carry word of the attack on Earth to the corners of the Commonwealth. We will make a least-time portal to Alpha Centauri, drop the civilians and return to continue the fight. This might not be what we want, but it is our mission. Get to it. Captain, out.”

Ben, and everyone else aboard Jack Frost did just that. They were about to have a lot of company.

***

ADM Sonya Berg

Location: On Earth approach, United Commonwealth of Colonies

Admiral Berg felt completely and totally helpless. She’d watched the destruction of Second Fleet with silent terror. She had data to relay to the defenders of earth, but she didn’t know what help it would be. Not now. Not after all that they’d already witnessed.

She thought of her family. Derrick was still in rehab on earth. Eve was on earth with her unit. Her unborn granddaughter was on earth,

“TACCOM and STRATNET are offline here too, ma’am,” her staff officer at the comms station announced. “We’ll be in tight-beam range in twelve minutes. I’m putting together a burst package for transmission to the rest of First Fleet, although most of the fleet looks long gone.”

“After what happened to Mars, they’ll be forming a defensive front around Luna. They can’t allow what happened there to happen to earth.” Sonya informed, and the rest of the crew nodded understanding. “Send it to the first capital ship we get on our scope, they’ll daisy chain it to everyone who’s left.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sonya continued to watch the plot, and the increasing amount of surface-to-space traffic that was showing up on their scanners as they got closer.

“Is that…”

“An evacuation,” Sonya confirmed.

Everyone with a space worthy craft looked like they were getting the hell out of dodge. As a portion of Earth’s population, that was a fraction of a fraction. Tens of billions of people lived on humanity’s homeworld and in the orbital habitats. A chunk of those people lived off government subsidies in PHAs or other environments. So this evacuation boiled down to nothing more than the rich getting out of town while the poor stayed to die, and the military died for them.

she sighed, and knew there was nothing she could do about it.

“Comms package away,” the officer announced a few minutes later. “What now?”

“Get us to the nearest ship with a flag bridge,” Sonya ordered.

She wasn’t going to be able to do much, but at least from there she could access her network. When shit hit the fan, she could at least direct people to where it was the deepest.