Through nothing short of a miracle, Coop boarded his small ship and punched in the coordinates to Luna, and passed out. The sheer strength it took to pry himself from the stimnet into the shower and out to his launchpad was more than he’d ever dealt with before. Knowing he was heading into a tense situation, he jacked back into the stimnet, allowing himself to drift into a controlled slumber with pre-programmed dreams. Images and sounds filled his mind, allowing him to relax and refocus, a saturated dreamlike state devoid of his real world failings and drama.

Unmoored, Coop drifted through space, on what he knew would be a brief journey, but one he refused to face sober. Knowing Sam’s disappointment was going to be his greeting, and she was the only ally he’d have on Luna didn’t help. Old Coop would’ve stayed on the couch, though, which meant this was a win no matter what. At least, he hoped.

“You look like shit,” a voice stirred through the soup that was his mind.

Coop rolled to the side, navigating through the dream to find the source, to no avail. It echoed around, vague and rolling, although recognizable. That voice was one he’d heard before, the same disdain and disgust he knew all-too-well. Blinking, trying to find his way out of the tunnel and toward the voice, what came next was blinding light and another familiar sense of the nodes being torn from his head.

“I thought you were over this shit?” Regis said.

“U-uncle?” Coop glared up at the shadowy figure through the bright lights. “W-what are you doing here?”

“You’re on Luna, asshole,” he said. “At my facility. What did you expect?”

“Fuck,” he mumbled.

“Fuck is right. That Sam of yours has been here for days now, didn’t think you’d show. I have half a mind to not let you fight in this condition. You look like shit.”

“What do you care?” Coop stretched out, doing his best not to make eye contact with his uncle.

“Yeah, you sound raring to go here, kid. I’m calling it.”

“Fuck outta here,” Coop said. “You’re not in charge of me. In fact, you came here and decided I was some trash to be disposed of.”

“You’re burned out, kid. It was a tough loss, but you gotta do something else with yourself.”

“You stopped seeing dollar signs and gave up on me. Admit it,” he said.

“Believe what you want. I’m doing what I need to do.”

“So am I, so you aren’t calling shit, unless your new boy can’t deal with the pressure of fighting a championship-caliber fighter.”

“Oh, did you win a championship when I wasn’t looking?” Regis chided.

Trying to argue further would go nowhere, as decades of their relationship informed him of. Instead, Coop picked himself up, grabbed his bag and zipped the ship shut, walking by his uncle and leaving him without another word. Sam had sent the room details to him, although he hadn’t responded yet. After a certain point, it was too long to respond, where it was awkward and demanding of an explanation. That explanation was perhaps best given in person, not via a message from light-years away.

One thing was for certain: when Coop got into the ring with his uncle’s latest champion, or whatever he was, Coop was going to bash his brains in and make him regret stepping up in competition. There wasn’t much Coop excelled at, but busting rookies from Luna was one of them. If this was his ticket back to the big time, so be it. He’d play their game and show them just how good he really was.