Cadet - 1. Cadet

“Lads!”

The Sergeant’s arrival commanded the attention of the six men in the room. Heads snapped up from boots, polish, kit bags, and bedsheets to focus on their commanding officer and the boy who stood with him. Corporal Lock couldn’t help but scan the kid up and down, picking out all his weakness, and noticed the lack of insignia on his epaulettes.

“This is your new squad member.” He glanced at the boy. “Cooper.”

“Sarge!” Private Briggs broke the silence, “he’s a fucking Cadet.”

“Button it, Spoon. He’s the best damn Cadet the Academy had ever seen, and I want him on our squad. Make him welcome. Lock! Come with me.”

“Yes Sergeant.” Lock left his boots, one glowing with a glossy shine, the other still waiting for it’s final buff, neatly by his bunk, and bypassed the Cadet as he followed the Sergeant out. “Sir?”

“At ease, Bolt.” Lock relaxed as his commander used his nickname. “What do you think of what happened in there?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think Sarge. It’s your squad, your choice.”

“Ah shut up Bolt. We’ve known each other too long for that. Talk to me.”

Lock smiled at his friend. Wells had been his commanding officer for three years, but they’d come up together, mucked about like all young men did, fought, fallen out, made friends again, and seen each other through more than a few tough scrapes. Now Wells wanted an honest answer, something he couldn’t get from the lads in the bunk room, and Lock ran a hand through his hair, forgetting for a moment he’d shaved it all off on a number three the previous week.

“He’s a kid, the boy’s aren’t going to like it. He’s gonna need watching like a hawk.”

“He’s twenty. Hardly a child.”

“C’mon Wells, he hasn’t even graduated yet. Couldn’t you wait?”

“Sergeant Major Carol wanted a replacement right away. Said it wasn’t fair on you guys not to have a full squad.”

“A Cadet hardly makes a full squad. You know we can’t let him have live weapons.”

“His aptitude scores are off the charts. Nothing less than ninety-eight percent in any of his tests since day-bloody-one. Boy’s a god-damn genius, and I ain’t having someone else nick him the second he gets his stripes. If that kid doesn’t graduate with first class honours I’ll eat my beret for breakfast.”

“An’ will you be having bacon with that Sarge?” Lock quipped.

“Too fucking right. You’re going to be in charge of him Bolt, treat him good, you hear?”

“Yes Sarge.”

His officer began walking away, and Lock called after him.

“Wells?”

“Yes Corporal?”

“Permission to say ‘cock’ sir?”

Sergeant Wells smirked.

“As often as you like Soldier.”

The bunk room was chaos when Lock re-entered. Spoon was on the floor, bleeding from the nose, the new Cadet was being pushed back against the wall by Delaware and Perry, and no one looked happy.

“Lads!” Lock felt training and rank whip through his spine and into his frontal cortex. “Fall in!”

With the smallest of hesitations the squad filed up, neat as anything. A blood drop falling to the floor between Spoon’s socked feet was particularly loud. Lock went to stand in front of their new Cadet, and felt slightly pissed off to find the boy was only an inch shorter than him.

“Explain,” he demanded.

“He called me a ‘fucking pansy’,” the Cadet growled. “Sir,” he added belatedly.

“You don’t ‘sir’ me boy, I’m a Corporal.” Lock gestured to the two stripes on his sleeve, he wore them on everything, and they even came printed on the fabric of his t-shirts. “Didn’t they teach you anything at the Academy?”

“Sorry s-” Cooper scowled. “Sorry.”

“Don’t deck another member of your own squad. One day you might need Spoon to save your life.”

“He is not one of us.” Spoon wiped his freely bleeding nose with his hand, then used the t-shirt he was still wearing to staunch the blood. “He’s a fucking child, Bolt.”

“Fuck you!” Cooper broke the line to snarl at Private Briggs. Lock pushed him back, and caught the boy’s fist in his hand while Forks kept a firm hand on Briggs’s shoulder.

“Don’t do it, bro.”

“Enough!” Lock could feel a headache spreading across his left temple. “Spoon, go take a fucking shower and get a clean shirt on. Forks, clean the floor. You,” he turned to Cooper, “get unpacked and make your bed.”

“But they’re all made.”

Lock smirked. He knew it was a shitty thing to do. Spoon had a mouth on him, and he could be an annoying son of a bitch, but Cooper shouldn’t have hit him, even though it was usually tempting, and the kid obviously had aim. He grabbed the sheets and blankets from the bed next to his own, the ‘spare’ bed as it had been for eight weeks now, tore them off and dumped them on the floor.

“Make your damn bed, Kid.”

Delaware bit back a laugh, and the squad went back to their tasks. Lock picked up his other shoe, and began to buff it in tiny circles. He watched the Kid in his outer vision. Cooper was skinny, but he was a third year Cadet, so he had muscle tone to go with it. He was too tanned, like he spent the better part of his day’s lying around on a beach, and his chocolate brown hair was too long.

“So, since you bypassed introductions by decking one of your new squad.” Lock stopped whatever Cooper had been about to say with his glare. “You should know who everyone is. That’s Private Smith over there; Delaware for short.”

“He’s a native Terran?”

“No, there’s just too many fucking guys called ‘Smith’.” Lock grinned. “Private Second Class Kelly, only we call him Perry because of the amount of the stuff he can pack away. Private Briggs and Private Second Class Briggs, or Forks and Spoon – he’d be the one you sent to the ground – no relation, but they act like a pair of sibling idiots half the time. Private First Class Moss, or Stones, is the only person you haven’t actively pissed off yet today, and only because he’s too busy making every single pencil he owns sharp enough to stab someone with.” Lock threw a spare blacking brush at his squad mate and Stones smacked it away without looking up. “Don’t be fooled, he’s a smart bastard, can fix an all-terrain rover in a hurricane and run rings around most of the communications specialists. And I’m Lock.”

“And what do they call you?”

“Bolt.” Forks replied before the Corporal could answer him. He had finished the floor, peeled out of his shirt and glared quickly at Cooper before opening his locker to grab a toothbrush and razor.

“Why?”

“Ha! Lock and Bolt the door and pray he doesn’t come to kill you in your sleep. Sneaky fucker.” Forks grinned good naturedly. “Time to hit the deck in thirty.”

Cadet Cooper finished up making his bed, and began to stow his gear in the slim locker set into the wall next to it. Every movement he made was quick and efficient, and Lock could see in him the potential of an excellent solider. He only became aware of how intently he was watching the boy when Spoon came back.

“He is not sleeping next to me. I ain’t paid to baby-sit.”

“It’s the only free bed,” Lock shot back. “Deal with it.”

“That’s Marks’s bed.”

“Marks ain’t here!”

“Too damn fucking right!” Spoon scowled. “Del, switch with me.”

“Aww, c’mon man….” Delaware laid his head back on his shoulders. “You know I like being near the door.”

“Jus’ so you can sneak out to have a fag!” Perry piped up.

“Just switch will you, and stop being a whiny bitch.” Spoon gave the Cadet a last glare, then grabbed his stuff, turned and began to unpack on the other side of the bunk room. Cooper watched him cautiously.

“Who was Marks?”

“Never you mind,” Lock told him. “Get yourself washed up and get your head down Kid.” The Corporal figured he’d been just about harsh enough with the boy for one day. “You ever slept in a barracks before?”

“Not unless you count Cadet camp.”

“I don’t.”

“Then no.” Cooper looked at him levelly, like he was expecting to be ridiculed.

“It’s pretty simple: keep your stuff out of the way, don’t sleep in the all-together, and don’t masturbate in bed.”

“What?!”

“There ain’t no privacy in the army Kid, you and your right hand will have to learn to resist each other.”

“I’m a lefty,” the Kid sounded slightly stunned.

“Indeed.” Lock raised an eyebrow at him. “And try not to snore.”