<strong>Pvt. Cooper - 3rd Squad</strong><br/><br/>Cooper was stunned for a moment. It was a cliche, but it had all happened so fast. He wasn't sure if any of the dead bodies that now lay around them had died from one of his grenades, but it could have happened. And if it did, then it meant that for the first time he'd just killed somebody. In retrospect he was glad that there had been so many other bullets flying around. It made it easier to think about. Whatever he'd done here, he'd done it along with his squadmates, at the direction of his LT. It wasn't his decision, which was of course how the Corps was supposed to work.<br/><br/>The thought of the flying bullets snapped him out of it. A lot of those bullets had been coming toward his squad, and some of them had hit. His training kicked in. As soon as it was clear that the fight was over, he unslung his medic kit and keyed the sequence that turned the large, flat box into a portable med station. With a pneumatic whine small stabilizing legs protruded from the corners and racks of patches, gels and pills swiveled out for easy access. A luminous green display showed null diagnostic stats; nobody was hooked up to the thing yet. He looked around for wounded, but of course even those who had been hit were playing it tough. They'd taught him that in training, too.<em>These are Marines. They ain't gonna come to you looking for an aspirin. You gotta look around and see if anybody's missing an arm, 'cause they ain't gonna whine about it out loud.</em><br/><br/>"Injury status summary," he dictated into the medical computer. A copy of the records would be uploaded and attached to the incident report. "Lt. Mengsk: Laser burn wound, shoulder. Lance Corporal Mathias: Rifle wound, thigh. Gunny Danko: Shotgun wound, chest." He thought for a moment, then decided not to put his own injury into the record. As he swallowed a stim pill for the pain, he reasoned that it had only been a bruising. Not worth wasting time talking about, and not something he wanted on his permanent record attached to his very first live fire encounter.<br/><br/>"Lieutenant, Gunny, Lance Corporal," he called. "When you have a second, I gotta look at those wounds." His tone was almost apologetic. They all had shit to do, but rules were rules.<br/><br/>[Marcus]<em>“Nice shot, lover boy.”</em><br/><br/>He acknowledged the compliment with what he hoped was a manly and confident nod, but was saved from having to form a response by Mathias' interjection.<em>"Oi, Cooper, head's up! You know how to shoot one of those straight, right?"</em><br/><br/>"Yes, sir!" Cooper replied. He took the proffered weapon. It looked simple enough - same controls and, as he sighted down the rangefinder, just about the same balance. And a much bigger kick, from what he'd seen. He set it down on the concrete floor next to his other weapon and made a note to move over the grenade launcher when he had a chance to.<br/>