<strong>Pvt Cooper - 3rd Squad</strong><br/><br/>Private Ed Cooper didn't want to die out here. But there were things he wanted even less, like coming off like a green recruit in front of his new squad. Boot camp had been harsh, sure, but one look at his squadmates told him they'd been through a lot worse. He didn't know any of them well. He'd only been with this squad a couple of weeks before this mission, barely enough time to get through all of the required hazing. He'd tried to take it with good humor. It wouldn't be a good idea to get pegged as a tight-ass. Reputation was important. Back in school he'd been the tough guy. No surprise, it looked like that slot was already spoken for here. About six times over.<br/><br/>He'd only had time to get to know his squad by stereotypes. None of them seemed overly eager to cut the new guy a break. It made sense, he figured. Get through a couple of combat missions first. No sense getting to know somebody just to watch them get killed. He'd have to prove himself, somehow. At least that's what he figured; he was making most of this up as he went along. There was a whole lot they didn't teach you in boot camp.<br/><br/>Like what to do when you came out of cryosleep. He looked around at the other marines, who all seemed to know where they were going. So he followed them. The cold didn't bother him much; it wasn't much worse than a Nebraska winter. But would it kill them to put up a couple of signs? He went down one dead end corridor and tried for a minute or so to make it seem like he had a good reason for standing there. Not that anybody was watching, probably. Eventually he found his locker and got suited up. No time to eat, which was just as well. He'd heard bad things about combat drops, and having his stomach growl was going to be a whole lot better for his reputation than blowing chunks over the dropship floor.<br/><br/>The Lieutenant was a piece of work. Cooper kept quiet, trying not to draw the man's attention. He was new to the squad too, and would probably be looking for a quick way to establish his reputation. Like kicking the shit out of the greenie. Cooper wasn't going to give him any excuse. From what he'd heard, there were about a hundred things that'd determine if you stayed safe on a mission like this. Training, luck, equipment -- all important. Staying on your commander's good side -- crucial.<br/><br/>The drop had gone surprisingly easy, he thought. Cooper kept quiet, trying not to look either too scared or too excited. He checked over his gear again, then stopped himself. Nobody else was doing that. And his pulse rifle was practically brand new. No reason to obsess over it. The weight of the medical kit was comforting, though. He'd only had basic field medic training, but he'd been pretty good at it. Everybody liked the guy with the med kit, right? Hell, if nothing else he could put a hurt on somebody with it; the thing must have weighed fifteen pounds alone.<br/><br/><br/>Cooper didn't move to take either the cannon or the Gatling turret, figuring someone with more experience could do a better job. There was a seat open by a gun port, though, and he took it and strapped in. It was just coincidence that the position gave him a good view of GS Danko climbing into her own position. Goddammit. Marines weren't supposed to get boners looking at other Marines. He quickly shifted his gaze to study the terrain rolling by outside.<br/><br/>