Luke Nukem had been serving in the military for five years, you’d been there for fifteen. You outranked him in every sense of the word. Rank, seniority, demeanor, even strength; believe it or not. You were faster, stronger, and more confident than he’d ever admit. He hated you.

When your name was brought up in conversation, his smile would drop. Every metal you’d be awarded, he thought you didn’t deserve it. The more weight you worked out with, he’d push harder to prove how much better he was.

It wasn’t fair. It was him who deserved to be a badass general fighting off swarmer everyday, not you.

But, as he continually prepared soulless meals fueled by his envy of you, his job title punched him back to reality: Platoon Cook.