Sol Strike (Battlegroup Z Book 3) by Daniel Gibbs (red novels .txt) 📗

bacon on the ship, skipper,” Wright replied, staring at her with one eyebrow raised.

“Perhaps not, but pork is haram.”

“Ha-what?”

“It’s an Arabic word… forbidden.”

“Oh, I see. Like Lieutenant Mitzner keeps kosher?” Wright grinned and took a bite out of his sandwich. “I gotta tell you, times like these, I’m happy to be a Christian. No food rules here.” He winked. “And that’s especially good for me, because I grew up on my grandmother’s barbeque.” Wright made a sucking sound on his fingers. “I can still taste her St. Louis–style ribs. Nothing else like it. Supposedly the recipe’s been passed down since the Exodus from Earth.”

Tehrani chuckled politely. She rarely discussed matters of faith, especially with her crew. It always seemed an off-limits subject. “I decided since I was answering the Adhan as many times a day as I could, I needed to make some changes in my life.” I wonder if I sound silly.

“I get it, skipper.” Wright took another bite of the sandwich and ate it with gusto. “My priorities have been completely reordered. I used to only focus on pinning on lieutenant colonel stripes.” He shrugged. “That’s so far down the list now. I couldn’t tell you the last time I thought about taking the written test.”

“So you don’t think I’ve gone nuts?”

“I’d think you were nuts if you hadn’t changed something in your life. We all have—even if it’s as simple as making sure we don’t go to bed angry with a friend or recording a final message for our families before battle.”

They both chewed their food.

Tehrani took a sip of water. “Have you seen the latest update from the CAG?”

“I have. Not going as well as we’d all hoped. But there’s another round of testing this afternoon, based on the lessons learned.”

“Recon fighters aren’t designed to dogfight. It’s that simple. Yet I can’t escape the need to make this work.”

“War sucks.” Wright took another bite. “What’s really on your mind?”

Tehrani furrowed her brow. She felt the weight of knowing that with imperfect tools for the job, many of her pilots wouldn’t come back. “Do we ever have the right to say no?” Uttering those words was a line she never suspected she’d cross. Shock raced through her heart. “If the cost is too great?”

“Who decides that?” Before she could respond, he continued, “I have the luxury of quietly questioning what you’re planning, ma’am. That’s the job of the XO. Do you want my advice?”

“I would welcome it.”

Wright smiled. “Maybe we get to the Orion arm and find Earth is a fortress where our three squadrons would make no impact. At that point, I’d look for other targets of opportunity and, if none could be found in a reasonable period of time, head for home. Banu, you’re a good commander. I respect you, and I admire how you toe the line between bringing everyone home and doing what’s needed to win. I also don’t envy the position you’re in right now. But set everything else aside. The Terran Coalition needs a big, splashy win. Blowing up some stuff in League space and sending a message that we can hurt them… Yeah, it’s needed.”

His words resonated with Tehrani, deep within her soul. The mission before them needed to be won, yet it did nothing to make the cost easier to bear. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, skipper.” Wright munched on his potato crisps. “I realize I’ve been the voice of caution more than a few times the past six months. Remember, that’s my job. Yours is to take risks. That’s why full birds get the big bucks.”

Tehrani laughed, nearly snorting out her tea. “Please. None of us do this for the credits.”

“No.” Wright chuckled. “I did it because I love the Terran Coalition. When I was a young man, our founders’ words were something of a mystery to me. I couldn’t fathom the idea of not having freedom. Having to flee across thousands of light-years to retain the right to worship and speak our minds. It didn’t compute.”

“And now?”

“I’ve seen enough of the galaxy to realize we’ve got something special here. That observation furthers my resolve to fight for it, because our way of life is worth fighting for.”

“It’s nice to hear that.” Tehrani felt buoyed by his words. They matched what she believed, but before a few months ago, she would never have considered the possibility that the Terran Coalition could fall. And that’s the only reason I can ask young men and women to die for it.

“Okay, enough of that.” Wright grinned. “On a positive note, I’ve been working the goat locker.” The term “goat locker” was an old expression for the chief’s mess and hangouts. “They’ll be bringing extra food, entertainment materials, and craft supplies aboard. In the hopes we won’t go collectively stir crazy on the way there and back. I asked for additional religious meals too.”

“Good idea. Don’t mix them in with your barbecue.”

“Touché, skipper.” Wright laughed.

Tehrani loved hearing his laugh. It reminded her of Ibrahim’s and brightened an otherwise dreary day.

Her handcomm beeped. She glanced at it. “I need to go. Ten minutes to midday prayers.”

“Say one for me too.”

She stood and picked up her tray. “I’ll say one for all of us.”

“We need it.” Wright kept munching. “See you on the bridge, ma’am.”

It took MacIntosh, the crew chiefs, and engineering teams two days to hammer out the various issues they encountered from removing the two shield generators from the Ghosts. As explained to Justin, since the overlapping coverage arcs were part of the base design, computer systems had to be recalibrated and control software rewritten. Most of it went over his head. In the end, Justin only cared that the fighter performed as it was supposed to. And gets my pilots and me home.

The launch from the Greengold was uneventful, though compared to the previous time, the Ghost handled like a sports car instead of a whale. Feldstein, Mateus, and Adeoye were close behind him while Whatley and MacIntosh monitored their progress from