Bandits Engaged (Battlegroup Z Book 4) by Daniel Gibbs (classic literature list .txt) 📗

“What’s bothering me is that my wife has no idea how…” Justin stared at the cross.

“How close you came to cheating on her?”

The way the priest summed things up was both direct and comforting. Justin could tell by his tone of voice there was no condemnation in his words—only a desire to make him face his emotions. “Yeah. That.”

Elliott smiled warmly. “Tell me something. Michelle, she’s a nagging woman that never lets you forget about anything, recounts your faults every time you speak with her, and makes you feel like the lowest of the low?”

For a moment, Justin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His jaw dropped. “Uh, no. Anything but. Why would you even say that?”

“Because you’ve repeatedly told me how afraid you are of being vulnerable and discussing your feelings with her. There’s got to be a reason you feel like that.” Elliott stared at him with a piercing gaze.

“Michelle is the kindest person I’ve ever met. She never meets a stranger, and if I let her, she’d give every cent we ever made away to help others. She’s far better than I deserve.”

“Then why don’t you try telling her what you just told me, in those exact words, Justin? You’re letting guilt eat you up.” Elliott folded his arms. “This is somewhat more difficult than I’m used to, because I can’t quite give you purely secular advice or go all-in on the religious instruction.” He made a show of rolling his eyes.

Justin chuckled. “I’m sorry, Father. Us flyboys do tend to make things difficult.” He licked his lips. “So, just tell her the truth?”

“Best idea I’ve heard out of you all night. From what you’ve told me about Michelle, I suspect you’ll find she’s far more inclined to forgive you than you’ve been to forgive yourself.” Elliott pointed at one of the Bibles in the pew in front of them. “If you forgive others their sins, your heavenly Father will forgive you. If you don’t, neither will He. Start by forgiving yourself, Justin.”

If only it were that easy. Images flashed through Justin’s mind—of exploding fighters, lost comrades and friends, and things he knew he’d done wrong. He stared at his feet. “Whenever I stop to let myself think, Father, I feel this overwhelming condemnation for my many failures… and sins.” Adding the religious label to his actions felt strange.

“Haven’t read much of those verses I gave you, have you?”

“I suppose not.”

“‘All things work together for good to them that love God, and are called according to His purpose.’ That’s in Romans. Read it. It’s not just words, Justin. It’s something to live by. Even when we can’t see it, we have to hold on to the idea there’s a plan bigger than us.”

“Then why have so many of my pilots died, Father?” His eyes grew wide and filled with tears. “If God really exists, then why doesn’t He do something about the League of Sol?”

Elliott was quiet for some time. He stared intently at Justin and put his hand on his shoulder. “Maybe He did. Perhaps He put a group of warriors on a ship together so that they would fight against all odds—against everything the League threw at us. Led by a young man with a decent heart, who cares about those under his command and doesn’t waste their lives. Would you consider that?”

Justin kicked the priest’s words around in his mind. I suppose if I were to accept the concept of a higher being, it makes sense. He nodded and chose his words carefully. “I’ll try. Consider me a work in progress.”

“Ha. So am I, young whippersnapper.” Elliott laughed.

“I wasn’t expecting to find anyone here at this hour.”

Both of them turned to the newcomer and found Major Kosuke Nishimura, the Greengold’s Marine commander, standing there. He was out of uniform and wearing athletic clothes.

Elliott spoke. “It seems there’s always someone here, these days.”

“I can believe that.” He took a few steps toward a pew. “Fancy seeing you here, Spencer.”

Justin chuckled. “Yeah. I’m not quite here regularly yet.”

“Nothing wrong with sporadic appearances, Captain.” Nishimura sat. “Don’t mind me.”

“I guess I’d better get going,” Justin said as he stood. “Oh-dark-thirty comes early.”

“Come over to Marine country, and we’ll get you some real PT,” Nishimura replied good-naturedly. “None of that sissy officer-country stuff.”

“Perhaps I’ll take you up on that sometime, Major.” Justin chuckled. “Thank you, Father. I’ll, uh, see you soon.”

“I hope so, my son,” Elliott replied.

Justin turned and strode out of the chapel. The hatch shut behind him. He walked through the ship's passageways and back to the officers’ quarters deck where his cabin was located. All the while, his mind churned. Justin was unsettled, and it was starting to show. I’ve got to hold it together. My pilots depend on me, and the war’s not going to stop for one man to consider his beliefs. Resolving to soldier on, he entered his stateroom, stripped off his uniform, and climbed into bed.

The nightmares returned.

8

CSV Zvika Greengold

Deep Space—Terran Coalition Border Zone 12

25 August 2434

A few hours earlier, a string of cryptic messages came in via the flash traffic system. After decryption, Tehrani had pieced together that they were supposed to meet Grant and his Q-ship in an out-of-the-way area of space, far beyond the reaches of any solar system. So there they sat. The Greengold, sans her battlegroup, was parked and running on EMCON Alpha to reduce the already-minimal chances of being found by League sensors.

“I’d rather do something besides work with this CIS spook,” Wright grumbled as he adjusted his cover. On the bridge, everyone wore Zvika Greengold ball caps. It was an old wet navy tradition that the control center was treated as if it were outside, and therefore a cover was worn.

“Such as?”

“Root canal, visit my in-laws, listen to a League of Sol propaganda video, clean out a dumpster. Literally anything.”

“You’ll get no argument from me, but we need him.”

Wright closed his eyes briefly. “I know. The Q-ship is inspired, and hey,