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

“Um, I’m not sure, ma’am. Maybe we could strip the stealth raiders of their helium-3 supplies. Put everyone on the Greengold for the trip home.”

“That won’t work,” Hodges shot back. “We need twenty times that amount of fuel.” He rubbed his eyes. “In the Terran Coalition, we get helium-3 from gas giants. Specifically, mining the top part of their atmosphere and refining it out. It’s an automated process, for the most part, with only a few dozen personnel required to oversee the system.”

Tehrani picked up the thought. “We have recon fighters, marine assault landers, and stealth raiders.” She grinned. “Let’s find one of these stations, board it, and take the fuel.”

“Let me get this straight,” Whatley said. “You want my pilots to run stealth recon missions on solar systems around here, trying to find a helium-3 mining operation so we can steal enough fuel to accomplish our mission and get home?”

“That sums it up quite well, CAG,” Wright replied. “I think I see where you’re going, though.”

“That’s insane.” Whatley crossed his arms. “I’m all for sticking it to the enemy, but I suggest to you that a better course of action is to get our birds as close to Earth as we can on the stealth raiders, launch the attack, and try our luck on the Salinan for a return trip.”

Tehrani shook her head. “Major Hodges just explained why that’s not a viable option. I’m not leaving some portion of this crew behind, nor am I sentencing them to die from carbon dioxide poisoning six thousand light-years from home.”

“There’s more to it than that. We’ll need something to ferry the helium-3 back to the Greengold. Nothing in our inventory can do it,” Hodges interjected.

“First things first. Find a source of fuel and perhaps a low-travel system with only a few freighters. Something ripe for us to raid,” Tehrani said, forcing a hopeful tone. By Allah, that sounds insane when I say it aloud.

A pregnant pause filled the room, as if no one wanted to give voice to what they probably all felt: any attempt to get more fuel from the League was a long shot at best.

Whatley finally spoke. “If we’re going to take a run at this, we’re lucky to have the best recon assets in the CDF on our flight deck. Colonel, with your permission, I’ll plan for and execute as many missions as possible to find that needle in the haystack you just laid out.”

“Proceed.” Tehrani put her hands on the table. “If we had to, how much of the crew could the stealth raiders and the Salinan take on safely?”

“The stealth raiders can generate life support for double their current crew complement with some tweaks to O2-generation systems and CO2 scrubbers. But the Salinan is a giant tug with loads of cargo space. It’s not designed to carry loads of passengers,” Wright replied. “We have to be realistic and understand that if the Zvika Greengold can’t get back to Terran Coalition space under her own power, most of our crew isn’t going home.”

“We’re not there yet,” Tehrani said quietly. She turned to Hodges. “Major, besides needing fuel, what’s the status of our reactor?”

“Structurally intact, thankfully, ma’am. Some of the primary hot-liquid loop is damaged and will need to be replaced. I’ve got every member of my team pulling double shifts now.”

“Good. Keep it up. Pull in any support you need. XO, see to it all engineering personnel are excused from watch standing.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Wright replied.

“Gentlemen, we’re probably going to need a miracle to get out of this. But we’ll do our part to make it happen. I want updates in two hours. Dismissed and Godspeed.”

They all stood and moved with purpose, almost like she’d fired a gun. More than that, Tehrani felt an essential emotion in herself and her officers: hope. Hope could see one through many a struggle, and at the moment, it was one of the few advantages they had.

9

“Anyone else find it amusing we’re using these fighters in the way the CDF intended?”

Justin chuckled. Whatley’s briefing had begun with a few jokes at the SFS-4 Ghosts’ expense. Every pilot on the ship was present as the CAG laid out their upcoming mission. Any distraction, especially one that might help get them home, was welcome. Word of the reactor failure, and worse, its dire consequences, had spread to every soldier on the Zvika Greengold. Despite the seriousness of the situation, many of the pilots used humor to cope.

“I see we’ve got a funny man here. Maybe I should put changing your call sign to Joker on the agenda,” Whatley groused at one of the pilots from Winged Lightning. “Yes, we’re going to use the Ghost for what it was designed to do—reconnaissance.” He touched a control, and the holoprojector sprang to life, displaying dozens of stars around a circle point. “We are here.” Whatley pointed at the dot in the middle, a short distance from Earth’s solar system. “Our orders are simple. Find a viable fuel supply.”

Justin leaned forward. “Major, what about secondary objectives? A helium-3 mining operation can’t be the only requirement. Logically, we need to find one in a system without a lot of traffic.”

Whatley grinned. “Well, how about that. One of you flyboys uses your head every once in a while. Captain Spencer is correct, ladies and gentlemen. It’s not enough for us to find the fuel. We have to be able to capture it quietly.”

Little stellar-cartography knowledge on the Orion arm of the galaxy existed. While the Terran Coalition had explored extensively in Sagittarius, what information they had for the local area around Earth had been carried by the Exodus refugees hundreds of years ago. In short, it was limited to mostly star type and, in a few systems, notations on exoplanets discovered before 2070.

“We’ll be running twelve recon teams at a time. Two Ghosts per team,” Whatley explained. “One squadron will be held in reserve in case of League attack.”

Feldstein raised her hand. “Major, what’re our rules