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

“How long have you been awake?” Wright asked quietly.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Hodges snapped.

“Everything.” Wright crossed his arms. “With respect, ma’am, I would advocate for ensuring that for every twelve hours of work the core engineering team completes, six hours of sleep should be required.”

“There’s no way in hell we’ll be ready to refuel the reactor before two days, then,” Hodges said, his eyes suddenly flashing with anger.

“Colonel, my recommendation is that we take a slower, steady approach rather than push for speed above all else,” Wright replied.

Tehrani kicked both arguments around mentally. Her first instinct was to speed ahead and throw caution to the wind because of their location. What good will that do us if we blow the Greengold up from a lousy reactor repair? “I’d rather we get this out of the way and be ready to refuel the ship tomorrow.” She glanced between Hodges and Wright. “But we’ll do it the XO’s way. Ensure your engineers get rest every twelve hours, Major.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Hodges set his jaw and appeared as if he wanted to challenge her order but thought better of it.

“Okay. None of it matters unless we can capture some fuel.” Tehrani shifted her eyes to Nishimura and Wright. “Gentlemen?”

They looked at each other as if asking, “Who wants to go first?”

Wright cleared his throat. “Ma’am, Captain Spencer’s plan will work to deliver the Marines on target, but I feel the need to point out it’s exceptionally hazardous.”

“Go on.”

“We can fit six Marines in full power armor within the internal weapons bay of each Ghost fighter,” Nishimura interjected. “Using four of them gives us twenty-four combat effectives and enough force to storm a fuel tanker of the same type observed by Captain Spencer.”

Tehrani widened her eyes at the sheer audacity of their plan. “I honestly didn’t expect any of you to buy into Spencer’s suggestion. It sounded outlandish to me and nearly impossible to accomplish.”

Nishimura leaned forward and shook his head. “No, ma’am. Exceptionally hazardous, as the CAG said, but not impossible. Our power armor has its own life-support functions and is rated for use in the void. Force Recon and the tier-one operators of Space Special Warfare Command have delivery vehicles for this sort of action, but I’m afraid neither the Zvika Greengold nor any other ship in the fleet has them. So we’re forced to improvise. It’ll be a highly uncomfortable journey, and I expect my muscles to hurt the next day, but that’s what the TCMC is paid to do.” He flashed a smile. “I’ve got twenty-three volunteers plus me.”

“You’ll be leading the mission directly?” Tehrani asked. “Isn’t that typically done by a platoon lieutenant, Major?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Nishimura sucked in a breath. “But six thousand light-years from home, I’m not asking one of my men to do something I’m not willing to do myself.”

She wholly understood and subscribed to the sentiment. Besides, if the Marines weren’t successful, none of it mattered. Even if they managed to strike Sol, the League would relentlessly track them down. What good are heroes paraded in front of the holocams for public execution? When one considered the attack's real objective, it boiled down to improving the Terran Coalition's morale. And giving us collectively the wherewithal to keep up the war. “I understand, Major.” She turned to Whatley. “Your verdict?”

“I personally think Marines are insane,” Whatley began with a grin. “But we’re out of options. We’ll get them there. The downside is we’ll be flying with almost no weapons besides the miniature neutron cannons.”

“In other words,” Wright interjected, “if anything goes wrong, the entire op is screwed. That about sum it up?”

“Yeah,” Nishimura said. “So we won’t screw up. Besides, Marines always succeed.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Wright retorted good-naturedly.

Tehrani cleared her throat and propped her hands on the conference table. “Then we have a viable tactical plan for getting the fuel. Two pieces of the puzzle remain. One is the attack on Earth. The other is timing.”

“Captain MacIntosh has completed a detailed analysis of the scan results from the Astute and my sister ships,” Fielding said, gesturing at the Scotsman. “He has some thoughts on the matter I think you should hear.”

“By all means. Captain?”

“Ah, yes, ma’am.” MacIntosh plucked a small data cube from his pocket and slid it into the mounted holoprojector. A few moments later, a 3-D view of the Sol System based on the stealth raiders’ imaging passes presented itself. “As you all can see, there are numerous in-system defense installations around Earth. Going out from there, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and Uranus also have extensive orbital stations. However, the farther we go from Earth, the less military infrastructure I see in evidence.”

“Does this mean we can’t attack Earth directly?” Wright asked.

MacIntosh nodded. “Most likely, sir. We’re looking for targets of opportunity—lightly defended and, more importantly, near the L4 and L5 Lawrence limit points.”

“So our pilots can get out fast once they stir up the hornet’s nest,” Whatley rumbled. “Okay. What’s the good news? Because I really wanted to blow something up around Earth.”

Polite chuckles greeted the CAG’s comment.

MacIntosh smiled. “I think you’ll like these, sir.” He touched a point near Jupiter. “Large-scale helium-3 fuel refinery, with automated freighters going in and out of the gas giant’s atmosphere every ten minutes. Additionally, stations dedicated to growing food dot the orbits of Jupiter’s moons. Europa and Ganymede have the highest concentration, and what appear to be thermal power plants on Io.”

“How do you know the stations are for food generation?” Nishimura asked. “That seems like a bit of a leap, because all I see here are some oblong, cylindrical space stations. Who knows what they’re for? Could be Leaguer casinos for all we know.”

MacIntosh appeared to take the question in stride. Tehrani had already noticed his calm demeanor and easygoing attitude, which made the young man seem well ahead of his years. His next statement confirmed her belief.

“Do you see these objects, here, Major?” MacIntosh asked politely.