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

the enemy who attacked us in our homes is something to be proud of joining.”

Justin realized he had four kings. “I’ll raise you all by a credit.” He threw a larger chip into the pot. “To me, this is another mission, albeit a far more dangerous one. I just want to live through it and see my family again.”

“Thanks for the somber reminder, Captain,” Mateus groused. She had a point—it felt almost like the temperature of the room had dropped below zero. “I’ll see your wager and raise you another credit.”

“Done.” Justin dropped another black chip in.

“Too rich for my blood,” Adeoye commented and handed his cards back to Mateus. “I’m out.”

“Me too,” Feldstein said, also turning her cards in.

“Just you and me, Spencer. Show ’em, cowboy.”

Justin laughed and flipped his cards right side up. “Four kings.”

“Ah. A great hand most days.” She turned her cards up one at a time, revealing four aces. “But not today.”

“You played me the entire time,” Justin said as he rolled his eyes in mock frustration. “I was so sure you were bluffing.”

Mateus just grinned while gathering all the chips arrayed in front of her. “This gets about half my credits back. Time for another hand.”

Laughter flowed through the room as the four of them played hand after hand. The game continued until nearly 0100 CMT before it finally broke up.

Justin, Adeoye, and Feldstein left together and were sober—with a battle the next day, no one wanted a hangover. They entered the nearest gravlift, and Justin pressed a button for deck twelve.

Adeoye reached over and hit the one for deck eleven. “Ah, it is always enjoyable to share the company of others. Especially before combat.”

“I can’t speak for the rest of you, but it makes me feel less alone,” Justin said. He stood at the back of the lift as it began to move. “And that’s nice.”

“It is,” Feldstein interjected with a glance at Justin. “We’ve got to be insane.”

“Why?” Adeoye asked.

“Because only someone who’s insane would be able to sleep before strapping into a combat spacecraft, intent on blowing as many Leaguers out of space as possible,” she replied. “I’m planning on sleeping like a baby.”

The lift stopped, and its doors opened. “This is my stop for a nightcap,” Adeoye stated and stepped out. “Sleep well, my friends. May we be victorious.”

“Godspeed, Jackson,” Feldstein replied. “I’ll see you bright and early in the gym.”

“Godspeed to you too, Dvora.”

The lift doors slid shut, and it began to move again. “It was great to do this tonight. I’m glad Mateus puts it on.” Justin let out a yawn.

“To think, we used to have to drag you out of your shell too.” Her expression shifted, and she pursed her lips. “I was a different person six months ago.”

“Me too.” Justin tilted his head. “Sometimes, it all feels like a dream, you know?”

“I think the word you were looking for is ‘nightmare.’” Feldstein took a step backward, closer to him. “But it’s not all bad. Without this war, I wouldn’t have you as such a good friend.”

Justin turned and stared at her. “I’ve heard some old-timers say as a war goes on, we’re able to keep on because of our fellow brothers and sisters in arms.”

“Makes sense to me.” Feldstein took Justin’s hand in hers. “Just promise me you won’t take too many risks.”

A bolt of electricity shot through Justin. He jerked his hand back and was saved from further discussion by the lift chime going off and the doors opening to reveal two enlisted soldiers waiting to board.

“Uh, good night, Lieutenant.” He trotted out the door and briskly walked down the corridor. Weird. We must’ve had too much to drink or something.

After a few minutes more, Justin entered his cabin. He was so tired that he collapsed onto his bed before he could take his uniform off. Sleep came immediately.

11

Deep Space

CSV Zvika Greengold

26 May 2434

H-hour fast approached on the bridge of the Zvika Greengold. Tehrani had spent her morning doing the usual military routine, gone to the onboard mosque for prayer, then settled into standing the early watch. The day would be one of those when she was on the bridge for twelve hours or more. More importantly, by the end of it, they would all know what their fate was to be—and if the Greengold would make it out of League space.

Even with the possible dire outcome, infectious energy flowed through the bridge, and Tehrani had felt it everywhere she’d gone. It brought a smile to her face. I could not ask for a better crew or for a group of people more devoted to their duties.

The entire first-shift bridge team was present along with Wright. He sat to her left in the XO’s chair.

“Ten minutes to execution point, ma’am.” His voice was calm and professional, but Tehrani knew he was anything but tranquil, and neither was anyone else beneath the surface.

“Squadron status?” she asked.

“Everyone’s on ready five. All four stealth raiders report ready, and the Marines are loaded up.” Wright shivered. “I’m going to buy them all a drink when they get back. The idea of bracing myself into a weapons pod underneath a fighter is so far outside of what I’d consider in the realm of the possible that it’s not funny. You’d have to shoot me up with a tranquilizer to get me in there.”

Tehrani laughed. “Preaching to the choir, XO.” She stared out the windows at the front of the bridge. The other vessels in their small battlegroup were tightly clustered around the carrier and visible against the stars’ outline. How insignificant we are in the universe. “Communications, get me 1MC and pipe it through to the entire fleet.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Singh replied immediately. “You’re on for 1MC fleetwide, ma’am.”

“Officers and crew of Battlegroup Z, this is your commanding officer, Colonel Banu Tehrani. In a few minutes, we will embark on the beginning of the final leg of our journey. While a small team of Marines storm a League