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

laughed. “I remember being told to retrieve a bucket of shuttle wash when I first came aboard.”

“Cable stretcher,” Justin interjected while rolling his eyes.

“Didn’t you get taken in by that one, sir?” Feldstein asked as she batted her eyelashes at him.

“Don’t rub it in,” Justin replied as he sat down with the rest of them. “I still wonder how I fell for that. Such a device clearly doesn’t exist, if you think about it for a minute.”

“Oh, Captain Spencer, the great and wonderful fighter pilot who never fails, falling for a prank?” Mateus exaggeratedly dropped her jaw. “Be still my beating Brazilian heart.”

“Shut up and deal the cards,” Justin said with a grin. “We’ll settle this like civilized people.”

“By me cleaning you out.” Mateus took a swig of beer from her mug. “Seems like an eternity since we did this.”

“Funny, I thought that as I came in.” Justin closed his eyes for a moment. “Anyone else feel slighted by fighting these pirates?”

Feldstein snorted. “Targets are targets. They blow up just as good as Leaguers.”

“Yeah, but…” Justin struggled to find the words he wanted to use. “I’m not sure how to explain it. It’s like they’re the JV team or something. For crying out loud, why would anyone start blowing up freighters to make a few credits during an all-out war?”

“Could be aliens.” Adeoye shifted in his seat. “Who knows what’s out there. Harm both sides in a conflict like this then clean up all the humans afterward.”

The concept didn’t resonate with Justin, mostly because of his understanding of geo-galactic politics. If they weren’t friends, the Saurian Empire was at least friendly with the Terran Coalition. Most of the other races around them had no interest in expansion and coexisted peacefully. The human worlds not in the Terran Coalition were fifty to a hundred years behind the Coalition in terms of technology and couldn’t project military power in any meaningful sense. “Okay, my brain hurts. Deal the cards, Mateus.”

She grinned and fanned the deck of cards out in front of her. “I thought you’d never ask, Flyboy.”

After an hour of play, Adeoye was still in the game, while Mateus had gone on a roll. She’d won almost every credit—all five of them—that Justin had brought with him. Feldstein suffered a similar fate.

“I’m going to grab some crackers,” Justin announced and stood. “Anyone want anything?”

“Another beer for me, please,” Adeoye replied.

“Coming right up.” Justin returned momentarily with the crackers and a beer. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Feldstein quirked her nose. “I’ve found fighting these pirates to be a welcome challenge.”

Justin stared at her. “How so?”

“Haven’t you noticed how a lot of the League pilots we face use the same maneuvers over and over? Little creativity.”

“Yeah.” Justin shrugged. “I assumed it’s because they’re novices and the League has few aces.”

“Perhaps. Or they could rotate their combat aces back to teach.”

She had a point. During the Saurian Wars, there were few CDF super aces because after twenty confirmed kills, a pilot was typically pulled off the front line and sent to train rookies. In the current conflict, they didn’t have the luxury of doing so yet. “Maybe.” Justin shrugged. “As long as we keep eliminating them at favorable rates of exchange, who cares?”

“I don’t,” Mateus replied with a wicked grin. “Leaguers. Pirates… whoever. Bring ’em on.” Her accent grew thicker. “The Red Tails will triumph over all enemies.”

“Amen.” Adeoye raised his glass. “Though I encourage us all to remember we should take no joy from the killing of another human or alien, for that matter.”

Justin had struggled with that, because he felt an adrenaline charge from each enemy fighter he blew apart. And a part of me is proud of it. He’d made peace with the feeling of a job well done after each combat sortie. “I’m not sure if joy is the right word, but I don’t lose sleep over sending these guys off to hell or wherever they end up.”

“You believe in hell, now?” Mateus asked.

Justin shrugged. “I don’t know.” He grinned. “I know, nonanswer. I’ve gone to the chapel a few times. It’s personal.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of in exploring faith,” Adeoye said as he spread his hands on the card table. “I have deepened mine over the last year. It affects each of us differently.”

“I’ve sorta reached the conclusion that something had to have made the universe, and if I could figure out what the something was, maybe I should believe in it. I know you three are all believers, so don’t try to convert me all at once.” Justin gave a short laugh.

Feldstein tilted her head. “Jews don’t try to convert anyone. We make it exceptionally hard to become one of us, actually. But I’m glad you’ve reconsidered. We all need something to hold on to out there, and I don’t think I could do this job without my belief in Hashem.”

“Hear! Hear!” Mateus crossed herself. “I like to believe that God is on our side, helping us to fight the League.”

Justin had heard that sentiment often. A phrase from history, uttered by a wartime president of the United States, raced to the front of his mind. “Shouldn’t we want to be on God’s side?”

The comment got him abject stares.

“I didn’t realize you were an armchair philosopher.” Feldstein raised an eyebrow. “That sounded positively intelligent.”

Justin chuckled along with the rest of them. “Not my words. I forget who said it, but the saying stuck with me.” Me, a philosopher? Hah.

“Enough talk. Time for another hand,” Mateus interjected, spreading the cards expertly in front of her. “Let’s enjoy our downtime, because RUMINT is the moment our guests spill the beans, we’ll be jumping out to fight the pirates again.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Justin raised his beer mug. As they each took a hearty chug, he pondered the words Feldstein had uttered a week prior. I pray I don’t have to see any of these people die. God, please don’t let that happen. Keep them safe and help me