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

the squadron loosed their warheads, and the moment they entered energy-weapon range, the blue glow of miniature-neutron-cannon bolts filled the blackness of space. Red plasma balls crisscrossed the void, but they were short-lived. One by one, the four enemy craft exploded.

Since his targeting reticule had been smack over the Leaguer he was attacking when it blew up, Martin thought it must be his kill. “Delta One, splash one.” How about that. First time for everything. Bomber pilots getting in on the fun. “We’re clear. Stand by to jump to coordinates provided by Alpha One.”

While the Marines were busy blowing up the remaining bulkhead between them and the freighter’s bridge, Master Gunnery Sergeant O’Conner and the rest of the VBSS force finished sweeping the aft section of the ship and joined the main element. They arrived as the last charge was set on the hatch leading to the vessel’s control center.

“Master Guns,” Nishimura began, “welcome to the party.” He jerked his thumb forward. “You’re here just in time to help us finish off these assholes.”

“Finish them off, sir?”

Nishimura gestured to his battle rifle. “I’m done with the stun rounds. Reload for lethal combat.”

“Sir,” O’Conner replied quietly. “Our orders—”

“Screw our orders!” Nishimura thundered. “These bastards killed two of my Marines. They’re no longer civilians, Master Guns. They’re enemy combatants, and I only know one speed with dealing with the enemy. Kill them all, and let God sort it out.”

“With respect, sir, we still need someone from the bridge crew to help us operate the ship. That won’t happen if they’re all dead,” MacIntosh interjected. “I realize I’m an observer here, but still, it’s a valid point.”

“He’s right, sir,” O’Conner said. “I think you know that. Killing the people in there won’t bring back our fallen.”

He was right, but the anger within didn’t want to go quietly. Nishimura bit his lip. “Fine, we’ll use nonlethal to storm, but any of them step out of line, and I’ll shoot them myself. Clear, Master Guns?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Switch ammo to stun and stand back,” Nishimura ordered. When the group was six meters away from the hatch and all battle rifles were reloaded, he nodded to one of the enlisted Marines. “Blow it.”

“Fire in the hole!”

An enormous explosion blew out from the sealed alloy door, sending shards of metal and a sheet of flame outward. The breaching element immediately leaped into action, tossing flashbangs inside before rushing in.

As Nishimura charged forward, the sharp report of battle rifles rang out. He was intent on being the first power armor suit through after the breach team. As he cleared the hatch, a massive wrench narrowly missed his helmet. Nishimura twisted out of the way and used the butt of his weapon to stun the attacker—a human male wearing the same jumpsuit uniform as the other crewmembers they’d encountered earlier.

A few civilians had taken cover behind a group of consoles and fired on the Marines with improvised weapons, including some sort of industrial nail gun. They screamed in a foreign tongue, and one man stood holding a piece of metal with a hose attached. He charged the closest Marine, and as he did, a bright-blue flame erupted from the end of it.

Nishimura watched in horror, too far away to stop it but close enough to feel the incredible heat coming off the plasma torch. It touched the helmet of his Marine and burned through almost instantly. Inhuman screams filled the bridge, and Nishimura closed the distance as fast as he could. His battle rifle spat stun rounds, sending the Leaguer flying backward while the plasma torch flopped onto the deck and began to burn through it.

Chaos reigned for a few more seconds as the Marines quickly gained the upper hand over the civilians. A woman clutching an electrical tool dropped it as several power-armored marines closed in, and resistance ceased.

Heart pounding, Nishimura turned back toward his fallen Marine. The life-sign indicator showed a red line, and once he’d turned the body over, he saw why. The torch had burned through half of the man’s skull. Damn, Private Schultz, you deserved a better end. Rage exploded within Nishimura. He drew his sidearm, ensured it was loaded with lethal ammunition, and advanced on the man who’d snuffed Schultz’s life out.

“Sir, what are you doing?” O’Conner asked, suddenly appearing at his side.

“Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth,” Nishimura replied and raised the weapon.

The woman—who was the only Leaguer not stunned—raised her arms and started jabbering, but the words didn’t make sense. She was evidently pleading for something. When the Marines didn’t react, she seemingly worked up the courage to stand and pointed at the cross symbol on Nishimura’s armored suit.

He stared at her with a stern expression. “I don’t speak whatever you're going on in, lady.” Nishimura’s finger moved to the trigger. This piece of shit doesn’t deserve to live. None of them do.

“Do you speak English?” she finally asked with a hint of an accent. “Please, if you can understand me, don’t harm him. If we didn’t resist, the political commissars would kill us all and our families.”

“He killed one of my Marines. No one walks away from that.”

Again, she pointed at the cross on his armor. “Are you a Christian? You must be a Terran.”

“Yeah, on both accounts.” Nishimura’s finger rested on the trigger. Why aren’t I just putting two in this asshole’s chest and one in the head?

“I’m a Christian too.” The declaration caused every Marine on the bridge to stare at her.

“What?” Nishimura blurted out. “The League of Sol is a communist empire that pipes propaganda into our space all day, talking about how enlightened you all are and that there’s no superstitions allowed.”

“And if they ever found out, I’d be sent to a reeducation camp along with my husband and children. Please, have mercy.” She practically knelt in front of him, hands still raised.

Nishimura felt like a surreal curtain had fallen over the bridge. The book doesn’t have anything in it to cover this. He