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

usual requests to the control center, and ninety minutes later, the freighter had a full load. It took more time to get to the Lawrence limit than it had to fill the helium-3 tanks, which gave him a lot of time to ponder what had occurred over the last few hours.

“You okay, sir?” MacIntosh asked.

Nishimura shook himself. “Yeah. Why?”

“Far be it from a lowly fleet officer to notice, but you seem like you have a lot on your mind.”

“Yeah, suppose I do.” He jerked his back, pointing toward Flores. “What do you make of her?”

MacIntosh sat down across from Nishimura’s perch on the bridge. “I think she’s a devout woman in a difficult situation and was forced to make some tough calls.” He pursed his lips. “And I wonder if I would’ve had the strength of character to make the same ones were I in her place.”

“Well, you nailed what I’m grappling with.” Nishimura smiled thinly. “You know? One of those events in life that forces you to stop and pay attention.”

Seemingly unaware or unwilling to acknowledge that the primary topic of conversation was her, Flores interrupted them. “Major, we’ve reached the FTL limit. I can jump us to your ship if you’d like.”

“All the same, I’ll have Captain MacIntosh handle the Lawrence jump,” Nishimura said. He held up a gauntleted hand. “Look, not to insult you, but I’m careful. Four thousand lives depend on it.”

Flores nodded and stood. “Of course.”

“Plug it in, Captain,” Nishimura said as he turned his head toward the windows at the front of the bridge.

Flores stared at him. “Why do you call the wormhole generator a Lawrence drive?”

“Hey, I’m a Marine. Not much on schooling,” Nishimura replied with a chuckle. “I recollect that Sir James Lawrence invented the thing in the twenty-first century, and we named our capital city after him.” He shrugged. “Beyond that… Captain, you got anything more?”

“That’s the basics, sir,” MacIntosh said. “But more so, he helped bring humanity together once it left Earth. That’s why it’s called Lawrence City, because there would’ve been no Terran Coalition without him. The other thing I think some of us forget was Dr. Lawrence was an avowed atheist. That part gets glossed over in our history sometimes.” He looked up from the console. “System’s ready, sir. Coordinates locked in.”

Nishimura set his jaw. “Do it.”

The lights dimmed, and a vortex opened directly in front of the freighter’s bow. Much like with the Terran Coalition Lawrence drive, a multicolored light show danced in space as the maw of the wormhole grew, beckoning them in. The ship accelerated and, a few moments later, popped out the other side.

“That was beautiful,” Nishimura said. He was in awe of the spectacle, eyes transfixed. “Uh, did we come out where we were supposed to?”

“Your first time seeing a wormhole jump?” Flores asked.

“Yeah,” Nishimura replied. “Marines get the cheap seats. We’re never on the bridge, always in the interior of the ship.” He gazed out the window, staring at the blackness of the void. “Back to business, though. Where are we?”

Flores pointed at a flashing light on one of the control stations. “The communications system detects an incoming transmission.”

“Fire it up, Captain.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” MacIntosh crossed the bridge and sat at the comms console. A few moments later, he spoke into a mic. “Hello? This is MacIntosh.”

“This is Lieutenant Singh. We read you loud and clear, Captain. Do you have the fuel?”

MacIntosh grinned. “Oh yes, we do. Are you guys ready for us to start the transfer?”

“Per Colonel Tehrani’s orders, begin immediately.”

“Excellent, Lieutenant. We’ll maneuver alongside and extend the umbilical.” MacIntosh turned to Nishimura. “With your permission, sir?”

“Let’s get this show on the road.” God, if you’re up there, now would be a good time for everything to go right for a change. Time would tell.

17

Tension on the bridge of the Zvika Greengold was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Tehrani would’ve paced back and forth if not for the need to display a steady command bearing. Updates from the raid on Sol had been sparse, and she hated being unable to affect the outcome.

As if sensing her unease, Wright leaned in. “I’m worried about them too.”

“On some level, I know it’s silly to worry, because it gets me nothing positive. But I can’t help it. Those men and women are under my command, and I’m responsible for them.”

Wright nodded. “In my book, that’s the sign of a good CO, ma’am.”

“How’s the refueling going?”

“Helium-3 tanks are above fifty percent,” Wright replied after checking his console. “Another half an hour until they’re full.”

Tehrani processed the information. Another forty-five minutes after that to get our reactor back online. We’ve survived this long. We can handle another hour and a half. She settled back into her chair, mind mollified.

“Conn, Communications. I’ve got Captain Spencer on a burst transmission, ma’am.”

So much for relaxing. “Put it on my viewer, Lieutenant.”

An image of Justin’s face appeared on the screen above Tehrani’s head. It contained a great deal of static and artifacts, indicative of either jamming or being at the limit of the technology’s range. “Colonel, if you can hear me, we’ve really stirred up the hornet’s nest. All fighters are proceeding at best speed to the Lawrence limit, but the League is boxing us in. I’m sending you our projected course and time frame to jump.”

“Captain, how many hostiles are you dealing with?”

“We’ve lost four Ghosts so far—all pilots KIA. If we can’t jump, the plan is to fight to the last man and woman.”

It seemed as if he couldn’t hear Tehrani. She frowned. “Captain, transmit a continuous beacon via your comm system so we can home in on it.”

“You’re breaking up, ma’am. I’ll try again when we’re closer to the limit. Spencer out.”

Tehrani nearly gave in to the impulse to smash her palm into the control panel on her chair. “Dammit.”

“We have a partial lock on Spencer’s craft from that transmission,” Wright said as he touched a button on his viewer. “Here, skipper.”

“I see