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

almost run to the mess hall. He hurried through the hatch with two minutes to spare and no visible sweat marks. It wouldn’t do for the Marines to see me unkempt.

“Over here, Spencer,” Nishimura called out, waving him over to a table near the windows with a prime view of the void.

As he made his way through the lightly trafficked area—the Zvika Greengold didn’t have many Marine officers—Justin took in the square-jawed men and women around him. Unlike regular line CDF soldiers, the Marines maintained far higher personal grooming standards. I don’t think I would’ve survived TCMC bootcamp. He came to a stop next to the seated major. “Captain Justin Spencer reports as ordered, sir.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” Nishimura quirked an eyebrow and gestured to the empty chair. “Have a seat. I took the liberty of ordering you a full breakfast. Bacon, eggs, toast, and oatmeal.”

Justin slid into the chair, eyes widening. “You’ve still got those? We ran out of bacon and eggs weeks ago.”

Nishimura’s eyes twinkled. “Marine quartermasters are wily beasts. I wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t snuck a few chickens aboard.”

“I’m sorry I was beating up the equipment, Major. It’s been a rough few months.”

“You made that obvious.” Nishimura took a sip of coffee. “My only reason for asking you here is to lend an ear. I know from personal experience how hard it is to open up to those around me, and combat is a difficult thing.” He shrugged. “Frankly, shooting someone up close and personal is even harder than blowing their fighter or bomber out of the void. At least you don’t have to see them die.”

His words stung a bit, and Justin felt rebuked, perhaps not entirely unfairly. “Major, it may surprise you to learn this, but I’ve shot and killed an enemy soldier. When I stole the fighter from that League cruiser.” He stared off into the distance. “So I’m quite familiar with the feeling of watching someone die.”

“Ah. I didn’t realize.” Nishimura sucked in a breath. “I suppose the point I’m trying to make is you’re not alone.”

“I feel alone.” The words tumbled out of Justin’s mouth before he could stop them. “Utterly and completely alone.”

Before more could be said, a mess steward appeared and dropped off two plates heaped with food. Once the man had withdrawn, Nishimura bowed his head and put his hands together. “Dear Lord, we thank you for this meal we are about to receive. Bless it to us in Jesus’s name. Amen.”

Justin picked up his fork and speared one of the eggs before using a piece of toast to soak up the yolk. He bit into it and smiled. “That tastes awesome, Major.” After chewing and swallowing, he said, “I don’t recall you praying over the food the last time we ate together.”

“Is that your way of asking, ‘What changed?’”

“Yeah.” Justin frowned. “I’ve noticed a lot of my friends seemingly retreating into their religious beliefs over the last few months.”

“I can’t speak for them, but as for me…”Nishimura set his fork down, as if what he was about to say required full concentration. “On the freighter we captured, I met a woman who, despite living under a communist dictatorship, kept her faith. Incredibly, in talking to her, I discovered her entire family was Christian, and they hid it from the authorities. If found out, all faced reeducation camps, torture, or death.”

“How do you know she was telling the truth?” The idea seemed foreign to Justin. Why would someone risk everything over faith or a belief that couldn’t be proven?

“Spencer, as God is my witness, everything that came out of her mouth was the gospel truth.” Nishimura pursed his lips and shook his head. “It’s made me do some hard introspection for the last few weeks. You’re looking at a man who didn’t get to church much and felt like having to get up early on Sunday was an imposition on his rest time. I could sit here and list dozens of ways I haven’t lived up to or shown what I believe through my actions.”

Justin sat mutely as the Marine continued, pondering his words. As he played them over in his mind, a question emerged. He was willing to risk his life in fighting for the freedoms and ideals of the Terran Coalition. So why is it so difficult to accept that someone would risk their life and liberty for faith?

“But that’s not the biggest thing I’ve had to confront.” Nishimura set his jaw. “I went into the fight wanting to kill everyone on that ship. Frankly, I was pissed off Colonel Tehrani had ordered the use of stun rounds. From my perspective, the only good Leaguer was a dead Leaguer after what those bastards pulled on us at Canaan.” He sucked in a breath. “I’ve had to admit to myself there are decent people in the League, and it’s wrong for me to hate them.”

Justin took a few moments to process the entirety of what Nishimura had said. A light bulb turned on in his mind. “If we don’t hate them, how can we be okay with killing them? I thought the entire point was to dehumanize the enemy so they’re easy to kill.”

“I suppose that’s the easy way out,” Nishimura replied. “Though I’d submit to you after reflection, the far healthier way to go about it is to count the costs and keep perspective in fighting the enemy. So we don’t become just like them.”

“This is some deep discussion for breakfast.”

“Hey, that’s what you get for coming to Marine country. We’re not only sharp uniforms and gleaming rifle drills.” Nishimura’s deep laugh seemed to fill the air. “Now, what’s eating you?”

Justin took another bite and swallowed. “If I were to try to put a finger on it, I’d say I felt empty inside. Which I realize sounds stupid.”

“Not at all. All of us feel the same way at some point. That’s what the shrinks are there for and the support groups when we get home. At