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

“He served?”

Nishimura nodded. “Second Saurian War, TCMC. I come by my occupation honestly.”

“I think I’m the first person in my family to serve in some time. A few generations back, some cousins were in the CDF, but we don’t have a big family tradition of service.” Justin shrugged as he sipped his coffee. “Truthfully, I didn’t realize what it meant to be a part of something bigger than myself until this war started.”

“You’re not the only one,” Nishimura said with a snort. “Lots of young Marines don’t seem to get it until people start shooting at them.” His expression softened. “But that’s okay. What matters is you youngsters get it in the end.”

“I’ve tried to fill the emptiness, but nothing’s worked so far.”

Nishimura furrowed his brow. “Without trying to offend you, I’d mention I’ve found solace in my faith as of late.”

“That would be one of the few things, besides getting drunk every night, I haven’t done yet.” And there it is again, the enjoinment to try God. Justin crossed his arms.

“Hey, I get it. You’re tired of hearing people tell you about religion, right?”

“Well, to be fair, no one’s pestered me. It’s just all around the place, and yeah, I get sick of it.” Justin shrugged. “I don’t believe in a higher power. There’s little evidence to support it, and it’s more likely to me we’re a result of random chance.” As he uttered the words, a voice tugged at the back of his mind. Do I really believe that? Some of the incredible luck he’d experienced came to the forefront. I probably shouldn’t be alive, yet I am. Is it proof that low-probability events occur or something else?

“It’s something you’re going to have to figure out for yourself,” Nishimura replied. “But for the sake of your squadron mates, you’ve got to do something about the mood,” he said frankly. “Mental distractions are deadly, not only to you but also to your brothers and sisters fighting beside you.”

Justin processed Nishimura’s words. Oh, if the major only knew. “Got any other suggestions besides going to church?” His tone was harsher than he’d intended.

“Well, maybe talk to a shrink? There’s a few in the doc shack now.”

“Yeah. I might do that.” Justin shook his head. “The idea of going down there makes me feel silly. I should be able to deal with this stuff on my own.”

“That’s what we all think, Spencer. If only it were true.”

Justin finished his last bite. “Well, I’d better get down to the ready room before Major Whatley sends a master-at-arms after me.”

Nishimura laughed loudly. “You’re welcome here any time… and if you need someone to talk to, my hatch is always open.”

“Thank you, sir.” His comment touched Justin. He could hear the sincerity, and it felt good to know he had an outlet for his emotions. Especially since I need to avoid Dvora for a while. Justin stood and took his plate. “I’ll see you around, sir.”

“Godspeed, Captain.”

As Justin walked away, he pondered Nishimura’s comments. Seeing a hardcore Marine officer so obviously affected by a Leaguer was something of a shock. Forcing himself to consider why he detested religion when he’d asked God for help was another thing he had to deal with. I suppose I’m just another hypocrite, like everyone else. Still troubled, Justin pushed the thoughts out of his mind and focused on what he hoped would be another dull day, jumping through the void. If the League caught them, it wasn’t likely to end well.

23

Near Canaan Solar System – Terran Coalition

CSV Zvika Greengold

28 July 2434

Once the Zvika Greengold had returned to Terran Coalition space, Tehrani started sleeping in her expansive quarters below decks. She had much to be proud of in her pilots’ and soldiers’ performances, but it didn’t assuage the guilt she carried for leaving a few behind. She’d chosen to believe all had perished rather than confront the possibility of someone being held by the League. Almost anything would be better than that fate.

When she’d gone to sleep, they were three jumps out from Canaan. Tehrani had, on order from General Saurez, given instructions to hold at the final jump. The next morning at 0430, Tehrani was up like clockwork. After a workout, a shower, and breakfast, she arrived on deck one. The doors of the gravlift slid open to reveal two Marine sentries stationed where they always were, directly before the hatch to the bridge.

Tehrani exchanged quick salutes with the Marines, who stood at attention before opening the portal. She strode onto the bridge to find it fully staffed with first-watch personnel, including Wright, Bryan, Singh, and Mitzner.

“Colonel on the bridge!” a senior chief called out.

“As you were,” she said and smiled at Wright as she walked to the CO’s chair. “This is Colonel Tehrani. I have the conn.”

“Colonel Tehrani has the conn,” Wright said formally and returned her smile. “Sleep well, skipper?”

“As well as can be expected, I suppose.” Tehrani sat in the leather chair and pulled up the interface attached to it. “Ship status, XO?”

“All systems go, ma’am. Ready to jump to Canaan on your order. We have details in both hangar bays standing by to man the sides.”

Now, we go home. She assumed Saurez had some kind of ceremony or celebration planned. Probably lots of media. The thought of the press brought out a grimace. “Thank you, Major.” She turned to Mitzner. “Navigation, confirm Lawrence drive coordinates.”

“Coordinates confirmed, ma’am. Lawrence drive is green across the board,” Mitzner replied.

“Very well. Navigation, activate Lawrence drive.”

The same jump process Tehrani had been through thousands of times played out in front of her.

“Navigation, all ahead full,” Tehrani ordered once the wormhole formed.

A few seconds later, the ship flew through the beckoning maw of the artificial vortex and almost instantaneously exited the other side. The stars changed and came back into focus as the lights came up, and regular operation of the vessel’s systems resumed.

“Conn, TAO. Sensors online. No hostile contacts,” Bryan announced.

“Conn,