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

Tehrani had recently decided to ensure she kept halal as much as possible.

Seated alone at the table reserved for her in the CO’s mess, she stared out into the void.

“Got room for another, skipper?” Wright asked as he strode up next to her. “As long as I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all.” Tehrani smiled at him. “Company would be nice.”

“Can you believe the rations we got? I don’t eat this well at home.” Wright slid into the seat across from her and propped his elbows on the table. “Don’t tell my wife that.”

Tehrani laughed. It felt so good, after all the trial and tribulation they’d been through. “Never fear, XO. Your secret is safe with me. Did you get the steak?”

“Is the pope Catholic?” Wright deadpanned. “Medium rare. Salt and pepper, with a hint of garlic. I’m hoping the chef gets it right.”

“Another successful mission.”

“Quite. I inspected the engineering spaces this afternoon and reviewed the refit plans with Captain MacIntosh before he shipped out back to special projects. We’re gonna miss him. You should’ve heard what the enlisted personnel think about you, skipper.”

“Good or bad?”

“Oh, excellent. They all seem to think you’re a lucky commander. Whatever happens, Colonel Tehrani will bail us out. The stunt you pulled, saving the pilots with the double jump, cemented an already-deserved impression that you never leave a man or woman behind.”

“Except when I must, to save us all.”

“It’s always the last option.”

Two stewards walked up carrying trays of food, which they expertly set down in front of Tehrani and Wright.

“Thank you, Corporal,” Tehrani said to the lead steward.

“Of course, ma’am. Let us know if you need anything else.” He turned and hurried away to get the next table’s plates.

“You want to say grace, skipper?”

“Of course.” Tehrani bowed her head and spoke in Arabic. “In the name of God and with God’s blessing.” She switched to English for Wright’s benefit. “Thank you, Allah, for this food and the hands that prepared it. Allow it to strengthen us and our cause. Praise be to God.”

“Amen.” Wright cut a piece of his steak off immediately and put it into his mouth. “Oh, yeah. Chef outdid himself.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” Tehrani dug into her mushrooms.

“It’s okay to enjoy some things in life. Even with all this going on around us.”

While meant as an encouragement, Wright's words brought up a deep-seated belief that as long as those under her command were suffering, she ought to as well. “I find that difficult under the circumstances.”

“Do you remember War Patrol?”

“The old holoshow from the Saurian War?”

“That one. It’s back on the air with new episodes. The master chief is setting up a viewing in the hangar tonight. You should come.”

Tehrani shook her head and laughed. “I hate War Patrol.”

“Why?” Wright exclaimed. “It’s got everything you could want in entertainment… drama, bad guys blowing up real good, and the CDF always wins.”

If only it were like that in the real world. “It’s too escapist for me. Besides, they get the little things wrong. Soldiers saluting without cover, enlisted personnel giving orders to officers, and don’t even get me started on the storylines of people in the same chain of command falling in love.” Tehrani made a face. “I just sounded like a real snob, didn’t I?”

“Yup, skipper.” Wright winked and chuckled. “Like I said, it’s plain fun. I think we could all use a break, and seeing some League ships blow up might be nice.”

“Is this your way of telling me I should come for the general morale and well-being of the crew?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

While he was right, something about war movies and shows had always bothered her. They tended to glorify fighting and the thrill of hunting down and killing the enemy. While there was something to the intensity of combat, most of the time, popular culture didn’t show what came next. Human beings weren’t designed to be okay with killing others, especially not in large numbers. It is said that God wrote his law on our hearts. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why killing was so difficult. “I’ll consider it,” she finally replied. “I wish the entertainment producers would show the cost of war.”

“Probably doesn’t drive ratings.”

Continuing thoughts of the commercialization of their shared suffering drove Tehrani’s mind in a negative direction. She decided it was best to move on, as nothing she could do would change what the Terran Coalition’s various holonetworks aired on their stations. “How is the refit progressing?”

“Good. We’ve got a bunch of civilian contractors crawling all over the engineering spaces and our hull, fixing stuff along with our snipes. She’ll be as good as new in a couple of weeks.”

Tehrani snorted. “Observe the civilians. Those money-grubbing contractors always figure out how to get the job extended or break things that aren’t broken to generate more repair tickets.”

“Cynical much, Colonel?” Wright replied.

“I’ve had my share of contractors after twenty years in the CDF.” She took another bite of steak. It was amazingly flavorful and tasted like a dream. “This is hitting the spot.”

“Did you hear the draft passed? Nearly unanimously in both chambers of Congress,” Wright said after he swallowed a helping of potato. “How about that? We’ll have millions of recruits in six months to fill up all these new ships they’ve been building.”

Between bites of steak, Tehrani ruminated on the effect those recruits would have. “Which we’ll have to train, and as soon as they start getting good at their jobs, poof, they leave.” She shook her head. “I’d prefer to keep the military as a professional, all-volunteer unit, myself.”

“You’re not the only person I’ve heard say that, skipper. I suppose the devil is in the details, right? The news article I read said it would be a four-year enlistment period. So not as bad as the old two-year draft from the Saurian Wars, eh?”

Tehrani snorted. “Have you ever noticed how each war we fight is the one that will end all future conflict?” She sighed and put her fork down. “Yet