by Daniel Gibbs
The liquid burned as it went down his throat, much like the sting of defeat. Yuen’s frowned as he turned to Yegor Voronin, the league admiral in command of Unity Station. “This business of the Terrans locating our forward operations posts so early in the campaign unnerves me, comrade.”
“Lenin curse them all,” Voronin replied darkly. “I’ve heard ripples of an undercurrent from the sailors that our mission is doomed and we should get out of Sagittarius before the League suffers a great defeat.” He glared at Yuen. “Did you hear what happened to Seville?”
Yuen shook his head. “No. I don’t keep up with the fleet-wide RUMINT.”
“I suppose it is individualistic in some way to focus on what happened to our… competitor.” Voronin gave a thin smile. “Seville was moved to an agricultural world. Where apparently he’ll have to eke out an existence as a farmer.” He chuckled. “Serves the pompous bastard right.”
“He’ll be back, one of these days,” Yuen observed. “You forget the admiral in charge of military operations is French. Give it time—Seville will be rehabilitated.”
Silence followed for a good thirty seconds as they both pondered Yuen’s words.
Finally, Voronin cleared his throat. “Perhaps. I don’t want to join him. We need some success to point to, besides taking a couple of border planets. Do you have any plans?”
“Of course I have plans.” Yuen allowed himself to smile. “We were picking off their outlying resource colonies quite effectively until the Terrans created a mobile reserve behind the battle lines. It has made things considerably difficult. To combat this, I’ve requested more ships from the Orion arm.”
“A pity we couldn’t deploy the home-defense fleet.”
If only. Yuen had argued until he was blue in the face that sending the standing home-defense fleet—something of a misnomer since it wasn’t based at Earth—would end the war in a matter of weeks. The Social and Public Safety Committee, which was the League’s de facto leadership, refused on the grounds that it would leave them defenseless.
“We must stick to the realm of the possible. When the new ships arrive, I plan to invade and take over a core system. One of their highly industrialized, built-up planets with more than a billion inhabitants.” Yuen gave an evil grin. “In one stroke, the entire Terran Coalition will be convinced we can invade and conquer them, at any time, on any planet they hide on.”
Voronin raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that. Then we can go home.”
Yuen pondered the sentiment. I have no desire to go home. He would rather stay on the Sagittarius side of the Milky Way and build something in the new frontier. Let the old men of the Social and Public Safety Committee and its ilk rule Orion. Here, we could be something more. “We shall see, comrade. We shall see.”
Justin paused outside of Mateus’s quarters. He held a bottle of whiskey, a gift from one of the senior chiefs on the flight deck. Since I don’t drink the stuff, might as well contribute to the host’s liquor supply. A day after his promotion and impromptu award ceremony, life had mostly returned to normal. The Zvika Greengold was stood down for a week, awaiting new pilots and a shipment of replacement small craft. That left plenty of paperwork, after-action reports, and evaluations of the Red Tails squadron pilots. Justin wasn’t sure which was worse: CDF paperwork or being shot at in space.
The hatch swung open a moment after Justin hit the buzzer. Mateus, Feldstein, and Adeoye were already seated at the poker table.
“I brought some more to drink,” he said, holding up the bottle. “Same spot?”
“Sim!” Mateus replied. She pronounced the word as “seem.”
Justin dropped the bottle onto the table and grabbed a cold beer in exchange. “Saved me a spot, I see.”
“Oh, we’re looking for revenge.” Feldstein smiled and wrinkled her nose. “No blackjack tonight. The game is seven-card stud.”
“Huh?” Justin raised an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”
“Poker,” Mateus replied as if the single word explained everything.
“Uh, right.”
Adeoye took a sip from a glass containing a dark-brown liquid. “Play the people, not the cards.” He stared at Mateus. “Specifically her.”
Mateus let out a laugh that bordered on a giggle. “Just wait until I convince you to play for real money,” she purred.
“Thankfully, that’s against regulations,” Feldstein replied. “If it weren’t, we’d all be broke and running around the ship in our underwear.”
The table rocked with laughter from all four of them.
“I don’t care how badly I lose tonight,” Justin said somberly. “I’m just thankful to be here and still alive.” He made eye contact with each person. “And thank you for having my back.”
Feldstein smiled. “Your example is inspiring.” She gestured to Mateus and Adeoye. “To all of us.”
“I don’t want to take the risk of getting a new squadron commander that might beat me at cards,” Mateus said, a lopsided grin on her face. “But seriously, quit running up the score on me.”
Again, Justin laughed. “Hey, it’s a target-rich environment out there.”
“I got to talk to Richard tonight,” Feldstein blurted out. She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “He’s seen as much action as we are. The battlegroup his ship is a part of halted the invasion of one of our border planets.” She smiled proudly.
“Which one? Do you know?”
Feldstein frowned. “Loose lips… Have you seen the posters up everywhere?” She rolled her eyes at Mateus.
“Hey, I was just asking. Don’t be so touchy-touchy.”
Justin reflected for a moment on the propaganda posters up everywhere, mostly on rotating digital displays. Some encouraged everyone not to waste food or energy, and others reminded soldiers not to discuss operational details. A few were pointedly directed at the League of Sol. An instant classic was a stylized drawing of Canaan with the debris of dozens of warships in front of it. The headline blared, Avenge Canaan! He wholeheartedly approved of the sentiment.
“Ladies, should we not deal the cards?” Adeoye asked.
“Harrumph,” Mateus replied and started tossing cards to each person. “Ante up.”
Chips landed in the middle of the table as each pilot put in a wager. Justin felt the stress melt away as they laughed and made fun of one another.
After several rounds of bets and additional cards dealt, Mateus cleared her throat. “And now, show your cards.” She grinned wickedly.
Feldstein dropped five cards in a row. “Straight.”
“Impressive,” Adeoye began. He revealed his cards. “But I’m afraid a flush beats a straight.”
Mateus cackled. “Oh, it’s so much fun playing against you boys.” With a flourish, she put down one card after another. “Straight flush.” Her eyes moved over to Justin. “Show ’em, cowboy.”
“Well, tell me how these look.” Justin laid his cards on the table. They consisted of three queens and two jokers.
“Oh, hell no.” Mateus stared, her eyes blazing. “Did you cheat? Did you bring extra cards?” Her voice rose, and the slight accent she had grew deeper.
“Uh, no. What are you so charged up about?”
“That’s five of a kind! It beats everything!” Mateus fumed. “Impossible.”
“Beginner’s luck?” Justin grinned. Everything’s going my way lately. The thought was immediately tempered by how close he’d come to death and the deaths of three more of the Greengold’s pilots. This is when Michelle would tell me not to tempt God. They’d spoken earlier in the evening, with Maggie at her side. He’d been able to say truthfully he was off the firing line, at least for a little while. It was amazing how much that small reprieve meant to both of them.
“Maybe Spencer here is a card shark in his spare time.” Feldstein pushed her chips toward him and made eye contact. “Is that it?”
“No, seriously. I’ve played all of three hands of poker in my life, including this one.�
� Justin shrugged. “Blackjack is my game.”
He sat back and frowned. “You know, I worry about when my luck finally runs out.” The words just fell out of his mouth without much thought.
Feldstein bit her lip. “We all do.” She glanced around at the rest of them. “Every time we strap in, there’s a pretty decent chance we’re not coming back. For me, it makes me consider every action and every word. I climb into that cockpit, having tried my best to treat everyone around me as well as I can and stay right with God.”
Even Mateus nodded.
“Until the day our number’s up, we’ve got each other.” Justin pursed his lips. “There’s no one else I’d rather fly with or have watching my six.” He put one of his palms down on the center of the table.
Mateus quickly put her hand on top of his. “No better friend.”
“No worse enemy,” Feldstein echoed and placed her palm on top of Mateus’s.
“No matter the odds,” Adeoye finished and set his hand at the top of the pile, completing the gesture.
All of them smiled warmly.
Mateus withdrew first, and a wicked grin came across her face. “Now, enough of that sappy stuff. Ante up!”
They all broke into laughter, and Justin pushed a small group of chips forward. The game continued into the wee hours of the morning.
Tomorrow? That will be another day. While the war would continue, so would their friendship—and that meant everything.
THE END
Battlegroup Z: Book 3 – Sol Strike: The Terran Coalition is down, but not out. Tasked with a daring plan to bring the war to the League, Justin Spencer and the CSV Zvika Greengold face their toughest trial yet: Attacking Earth itself.
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Also Available from Daniel Gibbs
Battlegroup Z
Book 1 - Weapons Free
Book 2 - Hostile Spike
Book 3 - Sol Strike
Echoes of War
Book 1 - Fight the Good Fight
Book 2 - Strong and Courageous
Book 3 - So Fight I
Book 4 - Gates of Hell
Book 5 - Keep the Faith
Book 6 - Run the Gauntlet
Book 7 - Finish the Fight
Breach of Faith
(With Gary T. Stevens)
Book 1 - Breach of Peace
Book 2 - Breach of Faith
Book 3 - Breach of Duty
Book 4 - Breach of Trust
Acknowledgments
As Hostile Spike represents my fifteenth published novel/novella, I am again left in awe that so many people I’ve never met would buy them. To begin these acknowledgments – thank you to all the readers who have done so, so far, and who (hopefully) will in the future.
I’d again like to thank my editor, Susie, for helping get this book over the finish line.
To everyone who helped bring these stories to life – thank you. The list remains too numerous to count, but you all know who you are.
As readers are used to by now I’m sure, I like to close with two points.
First is a thank you to the brave men and women of the US military whom I’ve had the pleasure of working with for so many years. Thank you for your continued service.
Finally, I give thanks to God for the words I’ve written and the life granted to write them in.
Until next time, Godspeed.
- Daniel Gibbs
