Hostile Spike (Battlegroup Z Book 2) Daniel Gibbs (classic book list txt) 📖

and so will we. Navigation, intercept course, Master Four.” Her heart ached for the loss of life. Likely none of the more than two hundred soldiers who’d called the Glasgow home had escaped.

“You sure about this, skipper?” Wright asked quietly.

“If you’ve got a better idea, now’s the time.”

Silence was the only reply.

10

The void of space was unlike anything Justin had ever experienced. In some ways, it was stunning. In others, it was downright terrifying. He’d read accounts of men and women being stuck in the void for extended periods, losing their minds and being unable to set foot on a spacecraft again. That only happened after multiple hours of exposure, though.

The short-range communication system in his flight suit linked itself to the search-and-rescue network carried by all CDF vessels and provided his HUD a near-real-time display of the battle, which wasn’t going well. Another bomber had been lost while attempting to destroy the heavy cruiser, and two more freighters were heavily damaged. One was a total write-off, whose crew had abandoned it, but the other one still limped along.

There’s no way they can put a SAR bird out here to rescue me. That realization went through Justin like a knife, quickly followed by the fear of either dying or, worse, being captured by the League. No one knew what they did to prisoners of war, but if it was anything like how the World Society back on Earth had treated allied POWs during the Third World War, it would be a hellacious experience.

Paralyzed by fear, Justin floated through space. Blue neutron beams glowed against the faceplate of his helmet, matched by blobs of red plasma. His hands shook as he tried to rotate in the zero-G environment. The sensation was almost like swimming deep underwater. He thought of Michelle and Maggie and how much he would like to hold them both one last time.

Justin hadn’t mentally prepared for floating in space. Like every other CDF pilot, he’d taken basic escape, evasion, and survival training. But tumbling through the void with little hope of rescue in a doomed battle wasn’t part of it. He tried to stay positive. A voice in the back of his head suggested prayer. To what? The imaginary man in the sky?

Staring death in the face was one way to force questions about one’s beliefs. What do you have to lose? If there’s no one up there, it doesn’t matter. If there is, maybe He’ll help you.

Now I’m debating myself. Great. I suppose void sickness is setting in sooner than expected.

Justin stared at the beauty of the stars and far-off nebula. Its vivid colors provided a striking backdrop to the battle. What do I have to lose? Nothing, I suppose. He tried to remember his childhood, when his mother would make him pray on his knees before bedtime. “Um, God, if you’re up there,” he began, “I’m in a terrible fix here. I just want to get back to my wife and daughter. So if you can help, I’d, uh, appreciate it. Please. Uh, amen.”

Justin felt somewhat silly, pondering his prayer. Because if God is up there, why would He give me the time of day when I’ve ignored Him most of my life?

Then Justin noticed he was headed straight toward the League heavy cruiser. His first thought was that maybe it had seen him and was coming to capture an enemy pilot before the CDF could rescue him. No, that’s preposterous. But it got the wheels of his mind moving. If I time it just right, I could use my suit's integrated thrusters to latch on to that vessel’s hull. Or even better, maybe I could get inside its hangar bay.

Closer and closer, the Rand-class heavy cruiser came. It seemed massive—larger than anything he’d seen in his life. He used short bursts from the survival suit’s integrated thrusters to nudge his course up relative to the beast of a ship. The hull was nearly entirely painted black. The only deviations were glowing red strips and light emanating from what Justin assumed were windows. Squinting, he tried to make out the launch bay. A force field covering a portion of the middle hull seemed like the best bet.

I only get one shot at this. For a moment, Justin almost backtracked and veered off, because if he failed, death was the probable outcome. Or imprisonment for life. Or I die, if the CDF blows the ship up. In the end, he had no good options, and the only one that had any possibility of him seeing his family again was the harebrained idea to steal an enemy fighter and fly back to the Zvika Greengold.

The force field and the launch bay behind it rushed toward Justin. Pure fear infected every cell in his body, and he almost peed in his suit. The collision alarm blared in his helmet, and the suit automatically applied maximum thrust out of its limited maneuvering jets. His speed slowed, but still, he expected to splatter against the force field as he made contact with it. Please let this thing work like a Terran Coalition ship.

“Justin, can you hear me?”

Elation filled him at the sound of Feldstein’s voice. It was like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man. “I read you loud and clear.” Justin cracked a grin, especially at the use of his first name.

“We’ve been monitoring your signal. You’re way too close to that League cruiser. What are you doing?” She sounded worried.

“I’ve got an idea.”

“What?”

“Look, if you see one of those fighters of theirs behaving erratically or maybe being shot at, don’t let them shoot me down, okay?”

A pregnant pause came over the commlink. “Justin Spencer, are you seriously telling me you plan to steal a League fighter? Have you gone insane?”

“It’s the best play I’ve got. I’ve no interest in being a POW for the rest of my life.”

Feldstein choked out, “Be careful. Please.”

The intensity of emotion from her surprised Justin. They were friends, but he hadn’t realized he