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

mug down and picked up a small qottab pastry. Filled with almonds and walnuts, they had been a staple in her youth and something that always helped her sleep.

“Couldn’t sleep, skipper?”

Tehrani whirled around, startled that someone besides her steward was in the mess at such a late hour. Wright stood there with a mug, wearing workout clothes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.” She gestured to the empty seat on the other side of the table. “Would you care to join me?”

“Don’t mind if I do, ma’am.” Wright flashed a grin and dropped into the unoccupied chair. “You’re up late.”

“So are you.”

Wright chuckled. “I thought some of that good ol’ decaf CDF battery acid they call coffee might help me nod off.” He winked. “The thought of adding something a touch stronger to it came to mind.”

“A couple of months ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about having a glass of wine to help me go to sleep.” Tehrani took another sip of tea.

“I take it that’s changed?”

“Yes.” She set the mug down. “I think I’d be tempting God to ask for His help in our fight while ignoring His word.” At his expression of bafflement, she continued, “Alcohol is haram in Islam. Forbidden.”

“Ah, I see. Not so much for us Christians.” Wright grinned. “Well, at least not my denomination.” He took a sip of coffee and made a face. “Ick. I don’t know why ever I expect it to taste better.” Setting the mug down, he continued, “I think I get what you’re saying, though, skipper. The League attack was a massive shock to my system. It’s made me reevaluate a lot of things in my life—my behavior and my relationships, and one of those is my relationship with God.”

“I struggle with feeling like a hypocrite,” Tehrani replied. She’d been wrestling with her feelings more and more. Being a Muslim was a cultural identity for her people—ninety percent of the Persian Republic shared the same religion—yet she’d never been devout.

“Would you mind sharing how?” Wright asked. “That is, as long as we’re talking as friends. Because if this is an official conversation, I don’t even know where to begin.”

Tehrani failed to stifle a laugh. It’s nice to have friends to rely on out here. I take Benjamin for granted sometimes. “Oh, no. This is so not official.” The mirth faded from her face. “I suppose the best way to explain it is I’ve felt like I have gone through life with a set of beliefs that were never tested. Allah was always an abstract concept. Like, yeah, the universe didn’t make itself. Serving out here in space has reinforced my belief that something made all of this…”

“But unlike those folks that say they have a two-way conversation with the Almighty, you feel as if you’re going through life alone, with only your brain and wits to aid you?”

She locked eyes with him. “Yes, exactly. I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“I get you, skipper. Because that’s how I always felt too.”

“And now?”

Wright swallowed. “Now I cling to the hope that God is involved in our daily lives, because after watching our pilots and soldiers be here one second and gone the next, I don’t think I’ll see my family again without His help. Not to mention the Terran Coalition surviving and all that. You’ve seen the same briefings I have. Hell, I bet yours have even more dire predictions.”

Her XO wasn’t wrong. The fleet commanding officer’s briefing Tehrani had attended a week after the initial attack on Canaan projected a minimum of five years on the defensive before an attack across the galactic arm into League space could be mounted. She had also been sworn to secrecy on the matter, as it had been revealed during a Top Secret/Special Compartmentalized Information codeword briefing.

“We’ve stood strong against aggressive enemies before,” Tehrani replied, choosing her words carefully. “And the CDF will do so again.” She paused. “You know it’ll get worse, right? There’s no sugarcoating that. At least I hope it gets worse. I fear the day I feel no emotion when I write a condolence letter to a soldier’s family. Even now, some seem almost generic.” Tears pricked her eyes.

“You must remember it’s not your fault,” Wright said, almost whispering. “I do too. We didn’t ask for this war, but we’ll fight it.” A fierce grin came to his face. “And those commies won’t know what hit ’em when we do get back to Earth. What I’m trying to say, skipper, is I think most of the people on this ship now cling to the things that matter. Family, friends, and for a lot of us, God. That doesn’t make you a hypocrite. I read the history books on the Saurian Wars. That’s how it was back then too.”

“I’m worried about tomorrow.”

“Me too.” Wright shook his head. “I don’t know what to make of Spencer volunteering to fly what’s probably a suicide mission.”

Why indeed? Several hours after Whatley had gotten her buy-in on the move, Tehrani still didn’t understand. “Hopefully, he’s not a glory hound.”

“Nah. I don’t see any hint of that in the man.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” Tehrani took another sip from her mug. “Hmmm. I’ve about exhausted my tea.”

“Yeah, probably about time to hit our racks.” Wright grinned and finished his coffee in one last gulp. “Get some rest, skipper. We’re all going to need you at the top of your game tomorrow.”

“The same can be said for you.” Tehrani narrowed her eyes. “So go back to your stateroom and go to bed too.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Wright stood and turned to go. “Good night, ma’am,” he called over his shoulder. “Godspeed.”

“Godspeed to you, too, XO. Sleep well.” Tehrani watched him leave before standing. She put the empty container in the secured bin for eating utensils and plates.

The walk back to her stateroom wasn’t that far, but it felt like a kilometer. Around and around, her mind went, as she wondered if she’d make the right choice in accepting