Bandits Engaged (Battlegroup Z Book 4) Daniel Gibbs (any book recommendations txt) đź“–
- Author: Daniel Gibbs
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The general’s words reverberated throughout the room and into Nolan’s soul. “I haven’t given up on victory yet.”
Saurez pressed his lips together. “I’m not saying you or anyone else should accept defeat. I’m saying a dose of realism coupled with a call to fight the good fight, no matter whether we win or lose, might rally the people.”
“Are you suggesting I’m too rosy in my predictions to the populace?” Nolan frowned and briefly considered the general’s suggestion. Have I been too focused on keeping spirits up and somehow led us all down the wrong path?
“Sir, my job isn’t to create policy. It’s to execute policy. More specifically, your policies and directives. But you asked, so yes—by celebrating our wins with outsized focus and not fully acknowledging defeat, it’s my belief the population at large is confused by mixed messages.”
Nolan took the stinging rebuke in stride. “Okay, General Saurez. Message received. I’ll review what the government and I have said regarding the war so far and consider your suggestion. This doesn’t change the demand of your commander-in-chief to liberate Eire.” He crossed his arms. “Where are we in planning?”
“At least six months away, sir.” Saurez focused his piercing gaze on Nolan. “Right now, we’re pinpointing the location on all significant League military encampments and military assets. The Coalition Intelligence Service is helping resistance cells gather across the planet. I might add they didn’t need much encouragement. From there, we will create an order of battle and task carrier battlegroups along with space action groups and enough Marines to win. League activity across the rest of our space must be at low-enough levels to allow us numerical superiority.”
“If our ships are so much better—”
“Lancaster’s Law, Mr. President. It holds, and we’ve proven it repeatedly: the more of an edge the attacker holds, the lower the casualties. We cannot absorb losses of our fleet carriers and battleships, sir.” Saurez gritted his teeth. “If you order me to proceed before we’re ready, I’ll be forced to resign.”
Nolan blinked. Saurez, while direct, had never made a threat like that before. “That won’t be necessary, General.”
Tension descended over the room like a suffocating fog. Karimi leaned forward. “Sir, I think what the general is trying to relay is we’re in a tight spot right now. Caution is advised.”
Hearing his chief of staff support the military’s position made Nolan quickly check his conscience. I can’t afford to drive away our best leaders. He held up his hand. “I hear both of you. Okay, no rash decisions. It doesn’t change my desire to retake Eire and liberate our citizens as fast as humanly possible.”
“I assure you, Mr. President, it’s my highest goal as well,” Saurez replied.
“When can I see your preliminary invasion plan?”
“Two weeks, sir.” Saurez pursed his lips. “Is that acceptable?”
“Yes.” Nolan nodded. “I’ve taken up enough of your time for today.”
Saurez stood. “Always glad to be of assistance, sir.” As he turned on his heel and exited through one of three doors to the office, the atmosphere seemed to get warmer.
“You were a bit harsh,” Karimi said when they were alone. “He’s just doing his job. You realize?”
“Perhaps.” Nolan leaned his head back. “Abdul, is Saurez right? Am I overly optimistic?”
Karimi chuckled and stretched his neck. “I don’t think so, but perhaps we could message the situation a bit closer to reality—dire.” He cleared his throat. “There’s something we should discuss.”
“The way you said that tells me I’m not going to like it.”
“Well, there’s considerable debate on what capital ships we should be building. Battleships or carriers. Each overarching class has its proponents and unique advantages.”
“And what aren’t I going to like about this?”
“Support is consolidating around shifting the fleet to be carrier centric. Our losses are such that the Joint Chiefs believe it would be far easier to replace pilots and small craft than entire ships. Especially large ones, like battleships.”
“What’s the average loss rate for fighter pilots?” The blood drained from Nolan’s face.
“For what period, sir?”
“One deployment. Three months.”
“Thirty to fifty percent, sir.”
“So we sacrifice a few to save the many?”
Karimi averted his gaze and stared out the window. “Sometimes that’s war, sir.”
“Not a decision I’m making today. Let me get back to work, Abdul. I need to review some briefs before we meet with the Matrinid ambassador in twenty minutes.”
“Of course, sir.” Karimi stood and exited quickly.
Nolan didn’t budge from the sofa, lost in thought over the last piece of information given to him. The previous year had brought compromises of his ideals in ways he would never have considered. This was one more. He believed all life was sacred and that he had a duty to protect everyone in the Terran Coalition. Here I sit, seriously contemplating offering up thousands of young men and women in the hope we won’t lose tens of thousands more. In times like these, Nolan felt most like a hypocritical politician.
2
CSV Zvika Greengold
High Loop Parking Orbit—Canaan
12 August 2434
A week had passed since Tehrani laid down the law to Major Hodges and his engineering teams. While sometimes it seemed he was dragging his feet, the reactor and most of their refit items were complete. The few outstanding issues left could be addressed as they flew back to the front—in wartime, Tehrani felt they didn’t have the luxury of waiting until every I was dotted and T crossed.
She’d spent her morning approving final transfer requests and fighting with CDFPER to ensure they had replacement enlisted personnel and officers. Never a fun task, it got harder after every engagement.
Her tablet buzzed. “Colonel, I’ve got a flash communication request from General Yukimura for you,” First Lieutenant Gopinath Singh said through it. He was the Zvika Greengold’s communications officer.
“Put him through immediately, Lieutenant,” Tehrani replied.
Major General Shingo Yukimura commanded the overall carrier division the Greengold was attached to. He was not a man one kept waiting.
An image of Yukimura’s face appeared on her tablet. His brow
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