Bandits Engaged (Battlegroup Z Book 4) Daniel Gibbs (any book recommendations txt) 📖

“Aye, aye, ma’am. XO has the conn.”

It took hours for Marines to secure the last prisoners from the four remaining corvettes and the search-and-rescue birds to finish their work. Through it all, Justin and the rest of the Greengold’s fighters—the remaining ones, anyway—stood the watch. He tried to insist on being the last craft to land, but the CAG overruled him, as usual.

Justin sucked in a breath as his Ghost came to rest on the flight deck. He popped the canopy and peered over the side in time to see a crew chief run up with a portable ladder.

“Locked on, sir! Ready when you are.”

“Thanks, Chief.” Justin flashed a thumbs-up and climbed over the side. A few steps later, he was back on firm ground—or as close to firm ground as one could find in the void of space.

Major Whatley came to a halt on the next pad over. Aviation ratings quickly secured a carbon-copy portable ladder to the craft, and the CAG dropped to the deck.

Justin waved at him as he unsealed his flight helmet. “Nice flying out there, sir.”

“You seem to have taken some of those tricks I taught you to heart,” Whatley replied loudly as he walked over. “Good show yourself, Spencer.”

“Thank you, sir,” Justin replied quietly. Even though they’d won, the appalling losses by the Winged Lightning squadron along with a couple of pilots from both the Red Tails and the Black Hogs were enough to dampen his spirits.

“Walk with me,” Whatley said. He gestured toward the exit that led to the ready rooms.

Justin fell in beside him, fiddling with his flight helmet.

“Look, thanks for saving my ass out there, Spencer.” Whatley narrowed his eyes. “I, uh, thought I was a goner. Never in my life have I been more surprised or relieved.”

“All part of the service, sir. I’d do the same for any of our pilots.”

“That may be so, but today it was me.” Whatley put his arm around Justin’s shoulders. “I’ll never forget it.”

They strode through a hatch into a passageway leading farther into the Greengold. While a sea of humanity was in the hangar, the corridor was empty. Justin stretched his neck. “I’m going to go get cleaned up, sir. A shower is in order.”

Whatley held up his hand. “Before you go, Spencer.” He extended his arm. “I haven’t said this enough, but you’re one hell of a pilot. I sorely misjudged you at first, and I’m honored to serve side by side with you.”

Justin stared at the offered hand for a moment before shaking it. While the CAG had apologized before, it felt nice to hear it so plainly laid out. He nodded.

“So what’s bothering you? Normally, you’re bouncing off the damn walls.”

“The losses. It’s starting to get easy to forget who they were. At some point, the names stop registering. I know it’s wrong, but it’s easier than remembering. Then I wonder when my luck’s going to run out. Someday it will.”

“Two things. One… we never forget those lost. Even if it’s hard. Read the names. Remember the fallen. Two, you can’t focus on things outside of your control. We go out there, do the best job we can, and pray we come home. Every other minute, value like it’s the last one we’ve got.”

The words, while simple, made sense to Justin. He nodded. “Don’t forget beating the Leaguers, sir.”

“Maybe with these Godforsaken pirates out of the way, we can go back to showing those communist bastards the door,” Whatley growled. “Now, let’s get cleaned up. And don’t forget, Spencer, you still owe me an invite to that card game. I want in before I get transferred off this tub and you become the new CAG.”

It took Justin a moment to process the second half of the CAG’s comment. “Me… take over the wing, sir?”

“If I have anything to do with it,” Whatley called over his shoulder as he kept walking.

Justin was left standing there, stunned at the major’s pronouncement. Once he picked his jaw off the deck, Justin set about changing from his flight suit back into BDUs to head back to his cabin. Me, command the wing? That’d be something. Then he realized he’d be responsible for the lives of every pilot on the ship and not just the Red Tails. That thought was sobering and forced deep introspection as he walked the passageways of the vessel. I’ll do my duty. Always, no matter what, do my duty.

24

Freiderwelt Orbit

CSV Zvika Greengold

4 September 2434

The week since they’d decisively beaten the pirates felt like a blur. Tehrani had spent her days overseeing engineering work, as being laid up at a CDF forward outpost in orbit of Freiderwelt only contributed to a feeling of being out of the fight against the League. Another casket ceremony only added to the malaise. She’d submitted the after-action reports up the chain of command along with requests for additional escorts. We’re still down a destroyer and three frigates from our on-paper wartime strength.

Returning to the desk in her day cabin just off the passageway on deck one, meters from the bridge, Tehrani allowed herself to mentally relax for the first time all day. A brief thought of vidlinking Ibrahim disappeared when the intercom buzzed.

“Colonel, I have flash traffic for you,” Singh said through the speaker. “General Yukimura.”

“Put him through to my tablet, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

Major General Shingo Yukimura appeared on the screen, wearing a smile. “Colonel, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

Part of the flag officer’s charm was his disarming nature with subordinates. Tehrani found it endearing and off-putting at the same time. She’d come to expect a certain level of brusqueness from senior leadership, and Yukimura didn’t fit that mold. “Never, sir. Cleaning up my paperwork, thinking about another condolence letter, and preparing the Greengold to get back into the fight.”

“I wasn’t aware you’d been out of the fight.”

“Well, sir, I think I speak for nearly everyone in my