Sol Strike (Battlegroup Z Book 3) by Daniel Gibbs (book recommendations for young adults TXT) 📕

“Weapons hold,” Whatley replied.

“Even if attacked?”

Whatley switched off the holoprojector and gripped the sides of the lectern, leaning over it. “Ladies and gentlemen, let me make something clear to you all. If, during this mission, you’re discovered and forced to engage, you failed. Instantly. Not only that, but any hope we have of saving the Zvika Greengold, successfully attacking Earth, or getting home is gone. Are we clear?”

Justin shifted uncomfortably. Whatley’s words were spot on—but a gnawing disturbance grew in his gut. The idea of avoiding all enemy contact and being stealthy wasn’t something fighter pilots were used to. “Clear, sir.”

“Good. Get suited up and be ready for the vacuum in thirty minutes. Godspeed, pilots.”

As everyone else made a mad dash for the door, Justin touched Feldstein on the shoulder. “I want you on my wing.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “I’m not much for this stealth crap. Give me some missiles and point me toward the enemy any day.”

“Right there with you, Lieutenant.” Justin flashed a grin. “I’ll see you in a few.” As he was about to clear the hatch, Whatley’s hand latched onto his shoulder.

“Captain, a word,” the CAG ground out.

“Of course, sir.”

“No heroics out there. Stay out of sight, get sensor scans, and if there’s a bunch of traffic or no visible mining stations, move on.”

Justin nodded. “I understand, sir.”

Whatley snorted and smirked. “Son, I was your age once, pawing the vacuum and loving every minute of it. You keep those combat instincts in check. Clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

“Good hunting, in that case.”

“You, too, sir. In the event the Leaguers find us.”

“If the Leaguers find us, they’ll need the good luck to survive me shooting them all down.” Whatley cracked a grin as he spoke.

With a chuckle, Justin turned and walked out of the hatch. While the CAG’s good spirits were welcome, the League discovering them in the state the ship was currently in would be a death sentence. Or worse—imprisonment as a POW for who knows how long. Probably torture. My job is to succeed so we don’t have to face that fate.

It didn’t take Justin long to slide into his flight suit, check the seals of the boots, gloves, and helmet, and head into the hangar bay.

Neat lines of SFS-4 Ghost fighters were arrayed out on the deck. Justin had never seen more small craft on the Zvika Greengold than were present since they’d left New Washington—over seventy fighters and bombers, with the majority being the stealth recon type. Even though he’d flown the thing for hundreds of hours in simulations and several hands-on flights in space, it still felt foreign to him. I miss my Sabre. Justin stared longingly at the space-superiority fighter, shoved off to the side of the hangar. Well, I’ll be back to it soon enough.

After a few minutes of walking, he arrived at the pad for his Ghost—position three on the deck. His crew chief stood next to a small portable ladder.

“Ready, sir?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, Chief.”

The man gestured to the ladder. “Prepped and good to go.”

Justin cracked a grin and slid his helmet on. “Let’s get this show on the road.” He swung one leg onto the first rung and climbed into the cockpit. A few moments later, he dropped into the pilot’s seat and secured the safety restraints. The canopy slid down automatically, sealing him in. Justin pulled up his HUD and switched to a squadron-readiness view. Most of his pilots were already showing green—ready to launch—and as he stared at the screen, the rest signaled readiness.

“CAG, this is Alpha One. Red Tails are at ready five.”

Colonel Tehrani’s voice cut into Justin’s commlink. “Captain Spencer, can you hear me?”

Okay, that’s out of the ordinary. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I wanted to wish you good luck and Godspeed. Find us some fuel so we can get home.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Justin replied, forcing confidence into his voice.

“Tehrani out.”

Justin cued his commlink to the channel used by the air boss, who had overall control of all flight operations within the hangar. “Boss, this is Red Tails commander, requesting launch permission.”

“Permission granted, Alpha One. All on-deck fighters are clear to depart.”

“Acknowledged.” Justin pushed the throttle forward, increasing his forward thrust to ten percent, and exited the Zvika Greengold.

It took a few minutes for both squadrons to get into space, during which he loitered around the carrier, overseeing the launch. The professionalism and practiced execution of every pilot was an inspiring sight. Only a few months earlier, a mass launch would’ve been a haphazard affair, as reservists who were used to flying a few hours a month had made a mess out of the evolution. They’d become a well-oiled machine, even in the unfamiliar Ghosts. Another craft closed on him and settled a few meters off Justin’s port wing.

“Alpha Two assuming wingman position,” Feldstein said, her voice crackling through the commlink. “Ready to see the sights?”

“Veni, Vidi, Fugi,” Justin replied with a loud laugh.

“Huh?”

“Oh, it’s an old inside joke. A friend of mine and I used to say that in college. It’s Latin that translates to ‘I came, I saw, I fled.’”

“You took Latin?” Feldstein asked with mirth in her voice.

“No. He did.”

Justin double-checked the flight computer and the first set of Lawrence drive coordinates. They appeared correct, and the system was fully charged. “Ready for the jump?”

“Everything is green over here.”

“Good.” Justin flipped up a toggle cover and cued his commlink to the squadron command channel. “Alpha One to all flight elements. You’re cleared to spin up your Lawrence drives.”

Acknowledgments of the order filtered in, and Justin focused on executing his first flight evolution inside League of Sol territory. He sucked in a deep breath and pressed the button to initiate wormhole formation. “Alpha Two, you are cleared to commit.”

Directly in front of Justin’s fighter, a small disturbance formed. At first, it was without form, almost resembling a tiny nebula or a gas cloud. After a few more seconds, the familiar shape of an artificial wormhole appeared. Its kaleidoscope of colors, including blue, green, red,