Hostile Spike (Battlegroup Z Book 2) by Daniel Gibbs

Author:Daniel Gibbs [Gibbs, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2021-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

12

Unlike the pilots’ mess, the colonel’s table in the senior officers’ mess was a far more formal affair. He’d received a notification from her steward earlier in the evening to wear a khaki service uniform along with another request for dietary restrictions. While Justin briefly considered pranking them by citing an obscure set of religious guidelines, he decided it wasn’t a good idea to punk the commanding officer.

Justin grinned at the thought as he fit the ribbon bar onto his freshly pressed uniform and checked the spacing one more time in the mirror. Pilot wings, check. Name tag, check. Rank insignia, check. Memories of preparing for uniform inspection in flight school flooded into his mind. It had been virtually impossible to pass that particular inspection, and half the day afterward was spent doing hardcore physical training. I suppose that was the point. They wanted to see if we were tough enough to endure.

With everything set, he checked himself a final time and headed out into the passageway for a roughly ten-minute walk.

Arriving at his destination a few minutes early, Justin stared at the hatch. It looked like practically every other hatch on the ship, but the nameplate read Senior Officers Mess, CSV Zvika Greengold.

He cleared his throat. Oh, come on. They all put their pants on the same way I do. One leg at a time. No reason to be nervous. Forcing the butterflies in his stomach down, he pushed the hatch open and walked through.

“Lieutenant Spencer?” someone immediately to his right asked.

“The one and only.”

The voice belonged to a mess steward who wore a black dress uniform. “Colonel Tehrani has not yet arrived. Your seat at her table is marked.”

“Thank you.”

For a moment, Justin took in the room, which was considerably more ostentatious than he was used to. Plaques celebrating the Zvika Greengold lined the walls along with shadowbox displays of famous officers who’d served on her. One was dedicated to Captain Zvika Greengold himself. He looked at the exhibition’s first few lines, which related the history of Captain Greengold’s brave stand in an old war back on Earth. One tank versus hundreds of others. That’s bravery right there. The exhibit was similar to those in the Red Tails ready room, detailing the storied history of the squadron and General Benjamin Davis, Jr.

A small printed white sign was marked 1LT Justin Spencer along the side of the table, and he sat in the corresponding chair.

Being the first person there had its advantages—namely avoiding the spotlight for as long as possible. The second person in the door was of average height but had exceptionally broad shoulders and was wearing a Terran Coalition Marine Corps dress uniform.

I have to admit Marines look sharp. Justin grinned. He’d never had a desire to be a Marine. Noticing the new arrival’s rank insignia was that of a major, he stood.

“Lieutenant Spencer,” the Marine said, “good to meet you.” A grin spread across his face. “We’ve heard about your exploits all the way down in TCMC country.

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