Fight the Good Fight
Fight the Good Fight
Echoes of War Book One
Daniel Gibbs
Fight the Good Fight by Daniel Gibbs
Copyright © 2018-2019 by Daniel Gibbs
Visit Daniel Gibb’s website at
www.danielgibbsauthor.net
Cover by Jeff Brown Graphics—www.jeffbrowngraphics.com
Additional Illustrations by Joel Steudler—www.joelsteudler.com
Editing by Edits by V and Beth at BZhercules.com
3D Art by Benoit Leonard
This book is a work of fiction, the characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. For permissions please contact info@eotp.net.
Contents
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Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
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Acknowledgments
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FREE BOOK: Read the story of Levi Cohen and his heroic fight at the first battle of Canaan in Echoes of War: Stand Firm.
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Echoes of War
Book 1 - Fight the Good Fight
Book 2 - Strong and Courageous
Book 3 - So Fight I
Book 4 - Gates of Hell
Book 5 - Keep the Faith
Breach of Faith
(With Gary T. Stevens)
Book 1 - Breach of Peace
Foreword
Greetings, military science-fiction reader! I’m David VanDyke, Dragon and Hugo awards finalist and bestselling author or co-author of several hard-hitting and popular sci-fi adventure series—notably the Plague Wars series, the Stellar Conquest series, the Galactic Liberation series and B.V. Larson’s million-selling Star Force series.
I originally ran across Daniel Gibbs on internet forums where independent (“indie”) author-publishers like us meet to chat and exchange information and help each other in our tough business of trying to make a living writing great stories for you readers. He reached out to me for mentorship in bringing his vision of an explicitly Jewish military sci-fi hero—and the struggling, ideology-filled universe around him—to life on the page.
Daniel turned out to be a talented, teachable, hardworking guy, everything a good author should be—thoughtful, dedicated to improving his craft and his storytelling—and most importantly, entertaining to read.
Because that’s what matters, am I right? As readers we want to be entertained with a rollicking great tale of action, combat, doubt, resolution, sacrifice, love and honor that reminds us all of what it is to be frail, fallible, struggling human beings in the ugly, glorious, miserable and terrifying landscape of war.
For those of us who’ve been there in the midst of that cauldron, and whose service is behind us—for war’s horrors most often fall upon the young—it’s wonderful to fictionalize our experiences, always in the hope that our efforts in the past, and our stories in the present, will mean nobody else has to go to war in the future.
Daniel Gibbs is one of those guys.
Unfortunately, the end of war is a vain, if noble, hope. History shows us there will always be war, and as long as there is war, there will be books about war. In this case, we write about what war might look like in the future, for by understanding a thing, by exploring it in fiction, we seek to mitigate it as well as entertain.
I think it was H.G. Wells (though I confess I couldn’t confirm the quote anywhere) who said, upon publishing his tabletop wargame rules Little Wars, “If all our wars were little ones, we might not need big ones.” This may be a paraphrase of one quote I was able to confirm: “How much better is this amiable miniature than the Real Thing!”
Military sci-fi falls into that category—much more welcome between the pages of a book than on our streets and in our homes—or in our honorable service members’ hearts and minds.
In this book, Fight the Good Fight, the first book Daniel Gibbs wrote—much amended and pored-over and rewritten as he developed his craft—you’ll find all of those things I listed above: the highs and the lows, the horrors and the glories, as Corporal David Cohen rises from enlisted man to starship captain. You’ll find more of his adventures in the rest of the Echoes of War series, which will be published over the course of this Year of Our Lord 2019.
David VanDyke
Major, USAF, Retired
Tucson, Arizona
1
CSV Artemis
Patrol Sector 14A – Terran Coalition / League of Sol Active Combat Zone
5 February 2544 (Old Earth Calendar)
Corporal David Cohen glanced at a clock showing Coalition Mean Time, or CMT, the standard metric for all CDF ships. It’s time for morning prayers…but there’s no way I can make it to the shul and still keep on schedule for our repairs. An Orthodox Jew, he was heartsick when he couldn’t make it to prayers.
Taking a moment before heading to his post, David stood and prayed quietly. “May the Lord bless you and protect you. May the Lord shine His countenance for you and be gracious to you. May the Lord lift up His favor upon you and grant you peace.” The prayer was from the Book of Numbers, in the Torah. I hope, someday, we can have peace. But the ship isn’t going to repair itself.
David hefted his work belt and made sure it was strapped correctly around his waist. Fit, tall and six months out of boot camp, he’d kept his physical condition with a daily exercise regimen despite the challenges of life in the fleet. His ship, the Coalition Star Vessel Artemis, was a small frigate specializing in point defense, assigned to space battle group centered around a Saratoga-class fleet carrier engaged in combat operations against their enemies, the League of Sol.
Making good time moving about the ship,
David walked the passageways like a practiced professional, even after only a few months of being stationed in the fleet. Given a battlefield promotion to corporal, his duties now consisted of leading a damage control team during and after battle. This shift, they were working on a section of the ship that had experienced a total loss of pressure and significant battle damage in their last engagement. Today’s task was to replace piping and wiring bundles throughout the damaged bulkheads and overhead after the hull patching had been completed the day before.
A young private from New Washington, Everard Beckett, groused as he pulled another length of burnt cabling out of the wall. “Corporal, can’t we just patch this stuff on the surface and wait for an overhaul to make it look pretty?”
David narrowed his eyes as he pushed through another bundle of wire. “While we’re at it, why don’t we just leave the holes in the side of the ship? I mean, we’ve been disabled four times in the last three weeks. Wouldn’t want to do it right, so the ship is at maximum combat effectiveness for the next time we fight the League, would we?”
Private Rachel Munford laughed. “There we go, ladies and gentlemen. Another attempt at cutting corners smacked down by our esteemed corporal.”
David snorted as he pulled open another wiring tray. “I don’t know why I bother with you, Beckett. You’ll be someone else’s problem in a couple of years anyway.”
“Oh yeah, we know you want to get out, Corp,” Beckett said. “If I had a credit for every time you told us about your big plans to be a rabbi, I could buy one of these boats and go into business for myself privateering League ships.”
“Are you daft, Beckett? The League doesn’t have any merchant ships on this side of the galactic arm for us to privateer,” Munford said. “I’m just glad we’re out of the front lines for a few days while we get repaired. Being able to relax and actually take a shower is nice. Sometimes it really is the little things in life.”
“How about less jawing and more pulling cables so we can still get to the mess while hot food is being served?” David snapped.
“Aye aye, Corporal!” Beckett said, redoubling his efforts to pull the burnt cable out of its housing.
Over the next hour, the team worked their way through the passageway, and David noted with satisfaction they were far closer to restoring the cabling to a functional state.
Just as he was going to order a break for chow, the alert klaxon sounded. Without needing an order, the team picked up tools and loose materials. The commanding officer’s voice suddenly boomed across the ship wide intercom known as 1MC. “Attention all hands. Prepare to repel boarders. I say again, prepare to repel boarders!”
David instantly recognized the voice of Major Benson Pipes and his mind leaped into overdrive.
“Beckett, Munford, weapons locker… now.”
A look of fear crossed Beckett’s face. “Uh, Corporal, we’re not Marines. Shouldn’t we fall back to a protected space?”
In truth, David was terrified, not only of the enemy but also for the lives of those under his command. He resolved not to show it and press on. “No. We can’t chicken out here, Beckett. We’ve got to bottle up any hostiles until our Marines can get here and save us. Let’s go!”
Leading the team to the nearest weapons locker, David entered his access code and swung the door open. He quickly passed out armored vests to each, followed by particle beam sidearms, battle rifles, and magazines. “Ugh. Only one pulse grenade. I guess the sergeant-at-arms didn’t restock this one properly.” He took the grenade for himself.
Beckett threw an armored vest over his head, securing the straps around his chest. “Only thing worse than corporals are sergeants. Present company excluded, of course.”
“Of course,” David said, as he inserted a magazine into his battle rifle while the others followed suit.
Munford racked the action on her own battle rifle. “Ever wonder how much razzing Major Pipes got in boot camp? With a name like that…”
“Pipes, like water pipes,” Becket said, doing a passible impersonation of the COs voice.
“I didn’t realize I ordered you to give us a comedy routine, Beckett. You’re welcome to share that bit of knowledge with the major after we’re done here. Now stow it.”
A loud thud nearly knocked them from their feet. “They’ll breach the hull momentarily,” David said, steadying himself by holding onto the bulkhead. Working hard to ignore the panic building within, he tried to focus on his next action. Drill Instructor Salazar always said to solve one problem at a time.
“Let’s double back one passageway over.” Seeing bafflement in the others’ eyes, he explained, “It’s a choke point. They’ll have to push through that area to get to anything of importance. We’ll hold there until the Marines arrive.”
“Or we all get killed,” Beckett said, doubt in his voice.
Ignoring Beckett’s doubt, David led them to a junction between two passageways, an excellent defensive position. “Beckett, take the right.” He tried to convince himself the incoming League troops were nowhere near as tough as his drill instructor. If I survived Salazar, I can survive anything. “Munford, take the left.”
David crouched, shielding his body with the bulkhead and pointing the battle rifle down the corridor. “Remember, they’ll use cannon fodder to wear us down. Aim well, fire short bursts, and remember that the real challenge is what comes after them.”
“Isn’t anyone with a gun that’s trying to kill us a challenge, Corporal?” Munford said.
“Valid point. You know what I mean, though. They always hit us with green troops and reeducated prisoners first. We can do this, team.”
After holding their position for what seemed like an eternity, the first League troops appeared from behind another bulkhead. David took aim and squeezed the trigger of his rifle, just like he had been taught in basic training. Nothing happened. He froze as the two Leaguers brought their own rifles up and sent a volley of shots in his direction. The bullets smacked the walls of the corridor and the bulkheads, bouncing off the hardened alloy in a shower of sparks.
David cleared the mental block in his mind like the chamber of his rifle. He ducked back to cover as Beckett and Munford returned fire. While Munford opened up on full automatic with “pray and spray” tactics, Beckett carefully sighted down his weapon and squeezed the trigger once, putting a burst into the center mass of an onrushing enemy. As that soldier fell, the one behind tripped over the body, losing his balance and dropping the rifle he carried.
Quickly checking his weapon, David realized he hadn’t chambered a round. I can’t believe I made that kind of rookie mistake. He slid the action back on his weapon and heard the satisfying click of a bullet sliding in. Leaning out, he brought the rifle up and aimed at the remaining soldier, who was fumbling with a sidearm and squeezed the trigger. All three rounds from the burst hit the Leaguer center mass, and he flopped backward, landing on top of his fellow.
As the sound of gunfire subsided, David found himself stunned by the brutality of combat and the results of his actions. He’d never fired a weapon in anger before, let alone killed anyone. It took a moment to snap himself out of his funk and hit the communications panel on the wall. “This is damage control team fifteen, deck five, passageway 3B. We have engaged League boarders. Request Marine backup.”
“We should fall back, Corporal!” Beckett shouted, his voice breaking.
“Get it together, Private!” David barked, trying to project confidence though he felt anything but. “If we don’t hold here, the League gets full run of deck five. You know what that means!”
“They could take the engine room and jump the ship out,” Munford said.
“Exactly. I’m not interested in being a League POW the rest of my life. If they hold true to form, next we’ll be rushed by a human wave.”
“First guy up has a gun, second holds the ammo and the third carries on once we finish killing the front of the line?” Beckett said with a trace of mirth.
&
nbsp; “That’s a myth.”
“Corporal, they’re coming,” Munford said, urgency in her voice breaking through the calm.
Incoming fire splattered against the bulkhead, pinging off the hard metal. David felt a searing pain on his leg and looked down, seeing red spreading out from a cut in his uniform pants. With the rush of adrenaline coursing through his body from the battle, the pain only lasted for a few moments.
“Return fire!” David shouted, leaning out and firing short bursts. He hit two more enemy soldiers, but this time, numerous other Leaguers followed them and charged towards his small squad. They advanced without any real tactics, moving forward in a human wave, one with extremely lethal weapons.
David pulled out the pulse grenade on his belt. I’ve only got one pulse grenade. They’ll overrun us if I don’t use it, so I better make it count. But we need more than just a grenade blast right now. He looked back into the junction, desperately searching for any advantage, anything they could use. Through the fog of the battle, his mind cleared and brought him an idea. The environmental controls!