Макс Глебов – Vengeance Weapon (страница 8)

It was in grim silence that we watched the outcome of the battle. The exchange of a Black Dragon and two dozen other ships for one enemy orbital fortress looked depressing. We could console ourselves with the fact that we were cautious enough not to try to approach the planet with the whole fleet.

“The second search team found the enemy transport ring,” Yoon Gao reported over the hypercomms, and a new marker flashed on the tactical projection.

The toads had positioned a hypergate in the asteroid belt beyond the orbit of the seventh planet. They had not evacuated the portal personnel and seemed seriously intent on protecting such a valuable facility, now that the enemy had discovered it.

But here the situation turned out to be quite different. The hyperportal of toads was guarded in an unprecedented way for a autonomous space structure. Ten asteroids, put into circular orbits, orbited slowly around it. The enemy had turned them into a kind of orbital fortress, and I feared that it was not modern «frogs» who did this, but their distant ancestors back when the portal was built, so we could expect about the same kind of nastiness from these defenses that we already had the dubious pleasure of encountering near the fourth planet. And besides, three cruisers covered the hypergate, though, judging by some of the details of their construction, they were modern ships, far inferior to those built by the toads’ ancestors.

“The asteroids are close enough to each other, most likely, the protective field will be unified here, too,” Admiral Fulton suggested, “but, by all appearances, our fleet is quite capable of overcoming this defense.”

I agreed with the Chief of Staff in his assessment of the situation, but we were all getting very tired of losses. This endless war has taken the lives of the best, the most energetic and dedicated people and our allies, and lately I have seen it as my primary goal to stop this massacre. Yes, wars are not won without casualties, but the main question is what the commander sees as his main goal – a victory or saving the lives of his soldiers. Almost always this choice results in a compromise, but each time the compromise is left to the conscience of the commander ordering the attack.

“Commander Klitch,” I called the commander of the remaining aircraft carriers, “Are your ships capable to move automatically to the torpedo launching range, fire a salvo, and then proceed to a predetermined rendezvous point?”

“Yes, Commander, Sir, we can program our computers to perform such a task,” replied the quarg with a doubt in his voice, “but in this case the ships will not be able to react to changes in the combat situation and will carry out the order regardless of the actions of the enemy. It is impossible to control them remotely, this was done on purpose to prevent the enemy Electronic Warfare systems from intercepting the control in combat.”

“Commander Klitch, in the next five minutes you will receive the attack vector, as well as the coordinates of the torpedo launching point and the assembly point. Leave two aircraft carriers in reserve and order the crews of the others to prepare to evacuate to your ships that participated in the previous attack. They don’t have any torpedoes left anyway, so they’ll work as transports.”

“Yes, Admiral, Sir,” the quarg did not object or ask any clarifying questions. Apparently, the tradition of unquestioning obedience to a commander was deeply ingrained in his society. But I didn’t abuse it and explained my order.

“The enemy’s mobile forces are extremely weak. The toads will not be able to mount an active defense and do anything that might make it necessary to change the original order. As the previous attack has shown, your aircraft carriers, Commander Klitch, will be priority targets for the enemy’s new weapons in the coming battle. I see no point in sending your crews to certain death. It’s better to risk just the ships, even if we lose them all.”

I paused for a moment, giving the quarg a chance to respond, but Klitch only tilted his head slightly, and I continued with my mission statement to the fleet.

I ordered 56 of the 70 «Invisibles» not yet involved in the battle, to have their crews removed, and to prepare to attack in automatic mode, along with 17 quarg aircraft carriers. I divided the rest of the fleet into two equal groups. In the initial phase of the operation, they were to move with the ships left without crews, but long before they reached the torpedo launching line both groups were instructed to perform a flank maneuver in the ecliptic plane and simulate an attack on the toads’ portal from opposite sides. Except that I forbade them to go closer than two torpedo launch distances, at least until the results of the main torpedo strike are clear.

When planning the attack, we had to put too many unknowns into the calculations. Not only did we not know the physical principles upon which the enemy’s previously unknown weapons were based, we had no idea how long it would take to recharge before it could fire another salvo. But combat reconnaissance is designed precisely to get the missing information directly in combat, forcing the enemy to reveal their defense system and fire capabilities.

Half an hour later, during which time the disposition had not changed at all, I gave an order to begin the attack. The «Invisibles», rearranged in battle order, moved in an extended line ahead of our squadron. The quarg aircraft carriers stayed behind for now, as I wanted to provoke the toads to spend the charge of their ancient weapons on the «Invisibles» in order to give the aircraft carriers a chance to shoot off in peace. The death of even one of these huge ships would significantly reduce the density of our salvo.

“Squadron separation point,” Fulton reported, looking at the tactical projection.

The ships changed course, and two groups of six Black Dragons, five destroyers, seven «Invisibles» and one aircraft carrier split apart, beginning to outflank the enemy on both sides, and 17 aircraft carriers and 56 «Invisibles» continued to move directly at the enemy, who had prepared to defend.

The toads were faced with a difficult choice. The enemy certainly could not destroy with their monstrous cannons all the ships going into a frontal attack before they launched their torpedoes. 56 ‘Invisibles’ were carrying nearly 3,500 torpedoes, and to let them fire off in peace would be a very reckless act for the enemy, with very unpleasant consequences. But if the toads started firing at them and thereby reducing the density of the first salvo, then it would be unclear with what to meet even more dangerous quarg aircraft carriers later, which were capable of unleashing a several times more massive wave of torpedoes on the heads of the portal defenders.

I couldn’t call what the toad commander did anything other than a gesture of despair. Seeing that the formation of «Invisibles» and aircraft carriers was approaching his fortifications without artillery ships escorting them, the enemy commander ordered his three cruisers to come out to meet them. However, this decision was somewhat belated. While our fleet moved in a single formation, the toads hesitated to use their ships for a counterattack, and when the flank groups finally separated, the «Invisibles» were not so far from the torpedo launching line.

Nevertheless, the toads’ cruisers played their part, and they managed to do even more than they could according my estimation. 14 of our ships disappeared in the brightest flashes of explosions of their own unspent ammunition. The programs embedded in the «Invisibles» computers had some flexibility, and in addition to hitting the main targets the computer could spend up to ten percent of the ammunition, attacking any enemy ships within its range. Not only that, it was obliged to attack any such target, which is what happened when the toads’ ships appeared. But torpedoes move much slower in space than projectiles, and the toads managed to fire several volleys before they were hit by the dense wave of lethal messengers that almost instantly knocked down their protective fields and turned their ships into melted wreckage.

And after that, the toads put their ancestral weapons into action. All ten asteroids enveloped themselves in the purple protuberances we have seen before. Unlike the orbital fortresses, two artificial suns formed next to each of them, in a few moments they collapsed inside themselves and emitted lightning bolts of dark energy toward the approaching «Invisibles». 17 brightest flashes brought our losses in this attack to 31 ships. But there were 20 shots!

“Senior Analyst, report! Why didn’t the enemy three guns go off?”

“Apparently, some kind of malfunction or technical failure,” replied the young colonel in charge of the analytical service of the headquarters, and displayed on the projection screen in slow motion the picture recorded by the probe nearest to the scene. “Note, the destruction of the energy clot here was not the same as in the case of successful shots. The pseudo-star created by the toads’ weapons simply exploded instead of collapsing, scorching the asteroid’s surface. According to our estimates, the enemy fortifications would have sustained significant damage in the blast.”