Assault Line. Макс Глебов
Читать онлайн книгу.
we have an economy that produces non-military goods in quantities that are clearly excess to a belligerent State, luxury goods, miscellaneous services and a host of other junk that devours productive and human resources that could and should be channelled into the military industry. And the enemy has behaved differently all these years. We thought we’d made a breakthrough in the war on our own, and it turned out that a large part of the enemy’s troops and resources had been diverted by another, unknown theatre of operations. Instead of mobilizing all forces and decisively defeating the enemy, we gave our adversary the opportunity to focus on destroying our potential allies, leaving only deterrent forces on our front. And now we have a logical result. The Ally is on the verge of defeat, and we’re going to be left alone with the enemy whose strength we never imagined until the last moment, and I’m not sure we have a complete picture of the strength of our adversary at this time.”
They listened to me. The facial expressions were different, from annoyed to brooding, but I didn’t see any indifference.
“May I ask Mr Lavroff a question?” The Minister of Labour was up from his seat.
Tobolsky silently nodded.
“Am I to understand correctly that you are proposing to transfer a significant proportion of civilian production to the defence industry?”
“Quite right, Mr Minister.”
“And what do you imagine, Mr Lavroff? In this sector of the economy, 80% of companies are represented by small and lower-middle-sized businesses. Are you going to nationalize all these businesses, too?”
“In no case. There is not enough state management resources, and the efficiency of their work is going to go down a lot. They will receive orders from the enterprises of the military-industrial complex centrally. Again, there are precedents in the history of the same Germany or Japan.”
“Gentlemen, these are the details. We can discuss them later,” The Minister of Defense has interrupted our discussion, “Mr Lavroff, you said that nationalization alone would not be enough. You want to surprise us with another social bomb?”
“No, Mr Minister, I don’t want to,” I answered without reacting to Bronstein’s sarcasm, “It would be purely military measures. There are three operations to be carried out: the destruction or disabling of the docks with the enemy’s superbattleships under construction, a reconnaissance raid on potential allied territory, and a sudden, demonstrative attack on one, and better yet, two star systems in quarg territory. This is the only way we can significantly delay, if not prevent, the deadly enemy strike.”
“It’s utopia and empty fantasizing, Captain,” the Chief of the General Staff was heard from the Presidium table. General of the Army Mazilescu was outraged by my insolence and impertinence, which clearly was on his face. “The Commander-in-Chief has appointed you, Captain, to the general officer post of the Chairman of the New Equipment and Weapons Commission, and I’m sure he knew what he was doing making that decision. It is in this role that you are at this Senior Command Meeting, although your rank doesn’t match it’s level. Nevertheless, you take the liberty of proposing strategic initiatives upon which the Federation’s fate depends, although, as I recall, you haven’t even graduated from the General Staff Academy yet.”
“General of the Army, Sir,” responded I with the utmost neutrality. It was not my intention to destroy relations with Mazilescu, “The Commander-in-Chief gave me the floor at this meeting to make my observations, and I am making them. The assessment of what I say will naturally be made by superior officers, of whom this is immediate responsibility, and who will also take the final decisions.”
“Ehh… Mr Mazilescu,” suddenly I heard a familiar voice from the audience. This was Indonesian professor Suparman Alatas in the general’s uniform, which, as usual, did not fit. In his usual manner, he ignored the statutory appeals to his superiors, and anyway he didn’t care at all about all the rules and regulations. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it was Mr Lavroff who got us the information we’re all here to discuss. It seems to me that this fact alone obliges us at least to listen carefully to him.”
The discussion, which periodically turned into a heated debate, lasted more than five hours. A variety of proposals have been made, discussed and discarded, but the outcome was not at all what I wanted.
I was listened to, but not heard. The idea of a diversionary strike on the inner planets of the quargs, intended to cast doubt on the safety of the rear, and to force the enemy to postpone the offensive until the problem is resolved, was rejected. It has been hailed as unrealistic proposition, given the Federation’s lack of forces even to effectively defend its own systems, let alone a major offensive.
The admirals also had an open skepticism about the surprise attack on the enemy’s shipyards. Such structures are located in well-protected star systems, where forces sufficient to strike effectively cannot enter without being detected. Consequently, we will have to fight our way there, which means casualties, probably very large.
The meeting was more or less comfortable only with the idea of a reconnaissance raid to find star systems of a potential ally, but I have also been pointed out that there are no ships in the Fleet with the necessary characteristics of invisibility and range.
As a result, I was forced to prepare urgently the necessary ships for a reconnaissance raid, and I’ve been politely but firmly asked not to engage in strategic military planning having my captain’s shoulder straps.
The High Assembly decided to confine itself to traditional measures such as „increase the production”, „review the financing”, „force the construction”, „fully cooperate” and „Conduct additional recruitment to…”. Complacency, in short. I would call this behavior criminal negligence, but who would listen to me?
Anyway, coming out of the meeting, I almost physically felt the closeness of a sad ending and I felt powerless to change the situation. These people with the big stars on their shoulder straps didn’t want to realize that the situation had changed. In the last 15 years, they’ve grown accustomed to balance on the fronts, and now perceived the new threat as something ordinary, something that has been dealt with many times and successfully.
But this time, I don’t think you gentlemen will get away with it.
I dismissed Yoon Gao, who was never been called to the meeting, and went back to my office. I missed the Academy classes again today.
After my appointment as Chairman of the Commission of the Ministry of Defense, the Chief of the Academy O’Sullivan had to allow me to attend classes freely and a partial correspondence course. He didn’t like the decision at all, but the General knew there was no other option. And I needed the Academy like air. Without it, there could be no further military career. So I was quite grateful to the old Irishman. That’s the second time he’s helped me out, and I’m trying not to forget that.
My depression didn’t last long. I called Inga, and we went for a walk in Central Park. Inga, in her elegant uniform, that fitted her perfectly, with the senior lieutenant’s shoulder straps, the Iron Cross on the chest and and the qualification tab with green long bands of combat experience looked irresistible in every sense. Early graduation from the Planetary Commando Academy and my personal relationship with the director of the Academy let me lay my impudent hands on her career. Inga received an extraordinary rank and the Iron Cross for boarding the enemy flagship in the Barnard’s system. Any commander would gladly accept an officer with such combat experience, but my request didn’t give them a chance, and Inga was placed at my disposal as commander of the Land Weapons Test Company together with Lieutenant Fulton and Lieutenant Jaswinder and a dozen other former General Schiller’s cadets.
A while back, I tried, but I couldn’t talk Inga out of a military career. Now, at least I managed to keep her under my supervision. I don’t want Inga landing on enemy planets in the first wave of commandos. I don’t want it, that’s all. By the way, it was the acute reluctance to send her on the attack that led me to the very, very correct idea, but I’ll talk about none of it now.
“Listen, Igor,” said Inga after listening to my emotional account of the meeting at the Ministry of Defence, “What did you expect them to do? That they