Assault Line. Макс Глебов
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and in terms of camouflage parameters, they did not compare with the command planes and torpedoes of our manufacture, so the only way to release them was from ships already discovered by the enemy, or they would just disclose us. As a result, only eight pursuit planes entered the battle against the light forces of the quargs, which were pressing hard the transport gathering speed.
Meanwhile, Bridgetown’s situation was becoming hopeless. Quarg forces were based not only on the sixth planet, but also at other points in the system, including behind our backs. We bypassed them, hiding behind the camouflage umbrella of EW stations, but the ship that had been discovered could not escape. The unarmed and, by and large, the non-combat ship was unable to counteract the corvettes and destroyers. A bright flare at the place of the transport ended this brief battle. By the time the ship was destroyed, all eight pursuit planes released from it had already been shot down, it turned out to be inevitable because of the major inequality in strength.
Three of our transports, still undetected, hovered in the void, waiting for events to unfold. A wave of torpedoes led by command machines continued to make their way cautiously to the targets, bypassing enemy ships and stationary scanners as far as possible. The pilots of the command pursuit planes were finding it increasingly difficult to do so, because enemy activity around the sixth planet has increased significantly.
The surprise element was lost, but the torpedoes were not far from the target. “What are we going to do, Commander, Sir?” asked me the transport commander, “The probability of our detection is increasing by the minute. The quargs are pulling forces from the entire system.”
“Just waiting,” I answered with demonstrative calmness, “If we turn the engines on, we’ll almost certainly be spotted. We wait for the torpedoes to strike. Maybe in the mess we can slip away.”
“Detected by the enemy!” The report came from one of the command machines. Not far from the planet, by cosmic standards, there was a short fight. Our pursuit plane has taken counter-courses with the enemy’s corvette. There was no comparison between the ship weights, but the pursuit plane, quick-moving and very well-protected by electronic warfare means, slipped away from the rockets and anti-aircraft shells, and fired two light missiles at the enemy. The only way they could do serious damage to a spaceship was with good luck, but the pilot of the discovered pursuit plane was not actually going to do it. He sought to complete his task.
The torpedoes, abandoned by the pilot during the battle, again sensed the steel strings of the control signals and they rushed after the command machine to the autonomous space quarg dock, doing desperate chaotic jerks and evasive maneuvers. The anti-aircraft systems of the dock and the guarding ships were hitting the dangerous enemy with shells and missiles. Torpedoes were destroyed one by one.
The command machine pilot led his wards to the line from which they could attack the dock autonomously, and by a sharp maneuver he broke the distance with the dock full of anti-aircraft cannons. None of the ten torpedoes made it to the target.
The quarg gunners could only be applauded, but the destroyed torpedoes have done their dark work by diverting the attention of the enemy’s defense systems and ships. When forty more torpedoes came out of the void, the shipyard’s anti-aircraft systems were no longer able to cope with this deadly threat.
All four autonomous space docks were attacked almost simultaneously, as planned. The early discovery of one of the command machines had only facilitated this task. Titanic shipbuilding structures were covered by explosions of binary warheads of torpedoes. The shaped charge penetrated the hull and burned a path in front of it in order for the blast part of the torpedo to enter into the unfinished ship. The impact of several dozen of the most powerful munitions caused disastrous damage to the autonomous space docks along with the unfinished ships. One of the ships split into three pieces, which began to slowly spin into the gravity well of the gas giant together with the encircling structures of the destroyed dock. The nearest ship exploded without a sound. Only the quargs could be asked, what could possibly have exploded that way, but the spectacle turned out to be fascinating. The two remaining unfinished battleships were destroyed less spectacularly, but equally inexorably.
I didn’t need to give any commands. According to the operation plan, once the torpedoes were pulled out to the autonomous assault line, the pilots of the command machines were to return immediately to the transports, that, as we saw, they did.
The quargs were confused. Some of the enemy’s big commanders must have lost their temper, and for a while could not adequately lead their subordinates. In any case, the movements of enemy ships were haphazard, at least in our view. But it didn’t make it any easier, because there were too many quargs at the party we were having.
We picked up the returned command machines and, in principle, the plan was to start acceleration for the jump. We did our job, but not without loss. Except turning the transports’ engines on was tantamount to suicide. Of course, the camouflage wouldn’t completely come off, but it would be 40% down, and the space around us was crawling with enemy ships, and their numbers were growing by the minute.
“The odds of our detection in the next 30 minutes are estimated by the computer at 60%,” told me the commander of the transport, “It’s time to make a decision, Commander, Sir.”
“How many people do we have on board all three ships?” I asked a question that was unexpected to everyone.
“42 people,” answered Matveyev with a note of surprise in his voice.
“Commander Yoon Gao,” I called our scout on the laser-optical link, “How many people can you put on your ship if you don’t give a damn about all the rules and regulations and instructions? I have 42 people here who want to keep your crew company.”
“Captain, Sir, are you serious? You flew with me. We have a crew of five.”
“What if otherwise these 42 people just die?”
“Well…There’s nothing to think about, let’s have your passengers. Just how? ”
“Pull up close and open the outer hatch of the small cargo hold. Transports have a universal docking unit. We’re lucky we didn’t dismantle it. The rest is about the skills of the pilots.”
The modernized medium-size recon ship had an incomparably better camouflage than the transport, that’s what Yoon Gao and I have seen more than once during the previous raid, so without fear, he made a careful maneuver, approached three of our ships and joined the docking unit of the nearest transport.
The pilot of Yoon Gao’s ship clearly knew his business, or maybe Yoon himself was driving the ship now, who knows, but the docking was done with maximum accuracy.
“Pilots of the command machines, take positions in the pursuit planes and get ready to receive a combat mission.”
“Commander, Sir,” asked me Commander Matveyev, “Maybe my pilots should prepare for takeoff, too?”
“No way. Unless, of course, you want to ruin us all. From this distance, your machines will be like Christmas trees with garlands and balloons for the enemy. Only our command machines have a chance, so prepare your men for an emergency evacuation. Transport crews, leave the ships and prepare them for self-destruction.”
“Ready to take off,” our pilot’s commander reported.
“Pursuit planes, simulate an attack in the direction of the sixth planet with the task of diverting enemy forces from our ships. Do not engage in close combat, but keep the enemy as far away from here as possible. You need to hold on for 20 minutes. You’ll get further orders from the recon ship. Mission clear?”
“That’s right.”
“Do it!”
I have met the expression „to pack like sardines” before, but until now, I didn’t give it much attention, and it turned out I should. For the next 15 minutes, I had to feel the depth and lexical precision of this idiom the hard way. It was really cramped.
Three simultaneous flashes behind the stern of Yoon Gao’s ship marked the end of the active phase of our operation and the beginning of a painful journey home. It was especially distressing to us when the ship, already overcrowded, was filled with