"Steve Gordon - Ensectoid 01 - The Ensectoid Invasion" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gordon Steve)

rank was Victory Admiral (five star), he had given up that
rank to return to active duty in the field. Regardless of his
rank, Peterson was technically the top Navy man, and expected
proper behavior from all his sailors--even the great Norman
North, the hero of Trajinar.
"I still think it's foolish," said North stubbornly, as
if he didn't fear anything Peterson could do to him.
"This is a decision of the civilian hierarchy, and we
report to them, not the other way around," said Peterson.
"Are you saying you are going to go against the orders of our
civilian authorities?"
North avoided this obvious trap. "No, of course not,
sir." He was already aware of the number of resignations, a
number of them forced, over the issue. Some of the best fleet
captains and admirals of the line had already resigned in
protest; but North was not ready to take that route. That
wasn't his way.
Peterson relaxed slightly. "Very well then. You're
entitled to have your own personal opinion about peace with
the Insectoids, but keep that opinion to yourself. Now, let's
talk about your next assignment." Having taken North down a
notch, he felt inclined to be a bit more generous. "I'm
prepared to give you some latitude. Where would you like your
fleet to be located?"
North felt his mouth drop open. "I had assumed that I
would go to Vitalics with the rest of the fleet for the
signing of the armistice."
"That's not wise, War Admiral. You yourself pointed out
the folly of putting the entire fleet all in one place,
leaving our planets undefended. The League President has
agreed with your line of thought in this matter. That's why
he's permitting you and your fleet to stay behind."
"Meaning he doesn't want me anywhere near Vitalics
during the signing."
"That's another way of putting it," said Peterson,
allowing himself a grin. "But I'm prepared to give you some
latitude in your positioning."
"Latitude?"
"You can base your fleet anywhere you like... as long
as it's not within 10 lightyears of Vitalics."
 "I see," said North. He turned to a star map, as if
thinking, then pointed to a star, "Hunt."
"The Hunt system?" Peterson looked surprised, both at
the speed of North's response and his selection. "I would've
thought you would've chosen a system 10.1 lightyears from
Vitalics, or stationed yourself here on August."
"Hunt will do fine, sir. What forces are under my
command?"
"Here's a readout," said Peterson, handing him a
datapad. North took a look at it, and bit his lip. 42 ships.