"02 - Battle Cry" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinney Jack)

"Enough of this! You were given an assignment, and you bungled it." He made a dismissive gesture. "Return to your quarters and await my judgment."
The pilots bowed and exited, leaving Breetai and his adviser alone in the chamber. Exedore had adopted a pensive pose.
"Of late I have witnessed this same scene all too frequently, Commander. Continued contact with these Micronians has threatened the integrity of your command. Our forces are confused and demoralized."
"Your point is well taken, Exedore. They are accustomed to decisive victories."
"I fear that this game of `cat-and-mouse' will undermine us, my lord."
"Then perhaps the time has come to talk to them."
"I agree, Commander."
"All right then, consider it done." Breetai grinned. "But we must be persuasive. I doubt they will surrender one of their kind just for our asking."

A planet was centered in the main extravehicular monitor screen of the SDF-1. Even under full magnification it was impossible to discern any surface details; but that made no difference to the men and women on the bridge, who had long ago committed to memory those oceans and continents and distinctive cloud patterns. Earth! Darker than they knew it was due to the filters used on the giant reflector scopes, but their homeworld nonetheless. From their vantage, the planet was scarcely ten degrees from the solar disc itself, still on the far side of the sun, but there it was: visible, almost palpable.
Save for the ever-present whirls, hums, and beeps Robotechnology contributed to life on the bridge, you could have heard the proverbial pin drop. Lisa Hayes, Claudia Grant, Sammie, Vanessa, Kim, and Captain Gloval-all of them were transfixed by the sight. But their silence was purposeful as well as ceremonious. They had just directed a radio beam transmission to the United Earth Defense Council headquarters and were now awaiting the response.
All at once static crackled through the overhead speakers; all eyes fixed on these now, the forward screen forgotten.
"Captain Gloval," the voice began, "due to the possibility that our security may be breached and this transmission intercepted by the enemy, we cannot give you the information you requested about our present support systems...Fortunately for us, the enemy forces were more interested in following the SDF-1, and consequently, you are requested to continue to keep them at bay and not return to Earth. Repeat: Do not attempt a return at this time. That is all."
This time the bridge crew was just too stunned to speak.
Finally, Vanessa deadpanned, "Welcome home."

"I can't believe this," said Claudia. "We're expected to stay out here and be sitting ducks while they, they-Oh, forgive me, sir, I've spoken out of turn."
Captain Gloval said nothing. Was it possible, he was wondering, that after more than a year in space the SDF-1 could simply be turned away, that the council had decided to offer them up as sacrifices? Gloval pressed the palms of his hands to his face as if to wipe away what his expression might betray. It was more than possible, it was probable.
Eleven years ago, when initial exploration of the recently arrived SDF-1 had revealed the remains of alien giants, the World Unification Alliance had decided to reconstruct the ship and to develop new weaponry designed for defense against this potential enemy. It was a ruse, but it had succeeded to some degree in reuniting the planet. Confrontations during the past year had made it plain to Gloval that the enemy had traveled to Earth to reclaim their ship. Just what was so important about this particular vessel remained a mystery, but it was obvious that the aliens wanted it back undamaged. The spacefold undertaken on that fateful day had inadvertently rescued Earth from any further devastation. In this way, the Robotechnicians had done their job: An alien attack had been averted.
Gloval was now forced to take a long hard look at the present situation through the eyes of the Earth leaders. And through the eyes of the enemy. Several possibilities presented themselves. The fate of the Earth might still hang in the balance regardless of whether or not the SDF-1 was captured, destroyed, or surrendered. If the Council was thinking along those lines, then perhaps work was under way on some unimaginable weapons defense system, and time was what they needed most-time that the SDF-1 could buy for them. But if the ship was the enemy's central concern, it would occur to the aliens sooner or later to use their superior firepower to hold the Earth hostage. And how could one compare the loss of 50,000 lives to the annihilation of an entire planet?
Sadly, there was something about the short message that led Gloval to believe that Earth had already written them off.
When the Captain looked up, he realized that Lisa, Claudia, and the others were staring at him, waiting for his reaction.
Full of false confidence, he stood up and said:
"We're changing course."

The Zentraedi had grown so accustomed to the Micronians' erratic behavior and unpredictability that it hardly surprised them when the SDF-1 repositioned itself. Where at one time they would have puzzled over the situation and analyzed its strategic implications, they now simply altered their plans accordingly. And it just so happened in this instance that the course change was easy to accommodate.
Breetai and Exedore communicated their attack plan to Grel, acting liaison officer for the Botoru's Seventh Division-Breetai refused to have any further direct dealings with Khyron. Grel relayed the information to his commander.
Khyron received him in his quarters onboard the battle cruiser. He had been using the dried leaves again, a habit he turned to in tranquil times, and ingested one as Grel spoke.
"They've changed course?"
"Yes, my lord. Already they have recrossed the orbit of the fourth planet, and our course projections show them closing on the system's planetoid belt."
"Hmm, yes, they seem to fear deep space. Go on."
"While the Noshiran and Harmesta assault groups are engaging the enemy, we are to choose a planetoid of suitable makeup and sufficient size and destroy it. It is Commander Breetai's belief that the Micronians will raise their shields against the resultant debris-"
"Shunting power for the shields from their main battery weapons system."
"Such is Breetai's belief. With their main gun inoperable and their Battloids engaged, Zor's ship will be rendered helpless."
Khyron slapped the table. "Then we move in for the kill!"
"No, Commander."
"What then?"
"Warning shots across the bow of the ship."
"What!-without hitting them?"
"Commander Breetai will then demand a surrender."
A look of disbelief flashed across the Khyron's face. He threw back his head and laughed. "This reeks of Exedore's hand. What can he be thinking of? We've chased these Micronians through this entire star system. They know we won't destroy the ship, so why expect a surrender now?" Khyron's gestures punctuated his words. "A demand must be backed up with the threat of annihilation."
"I agree, Commander. The Micronians have demonstrated a remarkable tenacity. They will continue to fight."
Khyron thought for a moment. "Suppose they had to fight blindfolded, Grel. Say, without their radar..."
"But Commander, our orders-"
"To hell with our orders! I'm not afraid of Breetai."
Khyron stood up and approached his underling conspiratorily.
"What we need now is someone to toss to Central Command. Someone willing to admit to a tactical blunder-a misdirected laser bolt."
"I understand, my lord."
"Good. If no one volunteers, then use your discretion and choose one...We must take care to cover our tracks, my dear Grel."