Chapter 2

“Tactical Officer, what’s going on?” Commander Kilsh’s voice sounded flat. “Why didn’t the orbital fortresses collapse? It was bound to happen with so many hits.”

A tense silence occupied the command post of the cover squadron’s flagship for a few seconds.

“The enemy used a new type of ammunition, Commander Kilsh,” finally answered the officer. “Telemetry data from orbital fortresses show that they have lost all external weapon systems, including anti-aircraft emplacements and major caliber guns, but there are neither internal damages, no casualties among the garrisons.”

“But why do the humans have to go through all this trouble? With so many torpedoes, they could destroy our entire squadron, and as a result, they only managed to disable the four fortresses.”

“There’s only one reason they could have been motivated by, Commander Kilsh,” said the analyst officer, “they didn’t want to kill us. This conclusion is consistent with the content of their message, which they continue to broadcast cyclically on common frequencies.”

“What are the odds that all this is true?”

“It’s the propaganda of the humans! It’s a fake! Didn’t you get that right away, Commander Kilsh?” The officer-Surveillant shouted with annoyance.

“We have analyzed the recording,” the analyst reported, ignoring this emotional statement, “We compared the time of captivity of our soldiers and officers who appear in this message with the time of the likely activation of their mental blocks, and we’ve run the sound stream and the video series through a special program to compare voice, mimics, style and language to the samples we have. The on board computer did not detect any alterations. The video series was also not edited. The probability of counterfeiting is less than ten percent.”

“Too late. It’s too late anyway,” the Сommander of orbital defence said grimly.

“What’s too late, Commander Kilsh?” asked the officer-Surveillant in an insinuating tone. After the complete disappearance of Commander Yash’s strike fleet, the Surveillants became an integral part of the warships’ crews, and their powers were sufficient, even at the level of major units and fleets, to overrule commanders of any rank.

“You, too, have undergone a recent update of the block, Officer Lins?” The Commander asked the Surveillant indifferently.

“Of course,” there was a challenge in Lins’ voice, “and what does it matter?”

“Now it doesn’t matter anymore,” responded Kilsh seeming outwardly imperturbable and turned to his officers, “Light forces, form a barrier in front of the battleships and cruisers.”

Kilsh knew this maneuver was useless. If the human torpedo salvo has casually removed the veil of fighters and scanners, what can the corvettes and destroyers do against a new attack, except needlessly to perish? But the Commander just couldn’t do nothing. Had it not been for the renewed block in his head, he would have already given the order to end the useless resistance, especially since he was eager to believe the fairy tale humans were broadcasting on his ships. Kilsh was sick and tired of this senseless war…

The alarm has interrupted the Commander’s reflections.

“Enemy torpedo attack,” tactical officer shouted, “our light forces are under attack! Enemy torpedoes have breached the barrier!”

“Open the barrage fire,” impassively commanded Kilsh, knowing full well that it would do little. The flagship’s hull shuddered from frequent hits. These strikes were not strong – the second wave of enemy torpedoes knocked out anti-aircraft emplacements on the battleship’s hull, clearing the way for the main attackers, who also were not long in coming.

“Damage report,” demanded Kilsh when the ship’s shakings stopped.

“Major caliber cannons and anti-aircraft systems destroyed. Space scanning efficiency 20 percent. The hull is breached in three places, but the damage only affected the outer sections. Damage to the propulsion system is being investigated. Four crew members were slightly injured.”

“Make contact with the squadron’s ships,” requested the Commander. Having listened to the reports of the commanders of the ships and having given the necessary orders, Kilsh made a gesture to turn off the communication and fell hard into his chair set up in the center of the command post opposite the tactical hologram. He wouldn’t be able to call this a battle. Not a single ship of the squadron has been destroyed. Even the corvettes, which would have been annihilated by a single torpedo in a normal combat, have survived the attack of the enemy, but the squadron could no longer continue the battle – only a few guns were able to fire, the ships were not able to move, the aiming-navigation systems failed, constantly losing their targets. The humans did not shoot, although main batteries of their battleships could easily reach any ship of the squadron.

“Commander Kilsh, do you intend to command the battle?” The voice of the Surveillant has broken the silence set in the command post of the flagship.

“Do you see the slightest opportunity to continue the fight, Officer Lins?” The squadron Commander has turned to the Surveillant.

“I don’t have to explain to you, Commander, that the enemy is about to board. Why don’t you give the order to prepare to repel it?!”

“Because there’ll be no boarding,” Kilsh calmly answered.

“Do you want to give up?” hissed Lins,“ You probably forgot that the new block will kill you the first time you try anything!”

“I didn’t forget it,” answered Kilsh looking him straight into the eyes, “but it doesn’t change anything.”

“I’m relieving you of command of the squadron, former Commander Kilsh!” squealed Lins.

“Not this time, Surveillant.”

No one at the command post noticed how a gun appeared in the Commander’s hand. Kilsh was a big fan of hand-held personal weaponry and was good with it, and now his staff officers, who were well aware of the Commander’s passion, have been able to make sure of that once again. The dry crackle of the shot sounded especially loudly in the instant silence, and the Surveillant, with a neat hole in his forehead, collapsed into his chair, from which he had jumped a minute earlier.

“Establish communication with the enemy fleet,” ordered the Сommander in an ice-cold voice, lowering his hand with the gun, but not putting it in his holster.

“But…” the tactical officer’s face was affected by a misunderstanding, “but what about the block, Commander…”

“Do it!” barked Kilsh. His face was skewed. The Сommander almost felt death coming. Something was going on in his head, confusing his thoughts and clouding his consciousness. Then the pain came.

„So this is how a death order algorithm works when you’re on the verge of doing a prohibited act,” the thought ran through Kilsh’s mind, but he drove it away, trying to keep his consciousness lucid. So far, he’s been able to do that.

* * *

I watched silently on the tactical projection as our torpedoes struck the battleships and cruisers after forcing their way through the nominal light forces shield deployed by the enemy in front of the heavy ships. In fact, I saw nothing new. It was very similar to what happened during the attack on the orbital fortresses.

“Why don’t they give up?” Fulton was clearly perplexed, “After all, our message worked out so well near star Ran, and now it’s even more convincing.”

“It means that something has changed,” I told the Admiral, “don’t underestimate the enemy, they couldn’t help reacting to the complete disappearance of their strike fleet. If the fleet had died in battle, someone would have survived. There are some reconnaissance ships that are not directly involved in a battle, and that have good camouflage capabilities. Several such ships would have left the system and reported the defeat to their commands. But for the top leadership of the quargs, their armada simply vanished without a trace, which led them to believe that the Fleet ended its resistance on the orders of the commander, who no one dared disobey.”

“Call from enemy flagship!” Liaison officer shouted and, without waiting for orders, activated the channel.

A strange picture appeared before us on the projection screen. The camera’s field of view appeared to have been specifically enlarged, so we’ve seen the entire command post of the enemy flagship. The first thing that caught our eyes was the corpse of a quarg in the uniform of Surveillants, lying in a chair with a hole in his forehead. In the center, right in front of the camera, stood a quarg with a pistol in his lowered hand, his face was twisted in pain. The other officers were in their seats at the consoles and they were watching us, too.

The commander of the quargs tried to say something, but having evidently got a spasm of pain he fell to the floor. Officers rushed to him from different directions, but it was too late – the body of their commander twitched several times in convulsions and stiffened.

“This is the death order,” Slin-at told in low voice, while watching as enemy officers who have tried to help their commanding officer rise to their feet in confusion.

The communication channel was still working and I thought it was foolish to pass up such an opportunity, despite the dramatic nature of the situation.

“I am Fleet Admiral Lavroff, commander of the combined forces of men, lizards and free quargs,” I introduced myself to the officers of the enemy who had not yet put themselves back together. “You know very well that you’ve lost this battle. We didn’t start this war, and neither did you, but I think we can end it, or at least stop killing each other. My fleet has come to the Groombridge system to reclaim the planets you have captured, but I’m ready to consider the circumstances that make you fight with us. Your deaths are of no use to humans, to lizards, much less to free quargs. I see you are in no condition to surrender. Your commander made that clear at the cost of his life, and I respect what he did. So I’m giving you 48 hours to voluntarily leave the system. During this time, my ships will not attack the planets and prevent your evacuation.”

The quargs looked at me but didn’t try to answer. The body of their commander, lying on the floor, clearly demonstrated what such an attempt might threaten them. I didn’t provoke the enemy officers to do life-threatening things and ordered the comms off.

“Fleet, stop approaching the planet and begin accelerating to the star’s zone of influence.”

“They could call for help,” said Fulton with some doubt in his voice.

“Yes, they could,” I agreed with the Admiral, “Perhaps even the ships of their masters will arrive, though I highly doubt that. But we’re not gonna sit back, either. I need to know what happened, and I’m gonna find that out. Make contact with Rear Admiral Yoon Gao. I need him and Colonel Mbia here as soon as possible with their best men. Mbia had already landed on Groombridge-2 once, and it’s time to repeat the feat. And let them take the captive toads, I’ve business with them. And I’ll also need the little recon ship found in the hangar of the captured cruiser.”

* * *

This whole thing with the Federation and lizards’ attack on Groombridge was caused by extreme uncertainty. We didn’t know how strong the local toads were, hence, we could not claim with certainty that a frontal attack on their planets by the combined forces of the Federation, the lizards and the Imperial squadron would give us an unconditional victory, so we wanted to provoke the toads to move first. The Empire had sent powerful ships to help us, but there weren’t that many, because they just couldn’t take away more of them from the front that was already starting to come apart at the seams.

A lot has changed on the other side of the portal in the more than six years I’ve been gone, and these changes were not good. To begin with, political control changed hands in the Empire. Emperor Yort, who was at a very respectable age when I was Brigadier General Dean, died three years after my transfer here, and the election of a new emperor was never possible. The rival elite clans were never able to find a strong but at the same time a compromise figure that would satisfy everyone. In the midst of the difficult war, the task has proved doubly difficult. It was the Regency Council that ruled the Empire, and Chief of Staff Marshal Klink served as Commander-in-Chief, but his position was precarious, and it affected the quality of the administration of the Empire. As a result, things were getting worse in that state, which was still big and powerful, but was constantly shrinking.

I was thinking about what happened three months ago, when, right after the first contact with the Empire, the question of negotiations came up, and I was trying to figure out where I’d made a mistake. The Empire met our embassy very well, and at that moment it seemed to me that all our problems were close to being resolved, but as time passed, I felt more and more that they didn’t care for us, although it seemed that contact with the Federation offered them virtually unlimited opportunities…

I decided to go to negotiations with the Empire on battleship Dragon’s Tail. It was a very impressive ship, and very unusual by human standards. Besides, I felt it necessary to show respect to our allies on this side of the portal, who were the most active in the construction of this ship, and to invite them with me. When Tobolsky read the list of persons I included in our embassy, he shook his head in surprise and looked up at me.

“Mr Lavroff, don’t you think that’s too much? I can understand why you included Governor-General Lit-ta in your delegation, although I would have thought ten times whether we should involve the lizards in the initial stage of negotiations with the Empire, but why do you want to drag a captive quarg with you?”

“I believe, Mr President, that the former commander of the Kappa Ceti defense system, and at the same time the first quarg with the correctly removed mental block, can tell our potential allies a lot of interesting things. They’re fighting a war with the toads out there, which we happen to have as well. The Empire certainly does not expect such a turn of events, and Mr Tsché knows a lot about our local «frogs». Besides, he’s almost no longer a prisoner. Almost immediately after the removal of the block, he applied for the Earth Federation citizenship. Given the extraordinary nature of the case, no one has taken a decision on the matter without consulting you. So if you agree, Mr Tsché will be sent to negotiate as a Federation citizen.”

A deep crease cut through Tobolsky’s forehead. There was something about the idea that he clearly didn’t like.

“The granting of our citizenship to a quarg will set a precedent whose consequences we will disentangle for many years. I’m not sure it’s right, but rather it’s the other way around,” answered Tobolsky with a doubt in his voice, “I would suggest another option. How many quargs have had their blocks removed?”

“Several tens of thousands.”

“Then it would be more appropriate to establish a new independent quarg state under our protectorate in the Kruger 60 system. Let your Mr Tsché be its citizen and perhaps its leader. Well, let him go to the talks as an Allied race representative, if you think that’s helpful.”