Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Three: After-Action Conference (Patreon)

The after-action conference was at the Stratospheric Guard HQ in London. Six officers in uniform, and me in nanofibre weave standing out like a sore thumb.

"This wasn't a battle," said Windsor. "This was a probe."

Fontaine nodded in agreement. "The Guard agrees with your assessment, General Windsor. The Hierarchy is testing us."

“With what purpose?” Admiral Scharnhost of the Bundeswehr said. “We turned back this raid with minimal casualties. Even though they used that super-tank of theirs.”

“Perhaps that was the point. The Hierarchy is revealing their bag of tricks in bits and pieces, never showing the whole picture.”

“Why? It would make more sense for them to throw all the surprises at us at once. Why let them out in dribs and drabs, give us time to prepare?”

“Our best guess is that they want to see if London was a once-off. We were far better prepared than we normally are. Singapore was a surprise, but we still came out better than we’d have normally. In no small part, due to Belessar here.” Windsor gestured at me. “If we can sustain the same level of response to each attack, then we have a chance to break the pattern.”

“And force them to retaliate with more powerful attacks.”

“And test the limits of their logistics. We’ve been assuming they could only mount company or battalion strength assaults because of cost. London represented a significant chunk of their available ground combat strength, which is why they didn’t follow up with a second strike on the same scale. They were waiting for reinforcements.”

“But you think they don’t have enough to mount another assault?”

“Heath? I mean, Major Heath, not Major-General Heath - please explain.”

Edward Heath smiled nervously as his father - seated on the other side of the table - chuckled. “We were able to retrieve some written records from the Raptor shuttles. Our translations indicate that there are societal limits on the Raptors in terms of authority. A normal Raptor can command a maximum of five hundred and twelve soldiers, never more than that, which is why the highest-ranking Raptors we’ve seen so far have been Raptor Captains. Only the Raptor clanlords can command more than that.”

“There were a lot more during the London assault - who was leading them?”

“The Greater Carnotaur known as Ehu-tu-Vettorak was the commander of the overall assault.”

“Any indications on the size or capabilities of the overall Raptor army?”

“We already knew the Raptors are organized around feudally-structured clans. Each clan numbers several million individuals at least.”

“Several … million?”

“Please note, this includes a very large number of civilians. The vast majority of the Raptor population - like ours - are noncombatants, working to support their governments and pay their taxes. A Clan is the equivalent of a small country, so the Clanlords are effectively heads of state in their own right - except that they all owe fealty to the Hierarchy, and most have Xeranai ‘advisors’ assigned to help and guide them.”

“How many soldiers per clan?” asked Fontaine.

“Typically, less than one in a hundred Raptors qualifies to be a soldier. Each clan maintains a large standing army, but the Xeranai enhance less than one in ten of the soldiers, and only the enhanced soldiers qualify for space duty.”

“So a few thousand soldiers per clan,” Fontaine nodded in relief.

“For small clans, sir. We were able to make an estimate of the size of Guthnar. Sixteen billion citizens; two million enhanced and space-capable Raptors.”

There was silence around the table for a moment.

“The ones who make it to Earth, sir, are the best of the best. Guthnar is the largest clan, but the others are, well, not small either. Clan Velaxa also numbers twelve billion sentients, another two million space-rated soldiers; they specialize in the Heavy Snipers. Clan Tenemas, Clan Kanmar, Clan Mudhvai and Clan Bruthama are smaller but each can put up a million or more troops in space. And that’s just the space-rated men; there are ten ordinary grunts for each of those soldiers.”

“Still, the wipeout at London has got to have hurt them.”

“It has, but not as much as we’d expected. Raptor forces in the local sector were depleted; they’re shipping more in from other sectors and planets. The issue is, we hurt the Raptors and the Sarnak. We didn’t even touch the species of the Mind - and they’re the ones who actually make the decisions.”

“We’re killing the slaves, not the masters,” Scharnhost said.

“Exactly, sir. The Raptors being shipped in here will continue to throw themselves at hard targets. Even if we wipe them out to the last man, the Puppetmasters won’t care, the Xeranai will fuss over the fact that their tools broke, and the Archons - well - nobody knows what they’ll do.”

“We hear a lot about the Archons, but we’ve never seen one,” Fontaine observed. “What did the prisoner of your say about them? The one who was killed?”

“He didn’t talk about the Archons, said it was bad luck. Seems that bad-mouthing the invincible flying engines of destruction can be hazardous to your health.”

“Belessar, do you believe that the combat armor you have made for the British is capable of taking on the Archons, whatever they are?”

“Not a chance. Boar armor will give a normal human the ability to match a Grizzeloid, but that’s it. I wouldn’t go up against a Carnotaur in that.”

“What about your current type of battlesuit? Can that serve?”

“I doubt it, General. Archons - whatever they are - represent a threat at least one order of magnitude higher than Carnotaurs, and the Greyhound isn’t really designed for a Carnotaur fight.”

“You killed four Carnotaurs while wearing it.”

“That wasn’t entirely due to the Greyhound. There are other, less reproducible tools that made the difference.”

“Such as the weaponization of portals for suborbital kinetic strikes,” said Windsor. “Frankly, we don’t see that as a long-term solution.”

“Do we have independent assessment of the battlesuits used in Singapore?” Scharnhost asked.

“They’re good but not that good,” said Devlin Heath. “The SAS boys know how to use them, sure, but mostly the suits just enhance your strength and survivability. Can’t conceal worth a damn. You can, of course, avoid the hassle of taking cover, and they’re perfect for charging into the teeth of heavy fire, or powering a rifle that’s an energy hog.”

“The lightning guns were an energy hog?” I asked, curious.

“The SAS has had those around for a while. They’re a pain to carry, and work best as a heavy weapon in conjunction with standard rifles; the Boar Armor allows them to be used as a standard weapon. Bit better than a HEPAR, but more expensive, and needs a lot of power to operate.”

“Will the United Kingdom restrict the sale of the armours to other nations?” Scharnhost shot a pointed look at Windsor.

The British general didn’t bat an eyelid. “The armours, although powerful, do not fundamentally change the balance of power between allied nations. The UK currently has exclusive rights on the Boar class battlesuits, and the United States has already indicated that they want some. Currently these work best as specialized gear for special forces units.”

“Twenty armours aren’t going to change the course of the war, Windsor.”

“Two armours per country aren’t going to either. What we propose to do is equip a single brigade of five thousand soldiers with nanofibre weave - which is the next best thing - and have them as a rapid-reaction force. This brigade should be ready soon. Depending on how fast Belessar can make the nanofibre weave, of course.”

“A few weeks,” I temporized, “and then I can focus on making more Boar Armor.”

“That soon? That’s the best news I’ve heard this week.” Fontaine beamed. “I trust some suits will be set aside for the Armee de Terre and the Bundeswehr?”

“The United Kingdom gets the first batch of suits,” Windsor replied. “After that, the US. Then we work with each country, one by one.”

“That’s a very restrictive approach to technology sharing, Windsor.”

“I’d like to point out that the suits are made by BAE, a British company, along with Belessar. And that we funded the plant that is used to make them. Besides, do you really want us to distribute them in penny-packets? Wouldn’t you rather have a single, effective fighting unit, maybe fifty to a hundred suits that can act together and deliver a single, compact, knockout punch to the foe?”

Scharnhost and Fontaine exchanged glances, then nodded. “What you say makes sense. However, we insist that Belessar make as many suits as possible. And that we get the same rates as the UK is paying.”

“I can promise you, no markups,” I said. “I’m not in this for the money. The only limitation is that I have to assign each suit to its user individually.”

“That can be handled. We request that you push to full production as quickly as possible, Belessar, for both the nanofibre weave and the Boar armor. The nations of the world are depending on you.”

“I will. I have two requests, though.”

“... Which would be?”

“First, I have a need for, um, human brain tissue. Cancerous cells, disposed organs, anything that’s donated for medical research…”

“Is it a component of the suits?”

“It’s a component of the manufacturing equipment. Let’s leave it at that, please.”

“The UK has already provided such material,” Windsor added, “and we’ll share how you can, too. I assure you it passed all the bio-ethics reviews.”

“We’ll see. And the other?”

“I need the Carnotaur hide.”

“The … what?”

“The skin and outer tissue surfaces of the Carnotaurs we killed in London, and those before that. I need the hard outer layers - all of it.”

The officers around the table seemed taken aback slightly. Scharnhost cleared his throat. “May I ask, what for?”

“My next-generation combat armor.”

“... you plan to make it out of skin.”

“I plan to make it out of a substance which has, as one component, Carnotaur skin. It’s no different from using nail clippings.”

“We don’t desecrate the dead…”

“Avi Goldman showed me a mortuary not too long ago. Alien corpses vivisected and cut up. I’m not asking for anything we don’t already do.”

“We’ll agree to supply it once a hundred suits are made available to the Stratospheric Guard,” replied Fontaine, “over and above the suits provided to the British.”

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As the meeting broke up, I strolled over to Windsor.

“Belessar,” the general greeted me. “You certainly had an interesting request today.”

“One that only the Stratospheric Guard can agree to.”

“You can take that up once you’re done with the first batch for us. How’s that progressing, by the way?”

“A few weeks before we complete the nanofibre weave.”

“Can you ship whatever you’ve made immediately? Equip the men, give them time to get used to the gear.”

“I can ship you five thousand four hundred and ninety-eight nanofibre weave suits next week. The remainder you get after the first batch of Boar Armor.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Why the two short?”

“I need you to take delivery of the Boar Amor first. The full batch, as you said, and I’ll have it ready in two weeks. At the rates we agreed, of course?”

“Of course. How many suits can you put together?”

“One thousand Boar Armors.”

Windsor stopped in his tracks.

He turned to me. “Did you say one thousand. Boar class battle armours.”

“Yes. I hope you have the five hundred million pounds available.”

“You can make that many in two weeks?”

I’d been making fullersteel non-stop from the furnace for a reason. “Yes. Do you want them?”

“Hell yes, I want them! … Wait, you want something more than just the money, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I want your help getting the Carnotaur skin. I’ll make another hundred units for the Stratospheric Guard after the contract, and you get me the skin.” I grinned. “Let’s not tell them how many suits I’m giving you for now, shall we?”

“... Sure, Belessar. … you said two weeks, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Excuse me while I make a call.”

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<Belessar>: He seem surprised to you?

<Nanocloud>: I can confirm that. He’s on the phone with the Chancellor of the Exchequer right now.

<Belessar>: Seriously?

<Nanocloud>: Well you did ask for a half billion pounds in two weeks.

<Belessar>: The defence budget is a hundred billion.

<Nanocloud>: Dad says it’s a hundred billion a year, only a quarter of that is equipment acquisition, and that’s two billion a month. For the whole of the UK’s armed forces. You’re going to be, um, sucking up a quarter of their month’s cash flow shortly. Of course he’s got to call the Exchequer.

<Belessar>: Will it be a problem?

<Nanocloud>: Shouldn’t be, let’s see.