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"Not necessarily," interjected Mike. He flipped to another page of the briefing packet. "Think of it this way. The Posleen fight in phalanx, right? Large blocks of normals with God Kings at irregular intervals, usually well back from the front."
"Right." The general's eyes narrowed as he watched Mike, working through the logic.
"And they basically can't be routed. You can't frighten them or hammer them into retreat." Mike scratched his chin in thought.
"The Galactics never have been able to," Horner pointed out. The possibility that humans might be able to was inherent in the correction.
"So you have to kill them, each and every one." Mike shook his head at the thought, tapping his cheek and scratching the slight stubble already arising. "But, even if you're at a terrain obstacle, and they're on a limited front, if you kill the first million, there's only two million behind them."
"Right," concurred Horner. "So you have to have something that is robust enough to kill them in the millions and survive getting hit by millions of them simultaneously." He thought about what he just said in terms of anything remotely "infantry-like." "You're right, it's impossible, we're fucked." The general shook his head, lips pursed, eyes focused in the distance on the problem.
Mike's eyes flashed wide and he snapped his fingers. "Right on the first constraint; wrong on the second. They don't have to survive being hit by millions of attackers simultaneously." He stabbed his finger at each point for emphasis. "If you have a classic walker, it will stand out above their formation and be a target for virtually every Posleen in range. But, if you have a suit of combat armor, it can be at their level, notionally, if the terrain is fairly flat, and only hit by the forces in the front rank. If a unit of suits is putting out enough hell on its own, it will suppress the fire directed against it, especially if it is heavily supported by artillery.
"In addition a unit will be able to pass through choking terrain, terrain that will be impassable to the Posleen and damn difficult for tanks or walkers, move faster than Posleen can and bring a world of hurt down on them at every contact. With the right Command Communication and Control systems a suit will be able to call for fire with pinpoint accuracy while simultaneously laying down close direct and distant indirect fire." Mike nodded in finality. "I was emotionally in favor of the suits from the begi
"Okay," said Horner, thinking about the concept and nodding to himself. He began to frown, a sure sign that he was pleased. "I can buy that. If the Galactics can build it."
"And if we can afford it; they're go
"Well," said Horner, his face turning even more grim, "this is what I was told. The Federation has been fighting this war since before our Civil War. At first they would contest each planet as a Federation, but after they lost planet after planet, they couldn't handle the mounting cost. So now each planet is on its own when it comes to planetary defense, while the Fleet is supported by the Federation. Planets that are under assault can normally raise funds through their corporate networks for defense. Since we have no corporate allies, where we are going to get the funding for our planetary defense is a major question."
"Well, if the Fleet is in gear, they'll never reach the ground," Mike pointed out.
"Right," agreed Horner, nodding, "but the Fleet right now is composed of fairly poor quality ships. That is what the Navy and Air Force guys are supposed to correct." He gestured at another flag officer, an admiral in this case, deep in conversation with another civilian.
"And guess who gets the Navy contract," snorted Mike, noticing who the civilian was. "So, we are going to be left here to rot on the ground," finished Mike sourly. "I hope we can at least get a hop in a combat shuttle out of it."
"Not entirely. The units that we envision here at this conference, the ones that are based around Galactic technologies, will first go to the Fleet. Some of them will be slated to `home' defense, but most will be deployed off planet." Horner's face was blank, waiting for the inevitable reaction to that statement.
"Oh, joy," said Mike, angrily. "So we dream up this stuff, then send all the forces off planet and lose Earth behind them? What are we, a modern Australia?" he asked, referring to the role that country had played in WWII. With the vast majority of its forces battling the Germans in North Africa, Australia was nearly invaded by the Japanese. Only American intervention and a stroke of luck in the Coral Sea prevented the inevitable loss of the continent to the Japanese.
"Like I said," said Horner, patiently, "a fair proportion of it will be slated to home defense. But the point is, the equipment and R and D costs will be picked up by the Galactics. Also, we won't just be dreaming it up. We really need to have all our ducks in a row, because what is dreamed up at this conference is, more or less, what we're going to take into combat. We will not only dreamland the weapons systems, we'll also be the full authorizers; these weapons will not go through the usual procurement ritual."
"What? Why?" asked Mike, surprised. Development and procurement was normally a long-term process involving a cast of millions. While it was more than himself and the general on the team, a group like this would usually just start the design process rolling.
"Think about it Mike," the general snapped. "We've only got five years, less if you think about fielding forces for planets already under assault and the attacks that will probably occur before the main landing. We have to get these systems designed, simmed, tested out, the manuals written and fielded in time for units to do a total conversion before the landings." Horner smiled ferally. "And that also means that every swinging dick of a military contractor with a four billion dollar piece of crap does not get to bid. Our team and some Indowy and Tchpth are going to be designing it from the ground up."
"Yeah!" said Mike with a smile. "But where are we going to get the bodies?" he continued. "Even if we do a general call-up and recall everybody like me, who's still young enough they can be half-ass effective, we're not going to have enough bodies. Not for the Fleet and the ground forces."
"First of all," said Horner with a glittering smile, "our job is to concentrate on the systems and let perso
"The Galactics have been generally reluctant to discuss medical technology because of some of their bioethics laws, but they are supplying a rejuvenation and life prolongation technology. We're going to recall people who haven't worn a uniform since Vietnam if necessary. Maybe even earlier."
Mike thought about that for a moment, opened his mouth, then closed it and thought some more. He furrowed his brow and shook his head. "Has anyone really thought that through?"
"Yes," said Horner, with another tight smile.
"I mean," Mike paused trying to process the enormous thought. "Hell, turn over any rock and you find a vet. Vets might only make up ten or twenty percent of the population but they are everywhere . . ."