“This my bird?” he asked, walking up to where a man in coveralls was looking over one of the craft.

“Sir!”

“Relax before you sprain yourself.” Eric walked past him, running a hand along the hard-edged side of the craft.

“Sorry, sir. Yes, I’ve been assigned as your pilot, Captain.”

Eric nodded. “Is she ready to fly?”

“Oh, yes sir.”

“Good. I’ll have my EXO-Mech loaded aboard . . .”

“Already done, sir. Loaded in fifteen minutes after you landed.”

That took Eric by surprise, but then he supposed that it shouldn’t have. When the brass had an idea, good or bad, they could ram it through in a hurry when they were of a mind to. He just nodded and walked back to the side door, then pulled himself up into the craft.

“I’ll just check it then,” he called back.

“You do that, sir.”

He walked back to the hulking EXO-13, eyeing the tie-downs carefully. They were slugged in properly, so he left them be with just the cursory check. He was more interested in the emergency supply compartments, actually, so that was his first stop. He popped the compartment and breathed a sigh, pulling out the gravity rifle inside. He certainly didn’t want to “misplace” the gift he’d received from the admiral on Ranquil, not when it was proving so damned useful.

That checked, he slipped the weapon back into the compartment and closed it up again.

Well, may as well do the diagnostics while I’m here.

An order from his suit brought the war machine online as he hauled himself up into the cockpit, computers whirring to life as they began the process of counting down every single relay and system. Eric knew that there were probably only minutes to go before they had their final orders cut, so it was time to make sure everything was in order.

The Sun broke over the horizon, its first golden rays casting across the airfield.

It was going to be a beautiful day.

The President looked over the map that was now threatening to turn completely red, particularly around the center of the nations he oversaw.

“General.”

“Yes Mr. President?” An ashen-faced man looked up and over.

“Give the order.”

“Yes sir.”

The general leaned back over the station he was overseeing and nodded to the operator. The young woman swallowed, but nodded resolutely as she opened a channel.

“All units, Operation Fire Bath is go. I say again, Operation Fire Bath is go.”

The President of the Confederation looked on, a sick feeling welling in the depths of his stomach.

Just so few words is all it takes to unleash so much destruction.

He turned and walked out of the room.

There was nothing more he could do there. It was in the hands of others now.