40
Tomiko nudged him and pointed to the back where what had to be a dozen MDS IBHUs entered the hall. “Told you.”
“I never doubted you in the least,” he said as he studied them.
He’d heard the rumors, of course, but none of the details. It wasn’t fair to call them the MDS version of an IBHU Marine, he quickly realized. They seemed more like a slimmed-down version of a mech Marine that mated with a Ninety-nine in a power-assist frame. The soldiers were almost completely encased with some kind of armor, but he could see their faces and various patches of what looked like skin.
And despite his low opinion of all of those who’d asked if he could beat one of them in a fight, he couldn’t help but wonder that right now. None had what he could discern as a weapon, but they looked pretty impressive nonetheless.
He could feel their eyes on him and the rest of the IBHUs. Not knowing if they would be back to the ship—and more likely for the Union to show them off—they had been ordered to don their IBHUs, and as usual in this case, they were at the ends of the rows. The Mad Dogs couldn’t miss them.
The Manifest Destiny Sphere and Perseus Union had long been strategic adversaries, and they’d clashed in open war several times over the centuries, so it was difficult for Rev not to consider the question. Luckily, that was only an academic question for now. The Union and the MDS were allies, coming together with the rest of humankind to defeat the Centaurs.
And after six long days in the Home System, it looked like that might finally be about to happen. They’d gotten the message to proceed to Enceladus where the Marines were taken off and brought into the vast underground fortress that was the beating heart of the military might of humankind. Titan had the vast and bloated government agencies, but Enceladus was from where humanity’s might operated.
That’s not actually true, Rev had to remind himself as they’d been taken on a rail system to the vast hall being filled with thousands of people from militaries spread across human space. The complex on Enceladus was impressive, but the real might of humanity was spread across the nations that made it up. Here was where operations against the Centaurs were planned and coordination made, but with only a fleet and a division within the Home Guard, it did not directly command a strong military force.
Rev never thought he’d ever make it to this exalted headquarters. He was just a kid from the nether planets, hoping he could land an apprenticeship with the BOTC. And now look where he was.
And then it was taken up a notch when a voice said, “Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for the Council-General of Humanity.”
Rev spun around, Mad Dogs forgotten, and a group of people walked in, led by a familiar figure as she walked down the aisle to the front, passing not two meters from Rev. His mother wasn’t much of a fan of the Council, but even she would be impressed that her baby boy had been that close to so much power.
“See if there is a public recording of this, and if there is, get a still of her passing me.”
<Roger. I’ll monitor what is released.>
Rev was sure that the meeting itself would be classified about a million ways, but the grand entrance was something the CoH liked to release so that the population knew that it was working for all humankind. And with all the attention on the crisis, more people . . .
Rev gulped. It was very possible that hundreds of billions of people might see Rev as the Council-General walked past him. It was too unreal to take in.
The great one took her seat, not addressing the crowd. A few moments later, another civilian, this one a slender middle-aged man in a bright blue whipple suit, complete with oversized lapels, stepped to the front.
“Citizens of humanity, I am Third Council Reuben Tsao-Miller,” he said with a distinct Hégémonie accent. “We are gathered here because of the insult the Scutum-Centaursians have inflicted upon us, a culmination of the war they’ve raged against all of humanity. And I use the word insult, but rest assured, it is more than that. Our Mother, our spiritual home, is in great danger. What the Scutum-Centaursians are doing could very well destroy the planet.”
There were gasps and more than a few shouts. The third council waited until they died out. “I am here to tell you that we will not idly stand by, hoping that the Centaurs will come to their senses and ask to negotiate. But we cannot bring to bear our full might against them for fear of what they seemed poised to do in response to the cradle of humanity.
“What we can do, however, is surgically remove the infection, minimizing any harm to the Mother. We believe we have the scalpels,” he said, waving a hand in the general direction of the Marines and Mad Dogs.
“If that doesn’t work, well, we can always escalate. But rest assured, we will not stand for alien scum on sacred soil.”
There were cheers as people jumped to their feet, Rev and the rest of the Marines among them. The third council’s speech might not have been the most elegant in history, but it delivered the goods. Humanity was ready to strike, and the Raiders were the tip of the spear.