Stockton listened as his friend made the report. He knew the assault shuttles were coming up now, that Dauntless’s hundred Marines would be landing within minutes. He saw faces in his mind, men and women he’d played cards with, and one or two he’d had altercations with. But now he wished them all well…even that snotty little corporal he was still sure had pulled that card from his sleeve…

“Okay, odds, follow me to Lyra. Raptor, you take the evens to Assul. Let’s clear away the rest of these things and get back to the ship.”

“Roger that, Thunder. Evens on me. Let’s go finish the job.”

*   *   *

“What the hell is that? Enemy reinforcements?” Joe Thoms was standing outside the cave staring up at the sky. It was almost dawn, and the dark still clung thick over the frozen hillsides. But the streaks in the sky were unmistakable, fiery trails that could only be one thing.

Clete Hargraves stepped out onto the ledge, holding a small foil bag in one hand. Wisps of steam escaped from the small package. The combat rations were heated through a small chemical reaction, one the Marines decided was too insignificant a heat source to be detected. After a month in the bone-chilling cold without so much as a campfire to keep warm, the eight survivors of Santis’s garrison almost didn’t care anymore. More than one Marine had broken down and tried to start a fire. But Hargraves had stood firm, preventing anyone from breaking discipline, with rousing words if they proved sufficient…and with iron fists if they didn’t.

“Those are landers alright, but they’re different from the ones the enemy used. I’d almost swear those are…”

“Sarge, we’re getting a transmission on Marine priority channel one.” Buck Miller came rushing out of the tent, a stunned look on his face. “We’ve got friendlies inbound, Sarge!”

Hargraves let out a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the glowing trails slashing across the sky. Could it be? After so long? It had been a rough time for the Marines, especially since the attack on the tritium facility. That raid had achieved some success, but nothing close to knocking the refinery offline. He had no question that production had been cut, but he was equally certain there was still tritium flowing into the almost full storage tanks. In the end, he doubted if the raid had been worth the lives it had cost. But that hadn’t stopped them from trying again, with even less success and greater loss the second time.