“We’re at thirty percent now, Commander. I wouldn’t go any higher yet. Give me a few hours to do some stress testing and review how the repairs are holding up under the pressure of actual operation. Then we can move up, to fifty, maybe even sixty.” The engineer paused. “That’s the best we’ll be able to do, I’m afraid, Commander. The patches simply aren’t strong enough to hold up at any higher thrust level. I’m afraid Invictus is going to need completely new engines when we get back home.”

The com was silent for a few seconds, and Cinatus was tense, waiting for the commander’s response. “Sixty,” she said, finally. “Get me sixty percent, Raban…and not one watt less.” There was no question in her tone, no sign of flexibility.

“Yes, Commander…sixty percent.” Cinatus stood nervously, wondering if he’d just promised more than was possible. But he’d heard the commander’s tone, and he knew he could throw all the laws of physics and the realities of engineering at her…and she would just stare at him calmly and repeat…sixty percent.

*   *   *

Damn.

Millius stood in the dark, filthy snow in the middle of the camp staring off to the north. It couldn’t be. It just wasn’t possible.

Millius had fought in many battles, worked his way up from the ranks, but he’d never encountered an enemy so frustratingly difficult to defeat. He’d interrogated the civilians who’d fallen into his hands, had his people pick through the burnt wreckage of the Confederation base…everything he could think of to find out what he was truly facing. But the answer he found never changed. There were about forty Marines assigned to Santis, and his people had wiped out ten of them on the space station.

He’d struggled to accept that his three centuries had been stymied trying to hunt down thirty Confederation Marines. Granted, they’d had some civilians bolstering their number, but his forces still outnumbered them five or six to one. Almost ten to one in trained fighters. And yet a month later they were still in arms, at least a stubborn remnant of them.

And now they’re getting reinforcements…

There was no other explanation. Invictus was the only Alliance vessel within eight transits, and he already had every stormtrooper it carried down on the surface with him. The vessels he’d just watched land had to be Confeds.