He was surprised at the ferocity of the enemy, at their combat effectiveness. He’d never considered the Confeds to be the pushover some in the Alliance did, but he was shocked at the capabilities of the warriors he was facing. They were outnumbered nearly ten to one in actual combatants, at least if the data his people had extracted from the prisoners was accurate. And he was sure it was. His inquisitors had gotten the same information from multiple captives. Their methods had been harsh, and for the most part, the Confeds who had surrendered had broken quickly.

It didn’t make sense. How could some of the enemy be so weak, and yet others could take to the hills, endure the brutal conditions…and fight his veteran troopers to a standstill?

What kind of society is this?

The Marines out there hadn’t so much as lit a fire to ward off the frigid nights, nothing that could give their positions away.

Whatever the Confederation may be, these warriors are not to be underestimated…

Millius reached down and pulled his com unit from the small folding table.

“Optio,” he snapped.

“Yes, sir!”

“Forget my order to double the patrols. I want them tripled.”

“Yes, Praefectus.”

“And all forces are to shoot on sight, regardless of position or numbers. I want those Marines eliminated…whatever the cost!”

*   *   *

“Quiet, all of you.” Hargraves turned his head, looking at the thin column lined up behind him. He had ten Marines with him, and three civilians, techs who knew their way around the tritium tank farm.

He pulled the parka closed around his neck, a futile effort to ward off the cold. It had been freezing enough when they had bugged out of the base, but the weather had made itself their enemy ever since. A new cold front had moved in and stalled over the area, sending temperatures to levels that were low even for frigid Santis. He was proud of his Marines, but it was the civilians who shocked him the most, enduring the cold alongside his people, if with a few more complaints.

I’ve got the enemy to thank for that. Shooting the civvies who surrendered shocked the hell out of the rest…

Hargraves looked down at his feet, watching his step in the near total darkness. The ledge was twenty meters above the crashing sea below. It was narrow, wide enough only for a single file column, and if his people were discovered while still on the lip of rock they were finished—nowhere to run, no way to maneuver. But it was a hidden approach, five meters below the top of the cliff above, and it was the best way to get close enough to the enemy positions to complete the mission.

We’ll be fine. As long as they stay quiet enough…