"LT, if we can't get down there and call for help, it won't matter," Enders said. "They're not going to just hold the high ground and let us run around down here indefinitely. Eventually, their reinforcements are going to show up or they'll enact a more permanent plan, and we're fucked anyway."

"So, you understand what's at stake."

"Yeah," Enders sighed. "We're as ready as we're going to be. Go ahead and pop the door, and let's get this party started."

"Once you can confirm the security zone is clear, we'll bring the XO down so he can get us through the blast doors," she said as she slipped a card into a slot below the keypad and punched in a ten-digit code.

"Can't wait," Enders said, stretching his wounded shoulder out and pulling a flash-bang grenade from his harness. "1^st Squad! On your feet! It's time to earn your pay. Single file column going down, one meter intervals. It's going to be close-quarters, so watch your lanes and don't shoot your partner in the ass."

"Get it done, Marines," Pritchett said as the door popped open and swung inward.

11

"Broadsword is taking the lead, forty-eight minutes to intercept, Admiral."

"Thank you, Commander."

Jackson had just walked back onto the bridge a few hours before first watch would come back on duty. He'd grabbed a hot meal and almost five hours of uninterrupted sleep and felt recharged. Something told him that whatever was going to happen in this system, today would be the day.

It still didn't look like the Alliance fleet was too concerned about the warships bearing down on them, and there was no way they could miss Risher's force at that range. The Super Valkyrie-class was stealthy but not invisible. The reactor exhaust and engine signatures would be lighting up their passive sensors, and the gravimetric wake would be easily detectable. He checked the taskforce telemetry stream over the Link and nodded in approval as he saw Risher had ordered a mild deceleration, now moving cautiously for the last small stretch before either ship could exchange fire.

"Commander…er, Admiral," the third watch com officer said. "We have something from the surface. They claim to be the Marine detachment for the base."

"Have they been authenticated?" Jackson asked, walking over quickly to the com station. Commander Franks moved back to the center of the bridge while Jackson concentrated on the com station.

"Yes, sir. Two-step verification shows it to be authentic. It's coming up as a two-way audio channel request," she said.

"Give me a headset," Jackson said, deciding he might not want whatever was happening down on Exeter Base to be the next day's gossip aboard the Saber just yet. "Go ahead."

"You're on with Admiral Wolfe, sir," the com officer said before disconnecting herself from the channel.

"Wolfe?! Thank God! This is Colonel Alto Serra, United Terran Federation Marine Corps," the voice sounded calm but tired.

"The situation down there, Colonel?" Jackson asked.

"The base was attacked by an unknown force beginning thirty-two hours ago," Serra said. "They were well-organized but origins unknown. They're carrying antiquated weapons that look like they could be old stock from the Asianic Union, but the soldiers we've encountered don't appear to be AU citizens, and they're not carrying any identification other than the fraudulent credentials they used to get on the base.