'Bullshit.' My disbelief is punctuated by the shrill scream of an incoming marauder bomb. Our eyes meet across the gloom of the tank cabin. The bombardment has been going on since nightfall, the robot weapons hunting on infrared and motion track. In a rare moment -when the Sharyan jamming -went down, we've heard that Admiral Cursitor's IP fleet is still light seconds out, fighting the Sharyans for orbital dominance. At dawn, if the battle isn't over, the locals will probably put down ground troops to flush us out. The odds are not looking good.