2:00 p.m., July 25.
Augustus, wearing a white double-layered silk parka that reached his knees, swept snow from the entrance of Supply Depot No. 7. Beside him stood Raynor in the same outfit, the fur lining around his hood making him sneeze nonstop.
Fort Howe was as bustling as ever that day. Every few minutes, either an army bus packed with workers or a massive space-construction vehicle passed in front of the depot, rushing off to repair the defenses and buildings damaged by the Haigolong Legion, fill roads riddled with shell craters, and recover every wrecked vehicle and fallen marine.
Knowing they could not hold the fort, the Haigolong Legion had caused as much destruction as possible. As a result, the workers would need another week to restore the fort completely.
Most of those workers came from two towns around Fort Howe and the nearest city, while the marines who had rendered outstanding service in defending the fort received several rare days of leave. With nothing to do, the idle soldiers either played cards all day in the barracks or went to the bar district near the fort to cut loose.
Only one man in Augustus's squad had been injured in the battle. That unlucky bastard was Harnack, who had burned both his hands through carelessness while using a Hellfire flamethrower.
The fort was bitterly cold that afternoon. At three o'clock, Augustus and Raynor put down their brooms and boarded a fort bus bound for the command center. Warfield had just called Augustus's personal terminal and told them to come find him there.
Along the way, Augustus saw many workers laying cables and repairing roads. On the night of the eighteenth, Fort Howe had suffered severe losses, forcing the military to recruit additional workers.
There had still been an engineering