Within the city of Kenostros, Lothrak Karugen strode through a large hanger bay on his digitigrade legs, his polished blue scales glistening like refined azurite as the warm glow of the dawn lay its gentle touch upon him. Glancing up, a smile crept onto his scaly lips as his three eyes beheld the pale orange light of the sky.

Most days, the star of Sirtha Prime was a deep and dismal red, like a lightbulb drenched in blood. Barely glimpsed through a thick mire of clouds, the sight of it brought no hope to the hearts of any Xan-Klar. But today, the Sirtha star burned almost as bright as Gruskon, the sun of Tratkaloth – Lothrak's birthworld and home planet of the Xan-Klar.

Was this a sign? An omen that the future of his people would only grow brighter after this day?

He hoped that it was.

Walking further, his gaze trailed upwards towards a sight that towered four metres above him. His battle armour, its red and gold metal plates polished and buffed until they shone like stars, was standing upright in a holding bay – one designed for all the types of battle armour used by the Xan-Klar military.

Every part of it gleamed like gemstones, a fact which gave the young warrior pride. He was representing both his order and the Empire today, and had worked into the morning hours to make sure that the whole thing was impeccably clean.

The old Xan-Klar saying 'Blood is for the battlefield' rang true here. Even amongst his warlike race, the sight of filth would never be respectable.

However, as the newly-dubbed knight gazed closely at his armour, there was something that dampened his pride, the fires of passion in his heart soon doused in cold water as the realisation set in.

Each plate of armour was unmarked by any kind of battle scar – marks of a warrior's true worth. He had not yet faced battle in his own armour, or even faced real battle at all. All of it had been mock combat. From the marching drills and shooting ranges of his early state schooling, to the duels and ritual combat of his knightly training, he had never once been in a true war.

The closest he had ever been was when he and his other squires went on beast hunts. And while stalking a Torvenator through the forests had its thrills, it soon became dull and routine...

Lothrak hung his head. Ever since he was old enough to swing a stick, he had dreamed of joining the field of battle. Of fighting on the front lines amidst the soldiers of the Empire against all who would threaten his species and his nation. To feel the recoil and hear the crack of a plasma gun barrage. The clunking and sparking as his battle armour clashed with whatever the galaxy could throw at him. To feel the surging thrill that would rocket through the Graxir as he and the other Wardens descended upon their foes like a swarm of Skyraptors, cutting all who stood before them to ribbons.

Of course, he was proud to represent the Empire here today... but his heart longed for battle.

"Don't worry, little brother" he heard a familiar voice. "You'll be on the battlefield someday..."

Something tingled on the edge of the Graxir, and Lothrak twisted towards it, straightening his back and lifting his tail from its slumped position on the floor. Looking towards the hangar entrance, he beheld Kathonir stride into his view, black scales glittering like opals and his green eyes burning with confidence. Confidence that Lothrak would one day see battle.

This sensation filled Lothrak with both comfort and doubt – comfort to know that his friend believed in him, and doubt that what he had said would ever come to pass.

"I know, Kath" he replied, looking at the floor as he erred on the side of politeness. He would not insult his brother on their first mission together.

Kathonir stood beside him, the black-scale's right hand resting upon the belt of his sheathed plasma sword. Meanwhile, his left hand patted Lothrak's shoulder, empathy warming both their minds.
"Hey..." Kath said gently. "Eyes forward and snout up."

Lothrak turned to his old friend, his scaly lips curving upward slightly. He said nothing, though. The melancholy in his mind shifting to contentment, sensed through the Graxir, said everything on his behalf. He needed not speak a word.

The two Karugens' attention was suddenly drawn by a loud clanking. Looking up and to the right, they saw another two suits of battle armour being hefted into position alongside Lothrak's. Both were painted in the same colours, the vibrant red and gold of the Fireheart Wardens. The first, also unscarred, was undoubtedly Kathonir's. The second, meanwhile, bore several noticeable scrapes that cut into the paintwork, but they were still polished over.

Standing at that one's feet was a third Xan-Klar knight, his scales as red as bricks and his eyes a silverish-grey colour, just like Lothrak's. It was the third member of the honour guard - Qolvar Karugen.

As his armour was slotted into place, Qolvar quickly turned and strode dutifully towards Lothrak and Kathonir, his right hand gripping his plasma sword as he walked.

Seeing this, Lothrak gripped his own blade, feeling a pang of comfort as his talons closed around the handle of his own plasma sword, which was sheathed at his waist. Even with their armour, all knights carried weapons upon their bodies – in Lothrak's case, a plasma sword and a blaster pistol.

"Are you two ready?" Qolvar asked them, his eyes looking first to Lothrak and then to Kath as he drew near to them.

"Are you kidding?" Kathonir rolled his shoulders and flicked his tail amidst a resonation of confidence. "I can't wait to get started!"

Qolvar raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure, Kathonir? You did drink an awful lot last night..." he said teasingly.

Kath rolled his eyes while Lothrak smirked. The three brothers all stood together, smiling and bolstering each other's courage. All the better for Lothrak, as it was his first mission, and in truth, he was terrified. Of failing the Order and Empire.

But he knew what he had to do, and was ready. Qolvar was a little older than him and Kathonir, and so had de facto command. Kath was next in the chain, with Lothrak at the bottom. They were all indeed Karugens, but as the youngest and newest knight, he had to respect the experience of those who were more veteran than he.

However, of course, there was one they were all mere servants to today...

"Has Lady Taneera arrived yet?" Lothrak asked, a little sliver of hope burning in his mind.

Qolvar opened his mouth to speak, but his left eye suddenly noticed something and turned towards at, the Graxir flaring around his mind. Lothrak and Kathonir also turned, and what they saw made them smile.

Lady Taneera was striding in from outside, followed quickly by a ragged Sirthon slave who carried an item in his outstretched hands. Lothrak watched the female in silence, his tail falling low behind his back. The noblewoman's stride was purposeful, and while he stood a measured distance from her, his starstruck eyes admired her beauty while his emotions remained just out of her mind's reach.

The noblewoman's turquoise scales gleamed like sapphires, dappled jets of light dancing along her body with each move she made. Her body was clad in a fine tunic of silk and golden wire that fit perfectly around her strong body, all of it decorated with jewels and shimmering plates of precious metal. Ritualistic jewellery hung from her tail, which she held high and proud as she walked, her Sirthon slave following in her wake. Her horns were painted in a coat of shining silver and ringed with spiked clasps of solid gold, all glimmering like starfire under the light of the sky.

She was enrapturing.

Lothrak's brothers glared at him, disapproved simmering within them like hot coals. He noted their feelings, and as the lady came nearer and the very first soft touches of her emotions reached his senses, Lothrak muted himself, focusing on his duty to shut down his emotions. He didn't wish to distract his charge from the upcoming meeting, and now was not the time to be romantic.

As if a Xan-Klar as wondrous as her would be interested in an unproven knight like him...

"Karugens." The noblewoman said firmly as she came near the three males. "I trust you are prepared?"

The knights nodded. "Yes, Lasethri," they all said in perfect unison.

Lady Taneera smiled a little, then turned to the Sirthon slave behind her and clapped her claws. The alien instantly stepped forward, its collar and chains rattling as it held out a metal platter. On it were four glasses and a small flask of dark liquid that smelled of spice and liquor.

Lothrak sniffed it. "Gutbrew, my lady?" he asked aloud.

Taneera smiled. "Tomogran vintage, Lothrak Karugen," she said as she poured a glass. "Something to bring us strength for today's meeting with the humans, and Kormac Telgaiur."

Lothrak nodded and took the glass when she offered it to him. She gave one to Kathonir and Qolvar, then poured one for herself before lifting it up in a toast.

"To the Empire!" Taneera said.

"To the Empire!" The Karugens echoed her words, and the four Xan-Klar drank together. The swig was so small that Lothrak had barely to taste it before it had passed down his gullet.

Taneera set her glass back on its platter. "Now, during the meeting, the Kenostros Razkard Police will also be sending a contingent to protect me and clear any crowds. While they help with that, I want you three to be on full-alert for anything suspicious."

There was no fear in her mind as she spoke. Only wisdom and careful consideration.

"Of course, Laesthri." Qolvar replied. "We shall watch for any suspicious Sirthon or humans."

Lady Taneera nodded. "Wise. We have heard rumours of Sirthon scum trying to gain access to this meeting." She turned to the slave beside her and pushed him. "Scum like this one here..." she said jeeringly.

The naked Sirthon stumbled a little on his hooved feet before returning to his meek stance, still holding the platter in his chained hands while his hands gazed at the floor. Over his shoulders, the tips of long, red slash marks could be seen. Gouged brutally into his pink skin like claw marks into a carcass.

Lothrak lowered his gaze a little, then hid his emotions by speaking.
"We will serve you well, Lady," he said firmly. "While there's blood in our veins, our duty remains."

The beautiful noblewoman looked at Lothrak, her face bearing no smile. However, she did nod to him, a little approval glinting in her eyes.
"Well said, young one." Taneera spoke to him before she looked back to Qolvar and addressed the three Karugens as one. "Knights, armour up. We leave at once."

The lady then strode off, with her slave following her obediently. Qolvar and Kathonir also left walking towards where their armour was stowed, talking of the possibilities that lay ahead.

Lothrak, meanwhile, stood still for just a moment. From the landing platform, all Kenostros could be seen, from the palaces and skyscrapers that seemed to reach up towards the clouds, to the packed downtown slums that stretched towards the horizons. The flag of the Empire flew on every pennant and hung from every government building – a reminder of who now ruled the former capital of the Sirthon Republic.

And at the furthest distance that eyes could perceive, perched atop a small hill, was the ancient-looking structure of the Fireheart Sanctuary – the fortress where Lothrak had been knighted just yesterday, its pointed tower-spire glinting in the sun and its stone walls resolutely staving off the rot and mould of Sirtha Prime's swamps.

Pride began to rise within Lothrak's chest, along with a burning desire to act. Turning his head back towards the hangar, he strode towards his armour. Standing side-by-side, he and Kathonir looked at each other and winked before leaping several metres up and landing within the cockpit.

Heaving the door shut and powering up the armour, Lothrak's claws gripped the controls. On his left forearm was a Vraknur heavy fusion cannon, protruding from behind a large rectangular shield of thick plasteel. On his right forearm was a rotary Tygeris blaster minigun. Twin missile pods hugged his shoulders, and both his hands were free to wield plasma greatsword that was slung over his right shoulder.

The holding bay that held him in place suddenly released its mechanical clamps, and the young Xan-Klar took a deep breath. Now was the hour.

"Well... here you go, Lothrak Karugen..." he said to himself, putting a foot forward inside the cockpit. At the same time, his armour took a step forward, its metal foot clunking against the ground with the weight of the upcoming meeting...