Marcus and the knight returned to where the attack had begun to see a grim and sorry sight.

The ground was crusted with flaking patches of dark red and deep purple – the dried blood that had been spilt amidst the mayhem. Tongues of fire lashed out from within the wreckages of the fallen War Mechs, crystals of jet-black ash seeping from the open cockpits as the stink of burnt flesh flooded the air. Dust and rubble coated everything, from the armour of those that remained to the deluge of corpses littering the roadway.

Human and Xan-Klar both lay dead, their armour and bodies rent asunder. Some were still whole, some had missing limbs, and some were unrecognisable. Those who still had faces seemed to glare back at Marcus, their faces frozen in eternal screams of silent, beleaguered agony.

Amidst this carnage, the Xan-Klar dead were much the same. But there were no living Sirthon in sight. All that remained were the bodies of those who had fought and died. Mere minutes ago, they were living and breathing. Now they lay beside their foes upon the ground of the world they were trying to reclaim.

Enemies in life. Equals in death.

Marcus' gaze then turned from those who had fallen, to those still standing. The Orbital Commandos had opened their helmets, the faces beneath their visors daubed with sweat.

Jennifer was the first one he noticed, her hand reaching out and pulling Leon back onto his feet. A stream of blood trailed down from a gash on her forehead, running over her nose and pooling around her mouth. Her teeth glinted red, but she paid it no mind, instead concentrating on getting the Company back in order.

Next was Ferro, his rifle still gripped in his hands and his helmet pulled off his head. Still-wet Sirthon blood coated his armour, with speckles of it dotting his face. He stood with one foot upon a death Sirthon's chest, an icy look of cold, calculated fury lining his face as he gazed the dead alien in the eyes. Then, aiming his gun, Ferro blasted the deceased creature's head with a solid bolt of plasma, scorching it into dust.

Nearby, Elizabeth was hard at work, kneeling over a Commando as she tried to stabilise him. She didn't look her patient in the eye, only looked at his wounds - seven gaping ruptures in his belly and chest, a pool of crimson forming around him and growing larger with each passing second. His exposed organs pulsed beneath Elizabeth's hands as she spread medical regen-gel over his body, hoping that she could seal his wounds in time.

Leon, Arjun, Ichiro and others were nowhere to be seen. At least, not immediately...

Marcus landed with both feet upon the ground. He and the Xan-Klar knight had flown back, carrying those they had saved in their arms. Placing Vidal down, Marcus hurried over to Jennifer. As she saw him, his Captain's face lit up with relief, and the two of them embraced.

"Thank god..." Jennifer said, almost weeping as she wrapped her arm's around Marcus' body and pulled him close.

"Don't worry, Jenn. I'm fine." Marcus replied.

Jennifer let go of him and stepped back, breathing heavily. Meanwhile, Ferro noticed Marcus' arrival. But instead of a welcoming his commanding officer back, he continued to blow open the heads of dead Sirthon, giving the Horusan no more than a quick, cursory glance.

Marcus looked around, his body rippling with anxiety as he continued to behold the carnage that had been wrought upon Sirtha Prime. A creeping dread began to rise within him as he saw that there were far less Commandos still breathing, and even less still walking.

"How many dead?"

As those words escaped Marcus' throat, Jennifer's face fell. She said nothing, instead turning her gaze to the floor, her eyes locking shut as her face went as a pale as those for the corpses around them.

"Jenn?" Marcus said as he turned toward his second-in-command.

Jennifer looked back up at him, and her blood-soaked lips parted. The words that came out of her mouth seemed to hurt her as she said them.

"Twenty-two... And nine more injured."

"Twenty-three."

Major Winter and Captain Sakong both turned to see Elizabeth stand up, a sigh escaping her lips as she looked down at her patient.

Marcus recognised the soldier she was trying to treat instantly from his blonde hair, long face and cat-green eyes. Tim Haley, an engineer's son from the planet Janus. His wounds were beginning to close, the flesh and skin reforming over his injuries. But it had not happened fast enough to keep him from succumbing to blood loss. His body had gone limp, slumping down upon the ground, and his eyes had rolled back in his skull.

Elizabeth touched her forehead, her belly, and then each of her shoulders – the sign of the Christian cross. "Lord, look kindly upon this man, your servant. And when he arrives at the gates of eternity, may his just soul pass into your keeping. Amen."

Continuing to look around, Marcus' heart trembled, his very blood seeming to quiver inside his veins.

Over half of his company was gone. Over half of the men and women he was responsible for – dead.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Ambassador Vidal approach him. "I'm sorry, Major" he said in a quiet, respectful tone.

All the humans present went silent for a moment...

But then, a cacophony of bellowing roars tore through the moment of mourning. Spinning around, Marcus saw the Xan-Klar gather into a large group, baring their claws and blasting growling cheers of approval from their fanged mouths. Meanwhile, the Xan-Klar Knights, including Lothrak, remained in their armour, towering silently over their fellows as they continued to stand ready for battle. As the Major watched, he saw Lothrak extend his hands down towards the rest of his kind, carefully returning Lady Taneera to the ground with one hand and casually dropping Haraq into the dirt with the other.

The moment Haraq hit the ground, he was suddenly hoisted back onto his feet by two Xan-Klar. But before the Sirthon could even breathe, the reptilian aliens began to brutally beat him, gathering around and cackling as they did so. Scaly fists punched his stomach, their claws slashed his skin, and their talon-tipped toes punched holes into his flesh as he was kicked from every angle.

"Hey!" Marcus' voice boomed. Striding forwards, he barged into the group of Xan-Klar and shoved them aside. "That's enough!"

One of the aliens swiped at Marcus with his claws, only for Marcus to block the blow against his right arm and then punch the Xan-Klar in his scaly gut. A guttural roar burst from the creature's throat as it slumped forward, allowing Marcus to grip the alien in both hands and throw it back. As it landed in a crumpled heap, another Xan-Klar struck at Marcus, only for Jennifer to step forward and knock the attacker out with a clean right hook that scattered knife-like teeth across the blood-soaked ground.

All the other Xan-Klar soldiers brandished their guns, their aggression only mildly temped when Lady Taneera came forward out of the crowd.

"Unborn Brother, what is the meaning of this?!" she bellowed.

Marcus met her gaze without fear. "I told you, there's been enough death!" he shouted furiously.

"Attack my guards again, and the next death will be yours." Taneera retorted firmly, the growling of her guards echoing over her words.

Marcus grimaced, but lowered the volume of his voice. "What are you doing with Haraq?" he asked in a firm, but even tone.

"As you said, we need information from him." Taneera replied. "As such, this Sirthon will be spared the death he deserved. Instead, we will take him back to the Sanctuary of the Fireheart Wardens."

"And what will you do to him?" Marcus inquired.

The Xan-Klar looked him dead in the eyes. "Interrogation, torture... whatever is necessary. We will find who this alien collaborated with, locate his superiors among the Hand of Reclamation... and we will put them to the sword."

Jennifer frowned, while Marcus' grimace turned into a glare.

"Apologies, Lady Lasethri, but this is unacceptable!" A voice suddenly echoed. Turning his head, Major Winter saw Ambassador Vidal striding towards them. "Haraq is a citizen of the Human Union of Worlds! Therefore, he falls under our jurisdictio-"

"Stop mewling, you cowardly worm!" Taneera snapped her jaws at him, her eyes blazing like flames as she stared Vidal down. The wounds on her face had clotted into large, black scabs. "I had the displeasure of being beside you in that truck as you whimpered and begged for your life! If you have not the courage to defend yourself, you cannot defend another!"

"My la-" Vidal began to reply.

"Silence!"

Vidal's eyes widened and he backed away. He looked up at Marcus, as if pleading for aid. As Haraq and all the Xan-Klar soldiers looked on, Marcus stepped between the two dignitaries who had moments ago, been discussing peace between their two species.

"Leave Ambassador Vidal alone, Lady Lasethri."

Taneera turned her gaze back to Marcus, her mouth hanging open in a slight gawp, as though she was appalled by what she was seeing. "Tell me, Unborn Brother, is it normal for humans to come to the defence of cowards and terrorists?" she asked. "My kind took you for a warrior. Perhaps we were wrong on that front..."

Jennifer fumed. "Marcus is more of a warrior than you'll ever be, you-" she began, her face red with fury. But Marcus placed a hand on her armour's chest, cutting off her words. The tall Horusan glanced at her, his gaze speaking for him as he told Jennifer to stay back.

Taneera growled and watched as Jennifer halted her advance. Then, she and Marcus, met gazes for a final time.

"What are your terms, Lady Lasethri?"

"There will be no terms, Major Marcus Winter." The Xan-Klar noble replied. "We will take this wretch back with us whether you like it or not. If want him for yourself, you can pry him from the cold, dead claws of me, the Wardens and these soldiers of the Xan-Klar Empire. Do this, however... and there will be war."

Marcus stood as still as stone when those words reached his ears. A thousand memories of fire, blood and anguished shot across his eyes. Visions of carnage like this attack stretched across a hundred worlds, with no-one spared. Mercy and justice wiped away in the face of another galactic conflict.

The Major's eyes glanced at Haraq, who was still gripped in the talons of two Xan-Klar soldiers. His body was already bloodied and scarred, his body now dripping blood from the wounds the Xan-Klar had cut into his body.

Marcus felt sorry for the Sirthon... but he knew what he would have to say.

Another war? One life versus billions? Nothing was worth that.

And so, with a sigh, Marcus replied. "Alright... you can have him."

Taneera gave a scaly-lipped smile. "Thank you, Major. You may no longer be an Unborn Brother after this... but at least you still have your life."

Ambassador Vidal protested, but it was already too late. Marcus, Jennifer and what remained of the SOSC 5th Company watched as Haraq was hauled away. Meanwhile, the rest of the Xan-Klar collecting their wounded under the watch of the Fireheart Wardens before turning and marching away. Soon, they disappeared around a street corner, never to return.

Human medical craft soon swept in from the sky ahead, the rush of their engines turning the air around the Commandos into a thunderous typhoon. As the dead and wounded were prepared to be transported away, Marcus took a fleeting look at Kenostros.

A year ago, he had ended a war here.

Was another already on the horizon?