Lothrak gazed up, watching the horizon with an eager smile on his face as the human craft drew ever closer, viewing it through the real-time 3-D display granted to him by his armour's sensors.

He, his fellow Wardens, Lady Taneera, and the rest of her diplomatic entourage were now standing by the landing platform, a few metres from where the human craft would touch down. He gripped the controls of his armour tightly, feeling the leather-wrapped handles press against his palms while anticipation radiated through him.

Lady Taneera had made a true effort to show the power of the Empire, even within this small gathering. He and his fellow Wardens stood at the back, towering over everyone who stood ahead of them. Taneera herself was closely surrounded by a group of female aides, all of them as well-dressed as she was, their tails, horns and faces decorated with jewellery and accentuated by ceremonial scalepaint.

Meanwhile, twenty Xan-Klar soldiers were lined up in perfectly symmetrical rank formation, still as stone as they stood to attention. Each warrior's gear was polished to a shine and decorated with trophies of previous battles and hunts. Sirthon jawbones, animal skulls and ribbons of coloured cloth torn from the flags of the Republic, their faces and horns covered by battle-helmets hid their faces from every enemy who might face them.

And, just beside Taneera, a green-scaled Xan-Klar woman held the imperial banner. The standard's long wooden haft was gripped firmly in her clawed hand, reaching quite a distance over her head. Then, at the top, the dark-blue and jet-black flag of the Xan-Klar Empire spread out for all to see, the white symbol of a Xan-Klar head at its centre gleaming like crystal ivory.

Lothrak felt a pang of envy as he looked upon the warriors, eyeing their trophies of war with a sad expression upon his face. But when he saw the flag of Empire, those thoughts slithered away and were replaced with pride and patriotism. And he stood eager to serve his country by guarding this meeting with his life, just as any true Warden should.

His three-eyed gaze trailed slightly to the left, watching the growing silhouette of the human ship. Before long, the smooth-looking and strangely made craft was hovering just above them, its pale grey body slowly descending to arrive upon the landing platform. The craft's design was sleek, but it looked dainty and decorous. Definitely not fit to carry any warriors into battle.

Warriors like Kormac Telgaiur. The unborn brother. He had fought beside the Xan-Klar in this very city just one year past.

The imperial flag billowed madly as the thrust from the vessel's engines kicked up a huge wind that blasted out across the landing platform and the Xan-Klar delegation. Jewelled chains, robes and ribbons all fluttered as it happened, but no-one was blown off their feet.

His people, as ever, stood firm and ready in the face of everything that came before them. And as the human ship's landing gear began to extend and touched upon the ground with a gentle hiss and a thud, Lothrak focused his mind.

This was it.

Marcus took a deep breath, standing at the fore as Vidal's ship touched down. A mechanical whirring filled his ears as the hangar bay door folded down in front of him, light beaming straight into his eyes. Squinting and grunting to himself, he averted his gaze until his irises accustomed to the brightness. Then, he turned back towards the opening doorway.

There they were. A pack of thirty Xan-Klar, their ninety eyes looking right at him. Their scales was of all colours, ranging from ruby red to emerald green, each lizard-alien's dermis polished until it gleamed like the stainglass windows of Christian cathedrals. Many of them wore armour and gripped guns tightly in their clawed hands, looking straight on.

However, two things caught his attention. Looming in the back were three of the infamous Xan-Klar Knights, the mechanical construction of their armour towering four metres high, dwarfing everything around them. They were painted in scarlet red and burnished gold, shields fixed to their left arms while their bodies bristled with weapon systems.

Meanwhile, standing at the front of the group, under the shaded of the billowing Xan-Klar flag held beside her, was the one Marcus had seen in the file Vidal had given him. Her shimmering blue-green scales and curving horns were decorated in jewellery and golden clasps. Some even hung from the long, coiling tail that was held high behind her back, its tip visible over her broad shoulders. Fine clothes of woven cloth covered her body, reaching from her chest to her digitigrade legs that ended in three-toed feet.

Taneera Lasethri.

Marcus hadn't seen a Xan-Klar face-to-face for over a year – but he had never forgotten what they looked like.

Stepping out of the ship, he marched down the sloping surface that was once the hangar door and approached the Xan-Klar. He heard the tramping of his boots upon the metal, then heard it echoed several times over as his troops followed behind him. Still looking ahead, he watched Lady Lasethri stride confidently towards him, trailed by a group of other Xan-Klar whose horns curved down behind their heads.

Soon, he and Lady Lasethri were standing face to face, with Marcus looking into her three green eyes. She was just as tall as he was, a few inches higher than the average man, and their gazes were level with each other. Her teeth glistened in the light of the midday sun, over an inch long and as sharp as steak knives.

There was a brief silence as Marcus gently rubbed his palms through his gauntlets. And then, he spoke.

"Lady Taneera Lasethri." He said, bowing his head to her, but still standing tall. "It is an honour to meet you at last." He spoke in a firm and clear tone – a soldier's tone.

The Xan-Klar female ran her eyes up and down his figure before her scaled lips smiled and she lowered her head in kind. "Unborn Brother," she replied. "The honour is ours."

Her voice was deep and resonant, while her mouth moved in completely different shapes to the words that Marcus heard – an effect of the translating implant inside his skull that was replacing the Xan-Klar language with the human language. Looking at the noblewoman, Marcus saw an earpiece clipped to the right side of her head, just below one of her gold-shod horns.

No doubt that was translating his words for her.

Marcus gave a polite smile as the alien greeted him. "Thank you for coming to meet with us." He continued the opening of these negotiations while man and alien alike watched him. Looking at her finery and the city around him, he said "I see the Xan-Klar Empire has prospered since the war's ending."

Lady Taneera nodded. "Indeed we have. Under Emperor Skaldrak's rule, our people have known greatness like never before." She gazed out across the vast cityscape of Kenostros from the landing platform, pride glistening in her viridescent eyes. Marcus bit his gums at the mention of Emperor Skaldrak, but followed her gaze as she turned to view the city.

The city had been fully repaired, no longer a smoking and war-torn ruin. But Xan-Klar iconography could be seen everywhere, from banners to towering statues of reptilian warriors.

Taneera then turned back to Marcus. "And you, Unborn Brother? How fares your Union of Worlds?" she asked.

Marcus met her gaze. "It fares as well as can be expected, following such a major war." He replied. "We have remained strong, but still have much to do."

The noblewoman smiled, but her three eyes narrowed. "Interesting." To his surprise, her gaze then drifted over his shoulder to look at his troops, who were all lined up in ranks beside Ambassador Vidal. "You bring your troops to this meeting, Unborn Brother?"

Marcus replied. "Yes-"
"Good." Taneera cut him off. "You negotiate through strength... as any true warrior should."

Major Winter wanted to correct her, but knew that doing so might damage their chances at the continued negotiation. So he kept his mouth shut and, instead, looked behind Lady Taneera.
"I see you have done the same," he commented.

Taneera glanced behind her. "Indeed. My personal guard, drawn from the local police force, and three knights of the Order of the Fireheart Wardens." She lifted her gaze to look at the towering armoured warriors, and then back at Marcus. "Shall we begin the walk to this 'embassy' that your people have constructed, or would you like to inspect my troops up close?"

Marcus' reply came instantly. "Let's negotiate. However, I'm afraid I won't be leading these affairs..." he explained.

Taneera looked at him, her eyes widening into a quizzical look. "Your meaning?" she asked, her smile vanishing.

Marcus swallowed, the turned his body sideways. "Lady Lasethri, allow me to introduce Ambassador Louis Vidal, representative of the Foreign Office and the Union Senate."

He held out his hand, and Taneera watched as Ambassador Vidal stepped forward, a wide smiling gracing the Earther's moustached face. However, as he moved, the rough pink skin and four glowing eyes of Haraq were revealed.

In that very instant, every Xan-Klar on the landing platform turned their gaze in the Sirthon's direction, locking onto him with murderous intent. An ebon-black claw suddenly jolted from each of Lady Taneera's fingertips, her teeth flared as her throat released a menacing growl, and the troops of her house guard gripped their guns tighter, their hands hovered over the triggers...