The other admirals met him on the captured vessel’s bridge.

G’nax, Davrin and Al Enui walked through the improvised hatchway, careful to hold their cloaks and mantles above the drying blood on the floor of the chamber. Twelve enemy bodies lay in a pile before the bridge's central control plinth. Three terran warriors lay where they had fallen, and next to each a living warrior held vigil until the time came when the company could conduct its honorary funeral rites.

The alien warlords entered with looks of disgust writ large upon the features. G’Nax held a square of scented fabric over his olfactory organs. Justinius knew Huronites possessed a famously astute sense of smell, but the affectation gave G’Nax the air of a snooty noble, and Justinius fought down a condescending smirk.

When their eyes fell upon his splattered armour, their expressions of disgust deepened, and mixed with significant apprehension.

“The ship is ours,” Justinius began, “My men are rounding up the last of the crew, and putting down any final attempts at resistance.”

Al Enui, the most boisterous of the three, was the first to respond.

“Well done Commander. We were up against the wall there for a second.”

G’Nax lowered his handkerchief, and nodded. For a moment Justinius thought he might lose his lunch. Instead the Huronite spoke.

“Just so. Though I must admit this scene is…it’s not the way we usually conduct our business.”

Arrogant ass, Justinius thought. Instead he shrugged.

“I admit the bladework is a bit sloppy in places, I’ll make sure the squad leaders drill the troops hard when we’re back on our home decks.”

Admiral Davrin walked over to the bodies of one of the Company, kneeling to touch the armour of Squad Leader Cassius, who had been killed in the final charge on the bridge. Cassius was missing the greater part of his torso, having been felled by an energy weapon discharge. His vigil keeper, a private called Dominic, clasped the Admirals hand with all the gentleness his power-armour allowed.

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The other Admirals stiffened at the gesture, and Justinius raised his hands placatingly.

“Please don’t touch the bodies of our fallen Admiral. We need to mark the deaths as a company before we move them. The deeds of the fallen are important to us, and we must give a chance for all the men to witness each before we interfere.”

The alien admiral nodded and swallowed, and Dominic released his wrist.

G’Nax turned to Justinius and lowered the register of his voice. “About the home situation...”

Justinius took a step closer to the admiral, and Davrin and Al Enui clustered around.

“The home situation?” Justinius queried.

“We just received word back from command. You’re..You’re being reassigned.”

“I’m being what?” The human questioned.

Davrin cleared his throat. “It’s not by our request Justinius, before you get any ideas. We argued to keep you and your men out in the field with us, but high command seems to have other ideas.”

Al Enui spoke next, shifting the focus from the other admirals. A tactic to try and defuse the tension of the situation. Justinius mentally noted the strategy, and again found himself respecting the subtlety of his fellow commanders. “There’s rumblings about a change-up to the Committees membership.”

“Surely they’re not going to put the Human component on the bench again.”

Al Enui shook his head. “They’d be foolish, especially as you’ve more than proved your value.”

“Then what?” The Terran exclaimed, “We’re busy enough out here. We’re doing our part.”

“We think they’re taking the gloves off.” Al Enui continued, with a directness Justinius appreciated, “You didn’t hear it from us, but there’s talk the committee is going to authorize fully autonomous human deployments. No more being loaned out to committee members.”

“They’re going to deploy us en masse?”

Al Enui nodded, “All they need now is a commander for the forces. Of course we’ll miss your…” He gestured around at the gory scene, “...skillset. But we all gave our endorsement.”

Justinius was stunned. The suggestion that humans could be trusted with their own warships, and the associated remit for destruction would not have been popular with many members of the Galactic committee. It spoke of either a sudden shift in the reputation of human forces, or of significant desperation in the prosecution of the conflict.

Al Enui placed a hand on Justinius’ pauldron, carefully selecting a portion of his armour unfouled by blood.

“Good luck, and give them hell for us.”