Lieutenant Welkin Gunther of Squad 7 surveyed the carnage of Marberry with a weary gaze. Corpses of Imperial soldiers, twisted heaps of armor and cold meat, littered the inner encampment. A few shell craters from the Edelweiss's gun were ringed with broken limbs and shards of metal that glinted in the morning sun, the only reminders of the men that had once stood there.

It hadn't been a battle after they had penetrated the beach, but a rout. Sergeant Alicia – his second-in-command, elite scout, and much, much more – had done a good job, leading a few handpicked fighters in outflanking the disorganized garrison that had occupied the encampments. Pinning the bulk of the Imperial force down, all she and her forces had had to do was keep them there as Squad 7's armor crushed them in a single move.

Welkin twisted his mouth. Crushing it had been. He knew he couldn't give quarter – his smallish squad of militia couldn't possibly maintain that many prisoners and hope to continue the operation. And yet it was sickening to see trained soldiers reduced to fleeing animals, animals which he was ordered to cut down to the last man. It's not what nature intended. No other species in the world will systematically eliminate other members of its own race just because another said to.

At least some of them had gotten away. When the routed Imperials had split into two groups, one escaping straight past Alicia's detachment, the other running straight between her and Welkin's positions, he had opted to close the vise so that at least some life could be spared. It would have been so easy to order Alicia to pursue – with their quick speed and training, they could have run every last man into the dust, and the Edelweiss and Shamrock, Squad 7's lighter tank, would have been able to take down a mob of broken Imperial troops without aid. It's a crime to have to end so much life, even if it is Imperial. He thought of earlier, when he and Alicia had been separated from the rest of Squad 7.

They had found an abandoned cabin, through which to spend the night. Suddenly, he started. Footsteps from outside. Minutes later, the two of them were doing the best they could to save a wounded Imperial soldier's life, watching helplessly as he cried out in pain, calling for his mother. Alicia taking on that role, bringing a last moment of peace to him as he died.

Next to him, his adopted sister, Corporal Isara Gunther, tinkered with something underneath the Edelweiss. The advanced tank had been battered in the assault, but not a single direct hit had been scored – between Isara's newly developed smoke rounds to cover their approach and the Edelweiss's own maneuverability and sloped armor, moving past the beach guns had been a cakewalk compared to penetrating on foot.

"Is?"

"Hold on," Isara said, still working. "Let me finish." A scrape, some clicking, and a solid whack. Welkin raised an eyebrow, and crouched down, wondering just what she was doing, but by then Isara had wheeled herself out from underneath the experimental, heavily modified tank on a roller. She wiped her sweat-covered brow with a greased glove, smearing on a layer of grime, blue-black like her hair – Darcsen. "What, Welks?"

"Why are we here?"

Isara blinked at the unexpected question, but sat up, resting her back against the massive tread – Welkin stood back up, leaning against the adjacent section. "I'm surprised. You're asking me? You were the one who signed up for the militia in the first place, and, well, I came with the Edelweiss."

"I know what was enlisted for, Is," he growled. She gasped a bit in stress – he never sounded like this very often. "I enlisted to end the war as fast as I could. But this?" Welkin spread his arms, emphasizing the ruins of the battlefield, and sighed. "This is slaughter, and what we've done is protect our industrial facilities… so that we can continue this war anyways. Why haven't we negotiated yet?" He dropped them heavily, bitter – and angry. "Are we going to meet them head-on, as if we dared crush the military might of the Empire?"

"Welks, you know that we don't need to defeat them all, you said it yourself. What did you say?" The mechanic suddenly smiled and clapped her gloved hands, a wrench still clasped in one. "Oh, yes! A wolf confronted will back away, even from a rabbit."

"But when the rabbit charges forward after making its point, the wolf will still kill it anyways." He dropped a fist onto the tread of his fighting vehicle, not hard, but still angrily. "That's what's going to happen, Is, the way our orders read now."f

She tightened her own mouth. "Well then, Welks, that's just what's going to happen. The Empire may be the big bad wolf, but there's an even more insidious snake in Europa right now." She stabbed her wrench at a group of soldiers, beside the wall of a bunker. One was his sergeant Alicia,– the other two were hulking, bearded Largo, his senior lancer leaning against his namesake antitank weapon, and Rose, the red-haired fearless shocktrooper, automatic rifle slung across her back. The Darcsen tank commander, Zaka, was nowhere to be seen, although he was probably inside of his beloved Shamrock, fiddling with the insides. The wrench seemed to be pointing at Rosie in particular.

"People like her are the true reason we have war. They can't release their prejudices against others, and see everyone as human beings, even when it's clear that they're false and damaging," she snapped, though she softened as she continued. "I just hope I change them… I gave Rosie a gift for the Feast of All-Spirits," naming the holiday where gifts were exchanged to those one loved and care for, "but she refused…" she trailed off.

As if that was the end of their discussion, she laid back down, sliding underneath once more. "Now if you'll excuse me, brother, I've work to do. The Edelweiss may not be damaged, but the new tread is loose again." Another series of clicks, pings, and a grinding sound floated out; with another sigh, Welkin stood up and let her work unfettered. He needed to discuss the operation's results with Alicia anyhow… and he smiled, nodding to her as he appfroached the sergeant, his own bright expression reflected in her own.