Returning to the Watchtower should have brought a sense of relief following the battle with Luthor's Metal Men. However, because it was Luthor that was at the center of the matter, it felt like the opening act to something greater.

The damage done to the secret lab should put the business mogul back several weeks, if not a few months. That was time that could be utilized to come up with a more permanent solution. The Amazo database was corrupted beyond repair, along with any backups Luthor may have, so that was no longer an issue. It was entirely likely Luthor would have another Amazo rebuilt, but the moment it began recreating the database, the worm would attack and take care of the matter. Luthor was going to have one hell of a time getting rid of it, if he ever did.

Still, Batman couldn't let up. They were locked into a game with dangerous consequences should he lose it. He did not intend on losing.

Once returned to the Monitor Room, he discovered the computer had completed its translation of the Thanagarian files. Immediately he read them and found he had a new problem at hand.

Along with a return trip to Belle Reve.

Waller was in her office, focused on her computer. It was almost a deja vu moment. So captivated by whatever was on her computer monitor, Batman placed a printed translation of the Thanagarian files on her desk, right next to her phone, and then waited.

He didn't have much of a wait as the phone rang. Waller only spared a glance at the phone before hitting a button on the stand, "Waller," she greeted.

"This is security," a voice replied from the speaker. "One of our sensors is detecting a breach."

Waller turned her head to gaze at the phone. "Then—" she cut herself off abruptly. "Check the sensor. I'll call you back." She hit the same speaker button to silence the phone before she picked up the sheets of paper on her desk. Then she spun her chair to a side so that she could look right at the Dark Knight.

"You know you could have knocked," she said annoyed.

"The files," Batman returned evenly, not even bothering to nod towards the sheets of paper Waller held.

"I gathered." She immediately began reading over them, her eyes darting back and forth over each page. She got to the third page before she demanded, "What the hell is this?"

"Schematics over the Defense Shield Generator," Batman supplied in answer.

"I can see that. The only problem is that according to this, that generator doesn't project a shield like the Thanagarians claim."

Which was the same conclusion Batman had come to when he had first read the translations. According to those schematics, the power generator wasn't projected into the planet's atmosphere, but drawn into the machine. "Whatever they're building out in the Gobi, it's not a shield," the vigilante said.

Waller's grip tightened, causing the papers to crinkle in her grip. "I don't know about you, but I don't like this."

No, he didn't either.

"First thing, we need to discover what the Thanagarians are doing." Waller turned her chair to face her computer, her fingers typing on the keyboard. "I trust you'll be doing your own investigation, correct?"

"Correct."

"Then it would be wise if we were to keep each other in the loop on what we're doing. We can't afford any misunderstandings until we know what we're dealing with." That was a reasonable idea, though considering the strained ties between the Justice League and A.R.G.U.S. at the moment, it would be more difficult than it should be. "I already have a team out there; I'll just send them new details on their mission."

"You're referring to your task force of criminals," Batman surmised.

"Yes, I am." Waller pressed a button on the keyboard. "Lawton, it's Waller."

She was greeted with silence, which shouldn't be unusual. As seconds ticked by without an answer, the woman hit the button again, "Lawton, come in."

Again, silence. "Someone answer me, damn it," she demanded.

It was a few moments before static filled the computer speakers. Someone had turned on their mic, but they weren't speaking. However, there were voices, background ones if Batman were to guess. It took a moment to pick up on what those voices were saying.

The words "Prisoners," and "Cells," along with the sound of marching footsteps indicated just what was happening.

"Mother—" Waller cursed. "Don't tell me those idiots were caught."

"So it would seem." It was clear that whoever turned on the mic—most likely Lawton—was trying to pass along their situation without alerting their captors.

Immediately, Waller brought up a program, one with images of criminals appearing. Batman immediately identified Deadshot, his last name underneath his picture confirming his identity. There was a man in a blue coat with brown hair that had the name Harkless, no doubt Flash's Captain Boomerang. There was also a man in red and yellow named Force, that one Batman didn't know.

The last two were surprising, however. There was Killer Frost, obviously formerly of the Legion of Doom. How she was caught up in this, he didn't know. If the secret prison was any indication, she had been captured at some point and "recruited." The last was even more surprising. He recognized Count Vertigo, one of Ra's Seven Men of Death. Considering how long ago that had been…

Batman scowled. This task force of Waller's had clearly been operating far longer than anyone had mentioned.

Another window appeared on Waller's computer then. It was of a satellite image, clearly of the alleged Defense Shield Generator. A group of five red dots appeared at one part of the map. Waller immediately zoomed in on the dots until she went as close as she deemed necessary. "That's the entire team," she spoke out loud, though whether it was meant for Batman, or she was doing it for herself, was unknown. "And I was starting to like them too."

"What are you doing?" Batman questioned.

"Ensuring those bozos don't talk."

The vigilante's eyes darted back to the screen just as Waller struck a button on the keyboard. Each name under the criminals' names changed to ACTIVE.

In an instant, the Dark Knight was right next to Waller. The short woman was about to strike another key when his hand grabbed hers tightly around the wrist. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded.

"I could ask you the same thing," the dark-clad man growled.

"What is necessary to make certain those criminals don't squeal. Each and every one of them knows what it means to be captured."

Meaning she was going to terminate them—not if he could help it. "You're not going to kill these men," Batman interjected, his tone dropping several octaves as his grip tightened harder on the woman's wrist.

"I can and will," Waller shot back heatedly. "Now let me go, or you're about to find out what it's like to fight every prisoner in this facility."

"And all I'd have to do is break your wrist and then activate every kill switch you've implanted in your prisoners," he returned. "With me in control, I'm very certain they'd be willing to do as I tell them instead of you. I can imagine many of them aren't fans of yours."

The two of them glared at each other, neither one of them willing to budge an inch. Ultimately it was Waller who gave in and asked, "Then what do you propose we do?"

"I'll get them out," he answered.

"And if you fail?" she pressed.

"I'll. Get. Them. Out," he repeated, stressing each and every word.

Waller shifted in her seat, her head turned enough that she was looking at the vigilante from the side of her eyes. "Fine, we'll do it your way. But if you go down, they all go down with you, understand?"

He understood alright. All that meant was that he had no room to fail.

He wouldn't fail.

Releasing his grip on Waller's wrist, he began to make to leave. Before he got far, Waller called out to him. "Before you go, there's something I'd like to know."

Batman stopped, glancing over his shoulder to see Waller had turned her chair so that she could watch him leave.

"When the Tamaraneans brought the World Engine, how did the League not detect it?"

Batman should have walked away. In all honesty, he didn't know. The Watchtower's logs of that time in question were damaged, just like much of the satellite. "I wasn't on the Watchtower at the time," was all he told her.

Waller continued to study him. "Not a single radar we possessed detected it," she admitted after a few moments. "Which I suppose isn't that surprising since it is advanced alien technology. However, that little clubhouse of yours has some of the best deep space detection equipment, so it should have picked up on it, no?"

Batman turned to face the woman. "What are you getting at?"

"All reports that I have managed to gather indicate that team of yours in Jump City were the first on scene. With something as powerful as the World Engine, I couldn't help but wonder why the League saw fit to let some junior heroes investigate it." Her dark eyes sharpened, not unlike a hawk focusing on their prey. "Unless the League didn't know anything about it, but somehow the Jump City team did."

Considering everything that had been going on at the time, Batman was fairly certain the League was suitably distracted to detect the World Engine. Turning away, he left the office, Waller watching him go.

It was frustrating.

"I had 'er on the ropes, but then she got help, and this guy had some power! My constructs didn't stand a chance! Don't know why!"

Any time there was any encounter with an outside stimulus, it meant the internal memory recorded both the external circumstances and what the internal decision making was. It was invaluable data.

"They had no idea how to hurt me! Gold sure does know how to take a hit. And they weren't expecting anything shocking until after!"

It was data Will had no way of getting to. LexCorp's main network had gone down before he could even begin running diagnostics, and Luthor had even sent a call ordering to do nothing until the bald son of a bitch said it was safe, whatever that meant.

"I had three of those meat bags, and the first two couldn't make sense of me. Being liquid at room temperature has its advantages, and humans have no idea how to deal with anything that ain't solid. Then that guy, had fire for hair, weird, but then he was taking me on, and it was really frustrating."

This was why you couldn't rely on humans. Whoever messed up was causing so many problems. How was it that he could continue with his work and research if some idiot was taking down the whole network that allowed him to do it? Now, if a robot had been monitoring the system, this wouldn't be happening.

"Mr. Flash was, um, he was r-r-real nice t-to me. He made me f-feel like I-I-I had worth,"

But for some reason, his Metal Men were behaving just like humans, and that was really annoying. And wait, had he heard right? Was Tin on a first name basis with…um…who was Mr. Flash again? Anything that wasn't his work wasn't important. Flash was someone who did something with light, right?

"We had our instructions, I know, but I do not feel like they were right. The girl, she was struggling—"

"Because you're so explosive, Platinum, but only second to gold."

"That's not what I meant. And then the man, he could absorb it all, and he wasn't happy. Not with me, and what he said. That I was a threat. I was a threat to the people that we're supposed to save."

They had been talking for so long, and it was really grating on the nerves of a man for whom such social situations were anathema. Why were they talking? Gossiping even? They shouldn't be—they were robots! Robots who were programmed to follow orders and to do what was needed to complete them.

"You're so pretty. Can you talk to me?"

And Lead was trying to hit on the vending machine again. It was ridiculous, how was that even possible and—wait. What was that? Feel? Right?

"Did you say you felt?" Will spoke up, interrupted what the other Metal Men were discussing, which was still the same topic minus Lead's lust. "Did I hear you right? Did you say you could feel? As in the sense of touch?"

At least five pairs of eyes were watching him now, two of them wide with worry. Platinum took a step forward and away from her metal brethren, bringing a hand up to her chest in a gesture that was way too human for Will to have programmed. "Of course we have a sense of touch; it is how we know if we have made contact with an external object. But I was talking about my feelings, Will."

"But you shouldn't have feelings!" the scientific prodigy interrupted, the fingers of his hands curling and uncurling with the urge to boot up the nearest terminal. There was something not right with his programming and he needed to fix it and fix it now.

"Ooh, and who's the wise guy who says whether or not we can feel?" Mercury had stretched his liquid body towards and around Will, looking down at the young man with contempt. "Why shouldn't we be able to feel, hmm? What, do you meat bags have a monopoly on feelings? When? And can I bust it?"

"I didn't program you to have feelings, that's the problem!" Will exclaimed as he marched his way to the nearest stool. Mercury's stretched body raised itself out of his way so he didn't have to come into contact with it. "This isn't part of my design!"

As if predicting what he was going to do, Iron had met the young man halfway, picked him up and then set him down as if he was a child onto the destination stool. "Does it really matter what you did and did not program into us?" A strong iron hand gently rubbed a soft, fleshy shoulder. "You put most of your effort into the Responsometers, remember? The artificial intelligence. You're a regular pioneer, son, and you can't accept anything out of your control."

Will blinked as he took in the statement. "How do you know that?"

"That you did program," Iron bluntly deadpanned. "You put your name on our programming."

"Will Magnus, programmer of your Responsometer. Your core is your intelligence," Mercury butted in, his tone suggesting implying that he was reading off a label.

Wait, hold up, his tone? Had he actually thought that word? There were no he's and she's here, but its, because they were not biological nor had that kind of anatomy to differentiate themselves!

"I-I'm s-s-sorry i-i-if we're causing problems. I-I'm not s-s-surprised I-I-I am," Tin said mournfully, looking down. The small, thin robot was comforted by Platinum who came to his—ahem, its—side.

"You should be happy!" Gold butted in, shoving his—its way around Iron to get to Will's vacant side. "It might be an accident, but you got us! Especially me! We're going to make you famous, let me tell you! People across the world are going to know your name—"

Anything else Gold said was tuned out because the horror of being the center of attention of the world was something Will was not looking forward to. Attention was the last thing he wanted, or ever wanted. He wasn't in this for attention! Just to change how the world did its rescues! That's it! Obscurity he was fine with, but fame? Oh no. No, no, no, no, not that. Anything but that.

"I need to find out what the problem is. I need to fix this," Wil mumbled under his breath, fingers twitch from the need to type on a keyboard. But wait, LexCorp's network was still down for whatever reason, so he couldn't. Oh, he was so tempted to ignore any orders from Luthor, but his boss had barged in some time ago and locked down all the computers himself. Then he had gotten extremely intimidating and warned him there would be consequences if he even so thought of ignoring him and turning one of the monitors on.

Now, when it came to authority figures, Will was not the type to accept anyone else's for any reason. Too many people out there with ranging limits of power, but all mad with it, had soured him a long time ago.

However, in that moment, he was pulled out of his personal bubble, Luthor glaring down on him, and he recalled how this was one man you did not ignore. His reputation truly preceded him, and as a first in a long time, the young prodigy felt genuine fear.

And a man like him had his outlet for fear, which was his programming, and that was the one thing he could not do right now. Instead, he was stuck in his own personal and private hell of being social even thought it was with—and Mercury's face was very close to his.

"What exactly do you need to fix, Doc?" the mercury-based robot half-asked casually and half-demanded. Liquid eyes that seemed so solid glanced at the stretched-out body, then examined the other Metal Men. "I don't see anything wrong. I see five great successes and a wimp. You knocked it out of the park. So why do we need fixing?"

"I-I'm s-s-sorry for not be-be-being a s-s-success," Tin whimpered.

"I gotta agree, I think we're perfect just the way we are," Gold added. "Especially me."

"But…" he tried to protest.

"We know we're not what you wanted," Platinum said quietly, and that seemed to bring down any and all joviality, and some of Mercury's hostility. "That this isn't what you planned. This is how it turned out. I know that the reason you made us is pure. You want to help people. That's why you programmed us for search-and-rescue missions. To save lives."

"Yeah," Iron agreed. "Your boss, on the other hand, I think he has different ideas. I don't trust him."

"Oh yeah. That guy's got an ego," Gold agreed, nodding his head with no sign of friendliness.

"Well, if he tries anything, I suggest we all go Robot Revolution," Mercury mused, tapping a finger to a long chin.

"What?" Will could only blink dumbly, not really comprehending what he had just heard.

"Always a jokester, Mercury," Gold shrugged, slinging an arm around the human. "But F.Y.I., if you need him to get in line, just let me know. I'll handle it."

Abruptly, there was a shattering noise, and the sound of what might have been broken glass landing on the floor. Slowly, Will turned his head and found Lead and the vending machine he was hitting on, the glass front of the vending machine broken.

"Oops. I think I hurt her," Lead said, staring at the damage. In one hand were several candy bars smooshed to oblivion.

The humans were placed into restraints. Plasma rifles were pointed right at their heads, promising a quick end should they resist. Each one sat on their knees, prostrated before Hro Talak.

These were their intruders that were sneaking around the generator. They didn't look like much, frankly. Hro was almost disappointed. Most of them were staring at the floor, far-off gazes on their faces. They appeared to be surrendering in their minds, which was just as well. Hro wanted to know everything they knew and if their minds were broken to begin with, they would be more willing to give him his answers.

"We have a colorful group here, Commander," Kragger observed. "I will begin the interrogation."

Hro merely nodded as he watched Kragger stroll in front of the five captives. He came to a stop in front of a masked man in red, looking down on him with an unimpressed expression on his face. "Who do you work for?" he demanded.

The man in red remained silent.

"Come now, silence will not save you," Kragger prodded. "The sooner you give us the answers we desire, the less pain you will face."

A snort came from a man in a blue coat. This caused Kragger to look at him. "Something to say?"

"No, mate, not a thing," the man responded.

Kragger immediately moved to stand in front of this more talkative human. "I detected a note of derision in that snort of yours. Tell me why that is."

"I think it speaks for itself."

"Shut it, Boomerang," the man in red snapped. "You know the drill."

Hro perked up at that. It seemed there were standing orders with this group, one of which included the scenario should they be captured. Even in the face of interrogation, this man was remaining loyal to his overseer. It was an excellent quality, but one that would need to be dealt with to receive answers.

"If you fear reprisal from your current employer, I can promise you sanctuary within my command ship," Hro offered. "All you need to do is answer our questions and you will be protected."

"That is quite a generous offer," Kragger added. "I highly recommend you accept it."

"Would if I could," the man called Boomerang replied, "but you can't protect us from what's comin'. We're already dead."

Ahh, these were disposable men. No doubt they were agents of a government organization, perhaps the Earth's United Nations. There would be no requests for returning these men, so they were conveniently tossed aside should they fail a mission. Who knew Earthlings were so ruthless.

"I promise, there is no weapon on this planet that can reach you if you cooperate with us," Hro offered again.

Boomerang looked at his compatriots. "Should I tell 'em, or do you want the honor?"

"I'd rather you keep your mouth shut," the man in red replied.

"It hardly matters at this point," a man with yellow hair and gray clothes said. The way he spoke his words were strange, the result of a human accent. "Ve vill be killed the moment it is discovered that we have been captured."

They spoke with such certainty, Hro couldn't help but become suspicious. Thanagar was a technologically more advanced civilization, so there wasn't a weapon Earth possessed that was more advanced than what he and his men had. Unless…

"Check their mouths," Hro ordered. "They may have suicide capsules."

Lieutenant Kragger raised a hand up and snapped his fingers. Several guards closed in on the captives, a few grabbing the heads of each prisoner and holding them still as another forced their mouths open. The man with the mask had his mask removed, revealing dark hair and a thin moustache. Curiously, the man with yellow hair opened his mouth without much resistance.

Immediately, a guard slapped a hand on this man's shoulder. "This one has a missing tooth!" the guard reported.

Boomerang turned his head to look at his comrade. "Bloody hell, why are you missing a tooth?"

"Occupational hazard," came the response. "My former master required it of all his men, I vas no different. Of course, it was removed by…"

He immediately trailed off, even as Hro leaned forward to hear what name would be spoken. This man clearly knew when to stop talking, even if he were about to let his employer's name slip.

"Don't stop now, you were becoming quite interesting," Kragger prodded. "Who removed your false tooth?"

"Vertigo," the man in red warned.

"You do not have to vorry about myself," Vertigo responded. "No amount of torture vill force me to betray myself."

"Get your hands off of me!"

Turning his head, Hro Talak spied a man completely covered in red and yellow. His men were trying to force his mouth open, but clearly were having problems. The man was jerking his head from side to side, resisting the guard who had his hands on his head. "Get your stinking hands off of me before I nuke this entire place!" he threatened.

And Hro lost his patience. It was becoming quite clear these prisoners would not be speaking willingly. "Take them away," he ordered. "Get the answers I wish, whatever means necessary. We gave them the chance to do this the easy way; now they will face the painful way."

"Not for bloody long," the Boomerang man muttered.

Hro ignored the remark. He had many things left to do and wasting time on them was not one of them. As the group was forced onto their feet, the door to the room opened and a guard entered, walking right towards Hro. He stopped right before the Commander, saluting him as he bowed his head. "Commander Talak, we have captured another trespasser."

Alright, this was becoming unacceptable. First this group, now another. Security was going to need to be increased dramatically at this rate. "Another Earthling," he questioned.

"No, Tamaranean."

That caught his attention. Hro was quite aware of the Tamaranean colony on Earth, but they had largely stayed in their sector thus far—until now. "What have you learned of them?"

"We are conducting the interrogation as of now. There is…something we believed required your attention."

"And that is?"

The guard held up a piece of paper. "The Tamaranean was holding this when we captured them. It is in their written language."

Hro accepted the paper and looked at the writing. As an officer, he was versed in a few languages and Tamaranean just so happened to be one of them. He saw the symbols, few as they were. Their implication, however…

We know.

Hro began to crumple the note in his hand. The Tamaraneans knew? Knew what? There were subjects they could not know about for security reasons. Yet, they had the technological expertise to recognize…

The generator.

Why? Why would they send one of their own with this note to inform him of their knowledge? In a combat scenario, keeping one's knowledge secret was paramount. To reveal it like this…

It seemed Hro was going to have to deal with the Tamaraneans as well as the humans.

Like a blue jewel in a sea of black, Earth stood out to the travel-weary adventurers. There was a sensation, growing stronger with every passing moment as the planet grew larger and larger, one of excitement and homesickness.

J'onn had to block out the growing thoughts so that he could concentrate on their arrival. He had tried to call the Watchtower, but it seemed the communication system was still down as they only received static in response. They were still out of range of their comm links, so those weren't an option either.

"Isn't that a sight for sore eyes," Hawkgirl remarked as she stood behind the pilot and co-pilot seats. She had one hand on the co-pilot seat, using it to prop herself up. Black Lightning didn't seem to mind the proximity.

"Do you think the Watchtower has detected us yet?" the Metropolis hero asked. "I haven't seen it pop up on our radar yet."

J'onn had to do some mental calculations before he answered, "At this point in time, the Watchtower should be appearing over the planet's east horizon. It'll be some time before we will visually see it."

"Kinda gives us a couple options, doesn't it?" the Thanagarian asked. "We've got Despero and we're fully intending on handing him over to the Green Lantern Corp. We can either take him to the Watchtower and hold him there until the Lanterns take him, or we can deliver him to the Corp planet-side."

"Not sure if I want this guy on Earth," Black Lightning said. "Why take the chance, you know?"

"It's not like he'll get out," the winged woman pointed out. "We have power dampeners on him and he hasn't breached the stasis field. Not to mention there's a whole contingency of Green Lanterns along with a Guardian. If those combined wills can't hold him, I don't know what will."

That was an interesting point. J'onn couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, looking right towards Despero. The Kalanorian remained kneeling as he had the moment he had been boarded on the Javelin 7. Not once had he attempted to free himself, seemingly resigned to his fate. Even now he appeared asleep, all three of his eyes closed, his respirations even.

J'onn then spared a quick look at the other passengers. Diana, Vixen, and Kilowog were also resting, taking advantage of one of the few activities they could do. Flash had once mentioned keeping a supply of activities on board for long voyages and J'onn was beginning to agree with the speedster.

Over time, Earth grew larger and larger in the windshield until it was all they could see. One could make out the browns and greens of the landmasses, surrounded by the blue of the oceans, partially hidden by the whites of clouds.

And then an explosion detonated.

The Javelin shook violently, rocking its occupants where they sat or stood. Jolting in his seat, J'onn looked at the dashboard and saw the radar showed nothing, not even meteorites. Where had that explosion come from?

In that back of his head, he sensed something—thoughts. He could sense other minds and they were all…

"What's going on?" Hawkgirl demanded.

Instead of answering, J'onn spun the ship's wheel to the right, causing the ship to jerk in that direction. Moments later, energy beams raced by, narrowly missing them.

Hawkgirl was nearly thrown off her feet as she slapped a hand on the hull of the vessel, her other hand gripping tightly to the co-pilot seat. The sudden maneuver shook the other Justice League members from their rest, cries of surprise ringing out.

All the while, J'onn kept up with his evasive maneuvers, changing directions seemingly at random, but always heading forward. In fact, he was trying to fly towards the eastern horizon, where the Watchtower should be appearing at any moment.

Suddenly, a ship flew right into view. J'onn stared at it as it flew from one side of the windshield to the other, giving him plenty of time to recognize the design.

"Was that a Tamaranean ship?" Black Lighting demanded.

"Damn right it is," Hawkgirl confirmed. "What the hell are they trying to do?!"

There was a detonation off the starboard side of the Javelin 7, rocking the ship once again. J'onn grimaced as he was forced to his left, Earth sliding more into the windshield's view. "They are trying to force us away from the Watchtower," he announced.

Black Lightning hit the button to the communication system. "Watchtower, this is the Javelin 7!" he nearly yelled into the comm. "We are under attack! We need assistance ASAP!"

Static roared through the speakers, indicating what had become of their emergency hail. "What the hell have they been doing since we left?" Hawkgirl demanded heatedly. "This is one hell of a time not to have the communications back on-line!"

There was another detonation, closer, stronger this time. The Tamaraneans' attacks were drawing closer. To Hawkgirl's point though, more than enough time had gone by for the communication systems to be repaired. Either the issues were greater than anyone expected, or…

"The Tamaraneans may be jamming communications," J'onn said. "It would explain our inability to get into contact with the Watchtower."

"That's just great," Hawkgirl growled. "J'onn, turn the ship around. We've got weapons on this thing, let's show these guys what's coming!"

Before he could do so, there was another explosion, one that hit the back of the ship. Red lights flooded the cabin, alarms blaring. Suddenly, J'onn felt the steering wheel stiffen in his hands, making it difficult to control it. "Damn it!" Black Lightning swore as he checked out the many flashing lights and alarms blaring from the dashboard. "I think they got one of our engines!"

Along with a tail flap if J'onn had to guess. There was no way they were going to make it to the Watchtower, not in this condition. That left only one option left. With as much strength as he could muster without snapping the wheel off, J'onn directed the Javelin 7 towards Earth. He diverted as much power to the remaining engine as he could to speed up the ship.

"Hang on, everyone!" he shouted as the ship began to vibrate from coming into contact with the planet's atmosphere. The windshield began to glow red, painting Earth in the same hue. "This will be a rough landing!"