1300 Hours, October 7th, 2525 (Military Calendar)/ CMA Heracles, In Slipspace/ En Route to Epsilon Indi System
The door to the small cabin slid open with a hiss, an the sounds from the hallway outside slipped into the room, but quickly drowning out as the door shut. The room was dimly lit, but had enough light to see where you were going.
Timothy Graham shook his son awake. "Jon. Jon, time to wake up."
"What?" Jon said sleepily, stretching out his arms and kicking off the stiff covers, a pair of gym shorts and a plain white tee shirt covering his body.
"We're almost out of Slipspace. Come, we're going to be on the bridge for this.
Jon's eyes lit up. "Oh boy! The bridge?! Can I sit in the captain's chair?!"
Timothy chuckled, and said, "Maybe, son. But remember, you're a cadet. I expect you to be in your peak of discipline."
Jon nodded, and leaped out of bed. He quickly put on his white uniform, with a small nametag reading Graham above his right breast. He was about to leave the room when his father said, "Jon. You're forgetting something."
The ten year old turned around and saw his father holding a small box. Jon went over to him and opened it, revealing all of his ribbons. Jon pinned them on and then started to leave the room, Timothy following him.
Jon left the cabin and bumped into a crewman, who snapped to attention when he saw Timothy's star and three stripes.
"At ease."
Jon and Timothy sped down the halls and towards the main elevator. Jon jumped in and ushered his father to be faster. Timothy stepped inside and said, "Command deck."
The elevator pinged, and it started to go up rapidly.
"Will the captain like me?" asked Jon.
Timothy looked down at his son and said, "Yes, I'm sure Captain Veredi will like you very much. You're a good boy. Your mother would be so proud of you if she were here." He smiled.
Jon looked forward, bouncing. Then, the elevator beeped, and the doors hissed open.
The bridge was quite spacious, considering all of the instruments in it. A dozen or so people sat at consoles, doing their usual activities on them. In the front and center of the deck was a large chair. Timothy nudged his son, who quickly went serious. He almost started marching, but his father walked casually. They stopped behind the chair, and Timothy said, "Captain Veredi, sir."
The chair swiveled around, and a middle aged bearded man sat in it, his hair graying. He looked at Timothy and his son, and said, "You must be Jonathan. Pleased to meet you."
Jon went to attention and saluted.
"At ease, son. Come, take a seat. We'll be dropping out of Slipspace here in a few moments," Captain Veredi said.
Two crewmen wheeled up chairs, and Timothy sat to the left of the Captain. Jon was right up on the railing, his arms dangling over it.
"If I might ask, sir, where are we going and for what reason?" Jon asked.
Captain Veredi looked at him, and said, "Eight months ago, we lost contact with the planet Harvest. Six months ago, the scout ship Argo was sent to investigate, and we never heard anything back. So now, we're going in to figure it out, and we have the firepower to back it up."
"Captain, do we have any reinforcements in case of any overwhelming hostiles?" asked Timothy.
With a wave of his hand, Captain Veredi said, "We don't need any help. We've got two frigates and a destroyer at our disposal. I'm sure we'll be fine."
"What do you think it is, sir?" asked Jon.
"Probably Insurrectionists. They've done similar things, but not on this scale," the Captain said.
"Sir, we're coming out of Slipspace in five seconds," the navigation officer said.
"Good. Hey, son, would you like to sit in my chair for a moment?" Captain Veredi said to Jon, smiling.
"Yes, sir!" Jon yelled, leaping up. He quickly sat down in the large chair, adjusting himself to it.
"It's definitely comfortable," he said.
Then, the Heracles came through a massive hole in space, its two escorts, Arabia and Vostok, coming in next to it. Ahead of the battlegroup was a large smoldering rock. It looked like a massive asteroid, it couldn't be a planet.
Jon received a tap on the shoulder and heard the Captain say, "Get up, son."
The cadet got up, and plopped back down in his seat. He stared at the rock, and asked, "Dad... err, I mean, commander, what is that?"
Timothy leaned in, and shook his head, and said, "That can't be Harvest. Ensign, are we in the right system?"
The navigation officer shouted, "Yes, sir! That is Harvest... and by god she looks wrecked."
Capatain Veredi leaned forward, gripping the sides of his chair, and said, "Bring the Battlegroup into tight formation and go into high orbit of the planet."
Jon stared at the planet, not believing that this was a human colony.
"Was Harvest always like this, Captain?" he asked.
Veredi shook his head, and said, "No, she's an agricultural colony. Or it was."
"Good god, who could have done this? The entire UNSC fleet couldn't destroy a planet like thi...," Timothy began, before getting cut off by the Captain.
"It wasn't Insurrectionists," he said.
The three ships of Battlegroup 4 closed in on what used to be Harvest, and started going over her in high orbit. Fires raged across the burned world, and it looked as though the entire planet was turned to glass. Then, the ships came into view of a massive purple vessel. It hung over the planet, not moving. It was much larger than even the largest UNSC ships, and looked like a shark.
"Ensign... Ensign, what is that?" Timothy asked.
"I... I don't know. It doesn't match any known ship classifications," the operations officer said.
"That's because it isn't human. Lieutenant, open a comm link with that vessel. I think we've just made contact with extraterrestrials, albeit under bad circumstances," Captain Veredi.
The bridge was silent as the entire bridge crew stared at the massive alien ship, until finally the communications officer said, "Link's open, sir."
Captain Veredi cleared his throat, and then said, "Go through with standard first contact protocol."
The communication officer's console beeped multiple times as he sent a strain of codes to the alien ship. "Message received, sir."
"Now we wait," Timothy muttered, tensing in his seat.
Jon sat up, and said, "Dad, are these aliens friends?"
Timothy shrugged. Captain Veredi began sweating, and squirming in his chair.
Finally, the communications officer yelled, "We have a response, sir!"
"On screen," Captain Veredi said.
The main screen on the bridge came on, and a single message appeared, saying: Your destruction is the will of the gods, and we are their instrument.
The bridge fell completely silent; only the constant hum of the engines remained.
"Sir, they're charging weapons!" the operations officer yelled.
Shakily, Captain Veredi yelled, "All vessels, open up with Archers!"
"If that ship can destroy an entire planet, what the hell can we do?!" Timothy said to the Captain.
The Captain turned to him and said, "Our job is to protect Earth and all of her colonies. And do that we shall."
Ahead of the Heracles, the Charon-class frigates Arabia and Vostok sped ahead, launching their Archer missiles. The Archer was a ship to ship missile, and could typically destroy an Insurrectionist ship in one or two volleys. The missiles rocketed towards the vessel, and suddenly the alien vessel destroyed most of them with Point Defense Lasers.
Jon quickly jumped up, and shouted, "Just use the MAC gun!"
Captain Veredi said nothing.
Then, the remaining missiles impacted on the hostile ship, only to be deflected by energy shielding.
"Oh my god...," Timothy muttered.
The alien ship then fired back.
Plasma torpedoes left the alien ship, and hit the two frigates at the same time. The ships boiled away before their very eyes with loss of all hands.
"Fire the MAC gun!" Jon repeated.
"We're having trouble with the Archer pods, sir!" the weapons officer shouted.
"What deck?" Veredi asked.
"Deck thirteen."
"Commander Graham, go check it out. Jonathan, remain here," the Captain said.
"Aye aye. Jon, I'll see you in a few minutes," Timothy said, rushing off of the deck.
"Sir, the MAC will do a lot of damage to the ship, if I'm not mistaken," Jon said to the captain, standing on the railing.
The Captain looked at him, and said, "Maybe. Fire the MAC gun!"
The lights of the bridge dimmed, and the ship shook twice, sending two heavy MAC rounds hurtling at the Covenant ship. The rounds were simply absorbed by the shields.
"If they can deflect MAC rounds... oh god, sir! They're firing again!" the ops officer cried.
"Evasive maneuvers!"
The Heracles rolled and tried to avoid the enemy plasma torpedoes, but it was impacted by two of them. The destroyer shook violently, sending things not bolted to the ship flying all over the place. Jon fell off the railing, but caught onto it as he fell, pulling himself up.
"Are we alive?" he said quietly.
"Yes, son. Damage report?!" Captain Veredi replied.
"Decks twelve through fifteen are compromised, fires have broken out. I'm gonna vent them," the operations officer said.
"No, you can't! My dad's down there!" Jon cried, staring at the officer.
"Sir, someone from deck thirteen is trying to contact us!" the communication officer said.
"On screen."
Then, on the main screen, the face of Timothy Graham came on, his face covered with cuts and bruises. He shouted, "We're hit! We've got fires down here!"
Captain Veredi said, "We're going to have to vent them, Commander. Can you get anybody out?"
Timothy nodded and said, "I've already got a quarter to other decks."
"Can you get out, dad?" Jon asked.
Timothy looked into the camera and said, "I think so. Wait, Captain, what are you going to do?!"
Veredi then said, "Commander, we have to vent the decks."
"I don't have enough time to get out before they spread!" Timothy cried.
"Sir, fires are creeping up onto other decks!" an officer yelled.
"I'm sorry, Commander," Captain Veredi finally said.
Jon stared at the screen, tears building in his eyes.
"Jon, I love you. Your mother and I are very proud of you! Turn away, son," his father said.
But Jon didn't turn away.
"Vent it," Veredi said softly.
Then, the camera went black, as the four decks were vented into space to put out the fires.
"Dad!" Jon cried, falling to his knees.
"Ensign, get us the hell out of here!" Veredi shouted.
The Heracles was hit a few more times by lasers, but then disappeared into the blue light of Slipspace.
"I'm sorry, son," Captain Veredi said, burying his face into his hands.
Jon cried alone on the bridge.
...
0100 Hours, August 31st, 2552 (Military Calendar)/ UNSC Achilles/ Epsilon Eridani System
Captain Graham sat in his chair, looking out at the massive UNSC fleet. More ships had been arriving, mostly evacuation transports. The 1st Fleet had arrived, bringing fifteen cruisers, five carriers, fifty frigates, and twenty one destroyers. Thousands of ground troops were being shipped down to the planet, joining the millions already fighting. The Achilles was in the middle of the main fleet, surrounded by repair craft. To protect the vital orbital guns, Admiral Whitcomb had deployed three ships to each station.
"Sir, Admiral Whitcomb's broadcasting to the whole fleet," Lieutenant Cortez said.
"Bring it up," Jon replied.
"Admiral Whitcomb to all ships. We have over one thousand hostile ships jumping into system. Repeat, over a thousand Covenant vessels inbound. All ships are to form Attack Pattern Agartha. Let's get ready."
Immediately, the carriers of the fleet rumbled forward, about one million kilometers ahead of the main force. They halted, and turned so their sides were facing the star of Epsilon Eridani. Fighter squadrons massed on the opposite side of the gigantic ships, where the main fleet was in sight of them. The Marathon cruisers formed one long line formation, stretching across. Filling the gaps ahead of them were the destroyers, and ahead of them were the other ships. The point of the formation was to bring all guns to bear, yet give enough space for emergency maneuvers. The carriers were ahead to bait the Covenant into jumping in closer, catching them into the guns of the ODP's and other ships. The carriers would then jump to another part of the system, and them come back. The second phase of Agartha was Shangri-La, where the fleet would scatter, and form battegroups of ten ships each.
"Alright, guys. We can do this," Jon said.
"Damn right we can. We're fuckin' humans," Lieutenant Covington replied.
"Ya know, if this were the 21st century we could do that 'USA' chant those people did," Ensign Davidson remarked.
Jon glared at her, and said, "We still do it where I come from."
"I'm sure you do, Cap," Ensign DeSemple said.
Ahead of the carriers, space ripped open, and dozens of the all-too-familiar purple Covenant ships took shape. It appeared as though they took bait, coming in closer than previously expected. They sped towards the UNSC ships, firing lasers. Blue holes came from ahead of the UNSC ships, and they jumped into Slipspace, leaving hundreds of fighters in their wake. The full brunt of the UNSC fleet fired upon them, tearing away massive chunks from Covenant cruisers. The fighters rushed forward, strafing the approaching Covenant vessels.
"Line two, fire at will."
Dozens of UNSC destroyers fired two massive slugs in unison, past the smaller ships ahead of them. Of course, there was no way of telling who hit what, with all ships firing. The result, however, was dozens of shattered Covenant ships.
"All ships, move in Shangri-La formation. Repeat, Shangri-La is a go."
The human fleet began forming into battlegroups, most of which consisted of a single cruiser, two or three destroyers, and the rest being frigates or corvettes. Ensign DeSemple brought the Achilles' designated group, made up of the Halcyon-class cruiser Williamsburg, the destroyers Minotaur and Majestic, and six frigates. The ships came to a slow advance, pressing forward.
"Captain Graham?! It's Sam! Samantha Ellis, from the Saipan? You there buddy?!" the line from the Williamsburg exclaimed.
Jon smiled and picked up the handset next to his seat, "Well well well. Look who got their very own cruiser! How'd you manage that one, Sam?"
"Later. We have a war to win," the woman responded.
The Achilles tilted its bow forward, and fired two rapid shots and a salvo of Archers at a Covenant light cruiser. The MAC rounds missed, and just before the Archers impacted, the light cruiser fired plasma torpedoes at a cluster of frigates, boiling both of them away. The Archers erupted on the cruisers shields, just before a larger battlecruiser blocked the Achilles' view of its target. More and more Covenant ships were slipping in; far too many for the current UNSC fleet to take on with the losses it was sustaining.
Suddenly, Ensign Davidson shouted, "Sir, we have massive radiation spikes from the surface of Reach! Oh my god..."
"What is it, Ensign?!" Jon yelled back, getting up from his chair and jogging to her station.
"Shit...," he said, looking at her screen.
Ten massive figures were in Reach's low orbit, matching the figures of Covenant supercarriers.
"Where are they?" Jon quietly asked.
Davidson brought up the location on the map. "Looks like they're all around Manassas, and moving out slowly."
"How did they break through..?" Jon whispered to himself.
He then stood straight, and turned to his weapons officer, "How many nukes.. do we have, Lieutenant?"
No answer.
"Lieutenant!"
Covington swiveled around quickly, straightening his shirt. "Huh, yes, sir! Uh, we have six nukes left, sir. Yeah, six."
"You alright, Lieutenant?" asked Jon.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just.. haven't slept for two days, sir."
"Arm the nukes, and wait for my command," Jon said, walking down to Lieutenant Cortez's station.
"Contact the battlegroup. Get a count for nukes, and tell them to arm them," Jon ordered.
He sat back down, and waited for Cortez to send off the order.
Jon picked out the handset, and waited for Sam to call.
She did.
"Just what the hell do you think you're doing, Jon?!"
"There are ten alien supercarriers down there. Conventional weapons won't do shit," he replied.
The woman scoffed, and said, "Contact the Invincible, or the Big Sticks. Don't kill more civilians, Jon."
"You know they're occupied! We can end this, right now!" Jon shouted.
He heard Sam sigh heavily, and then she said, "Fine, we'll get ready to attack."
Jon put down the phone, and said, "Is this worth it, William?"
William Covington didn't say anything, and then said, "Is what worth it, sir?"
"Fighting. I'm about to order something that will kill millions. Is this even worth it?"
"Sir, if you want my opinion, we can lure the carriers out and nuke them here," William said.
"Looks like your wish came true, Cov. A single one of the carriers, the Long Night of Solace, is moving into high orbit. Wait, make that three carriers," Davidson said.
"All ships, this is the Admiral. I need all available battlegroups to attack the Covenant supercarriers exiting atmosphere. All weapons are availa... hold on. New contacts coming in. Looks like mostly carriers and battlecruisers but... what the hell is that?" the comm barked as hundreds of new contacts came onto the scanner.
"Sir, this is Achilles Actual, my battlegroup is going to assault the supercarriers. Focus the fleet on the new contacts, sir," Jon said into the comm.
"Do what you have to, Captain," Whitcomb replied.
The battlegroup spun around to face the approaching supercarriers. The frigates fired their MAC guns, barely doing anything on their shields.
"Sir, we just received a mayday call from the frigate Savannah. They're attacking a Covenant corvette, the Ardent Prayer. They say there are Spartans on board it," Lieutenant Cortez said.
"Do they want our help?"
"Yes, sir. They request fighters for support," Cortez replied.
"Ask them what the hell Spartan's are doing on that thing," Jon said.
After a few seconds, Cortez said, "Classified ONI mission. They're saying to stay away from the Long Night of Solace, though."
Nodding, Jon said, "Mr. Covington, fire two nukes at the carrier bearing a few clicks behind the Long Night."
"Aye aye. Shiva's away," the Lieutenant said.
The two missiles left the destroyer, going through flak from the cannons of the human ships. Below the Long Night of Solace was a Covenant corvette, and near that was a lone human frigate. The Shiva missiles went past both ships and sped towards the farthest supercarrier, which was charging its weapons for an attack on the battlegroup.
"Sir, the nukes would just bounce off the shielding. We have to drop the shields!"
Jon nodded, and picked up his phone, "Sam, I need you and the entire group to open fire with MACs, Archers, Howlers, everything you got. Drop the shields on the furthest carrier."
"Nukes?" she asked.
"Not yet, Sam," Jon said.
The Williamsburg opened up, followed by the other ships in the group. The shields on the carrier began to flicker, but held. Soon enough though, the shields collapsed just as the Shiva's impacted. The carrier was engulfed in a bright light, and then disappeared.
"Is it destroyed?" Jon asked Davidson.
The Ensign replied, "No, sir. It jumped away."
Then, the Savannah exploded. A few minutes later, the Ardent Prayer went into the hangar of the Long Night of Solace, and it and the supercarrier were engulfed in a ball of Slipspace, tearing the Long Night of Solace apart.
"Sir, there are two survivors off of the Covenant corvette. Their callsigns and biometrics match those of two Spartans," Ensign Davidson said.
"Thank god," Jon said.
"Sir, there's a massive contact coming into system. The Admiral is calling for all available units to assemble and engage," Lieutenant Cortez reported.
"Alright, bring us towards the fleet. I'll bring Captain Ellis up," Jon said, reaching for his handset.
"Sam, did you get the Admiral's request?"
"I did, Jon. We're goin' in. Keep on my front," Sam replied, as the Williamsburg began following the Achilles towards the assembling human fleet.
"Looks like it's being escorted by three hundred ships, all cruisers and carriers," Davidson said.
The attacking Covenant fleet turned and soared towards the slip-in point for the unknown ship. The UNSC fleet fired as the attackers retreated, taking out a few ships here and there. Then, a massive hole ripped open in the black of space, and a colossal vessel came in, shaped like a figure eight. Eleven hundred ships closed in on the humans.
"All ships, this is Admiral Whitcomb. Here, right now, we are outnumbered two to one, and outgunned heavily. But we can win. If we don't, which isn't gonna happen, we'll show these goddamn Covenant alien motherfuckers just what humanity can do. All ships, you may fire at will."
...
0045 Hours, August 31st, 2552 (Human Military Calendar)/ Unyielding Hierophant/ En Route to Epsilon Eridani System
Thel 'Vadamee sat in his command chair, overlooking the massive bridge of the battlestation. Unggoy stood at some of the stations, hand picked due to them actually having intelligence, unlike the rest of their race. Of course, all of the important stations were manned by Sangheili, speaking quietly among themselves. For them, this wave of assault would shatter the human resolve and, more importantly, their fleet. Thel had been thinking since the quorum with the Hierarchs. Surely the Great Journey was true, but should the Prophets really be the ones at the helm? It was not their blood being spilled in a war that was quickly becoming a stalemate.
Resting his head in his hands, he remembered when he and a squad of Zealots breached a heavily defended bunker on the planet Roost and slaughtered all but one of the defenders. Thel dragged the wounded marine into a small room, promising him survival if he gave the Covenant the coordinates for Earth after finding out this marine was the second in command of the base. Instead of complying, however, the human attacked Thel and the guards, beating one of the Zealots to death before being impaled by Thel's sword. In his dying words, the marine uttered the words Semper Fi.
Thel was snapped out of his memory by the heavy footsteps of Tartarus approaching him. The Supreme Commander looked up, and saw the heads of some of the bridge crew slightly turned, before looking back at their screens. The ornamented Fist of Rukt hung over his shoulder, covered with bones and animal skins.
"Well, today's the big day, Commander," the Brute said, almost spitting out the last word.
"It is. And today is the day we achieve victory," Thel said.
Tartarus chuckled, and walked over to the command table in the center of the bridge. He pressed a button, and a hologram of the planet Reach came up. Surrounding the world were hundreds of the Defilers ships. The Chieftain zoomed in on one specifically, a ship larger than even their cruisers.
"What are you doing?" asked Thel, rising from his chair and walking down to the opposite side of the table, leaning on it.
Tartarus looked at the ship, and pointed at it, "That ship is one of what the humans call a dreadnought. The Invincible, to be exact. It destroyed over fifty of your ships alone."
He chuckled, and began pacing. It was definitely no secret that his kind and the Jiralhanae had a disdain for each other, and the two kept their distance as often as possible, so as not to ignite old flames. Thel looked at the ship.
"What is your point?"
"My point is that this battle shall not end quickly," Tartarus replied.
Deep down, Thel believed him, but he couldn't say it, "The humans have defiled us for far too long. The Hierarchs have entrusted me to destroy the humans. And with this battlestation, this shall be much easier."
To a Sangheili Minor, the Unyielding Hierophant appeared like a massive space station. But it was much, much more. With the firepower to destroy and entire Covenant fleet at medium to close range, this battlestation was more than meets the eye. It did not have any of the holy beams, but still had plasma torpedoes and defense lasers. The most unique power of the station was that it could expand its extremely powerful energy shields to cover its defense fleet, giving them cover from enemy fire. It was the key to victory.
"Do you fear them, Sangheili?" Tartarus asked.
Thel looked at him, and said, "Fear them? Of course not. I respect them as warriors, and find their ferocity and dedication honorable. But all that is effortless against their inevitable destruction." He spun the hologram around, bringing most of the human ships into view. "They may be capable of many things, but victory is not one of them."
Letting out a low laugh, Tartarus said, "Then why have we not been able to breach and glass their Inner Colonies? What is with this sudden turn around in their fighting? Why have they been able to slowly push us into a war of attrition?" Thel knew that Tartarus was trying to bait him, make him snap. "Could it be that your kind has failed?"
"In the beginning," Thel snarled, "We were attacking insignificant, sparsely populated outer worlds, lightly defended by smaller human ships. But once the twenty billionth human fell dead, they struck back with every powerful warship they had before we had a chance to decimate the next wave of human planets." He leaned in. "They have excellent leadership, like that Whitcomb, Stanforth, and Cole, who are superior to your kinds best commanders. They have been difficult to destroy."
"Was it not your peoples' armadas that were 'protecting' the planets the humans have destroyed?" Tartarus sneered.
Thel let out a mighty laugh, and a few of the bridge crew chuckled too. "Might I mention that your homeworld was almost among those?"
Growling, Tartarus tightened his grip on the Fist of Rukt. "Watch your tongue, Sangheili," he snarled.
"The fleet over Doisac outnumbered the humans four to one, yet almost all of its ships were destroyed. Were it not for the timely arrival of the Imperial Admiral, the humans would have almost certainly turned their weapons on the defenseless surface population, firing into its great volcanoes, spewing out ash and deadly gases, and rendering your world uninhabitable for years to come. And who was it that came to your rescue?" Thel continued.
"The Sangheili!" a bridge officer shouted in agreement, throwing his fist into the air. Tartarus snapped his head to face the much smaller being, and bared his teeth at it.
Thel laughed, and turned back to Tartarus, "You see Tartarus, the Sangheili are known to the humans as 'Elites', a term commonly used to describe the best of the best. Your kind, on the other hand, are known as Brutes. Brutes are barabarians, and uncivilized."
The Fist of Rukt slid down, and Tartarus brought his other hand onto the handle, holding it with both. He was panting, and stared at Thel like he was prey.
Out of the corner of his eye, Thel saw some Honor Guard coming up from behind the Jiralhanae chieftain, weapons at the ready. Thel held up his hand for them to stand down.
"Make one move, Brute, and your life will be measured in seconds," Thel said calmly.
Tartarus continued staring at him, and then scoffed. He slung the hammer over his shoulder, and turned around, leaving the bridge.
The Supreme Commander continued looking at the hologram of Reach.
From the other side of it, he saw a blue Minor approaching him, "Supreme Commander, we are nearing the human planet. All ships are accounted for and ready."
"Excellent. Communications!" Thel snapped his head at the Unggoy Ultra manning the station. "Contact all ships in the fleet!"
"Line open, Commander!" the small alien screeched.
"Crew members of the Fleet of Unyielding Justice! On this day, our purge of the Defilers shall gain redemption for all of our defeats, for all the dishonored families. On the blood of our fathers and sons, we have sworn to destroy those who have defied our sacred Covenant!" His voice became low and calm. "Let their rivers run red with their blood. Make their fields turn to gas. Make their people turn to ash."
"All ships are ready to emerge from Slipspace," a Minor barked.
Nodding, Thel made fists and said, "Execute."
