There is a sublime calm that permeates the aethers.
A quiet that extends from the ship to the very bone.
An unspoken bond reached from trusting the others
to protect your interests along with their own.

The ship breathes an excited sigh,
anticipating the battles ahead.
She knows that the time is nigh:
Soon our quarry will be dead.

A flash of light, a fearsome roar!
The time is right, we wait no more!
We train our sight, and a great rapport
With fearsome fight, begin our war.

The pilot weaves, the empath heals.
The gunners blast, and a slivven revealed
is slaughtered to lessen the pain it deals.
And our lives or theirs, we shall not yield.

The last shot rings out
A final fateful blast.
And let there be no doubt:
we have won at last.

Our foes are defeated, returned to the void.
The ship quiets down as her wounds are healed.
Her parasites are treated, forever destroyed.
And the crew settles in while breaches are sealed.

The aethers have quieted down once again,
Our efforts and power combined win the day.
We settle our nerves, we calm down and then
continue along on our way.