The warship looked about its internal systems. All was ready; any further delay would constitute
prevarication. It turned itself about, facing back the way it had come. It powered up its engines slowly
to accelerate gradually, sleekly away into the void. As it moved, it left the skein of space behind it
seeded with mines and hyperspace-capable missiles. They might only remove a ship or two even if
they were lucky, but they would slow the rest down. It ramped its speed up, to significant engine
degradation in 128 hours, then 64, then 32. It held there. To go any further would be to risk immediate
and catastrophic disablement.
It sped on through the dark hours of distance that to mere light were decades, glorying in its
triumphant, sacrificial swiftness, radiant in its martial righteousness.