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"Ship Master Qunu," he said over ship-to-ship COM, "report."

On the central holographic display, Qunu's destroyer, the Far Sight Lost, continued to accelerate from the safety of the fleet's defensive sphere formation. It plunged into a high orbit over the world the humans had called "Onyx"; this word had no meaning for their translation Oracle.

"Fleet Master," Qunu replied, "moving into the proscribed vector of supplication."

A thousand tiny craft crested over the planet's northern magnetic pole and moved toward the Far Sight Lost on attack vectors.

"Honor light your way," Voro told Quno.

Quno finished the time-old Sangheili maxim: "Our blood will forge a thousand generations."

Voro had considered initiating contact himself, but decided the honor should go to Qunu, whose knowledge of the ancient ritual responses from the Fire and Repentance Codices of the First Age was unmatched.

On Y'gar's sensor station a schematic of one of the Forerunner vessels appeared: three unconnected cylinders and a sphere.

"Power signatures detected, sir," Y'gar reported, his one good eye staring at the patterns. "Energy shields and offensive-system waveforms present."

Voro considered this: The power outputs from these tiny ships were insufficient to penetrate their shields… but there were so many.

"Spin up the fore energy projector," Voro ordered.

Uruo hesitated a heartbeat, and then moved his hands over the controls. "Fore energy projector charging, sir."

The shimmering of power readings of the Forerunner vessels reflected Voro's gaze.

During their Slipspace journey, Voro had made clear to his Ship Masters that they had to be willing to set aside their beliefs. Others had been blinded by the glory of Ring of the Gods, and subsequently destroyed by the human and the Flood infestations. They must be prepared for anything.

"Alert the fleet to make weapons ready," Voro ordered Y'gar. "Aye, sir." Voro wanted to believe the Forerunners had left this world to deliver them in their hour of

greatest need… his instincts, however, told him not to trust anything but Sangheili blood.

"Far Sight Lost broadcasting on an open channel," Y'gar said, and put it on bridge audio.

"… let us cast arms aside," Ship Master Qunu began the ritual greeting. "… And like

discard our wrath. Thou, in faith, will keep us safe. Whilst we find the path."

The thousands of the tiny craft drifted in the central holographic display like a cloud of dust. They formed octahedral geometries, solidifying into crystals of gold and ruby in the dark of space, surrounding the Far Sight Lost.

"Incoming transmission," Y'gar said. Both his eyes, sighted and blind, were wide with wonder. "On the Prophets channel, sir."

A flat voice, intoning perfectly the ancient dialect, rumbled over the bridge: "Rescue phase concluded. Threat-analysis phase concluded. Reclaimant request for Shield World access… denied. Initiating outer defense program."

"Energy spikes detected," Y'gar said. "Frequencies shifting to resonate suites." He looked up. "They're combining fire, sir."

"Fleetwide channel," Voro shouted. "All Ship Masters make ready to fire. Link targeting control through the Incorruptible."

Uruo monitored his console as the ships in their fleet linked into a single spiderweb network of firepower. "Fleet fire control is now yours, sir," he told Voro.

"Target laser and energy projectors on these cluster formations," Voro said.

Uruo smoothed his hands over the network, double-checking the numbers, and then said, "Target solutions calculated, sir. On your order."

A thousand tiny eyes blazed within the alien formations. Energy beams collimated into lances of golden light that painted the hull of the Far Sight Lost.

The ship did not have its shields up. Beams sliced through armor and decks, piercing through and through, blasting cones of vaporized alloy into space.

Voro quenched his rage and studied the carnage. Some advantage had to be gleaned from this tragedy.

Individually the tiny craft could do no harm.