The Captain entered the mess hall as rows of Warriors filled the long tables, their armor scarred from the battle still fresh in memory. The Commander raised a metal cup high while the room echoed with hard laughter and stories of the torpedo strike that crippled the enemy vessel. 

The Lieutenant tore into his meal beside the others, the scent of flesh worms and engine smoke mixing in the heavy air. Along the walls, damaged plating and flickering lights reminded everyone that victory had not come without blood. Glory to the Empire carried through the hall with every shouted toast, louder than the hum of the warship itself...