The journey back to the Ares fleet passed in relative silence, everyone processing what they'd witnessed. The mass suicide had been unlike anything in their experience, demonstrating a level of fanatical loyalty that made conventional military opposition seem almost quaint by comparison.
The fleet's war room felt smaller somehow when they gathered to discuss their next moves. The holographic displays showed tactical analyses of the failed assault, casualty reports from both sides, and intelligence assessments that raised more questions than they answered.
"So," Kelvin said, breaking the silence that had dominated their return journey. "We've got one surviving elite, approximately three thousand dead fanatics, and basically no actionable intelligence. How exactly do we call this a victory?"
"We proved they can be killed," Lucas pointed out. "That's something."
