The sight of a fully arrayed warfleet upon the ocean is enough to strike dread and awe in even the most hardened heart. Upon decks of bone, golden statues gleam in the sunlight, the Jewels of Shobik crackling with barely contained energy. As battle-lines are formed, the fleet comes to a halt, silent, immovable, oars raised in salute to those who have fallen before, and who shall fall again.