"Here, the Souls of All Intelligent Species Can"

to find a common frequency."

Shortly after, Dorn stood like a mountain before the observation window, his heavy, custom-forged armor outlined in stark, cold relief by the starlight.

The pupils beneath his faceplate reflected the distant glow of the fleet like two unquenchable flames.

Behind him, the bridge presented a scene of busy and orderly efficiency; the Imperial Fists, clad in light power armor, operated their respective control panels with flying speed.

Tactical officers gathered before the holographic sandbox, their fingers sliding across the projected defense arrays while communication arrays continually received encrypted messages from various stellar sectors, the blue light of data streams flowing across the metal deck.

Various sounds intertwined—

The humming of servo-systems, the static hiss of holographic devices, the concise and powerful reports of officers, together composing the "daily battle hymn" of the Imperial Fists.

In the reflection of the observation window, Aoyi could be seen walking toward the central control console, her silver-white armor shifting with moonlight-like halos with every step.

She reached out and lightly touched the control panel, a complex star map immediately unfolding in the air to mark the routes of all refugee fleets currently sailing toward Mar Sara.

"The third batch of Protoss refugees will arrive in seven hours," her voice echoed throughout the entire bridge. "They include three High Templar and their escort fleet, and Praetor Kores Ta of Kares has confirmed that they will bring the complete archives."

Dorn nodded slightly, the servo-system of his armor emitting a low, resonant hum.

He turned toward the main control console, his massive palm hovering above the tactical hologram: "Notify the orbital defense array to enter Level 2 alert status. Any unidentified vessels shall undergo comprehensive scanning beyond the cordon without exception."

His voice was like quenched steel from a forge, carrying