Constantine blinks awake, his vision blurred, his ears ringing, a muffled voice speaking to him, as he focuses it becomes clearer, "Sir, sir are you alright? I think he's waking up, Centurion!" As Constantine's vision clears fully and his ears cease their ringing, the Centurion comes into view, "You sir are one lucky bastard, but thank the god's a lucky bastard is what we needed." Constantine strains as he tries to stand up, a couple of sailors quickly go to help him, "Did it work?" The Centurion chuckles, "Well, why don't you come and see for yourself?" Constantine is helped along onto the balcony around the bridge, the storms calming and giving way to the moonlight, off the starboard side lies the remains of Vercingetorix, her hull split in two and slowly sinking, explosions going off deep beneath her shattered hull. Sailors on the deck of the Ceasar cheer and jeer at the death of the greatest threat to them, a foe they had long awaited to finally kill. The Trumpeter comes behind Constantine, who is smiling at the corpse of Vercingetorix, "Sir, the cruisers report their making good progress in taking down the transports, they even managed to get in front of them and slow them down drastically, though a few did get through, and Command is asking for a status report as well" Constantine looks a while longer at the corpse of Vercingetorix, and the remains of his ships littering the seas, "Tell command Vercingetorix has kneeled once more, although at a heavy sacrifice, and let the cruisers know we're on the way and to save a few for us", the Trumpeter gave a quick nod, "Yessir" before running off to relay the message. The cheers are cut short as the Centurion yells orders at the sailors, quickly getting back to work on repairing the damage done. Constantine sits in a seat on the bridge having his wounds taken care of, looking out over the bow of the ship, at the eagle that still sits there, battered, burned, and broken, but still standing tall after such a killing blow, an eagle that resembles her Empire well.