Black Ships Before Haigion
an excerpt

The darkness was not so much an emptiness, the absence of light, as the light was the absence of darkness. The eyes of the ships lit each other and the smaller craft of the vanguard, fiery metal miles away.
The lieutenant-in-command glanced down. Everything -- the ships, the darkness, the absence thereof -- tilted, panned and focused with the movements of his head. Crackling filled his helmet, the voices of the other pilots and of the ships almost indistinguishable from each other. His own squadron lay silent, drifting forward with the fleet. Their small machines drifted above the fleet, or below. The light was as massive as they were small, illuminating, each ship's sheen a wall.
But you can't argue with someone who only follows an ideal.