Man, do I love booze. You have no idea how much I love booze. I've spent several minutes facing East, arms out, saying "Whoooo!" because nobody appreciates the 1,000-mph roller-coaster rude of flying through space on the side of nothing more than a ball of rocks.
In retrospect, several alternate uses for our carrier present themselves. We, however, are not the head of a Brood of looking backward, but forward. We are Cerebrate Anon, imbued by the Overmind with insight! We consider our options. We are low on scourge and mutalisks. There is a wall of shuttles preparing for a ground invasion of Aiur, and from the vantage point of our carrier in the system, it seems obvious that the Protoss intend to use the massive batteries of a carrier to sear away a landing zone for those shuttles. We cannot possibly hope to capture or destroy the carrier in time to prevent its firing, having committed our remaining forces to destroying the first carrier to threaten such a strike. We are linked into the combat consciousness of our Brothers, the other Cerebrates, who are more experienced in the ways of war, but no immediate solution presents itself.
Our options are limited.
Our forces converge on the arbiter. As we charge weapons and enter close range, our overlords detect a large contingent of shuttles crowded into the cloaking field surrounding the arbiter.
It's a strike force!
Another arbiter enters the system on the far side of the planet with enough sensor ghosts to equal this group.
We aren't sure if we have the firepower to destroy both groups.