The evening was warm, with a comfortable breeze that carried the scent of flowers across the lawn. Festivity lights were scattered about, providing decoration to the lawn. The fountain, which had borne silent witness to many plots, burbled as the water cascaded down, lit by different color lights to produce a pleasing effect.

The music was soft, tinkling, a comfortable counterpoint to the conversations, even though the majority of guests weren't used to music at all.

The guests mingled, many of them slowly overcoming their anxiety at the presence of the minority of guests. They trotted about the lawn, sipping at expensive wines and champagnes, nibbling on delicacies, the lawn comfortable beneath their hooves. Their sashes were ornamented, their vests expensive, their flank coverings lavish. The females wore jewelry that sparkled and glittered. The males wore their badges of rank and office.

Mingling through the crowd were the newcomers. Bipedal with only two arms, only two eyes, only facial hair adorning their flat faces. They were large, dense bone and muscle from evolving on a high gravity world, their two eyes forward facing and as intent as any predator's stare, made moreso by the intellect that shown in their eyes. Their mouths were full of meat tearing and plant grinding teeth, silent testimony that to them, anything that fit in their mouth was food. Their hands were strong, with firm, almost painful, grips. They were capable of grip strength to allow them to hold their entire body weight with their hands, and their arms were powerful enough to allow them to lift themselves up by their strong hands. Their legs were thick and muscled, power and endurance built into the muscle structure.

The majority, a four legged herbivore race, were very aware of the predators in their midst.

It was more than their physique. Their intellect was sharp, penetrating, and deductive. Many of the majority were surprised by the predator's ability to hold intelligent conversations on esoteric topics, from corporate profit margins to manufacturing techniques to military theory to philosophy and political thought.

The longer the party went on, the more nervous some became.

Not just because of the predators. They were enough to cause anxiety.

No, it was the host of the party, who stood with the primate predators, often laughing at their jokes, holding intricate conversations with them, and seemingly perfectly at ease with them.

They knew the System Most High was different.

Now they could see that he was not only different, he was their superior in every way.

From the way he treated the elderly party guests, to the way he paid attention to the children who he had insisted be allowed to attend, to the way he treated the primates. The party itself was lavish, an outward sign of his power even though he was in exile, but his attitude was less that of a conquered leader and more of a temporarily displaced noble.

The Lanaktallan at the party were in awe of their host.

Mana'aktoo slapped the Terran female on the back as he laughed at her joke. It was a dirty, profane joke, that had left several other Lanaktallan wide eyed with shock. The punchline of "That's not my 256 pin superconductor connector!" had been expected but still amusing to Mana'aktoo as well as the four representatives from the two local xenospecies, all of whom enjoyed a good earthy joke.

Making his apologies, Mana'aktoo trotted away from the low ranking grav-striker mechanic and wound his way through the party-goers, slowly making his way toward Admiral Schmidt. He knew that many high ranking officials, politicians, and hanger-ons disliked his insistence that low ranking beings be invited to his parties and treated well, but the two species that made up the majority of the system's population largely worked in factories, mines, and industrial centers.

They also loved ironic juxtaposition and earthy jokes.

As far as Mana'aktoo was concerned, nearly every being at the party with any ranking could be used for reactor mass and it would only improve the function of the system.

The Admiral was laughing at the joke about the bliss seeking meditative and the out of control ore hauler that had just been told by the Maktanan mining union leader.

Mana'aktoo had heard the joke before and found the fact that, for all of the meditative's claims of being above the physical world and material objects, the out of control ore hauler had crushed the being to death, to be sensibly amusing.

A jocular way of reminding one another that we all live in the physical world despite our lofty claims, Mana'aktoo thought to himself.

"Ah, Most High," the Maktanan said, bowing.

"Former Most High," Mana'aktoo corrected gently.

"Bah, that is polite fiction, even the illustrious Admiral would acknowledge that fact," the union boss chuckled, smoothing one ear. "You are the leader that the Maktanan people desire. Even the Carikan have made their desire to allow you to continue your rule known to the Terrans."

"I am honored and humbled," Mana'aktoo said, pressing his four hands together.

"Well, on that note, if you two high ranking beings will excuse me," the union boss said, making a motion toward a richly dressed female Maktanan. "My wife wishes I attend to her wants and desires."

"Of course," the Admiral said, nodding.

"Give your wife my admiration regarding her exquisite jewelry," Mana'aktoo said.

The union boss gave a pleased flick of his ears and hustled away.

"Your mother is looking well," Admiral Schmidt said, nodding toward where Mana'aktoo's mother was obviously enjoying herself talking to several female Space Force officers. "I am gladdened to hear of her full recovery."

"I thank you," Mana'aktoo answered.

His mother had developed a twisted intestine. While the Lanaktallan doctors wanted to do robotic assisted surgery the Terran Space Force had offered Mana'aktoo's mother the services of their own medical professionals.

The surgery had been entirely non-invasive. An injection of medical robots, all of them extremely tiny, two hours, and his mother had trotted out of the clinic exclaiming how she had hardly felt any discomfort.

"You mother choosing to use our medical facilities has eased a lot of anxiety toward our medical services," Schmidt said.

"Many of my people fear that you will treat them how they would treat you should the situation be reversed," Mana'aktoo said. "Not the Maktanan or Carikan, they have much in common with your people."

Schmidt made a non-committal noise, nodding slowly. The Admiral held up two fingers in a wait motion even though Mana'aktoo had recognized the expression on the Admiral's face. He knew it meant that the Admiral was processing a large amount of information through his implant.

Mana'aktoo felt a small shiver of concern but suppressed it, knowing that others were watching.

The Admiral blinked rapidly, turning to face Mana'aktoo, and again Mana'aktoo felt a slight bit of anxiety at the way the Terran's eyes glowed a soft amber.

They always had, but it had become more and more obvious even to the most unobservant over the last few months.

"Where is Most High Kulamu'u?" the Admiral asked.

"His father became confused a little while ago, mistaking this gala for his retirement ceremony," Mana'aktoo said. "Most High Kulamu'u took him home so he would be less agitated and confused."

The Admiral nodded. "Is his Second Most High present?"

Mana'aktoo nodded, pinging the Second Most High Plu'umo'o, letting the other Lanaktallan know he should present himself with all due haste.

"What is the situation?" Mana'aktoo asked.

"Task Force Agwu just came in-system," Admiral Schmidt said. "They've got casualties."

Mana'aktoo frowned. The idea of another force inflicting casualties on the Terran Space Force seemed almost impossible. "Who attacked them?"

"We should discuss this in private," Schmidt said. He looked at Mana'aktoo. "This involves this system. As the Maktana and Carikan have made it plain they want you in charge, while you may be the Most High in Exile, you still wield enormous influence on the system."

"I will meet you in my office," Mana'aktoo said. He sent a quick datalink message to his manservant to meet the Admiral at the double-doors and escort the Terran and his two bodyguards to Mana'aktoo's office.

Second Most High Plu'umo'o, commander of the system's military forces and one of Mana'aktoo's co-conspirators, came trotting up.

"Go with the Admiral. There is a situation," Mana'aktoo ordered.

The Second Most High saluted, trotting after the Admiral.

Mana'aktoo went looking for the two people he wanted to include. Shonvlin, the Maktana leader, and Sheechilk, the Carikan leader. Both had been put forward by their respective species to act as liaisons to the Terran Space Force, which held the system under martial law.

The two leaders followed Mana'aktoo with no argument, quickly excusing themselves from the conversations they were holding.

Mana'aktoo arrived in his office to see the Space Force Admiral standing by the desk, apparently looking out the window, but Mana'aktoo could see the red telltales on the side of the Admiral's datalink.

The Admiral was quite busy.

Mana'aktoo trotted behind his desk, sitting down and waiting for the arm rests and back rest to swing into position. Once it had he waited, bringing up the holoterminal in the middle of the room.

Finally the Admiral turned and faced everyone.

"Task Force Agwu was patrolling two of the systems nearby when they came under heavy attack by an overwhelming force of the new Precursor Autonomous War Machines," the Admiral said. "They broke action twice, performing a fighting retreat."

Everyone nodded. That was only logical, seeing as the Precursor AWM's were a fearsome opponent.

"Both times the clankers followed them, forcing them into action at the third location, which was between stellar masses," the Admiral said. He tossed up a hologram of the size of the Task Force.

Mana'aktoo didn't consider himself a military genius, but he had educated himself to the realities of the Terran military.

Eight carriers, twelve super-heavy warships, nearly a hundred attendant vessels, fifteen troop ships, two repair and refit ships.

One carrier was gone, two of the super-heavy, three of the troop ships, and sixteen of the attendant vessels.

"In return, Task Force Agwu managed to inflict serious casualties on the Precursors," The Admiral said.

Mana'aktoo looked at the numbers. For every Terran ship destroyed, they'd destroyed thirty-six point two two six of the Precursor ships.

"How many are expected to arrive?" Mana'aktoo asked.

The Admiral nodded. "They were heading this way already," the Admiral said. "Task Force Agwu bought us a few days and are able to warn us of what would have been a significant ambush."

Mana'aktoo could feel Plu'umo'o's tension and underlying anxiety.

"How many of them are coming?" Mana'aktoo asked.

The Admiral tossed the force makeup of the Precursors into the holotank in the middle of the room.

Mana'aktoo stared at the numbers. He nodded slowly, realizing what he was seeing. He turned to Plu'umo'o slowly.

"With the Terran's permission, recall the troops," he stated. "Prepare the shelters, coordinate with Civil Defense."

"You have my permission to defend your world," the Admiral said. He stared at the holotank. "Task Force Anvil is going to have its hands full."

"We will stop them here. They will go no further, and they will kill no more," Mana'aktoo said, staring at the numbers. "We stand against them."

He turned and looked at the others.

"Together."

In the middle of the room the enemy force estimates burned in cold amber light.

Two thousand harvester class.

Incoming.

ETA: Sixty-three hours.