Grand Most High Executor Mru'udaDa'ay had been assigned to ship task force of the Executor Fleet heading to TerraSol to teach the primates the meaning of Lanaktallan supremacy. He had undergone the neural template application and the memory implants and the mnemonic training like the rest of the Most Highs of the Fleet and the crews of the ships and even the lowliest maintenance worker.

During the rest of the trip, almost six months, he had felt... well... weird.

His joints had ached. His uniforms had fit poorly and had to be retailored. He was hungrier all the time to the point where he had asked the ship's doctor to check him for some kind of parasite.

He had always been a large Lanaktallan. Larger than his peers, calmer in many ways. He was renown for his analytical skills and pattern recognition as well as his devotion to the Great Herd.

Now he was much taller than the others. A full head above them.

His crew would not admit it, but his presence calmed them. Made them feel more able to complete their tasks, more confident.

The headaches had ceased when the others continued.

He wasn't sure why he had suffered the problem. The ship's doctor said that perhaps so long in hyperspace he may have been effected by the energies. He wasn't the only one. The entire Task Force had been drawn from the Hulmouta System, crewed exclusively by the Executors of that system.

According to the ship's doctor, many in the Task Force, especially those in important and leadership positions were showing the same symptoms.

Mro'odaDa'ay had thought about having his fleet drop out of hyperspace, but instead had kept on with the mission to destroy TerraSol and put these primates in their place.

The Executor Fleet was meant to be the final hammer blow to crack open the primate's defenses and allow the combined fleet to ensure the end of the TerraSol System.

When the ships of his Task Force, which had a nine digit number that looked oddly like a rough spelling of the nu'utooroo fruit on the planet he had grown up, dropped from hyperspace to outside the orbit of the furthest planet but inside the Oort Cloud, he had immediately ordered his Task Force to cease movement.

His crew did not argue even as he stared at the Task Force number for his fleet.

It was odd. He had started to notice months ago that some things with absolutely no relationship to a second object sometimes reminded him or vaguely appeared like that second object. The patterning of the Most High Navigator of his vessel, for instant, reminded him of smiling Gupti Squeaklings. He didn't know why, but every time he saw the Most High Navigator he was reminded of the neo-sapient infants.

It was odd.

"Scanner, what is the status of the Corporate Fleet?" Mru'udaDa'ay asked, sitting in his command cradle.

The Most High Scanner Technician looked up from his instruments. "They appear to be completely destroyed, Most High."

"Harumph," Mru'udaDa'ay answered, examining his own screens. "The Military Fleet?"

"50% and dropping. The Terra planetary batteries are still engaging them at point blank range," the tech said.

"What is the firing time for each cannon of a planetary siege battery? In minutes is fine," Mru'uDa'ay asked.

The scanner tech hummed to himself and looked up. "Twelve shots a minute," the tech said. "I checked twice. Even the siege guns on the ninth planet, which is currently still breaking apart, are firing at least ten shots a minute."

That made Mru'udaDa'ay curl his tendrils in surprise. Most planetary batteries could only fire once every ten or fifteen minutes.

"What about their nCv Cannon Batteries?" Mru'udaDa'ay asked.

"Fifteen to twenty a minute. Almost as if they weren't firing such massive shells," the scanner tech said.

"Sir, course?" His Most High Navigator asked.

Mru'udaDa'ay shook his head. "No. Keep engines at full stop. Drop the battle-screens, particle and debris shields only. Take our guns offline."

"May I ask why, Most High?" the gunner officer asked.

Mru'udaDa'ay stared at his screen. "This is an unwinnable fight, and I will not cost the Great Herd talented and able bodied individuals such as those who make up my crews," he said.

"What will you do?" the Navigator asked.

"We will wait. Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps a ship will land a lucky shot and disable a shield. Perhaps Terra itself will suddenly break up," Mru'udaDa'ay said.

"And perhaps nupti birds will burst from my anal cavity and sing us all a song," A'arkretak, Grand Most High of the Ground Forces said. He turned and looked at Mru'udaDa'ay. "Fighting the Terrans on the ground would be like a cud expecting not to be chewed when it is put in the mouth. Primates excel at ground combat and these primates have known nothing but war their entire existence."

"I concur," Kleka'atak, Grand Most High of Aerospace Fighters stated. "We have taken horrendous casualties already and the only planet that appears to have broken up is one that barely qualifies as a planetary body."

"And it still fights on," A'arkretak noted. "Any other species would have stopped fighting."

The lights blinked for a moment.

"Inform Engineering that we may have electrical issues," Mru'udaDa'ay stated.

"Or it's the Terran Electronic Warfare having found and boarded us," Kleka'atak said. His mother had named him after the sound the nupti birds made in the evening.

"GIVE THAT MAN A CIGAR!" roared out over the speakers. A Terran female's voice. "Well well well. This is interesting. Why aren't you moving in with the others?"

"The fight is lost. We would retreat if we could, but that option is unavialable," Mru'udaDa'ay stated, signaling at his bridge crew to remain calm. "However, unlike my people, I do believe yours say: surrender or be destroyed."

"Yes, yes we do," the voice said. The holotank flickered and a Terran appeared. She was entirely made out of light with streaming lines of code running through her. "Give the orders to the other ships to continue standing down and I won't rip this ship apart around you."

"Coms. You heard her. Pass on my instructions. Remain in position, all offensive systems offline," Mru'udaDa'ay ordered.

The Communications Most High nodded and signaled. When he got the responses he looked up. "All ships acknowledge, Grand Most High."

"You are one of the Terran Confederacy's Digital Sentiences," A'arkretak stated.

"Yes. Very astute," the DS said. "I am Oort Singer-98832, Colonel, Terran Defense Force."

"The way your code flows to approximate human clothing to replicate modesty is strange but pleasing to the eye," Kleka'atak stated.

"It's what?" Singer asked.

"Your gloves, the edges look like the edges of stellipa plants, who's fragrance is pleasing," the Most High Gunnery Officer said. "Your outfit is aesthetically pleasing."

"Shit," Oort said. She held out a blot of code. "Does this remind any of you anything?"

Each crew member looked at Mru'udaDa'ay, who nodded, cocking his head and looking at the blot.

The answered varied, a few argued and moved to see it from another member of the bridge crew's position and either agreed or argued it looked like something else.

"All right, I'm calling in reinforcements to help me out. Do you surrender?" Oort asked.

"Do I have your oath to treat my men with the respect and dignity my people would not afford you?" Mru'udaDa'ay asked.

She sighed. "Yes. Keep your drives, tactical systems, weapons, and battlescreens offline. I'll mark you as surrendered."

Mru'udaDa'ay nodded as his bridge crew made sounds and postures of relief. "Your oath is appreciated. I do not wish to throw my men's lives away."

Oort stared for a long moment. "You know, a lot of you in this fleet are bigger than most Lanaktallan. Any reason?"

"Our world is high gravity, almost a third again the gravity of your world. Perhaps that is it?" A'arkretak said.

"Huh. Another data point. Man, I hate weird stuff and you bio-people are weird. All right, hold tight, we'll sit out the fight out here," Oort said.

"You do not think my people will prevail?" one of the crew asked.

Oort shook her head. "No. Striking Terra has never worked."

There was silence on the bridge.

"May we bring up our scanners?" Mru'udaDa'ay asked.

"Sure. We've got a good seat, we might as well watch," Oort said. She summoned up a chair with the wave of her hand. "Your other ships are boarded. Odd, all of you are bigger than normal. I wonder why."

Mru'udaDa'ay just made a non-commital motion and watched as the screen came on.

It was regrettable, what was happening. He would have stopped the others if he could.

But he could not.

He could only watch and feel sadness as the Military Fleet made the same mistakes as the Corporate Fleet, followed by the Executor Fleet making the same mistakes.

There was just something strange.

About it all.

He knew, right then, that the attacks on the other systems were doomed to fail also.

He didn't know how.

He just knew.

It was strange.