It is, as always, a question of scale.
Watch that fleet of craft entering the atmosphere. They have traveled distances that would make our minds recoil in horror. Make no mistake, this is an attack fleet. It has come to wage war on our home.
But we have our defenses, and no one will even be aware of our impending doom.
***
Antennae twitched. They had picked up unknown movement above the cloud above.
There was uncertainty, however, as to the size of the unknown. Was it many or one?
Adjustments were made – both height and positioning – but clarification was not forthcoming.
If possible, direct contact should be avoided. No matter how superior the force, combat was unpredictable. Losses would always be incurred. A gas was deployed. It should be enough to repel most enemies.
The unknown reacted, changed its path. Rather than passing overhead, it turned and circled.
There was nothing for it. A decisive strike was called for
Movement was tracked, trajectories calculated and, with lightning speed, an attack delivered.
**
The species was originally matriarchal. Though it had evolved beyond the triality of gender, the old nomenclature was hard to shake off.
“Mistress, we are detecting life below Cloud 2. It is moving slightly, and sensors suggest it could be scanning us.
The figurehead thought on this before announcing “If it sees us, it is of no importance. It will be crushed by the might of our attack. Proceed, sisters.”
The fleet carried on.
“Mother. The hostile has released a gas. Initial readings say it is merely hormonal, but it could be how this species attacks.”
“Turn and analyse. If it proves hostile, we shall claim First Blood.
The attack broke through the clouds while the sample was being processed
It was swift as it was brutal.
The Mothership was severed in a single blow. Two more strikes followed, destroying the Royal Guard Ships. None of the attacks even registered on the ships’ systems.
The fury stunned the rest of the fleet; a new fleet mother was hastily adopted, orders were given and the planet was marked “Hostile” by the rapidly retreating invasion force.
***
The event was witnessed by no one.
The Preying Mantis, on the branch of a tree, preened itself in the early morning mist. If it was able it might have pondered on what it had attacked.
The audience, however, may now meditate on the question of scale.
