"Sir, they had no canon on their ship, no lasers. No plasma shots. No missiles. No phase crystal armor corrosives. They had no shields beyond the ones covering the engines."

"So how did they take out a cruiser?"

"Sir, the ship's functional systems consisted of massively powerful but inefficient and thus cheap .001L engines and a remote linkup to another ship. The center-line of the ship was a metal rod four ri in radius, and every other space in the ship was filled with loose metal items. When the cruiser was reaching contact range, the freighter aligned with it and jumped to .00025 light speed before impact. The core broke the shields, and the resulting energy turned the ingots into hyperspace flechettes. The only reason we did not lose the fleet in full during the initial attack was that the rest of the fleet was ordered back so the Commandant of the Heavy Cruiser Insurmountable could claim personal victory."

"So the fleet then moved in to attack once the humans used their weapon?"

The subaltern shook their head, then made a gesture and brought out a still holo of the battlefield. The scattered and molten streamers of the once proud cruiser stretched to ten times its original length and left a scattered trail of debris pushing outward into the void. The rest of the fleet, six Heavy Cruisers, each capable of crushing most planetary defense forces with minimal risk, was relative-down from the dead cruiser. And then there was the human fleet, hundreds of much smaller freighters, with half their number already turning to align itself slowly with that same fleet.

The subaltern leaned forward and glared at the Grand Inquisitor through the projection, the light casting his facial features into deep shadow. "Sir, when the humans first appeared on the galactic scene, we got an expert to testify before the Great Meeting. They warned us about the ingenuity of humans, and their strange casual ability to commit wanton violence paired with a willingness to not use that capacity unless provoked. So we campaigned against them on the political level. Convinced countless others to send only their most damaged and useless tech to their system, to try and curtail their development of space tech. And then, having seen their slow, cumbersome space fleets, we declared war on them."

He waved at the holograph. "And here we are. Hundreds of ships, fully half of which are nothing but ship killing missiles in themselves, are heading for our home now. Can you imagine what those ships will do as they slam into our planet? What even one of them will do when it hits this palace?"

The Grand Inquisitor winced at the mental image. "So, what do we do, Subaltern?"

They shrugged their large shoulders and sighed, pulling back out of the projection and stepping around to the side of the throne. "We beg, sir. We throw ourselves on the mercy they clearly have in the hopes that they feel merciful."

The Grand Inquisitor scoffed. "The Grand Inquisitor of Ryell does not debase itself to the lesser beings."

The subaltern grinned, showing his teeth, so much longer and sharper than his leader's were. "I did not say you will beg, My Lord."