Itâs a common wisdom among our strategists; Terrans as suicidal savages. Their gestation cycles are too long, the young are completely incapable of caring for themselves for more than 15 of their stellar orbits, and their social structure seems to elevate the loudest to the highest echelons of their leadership⊠Most sentient races are simply content to write them off as insane and avoid their systems all-together.
They are insane, inherently self destructive, but that isnât the whole story. I know them better; Iâve fought them and have seen the beautiful pattern beneath their madness.
Donât cross your elytrum at me! Iâm being absolutely serious. Have you never stopped to wonder how an entire colony world fell in less than 4 hours?
The official reports state that we lost the Decalarus system because the Terransâ reckless assault was impossible to predict and the loss of communications prevented our units on the ground from regrouping and effectively containing their forces. I was the exarch of the fourth hiveâs defense station on Decalarus during the battle. Almost as soon as it started, it became obvious that our orbital stations were too much for the Terrans; their ships were being destroyed almost as soon as they materialized in orbit. Many in my command menapple suggested that our ground troops should be permitted to stand down, but something kept me from giving the order⊠I felt it in my legs; something was wrong.
In short order, the Terranâs flagship was crippled and began to drop stricken into the atmosphere. Scans indicated that they had lost 90% of their control and there was some concern that the hulk was going to slam into the fourth hive, but the ship seemed to struggle into a ballistic path that directed them towards the northern swamps. As it passed overhead, the flagship shed debris that rained into the population centers, damaging a section of the above-ground residence areas, but that was a relief. To be honest, I was surprised that they hadnât crashed into the hive intentionally (Iâd read reports of such suicidal attacks from crippled vessels in the past), but figured that this crew wanted to garner some mercy from us when they surrendered. Before the wreck had even hit the marsh, I dispatched my armored platforms to encircle the crash site and sent engineering teams into the hive to assess damage from the fallen wreckage.
The wreck hadnât even fully settled when we got the first reports from the hive⊠Frantic calls for help, declarations that Terran troops were in the city in countless number, and demands for orders. I requested clarifying information, but the power grid went down before I could understand what was happening. Oh, how my antennae burn at the memory⊠How could Terrans be in the hive? No dropship had touched down and the only ship was fully 90 rakata away in a swamp. Then, to make the situation worse, Terran armored platforms began pouring from the stricken flagship and slammed into our lines. They didnât form ranks; they simply attacked as a horde. They hit us and then kept pressing until they were in our formations. We werenât even fully arrayed for containment yet, so their wild attack was horrifyingly effective. Less than an hour after they emerged, we were falling back to the defense base.
It was already destroyed by the time we got there. Instead of entrenched sanctuary, we found power armor-clad Terran infantry. They attacked, leaping into our midst and reducing our number by another 20% before our armored units were able to close ranks against them. As soon as we were arrayed against the new threat, the Terran forces from the ship were at our back. The situation spiraled out of control before I could even formulate a defensive tactic and it wasnât long before I called for surrender.
When the smoke cleared and we were taken, I was finally able to get a grasp on the situation. The debris that had fallen on the hive was camouflage for drop-pods full of their infantry. They werenât engineered for low-altitude drops, so they lost a third of their number to mechanical failure, but the survivors were enough to sow chaos and destroy our infrastructure. Then, they leapt the four easy rakata to our base and smashed it flat while communications were still reeling.
The worst part? Between the crashâs survivors and the armored troops, the Terrans numbered less than a thousand. We outnumbered them 7.5 to 1, but they battered us into surrender before we could even organize an effective defense.
As the most superior exarch in colony, I demanded to speak with the brilliant tactician that had so handily defeated us. I expected a shiplord, or at the very least a sub-altern, but the Terrans led me to a medical officer. I protested the joke, but was stunned into silence when it was revealed that the medical officer was the ranking commander of their forces. Their regular leadership had been killed in the space battle, and this mere healer had asserted command and put their offensive together with no preparation.
You may call them mad or savage, but you will only doom yourself to underestimate the pink apes. No other species so readily commands chaos on the battlefield. They thrive on it; swimming in it while we flail and drown. If you go to battle with the Terrans, you would do well to heed one of their oldest sayings; expect the unexpected. A paradox, certainly, but that is simply how they are⊠I can only hope that you learn this lesson more rapidly than I did.
-Exarch Te'tepzth'ra, Memoirs From Decalarus
