Narrator:Meanwhile, halfway across the galaxy, a fleet of warships teraports into the Qlavo system.
Narrator:They emerge in an unswept strand of Qlavo's Kuiper Belt, ten light-hours from the blue-green jewel Qlaviql, a pastoral paradise that is home to fifteen billion slender, blue-skinned people.
Narrator:The people aboard the warships have no particular quarrel with the people of Qlaviql. . .
Narrator:They just want to kill them all and have the world for their own.
Admiral Tebbir:All ships, all power to launchers. . .
Narrator:A few thousand depleted uranium projectiles, each no larger than a roll of Terran toilet paper, accelerated to 250,000 kilometers per second, should do the trick.
Admiral Tebbir:Plot Targets, and fire when acquired.
Narrator:In twelve hours these bullets will begin striking the arcologies of Qlaviql, whose orbital defenses have been stripped away in months of skirmishing.
Narrator:That's the plan, anyway. When the inactive qlavo wormgate becomes active again, things start going wrong for the attackers.
Tohdfraug Lieutenant:Sir, I'm detecting massive gravitic activity. . . The projectiles have been deflected.
Admiral Tebbir:Locate the source. There's obviously a point defense we've missed.
Tohdfraug Lieutenant:It's gone now, sir. And. . . Um. . . So is the Qlavo system.
Tohdfraug Lieutenant:Sir, do you think we used too much uranium?
Petey:That's on my list of "things you did wrong," yes.