"We faced scattered regiments barely several hundred strong, dug in to entrenched positions. Looking back, knowing those men knew they would not leave that position alive, I honour them. Our energy shields are powerful, but the human tactics were impressive. Overlapping fields of fire, and defensive positions laced with traps and natural obstacles. Every time we faced a hundred humans, we sent three hundred of our kind to crush them, and barely half would make it back. For two days we marched, our progress delayed by snipers, traps and defensive formations. But it barely put a dent in our numbers. Then again, it wasn't meant to."
"Finally, we found what we figured the humans were protecting. A defensive line had been formed on the opposite sides of one of the plains of the planet, their left flank protected by a canyon, their right flank by a mountain. We should have known something was wrong, but we were too confident by then. We arrayed ourselves for battle, chanting our war songs and screaming for blood. Within an hour we believed we had shaken the humans enough and charged."
"They held the line. No matter what we threw at them they held the line. Their forward positions monitored our tactics and transmitted back their data, so every trick we had, they knew how to counter. Those men had given their lives so their fellows had a chance. And, of course, time."
"Why do I specify time? Simple, fellow Ghali. It was a trap. Our entire forces were arrayed on this plain against their defensive formation. A kilometer long, we never considered the idea of flanking them - we meet our enemies head on - or of trying to land troops elsewhere. We are the best because we face our foe where they are strongest, and beat them there. Or so we thought. It was four hours into the fight, a brief respite from the battle, when word came out. 'Scatter. It is falling.'"