"See you around," Illim nods, watching Keshin go before walking towards the bar. He does not, however, order another drink. Instead, he surveys the room's occupants, speculating on which unhosted individuals would be willing to give up their freedom in return for dangerous subterfuge on behalf of the rebellion. <<Yeah right,>> he snorts.
After a moment, surprised to hear no snarky comeback from Serid, he says, <<You really are worried about me leaving you, aren't you?>>
The nothlit sighs. <<It is a tricky situation. I am uncertain as to the proper route.>>
Illim turns his attention to Serid's thoughts, finding them a baffling mess of Andalite honor, fear, and resistance. Until now, Serid believes that his actions have been more or less honorable, if not respectable. He accepted the initial assignment to Earth from his commander. He had been abandoned by his comrade, rather than the other way around. He had traded his body for that of an alien in order to prevent himself from becoming a morph-capable host. He had been passed from Yeerk to Yeerk and, with the assistance of Illim, had finally been able to achieve something detrimental to the Empire.
If he is freed, though, Serid knows he will have to make a choice between returning to his people or not. Either way... the neat, clean lines of morality will become frayed and tangled. He will be an outcast, even among his own people. All he has to offer them is valuable information, and even that will be quickly depleted.
