Richard's Animorphs Forum
Animorphs Section => Animorphs Role Playing => Topic started by: Terenia on March 03, 2013, 11:40:44 PM
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Here is the Earth. A small, blue-and-green dot in the middle of emptiness.
It becomes smaller and smaller as you move further away from it. You pass the moon.
Mars zips by, Deimos and Phobos. You're moving so fast it's impossible to believe you aren't going to hit every one of those asteroids in the Kuiper Belt.
By the time you reach Saturn, Earth is a little tiny dot. Past Pluto and Charon and into deep space, and Earth is a white speck among millions of others.
The Solar System whizzes away at hyperspeed, and you are looking at the Earth's arm of the Milky Way galaxy.
Up and up, farther and farther away. To the opposite side of the galaxy, on a mirror image of Earth's spiral arm.
Zooming inward, blazing past solar systems, Red Giants, and black holes.
Into a binary system with two stars, one that burns yellow and another, larger star that burns a bright orange.
Around these stars rotate five planets. The first three are burning wastes, and the fourth and fifth, much farther out, are gas giants.
The fourth planet is a big red swirling mass, ringed with seven moons.
The second largest of these moons is a gray and tan craggy mess, with a thin atmosphere through which float wisps of gray, noxious clouds.
At ludicrous speeds you fall into the moon's orbit, then down through the atmosphere, onto a broad gray desert filled with stands of broken rock.
The surface is featureless besides the wind eroded crags...until a perfectly round hole opens in the middle of the rock floor.
Red light beams briefly through it, and up cruises an invisible Bug fighter--cloaked except for the red takeoff lights. In a moment these, too, vanish with the rest of the ship.
Down into the black cylinder, a tunnel interspersed with periodic flashes of white lights that ring its sides. Dark, then light. Over and over, deep into the earth.
The tunnel emerges into the ceiling of a great, big underground docking bay.
The room is ringed with smaller ship bays, carved out of the metal. Glowing holoscreens hover above computer consoles near swinging double doors that lead to the base beyond.
It is alive. Humans, Hork-Bajir and a handful of Taxxons scurry around the metal tiled surface of the bay, as busy as any Imperial space port. It is the home of the Yeerk Rebellion.
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Terenia pushes open the double doors to the base's mess hall. It is as cacophonous as ever, and she winces against the sound of dozens of conversations mingling together. Running a hand through her tangled blonde hair, her eyes scan the crowd briefly before she goes over to the line and grabs a tray.
Pushing the plastic tray down the standard, cafeteria-style line, she glances up at the workers, grateful she isn't on the oft-reviled 'cabbage duty'. A female Hork-Bajir hands her a plate of steaming cabbage and tomato sauce and she puts it on her tray with a grimace, hurrying off towards the drink table, where she grabs a ceramic mug of recycled water.
"Great," she mutters to herself, looking around. It is definitely lunch hour. There isn't an empty table in the place. Terenia scowls and takes an unoccupied corner of a long table, glancing down at the other occupants briefly before pulling out her comm link and typing a quick message.
Hey Corliss, just got a breather for lunch. Care to join or are you too busy saving the galaxy? She smirks a little, pockets her link, and sets about consuming her cabbage.
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Derrel sat at a table with his food, enjoying every bite. Eating time was fun time.
<I realize you've been malnourished all your life, Derrel, but eventually you're going to have to ease off.> Xevec said as he watched his host eat. Though he tried to do things like call his host friendly things like partner or friend, he was still getting used to the idea of treating non Yeerks as equals. The difference between the Empire and the rebellion was dramatic, but in some ways pleasant. <You're going to get fat. Unhealthy.>
<Eating too much is such a foreign concept to me.>
<Yes, we've both had big changes in our lives.> He turned Derrel's head towards the door, which he was sitting near. The people around him didn't look like they were about to jump on him or anything.
<Will you stop turning my head? No one is going to attack us. You have no reason to believe they would.>
<That doesn't mean they won't.>
-
It is a few long moments before Corliss' reply pops up on Terenia's holoscreen.
Yeah, something equally important, I'm sure. Give me a minute, I'll see if I can break away.
While Terenia waits, the loud and hungry milieu settles down only a little. The shifts on base had eased a bit after their hourly schedule had reverted back to a 24-hour day from the despised--and often ignored--37-hour one.
Someone nearby clears his throat. "Hey, uh. Terenia. Is this seat taken?" Niko Yorgiadis asks with a lopsided grin, holding a black tray of the exact same soggy vegetable dish that Terenia is poking at. "It's packed in here. Besides, I uh, never talk to strangers."
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Terenia looks up from Corliss' response, a little surprised at being addressed by Gene's partner. "Niko, hey," she says cautiously. "Um...sure, have a seat. Unless this is, like, some secret plot to get payback for me shooting you that one time." She gives him a small smile to show that she is kidding. Mostly.
As she slides aside to allow room for Niko her gaze briefly catches Derrel's. She gives him a curt nod, recognizing him as the host she met Illim in at the Space Bar, then looks away.
-
Firin hums ladders of major scales in Rythil's somewhat harsh voice as his scaled fingers run their way over the old-style physical computer keyboard. Some of the more-advanced systems have holo-interfaces...but the cabbage irrigation system, while important, isn't particularly demanding.
He clicks his tongue as he notices an error further up in the program and starts to rewrite the code. <You need to account for the beta-line pressure too...>
Firin grimaces at his host's astute observation. He does a quick mental calculation and makes the correction in the computer's logarithm. <This is a waste of my mental capacity.>
<It's important, Fir. Everyone on the base relies on this system.> Rythil watches through his own eyes as Firin puts the finishing touches on the adjusted program.
<I should be thinking about things like matter conversion, not sprinkler systems.> Firin continues humming outwardly. He switches from major to minor scales and starts at the bottom again.
<You're lucky I can follow your train of thought.> Rythil chuckles internally. <While I too dream of the day when we can pick up a handful of soil and transmute it into a big, meaty slab of Ktchunga bark, this is more realistic.>
Firin rolls his eyes and executes the new program. The sprinklers spring back to life in a new, alternating pattern. The changes would increase irrigation efficiency by ten percent.
<Another great success!> Rythil grins internally.
Firin uses Rythil's respiratory system to snort in derision. These rebels...their ideals are good...but their technology and resource...well, they leave something to be desired.
<Speaking of Ktchunga bark...I'm famished. Let's head upstairs and get me some of that tasteless Poplar bark and I'll pretend it's Ktchunga.>
<Fine.> Firin turns control back over to Rythil and retreats to his own mental world.
Rythil nods to the individual waiting to work with the cabbage...a human male he doesn't know the name of, even after all this time, and walks his way up to the mess hall. Such a strange name for such a clean room...
The noise of voices doesn't bother Rythil. In fact, they're like a warm blanket, enveloping him with comfort. He makes his way to the specialty line and watches as one of the attendants hands him a tray with a couple of large chunks of Poplar Bark. He smiles despite his dislike for the cheap, plentiful bark and nods, picking up a large glass of water. He notices Valerie in the back, trying to manage the rush and waves as she looks up from her task. She raises an eyebrow and he nods in response...the update had been finished and was working. She smiles in response before returning to her tasks.
Rythil turns to look over the common area. There is, indeed, a table built for Hork-Bajir...but most weren't much for conversation. The humans tend to be more interesting. He spots Niko and grins as he walks over to sit across from his theoretical physics partner. "Hey." He picks up a piece of Poplar and chews a corner off, trying to ignore the bland blah-ness of it.
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"...transfer RNA... analogous to crystal matrix... Z-space folding... hrmn."
<Soren.>
Mmhmmn? "...Hork-Bajir leukocytes in six- no, seven varieties, evolution past quantum virus fallibility..."
<Soren, look at the clock.>
Whaddaboutit? "...analogous to Crocodylus niloticus, but lacking multiply-redundant circulatory system features and hyper-coagulative platelets..."
<Soren, it's time to feed the body. You'll collapse if you don't eat something, for once, and then where will I be? They'll have to shelve us in the med bay again on a saline drip, like last time.>
Soren blinked once, twice, and glanced up at the clock. It did, in fact, read the time Mal had stated. His stomach was, in fact, making plaintive noises... now that he bothered to pay attention to it. He boxed the slides of Hork-Bajir and crocodile blood, turned off his microscope and the other equipment he'd spent the last three hours hunched over, tucked his pen into a protected pocket, and thumped an out-of-date Earth textbook closed, not bothering to mark the page. Each page had its margins densely covered with notes taken in two sets of handwriting, but they wouldn't forget their place. Soren rubbed at his none-too-recently shaven beard, which grew in a puzzling blonde-red against the rest of his brightly blonde hair.
Ah. Right. Okay. All yours, Doc.
Doctor Maliss-274 assumed more direct control of the body he shared with Doctor Soren Hagerty, standing up straighter and stretching their arms over their head, wincing a bit as their spine made decompressive popping noises. He shut the lab closed behind them and slipped into the cafeteria, making a beeline first for the crappy (but black, at least it's hot and black!) coffee. He topped off their "I <3 Protozoa" mug and grabbed a tray, not paying much attention to what was being served. The tables were all packed, so he settled for one with a dense crowd of Hork-Bajir, swinging his legs away from the table and using his lap as a platform to eat. Mal had managed to get chummy enough with a few of them, so they'd freely give blood samples when he asked. (Better than I'd have done.) <Are you kidding? For a member of a social species, you have got to be the most socially inept human I have ever encountered, and that is saying something.> Mal rolled their eyes indulgently, more than willing to forgive his host's social ineptitude, since this tradeoff came with all the intelligence of an unambiguously brilliant and dedicated xenobiologist.
They ate their lunch quietly and moved to dispose of their tray. The cabbage wasn't spectacular, but it would keep the body running, and that was the whole point of this 'lunch' exercise, right?
They walked back toward the coffee carafe, intent on a refill before heading back to the lab.
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At a separate table sat a black seventeen year old, picking through his lunch for the best looking parts. His name was Steven, and he had been Xevec's slave before the rebellion. He was actually happy there was a group of Yeerks that didn't treat hosts like property. Too bad they weren't the ones who ran the Sharing. Then after he joined to do some good in the world, he wouldn't have had to watch helplessly as his family was taken. The worst thing Xevec did was ignore him, and he was pretty much giving the Yeerk the silent treatment. He hadn't volunteered to take a different Yeerk, and they hadn't forced one in him, so all things considered this was an improvement.
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Terenia looks up in surprise when Rythil joins them. Then she quickly looks down again, busying herself with eating. The Hork-Bajir, like most Hork-Bajir, makes her uncomfortable, for reasons she cannot quite pinpoint. She considers excusing herself, but abruptly finds herself out of control of the decision.
<<No, I don't want to make friends,>> Terenia complains as Esreth wrenches control away from her.
<<You can't limit yourself to speaking with Corliss and Illim for the rest of your life,>> the Yeerk chides, raising Terenia's head and smiling brightly at Rythil. "Hey, how are you?" she asks cheerfully, popping a piece of cabbage in her mouth and chewing slowly.
Soren's mission for coffee is somewhat delayed by the fourteen-year-old girl standing at the table, pouring a mug for herself. She seems intent on pouring just the right amount, dark eyes squinting as she increases the volume drop by drop.
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Soren cleared his throat once in polite impatience.
How long does she plan to take? I want to get back to the lab!
<Take it easy, it's just a kid, and your slides aren't going anywhere.>
You wouldn't be saying 'take it easy' if we needed to get back to med bay for a patient.
<If I had a patient waiting on me, I wouldn't be worrying about coffee.>
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Rythil turns his gaze on the human woman sitting at the same table as she speaks and he smiles back...not a particularly comforting expression on a Hork-Bajir, but no less-genuine for it. "Hi...Terenia and Esreth right?" He thanks Firin's eidetic memory for that one...though he'd seen the human girl any number of times, they'd never really spoken much. Usually the girl left the room before any conversation could be had.
He shrugs. "As good as can be expected I suppose, eating this tasteless paper-bark." Rythil grimaces at the tray, but smiles again as he reestablishes eye contact with the woman. "The cabbage irrigation overhaul worked...ten percent increase in usage efficiency. Not much else going on at the moment really." He chuckles briefly.
Firin sighs internally at the comment about the irrigation efficiency, wanting to shake Rythil's head dejectedly, but refrains.
"You?" He takes another bite of Poplar, careful not to grimace over it.
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The young woman looks up in surprise, apparently having been so focused on her task that she did not notice Soren's approach.
"Oh, hi!" she says with a surprising amount of exuberance. Placing the carafe on the table, she steps aside, coffee mug clutched in one hand. Her other makes its way through her long, dark spiral curls as she eyes Soren curiously, brows furrowing a little.
"I know who you are," she says, tilting her head. Her manner of speaking is a little hyperactive, the words tumbling from her mouth so quickly that they tend to run together. "Doug told me about you. You're the one who works in the med bay but never actually comes out of your room, right? You're a pirate, yeah? Doug just took on a new Yeerk recently who was one of the pirates. Thenak? He's a biologist, so Doug was transferred into the med bay to help with some stuff. He's basically a nurse, but I think it's kind of cute. So what's your name, anyway?"
She finally halts the barrage of comments and questions, pausing to take a deep breath.
"Esreth right now," she says with a smile. "We're doing well, though Terenia is being grouchy. You know, I hear Dom is working on improving the food selection for the humans on base. Maybe you should talk to him and see if anything can be done for the bark as well. I don't know if that's something he could do or not, but I definitely feel for you on the bland food front." She takes a big bite of cabbage to prove her point, sighing a little.
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<You want to go talk to that Terenia girl? She needs more friends.> Xevec said.
<I don't make a habit of making friends with people who don't want to make friends with me. That whole Efaen thing was a big turn off anyway. I don't want to talk to Terenia anymore than you want to talk to Steven. It's just awkward for both parties.>
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Upon being addressed, Soren froze, staring blankly at the girl talking to him.
What do I-
<Coffee. You're here for coffee. Relax; I've got this one.>
Mal took over and reached for the carafe, talking as he poured. "I'm Maliss two-seven-four, physician, and my host here is Doctor Soren Hagerty, xenobiologist. It's nice meeting you; I can't say I recognize you, so you must not be one of the pirates. What's your name?"
He finished pouring the coffee and set the carafe back on the buffet table, turning back toward the girl but not really making eye contact. He stepped clear of the coffee line so that others could get to it.
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"Making a new friend, Edith?" comes Illim's lazy and perpetually amused-sounding voice from behind Soren and Mal. He gives a congenial grin to the taller man and then a wink to Edith. Despite his host's former life as a professor, Illim keeps Daniel in a relaxed slouch, making his already not-impressive height of five feet and four inches look all the shorter. "Tell me where you're sitting and I'll snag us a spot. I wanna catch up on base gossip. Ya know, so long as it doesn't involve me."
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"Yo! Illim! Daniel!" Derrel said when he noticed his buddy. He waved from his table, and waited for a response. There was still a spot or two at his table free, though he hadn't specifically reserved a seat in case any of his friends had come by. He just sat at the usual close-to-the-door spot Xevec always liked to sit at. Xevec was too paranoid to really want to sit in the middle of the room in case something happened. Not that anything ever did.
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"I'm Edith Reyes," the girl responds promptly, giving Illim a little smile and sticking her tongue out at him briefly. "And I'm not all that much of a gossip, not really. But no, I'm not a pirate either. I've lived on base basically my entire life." She peers at Mal and Soren curiously. "So what do you guys do in the med bay, huh?"
As Edith speaks, Soren's comm link goes off. It is a private message from the leader of the pirates, Keslin. When you get a chance, could you please stop by the war room?
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Startled by the comm link, Soren nearly spilled his coffee in a rush to silence its sharp buzzing. <Huh. Wonder what Keslin wants. Well, better make this short.>
"We fix the sick and the broken, if we're the only hands left available for the job. I'm really more a field medic than anything else, so it's nice to have real facilities to work with, instead of being limited to whatever supplies we can carry on us... but I'm hardly a neurosurgeon. Hate to cut this short, but we're wanted elsewhere. Nice meeting you, Edith, was it? See you around, hopefully not in med bay."
Mal gave Illim a curt nod and strode quickly out of the cafeteria, sipping coffee to keep it from overflowing as he walked.
He arrived a bit later minutes later at the war room, knocking lightly on the sidewall to announce his presence. "You asked for us. What's happening?"
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Rythil raises his eyebrows and chuckles a little. He'd noted this "Dom" in the hallways before, but hadn't gotten to talk to him. He knew the man was somehow involved with Niko and Gene. All things considered, he'd heard much more about Gene. He'd honestly wanted to talk to this Dominic and get to know him. It was eternally frustrating working with an individual who shared at least half of his own interests in a partner, but was also in a committed relationship. But if Dominic also shared half of those interests...maybe getting to know him would open up some possibilities...tho ugh that was quite unlikely. After all, Rythil feels alienated from his own species by his intellect, from the humans by his species, and from nearly the entire base by his sexuality. He feels like a living, walking paradox...an outcast social butterfly. Oh, there might be some Yeerks controlling hosts that would be interested in some sort of dalliance, but Rythil refuses to take advantage of another Hork-Bajir's (by-comparison) childlike intelligence. Although lately he's really been tempted to push his own rules. Firin didn't understand that certain activities could only do so much when performed alone. But then, he wouldn't.
"Maybe I will talk to him, though the humans outnumber the Hork-Bajir here by rather a large margin. It would probably be better to worry more about human morale...though I wouldn't mind eating something with a bit of flavor." He grimaces on purpose this time as he takes another bite. He can sense the human girl's unease at being in a social situation, though the only reason he knows the unease originates with the girl instead of the controller is because Esreth had told him so. "Meeting nutritional needs can go only so far." He smirks a bit as he takes another bite of the bark, and even though his features are Hork-Bajir, his unusual intelligence gives them a strangely human cast.
"Firin harbors delusions of developing some sort of matter conversion technology..."
<<They're not delusions...>>
<<Then build a prototype...>>
<<......>>
"...you know...pick up a handful of dirt and turn it into a piece of sap-soaked Skkyrgo bark. Or a heap of meat or something in the case of humans. Of course, he doesn't even have an idea of how to test his hypotheses...so...y eah." Rythil chuckles again, taking another bite out of his bland bark.
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Edith watches Soren and Mal leave, looking a little disappointed. "He's not very talkative, is he?" she asks Illim.
Esreth raises her eyebrows in interest. "Matter conversion?" she asks, glancing at Niko. "Is that even theoretically possible? I'll be the first to admit I'm not much of a physicist, but that seems like a bit of a stretch." She pauses to take a sip of lukewarm, recycled water. "I'd love to hear your ideas on it, though. I'll try to keep up." She winks. "And, you know, I am on the Council. If it's something that's worth pursuing, I could always bring it up at our next meeting.
Keslin opens the door to the war room and gives Soren and Mal a small smile. "Come on in," he says, his voice betraying the faintest hints of a Canadian accent. He beckons for Mal to enter the meeting room. There is a long, surprisingly ordinary table situated in the center of the space, with a wide assortment of different chairs surrounding it. A few holoscreens cast greenish light over the room, which is otherwise empty.
Closing the door behind them, Keslin makes his way to the table, taking a seat for himself in one of the oversized office chairs. He gestures for Mal to take his choice of seats.
"I want to start by telling you how much of an honor it has been having you with us again," Keslin says quietly, his host's freckled expression serious. "Once you were separated from us, our standard of living went down quite significantly. We were lucky we found Reven before we all died of minor cuts and bruises." He huffs a short laugh.
-
Mal pulled out one of the conference chairs and took a seat, sipping his coffee again before setting it on the broad table.
What do you think?
<I think we're being buttered up, but I don't know how he's planning to cook us, just yet.>
So... not good?
<Maybe.>
"I'm glad to be back and working again; when we got separated from the group for so long, we began to get really worried about everybody."
...Worried? We were a little too busy trying not to die with that phenomenal maniac, to worry.
<What? No rule against buttering up the other guy. And Jo's not so bad, Hags; take it easy.>
Pleeeease do not call me that.
<Okay. Fine. De-ruffle those feathers, and let's find out what Keslin actually wants.>
Mal leaned forward on his elbows on the table. "Good to see you, and good to be seen, but I can't help wondering what you need, that I can do for you." He gave a gentle wry smile, the same one he tended to give soldiers whose wounds were fatal but who didn't know it yet, and who insisted on asking.
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Keslin's smile becomes a little strained, and he looks down at the table briefly. "We were worried about you as well. Both of you. I would be lying if I did not say we had feared the worst," he says, quietly diplomatic.
<<If by "worst" you mean sucked into a black hole, captured for interrogation by the Empire, starving to death, running into-->>
<<Enough, Chris,>> Keslin says, cutting the human off and focusing his attention outward again. "Mal, Soren, I have...an opportunity for you. A project that I believe your particular research may benefit from. I trust Soren is still more than happy to investigate the various biological systems of non-human species?"
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Rythil nods to Niko before looking over at Esreth again. "In a purely theoretical realm, it should be possible. If we could parse and control individual subatomic particles and force them to bond again in a specific way. But the manner of being able to predict and control all of those particles...it doesn't exist. It would take super-computers to be able to correctly monitor and control such an action."
<<But it is possible. It's not just food, Rythil. We could create any type of resource we might need...metals, minerals...anything . No need for mining or searching...we could simply create what we needed to create.>>
<<Perhaps it's possible...but it's not feasible. Not yet anyway.>>
<<That's why I should be thinking about it!>>
<<Then think about it...>>
"And it would likely take a lot of time and energy. Controlling raw sub-atomic particles would take a lot of energy. Of course, if we could harness the energy released from breaking the bonds of the original matter...but that in and of itself produces problems. There are too many variables...I'm sure Firin will be obsessed with it for a while though. I admit, if he manages an epiphany, it would be remarkable. But it's all supposition and theory thus far." Rythil chuckles again to himself.
-
At the mention of alien biology, Soren perked up visibly. "I am still interested, yes. What's going on?"
<Man, you suck at playing it cool.>
Hush; this might be important.
<Oh, yes, now it's important. I'd roll our eyes if you weren't using them.>
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"Maybe not," Illim replies to Edith, "but I am. C'mon, you should come over here and meet Derrel. You know him?" He takes his tray towards his former host and sits down across from him. "How's it going? And Xevec?" His grin is broad.
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"I'm doing fine. The food is as good as always." Derrel said.
"By that he means it's better than the stuff he dug out of trash cans back on Earth." Xevec said, smirking.
"I've been occupying my time in the kitchen, and helping Xevec get used to the different way things are run around here. He's making steady progress in learning about equality. We're still getting the cold shoulder from Steven. He believes Xevec came here just because he didn't want to die, instead joining because he agreed with the rebel's views."
"I can't say it's entirely untrue, but I am trying to change." Xevec said. "I've been sharing my information on explosives, and I hope that will help the cause. I know it's not exactly a peaceful expertise, but it is useful. I notice you're buddies with Terenia. How did that happen? She's not an easy woman to get close to."
-
Edith follows Illim, coffee held in both hands, warming her hands. When they reach Derrel she watches, her wide brown eyes intent on him. She tilts her head a little as the human and Yeerk switch control with considerable ease, covering a range of topics in just a few seconds.
"Illim," she says, giggling a little. "I think you found someone who talks more than I do."
Keslin takes a deep breath, letting it out in a slow, long exhale.
<<Come on, man, you can't procrastinate forever,>> Chris urges.
<<I can't help thinking this is not the right thing to do,>> he murmurs quietly.
<<If it helps you not become a maniac?>> Chris asks. <<It's the right thing. What's the worst that can happen, eh?>>
Keslin chooses not to entertain that possibility, instead putting a serious expression on his face. "Soren, I do not know how much you have heard of the events that unfolded here before you returned to us. One of the...rather unortunate situations we were forced to deal with was the...the execution of Terliss."
His blue eyes watch Soren curiously. All of the pirates had known Terliss, their cold, reserved turelek, housed in the head of Aya, a particularly brilliant young woman. "I want to make sure that you are able to distinguish the rumors of what happened from the actuality. And then I will need your help."
<<Good so far,>> Chris says encouragingly.
"Right, so...as you probably are well aware, Terliss was not exactly the friendliest member of our little brigade. He kept to himself, he did what I told him to, and he kept Aya in relative isolation. I helped to encourage this, because I did not want Terliss associating with the rest of you. Terliss never wanted to be a rebel. He never wanted to be loyal to us. I...he was useful, and I needed him so that we could make positive strides against the Empire." He bites his lip. "I am sure that you are well aware of the addictive qualities that a certain breakfast cereal has on us Yeerks?"
-
"Back in the Empire, I was quite popular. Center of attention. Everyone loved me. At least, I thought everyone loved me. Unfortunately some people I knew were willing to sell me out if it meant not being decapitated by Visser Three." Xevec said to Edith. Now here I am, trying out a new lifestyle, and triple checking the lock on my door before going to sleep."
-
Soren stared blankly for a moment.
What has oatmeal to do with-
<Son of a ****!>
Mal's eyes narrowed, but he kept his voice level. "What is going on involving oatmeal, what does it have to do with Terliss, and why do you need us to help resolve it?"
-
Edith raises her eyebrows. "This isn't exactly something you 'try out', you know," she says, setting her mug down on the table and helping herself to a chair. "You're kind of stuck here. We don't just let people change their minds and wander off."
Keslin swallows back his emotion, keeping his voice steady. "When I first found Terliss, I realized I could use him, but I needed to convince him to be loyal to us. I...I tethered him to us, so to speak, by forcing an oatmeal addiction upon him. As long as he did as I asked, I would supply him with enough of the drug to avoid withdrawal. I was always careful not to give him too much. I did not want him going completely mad, or becoming permanently attached to Aya. But I--"
He cuts off, gritting his teeth.
<<Come on, you've gotten this far,>> Chris says.
<<I am so incredibly tired of admitting my failings as a leader to my own people,>> Keslin responds, weary and embarrassed.
<<Let me, then,>> Chris responds. Keslin flushes a little, not particularly fond of the idea that he is incapable of finishing the conversation himself, but then he sighs and nods, his shoulders slumping.
<<Okay,>> he whispers, sliding out of control.
Chris blinks up at Soren, his eyes regaining focus. "Hey, it's Chris," he says quietly, flexing his fingers a few times. The trembling they display when Keslin is in control has vanished. "Listen, Kes...he did what he thought was best for us. To keep us alive and to make progress against the Empire. He knew the oatmeal would work because...because Keslin's been addicted to the stuff for a long, long time." His lips lift in a small, sad smile. "We need your help to understand how...how the oatmeal biologically impacts the Yeerks who are addicted. We know it fundamentally changes them somehow, but we don't know how. And if we don't figure that out, we can't figure out if there is any way to reverse it."
-
"I know. I was told by the guy I escaped with that if I made the decision, I was very likely to not be able to go back on it. I was still in a fragile emotional state, and I know you people don't really owe me anything. I hope you don't think I'm a bad person for buying into the Empire's views. Steven hates me, but even he would tell you I didn't go out of my way to torment him."
"I'll do my best to pay you people back for the favor you've done me. Even if I've developed post traumatic trust issues."
-
Mal blanched, and his hand shook as he reached for his coffee, taking a slow drink.
Oh no.
<That son of a ****. This is so wrong on so many levels. To do that to somebody else in his charge?! And then to ask us to help?! How dare he->
Cool it. Let me take over.
Soren set down the coffee mug and looked up to give Chris eye contact. "Soren speaking. As no doubt you can guess, Maliss is not... pleased... at this information. Once he calms down, he will be willing to work on your problem. In the mean time, I can already tell you that we are going to need blood and tissue samples from both affected and unaffected Yeerks and their hosts, and we will need samples of the oatmeal. Once we can identify which alkaloids are activating which types of neurotransmitters, we can look into synthesizing a compound to inhibit that transmission."
Mal took over again. "Keslin, we'll help you, but don't think for one second that I condone any part of what you did. Is there anything else you forgot to mention, or are we done here?"
Soren popped back in. "When we are done here, let me know when you can stop over at the lab for blood and tissue sampling."
-
Chris laughs shakily. "Kes knows it was was wrong, man," he says. "Terliss was a turelek, though. If we didn't think of a way to control him, he would have had to be eliminated. Which, yeah, happened eventually, but we got seven or eight years of service out of him. But...he did need to be killed in the end. Which is the last thing I need to tell you about."
He hesitates, waiting for Keslin to jump in, but the Yeerk seems to have lost interest in speaking. Sighing, he charges ahead.
"When Terliss arrived here on Reven's base, he committed several acts that were considered over the line. The trial records are public, you're free to look at them, but suffice it to say that he was the cause of a good deal of pain. As a result of the trial, he was sentenced to death. His execution...somethi ng went wrong, and as far as we can tell, it has something to do with the oatmeal."
He allows this to sink in for a moment, dropping his eyes to the table. "Two of the scientists here, a woman named Melissa and a Yeerk named Illim, were developing some sort of biochemical weapon. We decided to test the weapon on those slated for execution. There was an Imperial hostage and...and Terliss." He laughs bleakly. "I'm no scientist, man, I don't know the particulars, but basically the stuff was a gas, and it was supposed to, like...trigger the enzyme or whatever that made Yeerks decompose quickly when they die. It's a way to free involuntary hosts without causing them permanent damage. It's also...well, really scary as **** to think about, but we figured we could at least test it out. It worked on the Imperial, perfectly. But Terliss...it...he died, but he didn't disintegrate. Not fully. Bits of him were, like..." He winces. "They sort of melted into Melissa's brain. Farrah, our neurologist, has been trying to help her, but she's not the same, and we're pretty sure it has something to do with the gas interacting with the oatmeal."
He falls silent. <<God, we sound like awful people,>> he whispers.
<<We're just trying to win,>> Keslin responds quietly. Wincing inwardly, he steps back into control, licking his lips and looking down at his trembling hands. "I don't expect your approval, Maliss. Or Soren's. What we did to Terliss was wrong. I didn't want to kill him, so instead I used him. Poor Aya...having to suffer with that secret all those years, having to live with him in her head...it was not my strongest moment. But I am trying to set things right. The weapons project Melissa and Illim were working on has been disbanded. It's too dangerous, and too many innocent lives could be impacted. I--Soren, Tess is pregnant." He flushes a little at this admission. "I can't bring human children into this world while I'm suffering with this addiction. Beyond that...if you can help me, maybe you can help Melissa too. It all comes back to this dapsen oatmeal. No one understands it."
-
Mal stared down at his coffee, still white as a sheet, and now nauseated. The coffee curdled in his stomach, and it made a queasy noise.
"This is vile, Keslin. We'll help you, and hopefully we'll be able to help Melissa, but right now I can't even look you in the eye. I know what you do is for the sake of the rebellion, but it's beyond the pale. I guess that's why you don't put me behind a gun, huh?"
-
Keslin nods, looking away. "I'm not asking for you to forgive me," he says quietly. "I don't think I can forgive myself. But...everyone else here knows, you have a right to know as well. And...I promise you, Maliss, I would never compromise you or Soren just for the sake of our mission. I would never use you."
He swallows, pulling out his computer cube and bringing up a holoscreen. "I'm sending Melissa's information to your comm link, including where her quarters are located. You may want to check in with Farrah or Illim regarding her. I don't know much about her present situation. She is one of Reven's, so he is being briefed on the situation rather than me." Sighing, he swipes away the screen. "I can stop by the med bay later this afternoon so that you can collect the samples." His lips twitch up into a sad smile. "Regardless of what you think of me, this research is important."
-
"Don't kid yourself. All we do around here is get used; it's our job. We'll do the work. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be in my lab." Mal stood up and retrieved his coffee, heading for the door. His comm link gave a faint whirring noise to indicate the updated information.
Are we going to postpone the work for Jo?
<No. We'll do alternating hours for each project. This is important, but we can't backlog her situation. Addiction is survivable, but her condition isn't.>
-
Illim raises an eyebrow and takes a bite. "Well I know I wouldn't wanna leave again, myself. I'm happily settled in, thanks." He leans back a little, grinning. "As for Terenia? I dunno, we just get along. She puts up with my jokes."
-
"That's cool. I'm glad she has someone besides her hubby to hang out with. Derrel is a bit of an isolationist too, for different reasons, and I guess I'm turning into one. Though I really don't know what to do with myself when it's just me and Derrel. Hopefully they'll let me take a trip back to Earth soon enough, so I can get some good food. I miss chicken and potatoes from home."
<I'm not an isolationist. I have Illim and Derrel. Plus Dom and Aya are nice to everyone, and I've hung out with them sometimes.>
<That's barely enough. Not even enough to fill a top ten list on a phone.>
-
Niko slurps up soggy cabbage, eyes tracking between Rythil and Terenia as they discuss the mechanics of transmuting soil into bark.
"From the sound of it," he says finally, swallowing a gulp of water, "the Engineering department is going to lose its best mechanic and theorist to Medieval alchemy." He grins at his Hork-Bajir Controller compatriot. "It's good to see you outside of the dungeons, you two."
He glances at Terenia and Esreth. "You wanna take his place in mechanics, if he ends up trying to grow cabbage and trees for the rest of eternity?"
-
James was having one of those moods. The kind where all he wanted to do was sit in a corner of the cafeteria, stare into his cabbage, and maybe growl at anyone who tried to speak to him. Or he would if Priton didn't have some sort of addiction to being reasonably polite. What James really wanted to do was get up, move around, and just not deal with anyone or anything for awhile. Except Priton, he supposed, as long as the Yeerk didn't talk or at least didn't comment on James' grumbling thoughts. And as long as he stopped forcing black, burning bile down their throat like he was trying desperately to poison them.
<Coffee won't actually kill you.>
James' only response was a grunting sound.
Priton, for his part, didn't care one way or the other about anything at the moment except getting some sort of sustenance while simultaneously trying not to pick a fight with his cranky host. He wouldn't have really minded giving into their body's restlessness, but someone had to be the responsible one.
-
Rythil glances over at Niko, chuckling, but the chuckle cuts off abruptly as Firin jumps into control. Rythil's expression flattens out before arching an eyebrow at his fellow theorist.
<<I really really wish you wouldn't do that.>>
<<...>>
"Surely you see that my theory has merit. We merely need to find a way to control the sub-atomic particles...it's all there, I merely need to...well...find a way to control sub-atomic particles on an individual and basic level..." Firin falls silent as he lets Rythil assume control again.
Rythil's face regains some emotive animation. He can feel that Niko's comments were meant in mirth, not criticism...but, of course, Firin would only see word-meaning and logic.
"Being down there for the overhaul reminds me of when I broke my back working on those damn cabbages...the ceiling down there isn't high enough. And, by the way, our adjustments worked perfectly, thank you very much." He smirks good-naturedly. "The efficiency of water-usage has been increased by ten percent." He shares his glance between Esreth and Niko as he speaks. "That means more water for everything else, and less demand on those finicky filtration systems, which...need to be cleaned out again. I assume Juliette will be handling it since we actually have to climb into the cisterns to clean them" He tears a chunk of bark off into his mouth and realizes with surprise that it's already his second piece. He doesn't remember finishing the first. "Besides which, I don't like to climb without being able to use my blades."
"But there's no way I'm spending any more time with those damn cabbages than is absolutely necessary, so there won't be a position opening." He bites off another piece of bark, managing to forget how terribly bland it is. "Can't get rid of us that easy, hun." He grins at Niko, showing his mirth at the good-natured jab and chuckles a bit.
-
Esreth rolls her eyes at Niko. "Sorry, but if you put me in engineering I'd probably blow the place up." She smirks at Firin and Rythil. The cabbage isn't that bad," she says. "I mean, don't get me wrong, Terenia despises it. But Caroline's down there, and she's nice enough. And I don't mind getting a little dirty."
<<It's not the dirt I mind,>> Terenia sniffs, <<It's the fact that every time I'm on harvesting duty I wake up with the worst backache of my life.>>
<<Perhaps you should do it more often, then?>> Esreth teases. <<Let your body get used to the idea.>>
<<Thanks, but I think I'd actually rather work for Myitt.>>
Keslin watches Mar and Soren leave, then sinks back into his chair with a heavy sigh.
<<He didn't disown you as his leader,>> Chris says, trying to be reassuring.
<<No,>> Keslin responds. <<But I am growing weary of disappointing my people, whether they abandon me for it or not.>> He looks down at his trembling hands and swallows, clenching them into a brief fist. <<And I am growing especially weary of this addiction. My focus...it is not what it once was.>>
<<Hey, you'll get through it, man,>> Chris murmurs. <<Mal and Soren are brilliant. Between them and Farrah? They'll figure out something.>>
<<I hope so,>> Keslin responds. He takes out his comm link and sends a brief message to Farrah, explaining that he has told Soren and Mal about the situation and they will be on hand if she needs them. Then he pockets his link and pulls out his computer cube, settling in for a long night of work.
"All the Yeerks here bought into the Empire's views at one point or another," Edith points out, sipping her coffee and making a face. "Ugh. Ew, how can Myitt stand this stuff?" she asks, looking at Illim and scrunching up her nose. She sets the mug down and pushes it away a little before addressing Xevec again. "The point is that you're here now, not with the Empire, right? As long as you're not going to backstab us or betray us, that's what matters."
-
"You wouldn't blow anything up," Niko tells Esreth dismissively, waving a hand. "That only happens once every couple of years or so, and only when incompetent people show up and start hitting the wrong buttons."
He digs back into his cabbage, flushing a little at the thought of the whole Illim fiasco. Even thinking about Illim in general made his heartbeat skyrocket with dread, even after all that time had passed. His right hand flexes and unflexes on his lap. It would never fully heal, not after what Myitt had done to his fingers.
"So," he says, a little loudly, clearing his throat. He forces a smile. "I'm stuck with you two. That's fine, you can keep the water running around here, I like having potable water to drink. Just don't remind me it's the same stuff that's in the toilet facilities and the showers and god knows what else." Niko rolls his eyes, taking a sip of water to accentuate the point. "And hey, Rythil, you sound like you've been picking up on English colloquialisms." He eyes Esreth and Terenia, jabbing his fork at them a little. "Is that your fault, or someone else's? I hardly talk to this overgrown lizard." He grins at Rythil to show he's joking, then peers back at Esreth, suspiciously. "Don't tell me he's been hanging out with Ticak."
-
"I know first hand how much it hurts to be betrayed, and I'm certainly not planning on turning against anyone here. I know I've been acting paranoid, but i hope it doesn't make me look suspicious."
"I've never been a fan of coffee. I'd rather drink and energy drink or something."
-
"I spent a lot of time with humans on Earth...I thought about being officially voluntary after Firin and I got to know each other, but he pointed out that there weren't any voluntary Hork-Bajir, and I'd only draw attention to myself...but I got some of the involuntary humans to talk to me. Of course I pretended to be of...average...Hork-Bajir intelligence, but you'd be surprised at how much can be accomplished even with that limited form of communication. Mostly, I listened. Not all of them wasted their energy on rage."
He takes another bite out of his bark, the second piece almost completely gone now. "And I've talked to a few people here, though most avoid me. The humans, for the most part, aren't comfortable with talking to a Hork-Bajir. The other Hork-Bajir can barely carry on a conversation with me. And most people are confused by and averse to my sexuality. I try to be social...but I have a lot of things working against me...it's a little disheartening."
Rythil drops his eyes to his nearly-empty plate, doing what he can to avoid showing his hopelessness, but with limited success. He forces himself to look up and smile after he manages to master his emotions. "But at least I'm not in the Empire anymore, right?" He forces a chuckle at the statement.
-
Niko's dark eyebrows raise in surprise. "I guess the human-to-Hork-Bajir ratio is kind of skewed, isn't it," he says quietly, sitting back from his empty plate. He smirks. "Though I think even most humans could do with a bit more social interaction around here. God, the place is like a funeral, sometimes." Now his eyebrows furrow in dismay. "Yarin says that's...yeah, probably a poor choice of words." He shakes his head and idly swirls the water around in the dented tin mug. "How about we throw a party? An honest to god party." His eyes light up as he looks between Terenia and Rythil, conspiratorially. "With a cake."
-
Derrel suddenly perked up. "Someone just mentioned the word cake."
<Seriously? All the noise in this room, and you zone in on the word cake? Your obsession with food is amusing. Cake isn't even good for you, though. You need nutrition.>
<I'm eating cabbage, aren't I? Sugar is good in small amounts. Cake would be good.>
"Do we have the stuff to make a cake or two around here?" Derrel asked.
-
Illim blinks at Derrel's abrupt change in the conversation, and he groans a little. "Nothing like going from coffee to cake with miss-mile-a minute over here already," he gives Edith a teasing wink. "And sorry to disappoint, but it's doubtful. You know how hard it would be to transport milk and eggs here without them spoiling?"
-
"What can I say? I love food. The Sharing almost got me because they had a free buffet. Then I was abducted by aliens." He said with a small laugh. "What would you like to talk about, Illim?"
-
"A...party? How? Is that even possible? Would it ever be approved? I suppose it would be nice to unwind in a more social situation...of course...well I'd still be the crossbred 'elephant/dark-horse' in the room..." Rythil looks dejected for a second again, but recovers quickly. "I guess it would be nice anyway."
"And the skewed ratio doesn't bother me. There aren't many Hork-Bajir here...honestly that makes sense. But...well...my intelligence makes it awkward for me to interact with them as well. The chance that there would be another Seer here is blatantly astronomical. I'd be surprised if there are more than three or four, other than myself, currently alive in the entire Universe." He shakes his head and glances over at the Hork-Bajir table where a few of the controllers are socializing via their hosts. He gestures at one of the males. "Take Naka for instance...he's an attractive male. See how his head blades curve back gracefully, but have an angular strength? His neck is strong, his shoulders well-formed. He looks as though he just anchored after a day of working hard, gliding through the trees. He's a...stimulating...s pecimen of Hork-Bajir. But were I to talk to him without his Yeerk...it would be as if I were talking to a very young human...barely able to form words and sentences, with little grasp of certain concepts or meanings." He pauses, choosing his words carefully before continuing. Talking about his...appetites...o ften made humans uncomfortable. "Were I to pursue any...physical...re lations with Naka, even if he possessed a basic understanding of what we were doing, and was happy to take part, I would feel guilty about it...as if I were taking advantage of him with my intelligence. I mean, would he really understand the meaning behind what we'd done? The short and simple answer is no."
Rythil sighs. "It happened once...Naka and I helped each other out while Firin and Naril were feeding. It was...enjoyable...f or the both of us, and not a foreign concept. Adolescent males and females on the Homeworl, I'm told, would often do things with their friends just as a form of play, with no added context. And that's what it was to Naka...we were making each other feel good. But I want emotion...feeling. Some Hork-Bajir develop a sort of rudimentary experience of emotion, but nothing so strong and detailed as the emotions that humans can feel. And I want to be able to carry on a cogent conversation with a significant other. Talk about what we do all day and stuff." Rythil shakes his head. "Wishful thinking, eh?"
Rythil shrugs before smiling again. "But a party would probably be nice, if you think it can be pulled off."
-
Mal walked back toward the lab, his coffee starting to get cold, but the sick feeling in his gut still fresh and sharp. He walked in and closed the door behind him, pulling out a box of old specimen slides from a nearby shelf. He rifled through the box and the notes attached to it until he found what he was looking for- the complete list of cross-species antibodies shared between a Yeerk and a human host.
<We're going to need fresh non-addicted tissue samples, since we used up the last set for Jo's business; let's get this over with. Lancets are in the third drawer over.>
Okay. Which side this time?
<Left dorsal, please. Not too close to my palps. Leave me in the bath for a little while when you're done.> Mal slowly worked his way out of Soren's head, and Soren reached up a hand to receive him. He grabbed a small sterile tissue lancet from the drawer, swabbed Maliss' back with a non-toxic sterile solution, and cut a tiny piece of greyish-green tissue quickly and carefully from the Yeerk's left upper flank. He placed Mal into a nearby tub of warm nutrient-water, checked that the interface screen was turned on, and set to work on the tissue sample. He carved a paper-thin sliver and spread it onto a prepared slide, then put the rest into a test tube with a preparatory solution, setting it into a small centrifuge against the wall. He took out another lancet and drew blood from his palm, giving it a similar treatment. He spent the next hour studying the two new slides and comparing them to samples he'd taken from Joanne and Keshin, making notes on paper and typing comments into the interface with Mal.
Soren stood up and stretched, picking up Mal and helping him re-infest.
<Are you sure you managed to isolate all the typical antibodies?>
Yes. Now we just need to get samples from Farrah, Keslin, and Chris, to identify atypical antibodies or hormones following oatmeal exposure.
<Good. I'll let them know.>
Mal sent out a message to Farrah and Chris- 'At your convenience, please come to lab for tissue samples.'
<I figure if we say 'at your convenience,' it will buy us some more time to work on Jo's problem.>
Right. Now where did I set that tablet-
-
Illim shrugs. "I dunno." Then he bursts into sudden laughter. "How about the weather?" He elbows Edith with a wink. "Yeah? Like that? I'm a funny guy."
-
"There have been civil wars over control of the coveted thermostats in this complex. Great battles of will and nonlethal weaponry. Subterfuge and mystery abound about secret mafia groups, and lines drawn between the cold and warm natured alike. Bribery, intimidation, corruption, and more over mere degrees of temperature change." Xevec said.He took another look towards the door, out of habit.
-
Edith snorts and rolls her eyes, clearly not amused. "You know what I'd like to see?" she says suddenly. "A real thunderstorm. I kind of remember them from when I was a kid, but not very well. I just remember being scared and hiding under the covers. But I bet they're loads of fun."
It is some time before there is a knock on the door that leads to Mal's lab, accompanied by a call of greeting. "Mal, Soren? It's Farrah and Isren."
<<I don't know what they keep themselves locked up over in there,>> Farrah murmurs to herself, watching the door expectantly. With one hand she idly plays with her long, dark braid.
<<Research of some sort or another,>> Isren responds blandly.
<<Well, obviously. I meant of what sort. I don't know of any projects Sam has going on beyond Patrick and Melissa's, and I'm in charge of those.>>
<<Perhaps you should ask him.>>
<<Maybe I will.>>
-
"Tough crowd. Maybe Terenia would like my jokes. She seems to have a sense of humor. Thunderstorms can be fun to watch. Flashes of lightning all across the sky, like a light show. It gets pretty scary when it's close enough to rattle your windows, though."
-
Soren opened the lab door and stood away from it, gesturing to a chair nearby. "Farrah and Isren. Thanks for coming."
Mal took over. "If you'll have a seat there, we'll take some blood samples, ask a few questions, and send you on your way. I appreciate your promptness and cooperation."
-
"Windows," Edith says emphatically. "That's another thing I'd like to have. There's no point in them underground here, but it'd be so nice to look out and see things. Green things." She sighs a little wistfully.
Farrah's dark eyebrows raise a little. "You'll have to forgive me, Maliss," she says as she steps into the lab. "But what, exactly, do you need my blood for?" Her smile is a little thin, her eyes sharp and intelligent. "I don't quite recall missing any of my own check-ups, and typically I leave that to Issid."
-
"Working on a counter-agent for prolonged exposure to the neuro-active molecules found in oatmeal. You're one of the only people on board who's been exposed to it, so your cells might have the clues we need to reverse the stuff. In the long term, we might even be able to develop a preventative inoculating agent. Take it up with Keslin and Chris, if you have a problem with it; we're just doing our job, Farrah."
Mal brought out a phlebotomist's syringe and a sterilizing swab, waiting for Farrah to take a seat.
-
Farrah's eyebrows shoot even higher and she leans back against the doorframe, folding her arms across her chest. "Keslin and Chris?" she echoes blankly. Then she shakes her head. "Maliss, Soren. I think you've been thinking more than you've been listening again. Isren has certainly never been exposed to oatmeal. He despises the stuff, as any Yeerk rightly should, and he wasn't here during the famine." Her dark eyes narrow slightly. "One of my patients has been the victim of oatmeal exposure, in a roundabout sort of way. Perhaps that is what you are referring to? And if so, I am going to have to caution you against approaching her regarding any samples."
-
Mal shook his head and leaned back against the counter top. "You've not been directly exposed to the oatmeal itself, no, but you've worked extensively with somebody who has. One of the compounds that I've correlated with addiction in Yeerks is able to be both absorbed by human skin and lungs and excreted in human sweat and exhalations; depending on how much contact you've had with Melissa, you could very well have developed the beginnings of tolerance. Your blood will either contain or lack the contact-absorbed compound, and if it lacks it, then we get to try to track down Melissa for samples instead. Of the two of you, I figured you'd be more cooperative, and we can arguably get better information this way, anyway: if you have traces of the compound, then it means Melissa will definitely be producing it on her breath or skin, and there will be enough evidence to imply causation, and not merely correlation."
Mal sighed and looked down at his hands. "I also want to know to what extent you and the other medical staff have been aware of the oatmeal experimentation Chris and Keslin were performing. Before today, I had no reason to question the ethics of any of my colleagues here, but this situation has cast many things into doubt for us, and we need to know where we stand."
He looked up and made solid eye contact with Farrah. "I need to know I'm not the only person here whose first concern is healing, and giving these people what they need, and not this damned war. I do want a blood sample, if you'll volunteer it, but I need the information more. I also need any information you can share about Melissa's condition and what early symptoms she showed when the necrotic gas interacted with the oatmeal."
-
Farrah watches Mal for a long moment. "May I sit?" she asks, taking the chair before he has a chance to respond.
Again, she is silent before speaking. "The oatmeal interferes with Yeerk biology, and its effects are felt most strongly through host consumption. Isren has not heard of any indication of inhalation or external contact interfering with tolerance. Then again, extended oatmeal-use is not a highly researched area." She frowns a little, listening to some internal commentary before continuing. "Let me make a distinction first. Melissa was never exposed to oatmeal in any way prior to being infested by Terliss. Terliss was the addict, and Terliss had been exposed to varying amounts of the stuff through a combination of consumption through his prior host, Aya, and through direct contact via a personal Yeerk pool. The only interaction Melissa has had with oatmeal was through what had already altered Terliss' biology. I can send you her scans if you'd like, but I assure you I have gone over them thoroughly."
There is a slight challenge to her tone as she watches him, daring him to accuse her of missing something in her own analysis of Melissa's bioscans.
"As far as my purpose here," Farrah continues, her tone becoming more brisk. "I arrived here after Melissa was exposed to the gas. I presume you know the way most people find their way here, through their Yeerks. That was not the case with me. I did not know what a Yeerk was until I arrived here. Melissa's partner and Sam came to Earth and recruited me specifically to help Melissa following the accident. They needed a neuro-specialist, and the fact that I was ignorant of the Empire and the rebellion did not matter much to them." Her smile thins a little. "I didn't find out that I was being recruited to an alien organization halfway across the galaxy until it was a bit too late. But my purpose here has always been healing."
-
Mal nodded, and some of the hardness went out of his eyes. "I'm glad to hear it. As for the scans, if you could send them, I would appreciate it. I don't believe you missed anything, but I do believe we may look for different things than you would look for. Since you're here and have answered our questions, if there's anything I can do for you while you're here, let me know."
-
"Yeah, living under ground isn't exactly an ideal life for us. Maybe we should look into finding a world where the war isn't happening, and wait it out there. There had got to be some other solar system out there with a kandrona sun where we could start over. Though I guess that would mean abandoning the cause of trying to help Yeerks like us who don't agree with the Empire, and the slaves they look down on."
-
"This is the ideal place," Illim shakes his head. "It's safe and remote, and no one knows we're here. Sorry there aren't windows, but at least there's a reasonably decent surface this time." He seems to be a little irritated with the turn in conversation. "And there's always holographs. Make yourself an Earth, if you want."
-
"Sorry. I don't mean to come off like I don't appreciate what we have. It could certainly be worse. My new boss isn't a raving lunatic, for one thing." Xevec said. "I've been wonderign if anyone would like me to help them rig some traps around here in case anyone finds us and tries to infiltrate. I'm just not sure if they'll let the new guy help with new security measures. Are there other explosives experts on this base?"
-
Terenia's eyebrows raise. "That seems a little arrogant, don't you thnk?" Esreth asks, watching Rythil. "I mean, you make it sound like you're a completely different species from him--" she jerks her thumb at the male Hork-Bajir he had been referring to. "If you and he can enjoy things on a consensual, physical level, and you and his Yeerk can enjoy things on an intellectual level, I don't see what the problem is. Except maybe elitism on your part." She shrugs a little.
"I've had a Hork-Bajir host before," she continues. "Albeit briefly. He was every bit as 'simple' as any other Hork-Bajir not endowed with the gift of being a seer. That did not make him any less my friend, or any less enjoyable to spend time with."
"I know that," Edith says, rolling her eyes. "I just...hey, I can wish, can't I? I grew up on this stupid base. Sometimes it'd be nice to see something different. As for traps...I don't know what you mean, Xevec, but you can certainly ask Reven. I'm sure something like that would have to be approved by him."
Farrah nods ever so slightly. "I will send you the scans," she says, pushing herself to her feet. She pauses on her way out. "I must caution you, Maliss. If you decide to approach Melissa, do so under the guise of Soren. She does not trust Yeerks, and her injury has only magnified that mistrust into something fairly manic."
-
Maliss nodded. "Of course. Thank you again. Do you know where Melissa tends to spend her time these days?"
-
Rythil directs his gaze toward Esreth. "You don't understand. For nearly a whole month after we...helped...each other out, I felt guilty every day. I still feel a little guilty about it now. Yes, he consented and enjoyed himself...but...I feel like I'm taking advantage of him. I pushed things, and even though he ended up enjoying it, I could tell he was uncomfortable at first."
He shakes his head. "Humans feel guilt when they take advantage of children...I can't help but feel I'm doing something similar. Yes, he's of age, and yes, he could raise young given the proper mate. But I still feel as if I'm using my intelligence to manipulate him. It's me who has the problem, not him. He would probably engage in the activity with me again if I asked...but I feel as though he's just agreeing in order to make me happy, because it's what I want. That's not what I want...I want someone who is with me because it's what they want." He shakes his head again. "Do you understand what I mean now?"
-
"Well, traps are always a good line of security against invading forces. Especially since we're trying to hide, so it's not like we can install big anti air guns outside the compound. I'll mention it to Reven, or perhaps write out something for someone Reven trusts to pitch it to him." He said, glancing at Illim.
-
"I'm all for strong defense," Illim shrugs. "Look, you draw up some specific plans and present them, and I'll see about getting them in front of Reven. Alright?" He smiles a little tightly and digs into his food again.
-
Niko has been listening, chewing carefully, perplexed.
"Wait," he says, swallowing and gesturing with his fork. "Who says you have a problem, Rythil?"
-
Rythil glances back at Niko, shaking his head. "I have several...I'm a Hork-Bajir, which is a minority on this base, I'm a seer, which is a minority in my race, and I'm a homosexual, which is, as far as I know, a minority amongst all binary races. I also seem to have a rather...active...l ibido. Sometimes I have trouble thinking. If it weren't for Fir, I wouldn't get any work done." Rythil chuckles to himself, but it's a little forced.
-
Niko shakes his head. "Well, with the exception of having trouble thinking straight, I hardly think any of those things are problems," he says quietly.
-
"Well thank you for your sentiment, Niko. You've been friendly to me since the start, and I appreciate it greatly." Rythil smiles warmly, patting Niko's hand before withdrawing both hands back to his plate. "I just want to be with someone. Like the way you are with Gene. You love and appreciate each other, and you want to be together. You can talk or hug or just feel close to each other." He sighs, trying to imagine what it must be like. "Sometimes I really wish I wasn't quite so intelligent. Life would be so much easier then."
<<We would still be in the Empire if you weren't intelligent.>>
<<You know what I mean.>>
"I guess I'm just too social for my own good." He smirks ruefully. "Too much wistful daydreaming."
-
Niko smiles and breathes a laugh, looking down at his half-full plate. "I think we all feel that way, sometimes, Rythil," he says, glancing up at the Hork-Bajir-Controller. "You're not alone, there. And yeah, like the human saying goes: Ignorance is bliss. Sometimes I really think that that's true."
He glances at Esreth and Terenia briefly, then looks back at Rythil. "Don't feel so hopeless, man." He grins. "If Dom can find someone, and he's the absolute epitome of 'too social' for his own good, then you can, too. I'm sure of it." He digs back into his food.
-
Rythil tries to put on a positive face for Niko. He'd been able to push past his initial attraction to the male human and counted him now as a close friend. Though he still senses a deep sort of sex appeal from the human, he understands completely that, for several reasons, he's not a prospect. Everyone kept referring to this Dominic, though the way Niko has mentioned him, it sounds as though he's already in a relationship as well.
The smile Rythil tries to put on is somewhat spoiled by the self-pity welling up inside him, taking a slightly sad twist. It was easy for someone who already had such a relationship to say that someone else would find the same happiness. They had that happiness already...of course they could put a positive spin on things. Rythil quickly crushes the monster of jealousy rearing its ugly head. Niko was a friend, he should be happy that his friend had such a relationship.
"Well, at least I'll always have a willing partner in myself." He chuckles, trying to show mirth. "Firin really couldn't care less."
<<That's not true...you become much more relaxed and bidable after some "alone-time." I merely wish that your mind would remain in that state for a bit longer than it does.>>
<<And you get nothing out of the endorphin bath that my brain releases.>>
<<I'll not dignify that statement with a response.>>
"Okay, well he says I work better for a while, but that's the extent of his interest in the matter." He grins and chuckles genuinely at that.
-
Niko laughs outright, leaning back and watching Rythil with an amused expression.
"I honest-to-god never thought I'd be having this sort of conversation with a Hork-Bajir," he says with a chuckle, shaking his head. "Guess there's gotta be a first time for everything, huh?"
He eyes Esreth and Terenia, smiling. "Please, don't shock me with anything else, right now, okay?" Dark eyes flit back to Rythil. "Any of you. I've had enough for one day." He takes a sip of water to try and quell the overabundance of giggles. "Ah...well, Rythil, tell me how you've been adjusting around here, other than your unavoidable libido conflicts? With the success in the cabbage drainage lines I think we could press Reven to let you work on hooking more quarters up with individual recycled water lines." He raises his eyebrows. "Who knows? Maybe someday we'll be able to move from the communal restrooms to something a little more private. With the current setup I can't help feeling like we live in a college dormitory, half the time. In other words, um...like a group of young, occasionally intellectual, hormonal humans who were just given a whole lot of independence."
<<And...an abundance of alcohol and marijuana?>> Yarin picks from Niko's mind, which makes Niko snort sudden laughter again, covering his mouth.
-
Rythil raises an eyebrow and uses a mock-serious tone. "But if we did away with the communal restrooms, I'd never get to see you naked again!" He holds the expression as long as he can manage before it cracks and he starts chuckling. "And don't tell me I can't look in those showers...I think the human saying is "looks are free..." or something like that." He smirks again, showing that he's joking...though he's really not joking that much. No need to bring that up and make things awkward again.
"In all seriousness though..." he glances over at Esreth and Terenia. "I apologize if the conversation makes anyone uncomfortable. Frankly, flirting is the only way I get to experience any kind of guilt-free sexual thrill." He glances at Niko again. "He knows me well enough that we can talk about stuff without things getting weird." He sticks his serpentine tongue out at Niko in imitation of the human gesture, meant to convey mirth and playfulness. "Some day I'll get you to tell me some juicy stories from Earth. For example, these dormitories you speak of...they sound interesting." He grins diabolically and chuckles.
"Some day in the lab, you'll have to elaborate." He smirks again. "But kidding aside...well, there's no helping what I am." He shrugs. "Back when I was somewhere that no-one knew I was intelligent, it was easier, though I can't say that I was any happier. Here...well, the Yeerk controllers help, but the other Hork-Bajir always seem to look to me in some way." Rythil shakes his head. "I don't think I'm really leader material, but back on our Homeworld, that was the way. The word 'Seer' was synonymous with 'Leader.' Sometimes I curse the Arn...usually for making the majority of us so unintelligent. But sometimes...a very few times, I've cursed them for not eliminating intelligence entirely." He pauses, bringing himself back to subject. "But even here, at this small base, with only a handful of Hork-Bajir...they see me as their leader. Not completely...they know that Reven leads the Yeerks and, by-proxy, them. But I can feel it...their Yeerks are friends, even good friends to them, but they see me as a leader no matter the rest." He shakes his head. "'You Seer...you chief. You know most...' No matter what I tell them, that's the response I get."
"It's frustrating...I enjoy intelligence, I like being able to think. But if I was just like them...sometimes I want that." He pauses for a moment before continuing. "Of course, most everyone's been very nice to me. And it's much nicer than the Empire. Freedom certainly sweetens the sap. And Firin finally gets to do what he wants."
<<That's a grossly egregious overstatement.>>
<<Oh come on, we'd still be shock-trooping if we were in the Empire...at least you get to work in a physics lab here.>>
<<Yes, and I dream all day of retooling irrigation systems.>>
Rythil pauses, his mouth nearly falling open...that had almost been a joke. Dry and sarcastic, said without inflection...but still...
<<You're hearing things.>> The Yeerk falls silent once again.
Rythil collects himself before catching his brain up on the conversation. He gestures with a clawed hand as he speaks aloud again. "Aside from the bevy of temptations just beyond reach, I must say the situation is quite nice. Of course I wouldn't mind a few more open spaces and some nice, tall trees to climb...and a little more greenery wouldn't hurt. The rock and metal is so...dead. But otherwise, I'm just grateful to be here instead of there." Rythil smiles, feeling a bit better. He always does after going through the positives of his situation. "Of course it would help if I didn't crave social interaction so much. And I mean that in a purely platonic way...just being around people...listening and talking. Sometimes I think it's the Ellimist's idea of a cruel joke...the ultimate outcast addicted to social activity." He shakes his head. "But I guess only the Ellimist knows, eh?"
-
Niko shakes his head, still smiling in amusement. "There's still so much I don't really know about you damn aliens, even after ten years living with the lot of you," he marvels. "Like, what the hell is this Ellimist thing you Hork-Bajir talk about all the time? Yarin seems to think of it, or them, as some kind of Andalite myth. Beyond that, we're pretty clueless."
<<Speak for yourself,>> Yarin mutters. <<I simply don't care to know the intricacies of superstitious Andalite mythos. It doesn't make me clueless.>>
<<Oh, quit being such an uptight baby, Yarin.>>
He shrugs, clearing his throat. "We are glad that you're both fitting in well enough, at any rate, in spite of the challenges." Niko grins. "Should we start saluting you every time you walk past, oh fearless leader? I don't know if I should share my college dorm stories with royalty." He snorts. "There are enough egos around here, so please don't start building one of your own, okay, man?" He sets the dented tin mug of water down, pushing away his plate, but making no move to stand.
-
Rythil frowns. "Don't you start with that. I don't want to be different in any other way...I'm different enough already." He shakes his head. "I don't want them to see me as a leader...it's just...ingrained." He shrugs, but smirks as he looks up from the table. "I promise I won't let it go to my head, as long as you promise to share some of those steamy tales when we're not swamped."
Rythil shrugs. "The Ellimist...I'm not so sure there isn't something to it. It's a sort of ascended being...an alien or species of incredible power. Perhaps it doesn't have the power to create life, but it certainly has the power to destroy it, if it exists. Firin and I have both thought about what we've heard and what we know from logical points of view, and honestly, a super-evolved alien doesn't seem that hard to swallow...and it would certainly have access to technology the likes of which would look like super powers and magic to us. I suppose the Andalites have added some mysticism and supernaturalism to the belief...but it's a point of contention. Andalites don't believe lightly, so I find it hard to believe that such a persistent myth amongst them truly is nothing but myth."
"And if you start saluting me, I'll demand that you walk around the lab naked every Friday." He grins, arching an eyebrow.
-
Niko coughs. "Oh, Christ," he laughs. "Fine, you drive a hard bargain, but no salutes." He smiles, blushing a little, but amused. "You're going to make me want to wear a towel even in the showers."
He shakes his head, mulling things over for a moment, pushing what little remains of his cabbage around his plate. "This Ellimist thing sounds a lot like the religions on Earth. Where's the evidence? Until they show up on our doorstep, offering to pull some metaphysical strings and end this war in our favor? I'm gonna just file it in with the bogeyman and the Loch Ness monster and other silly superstitions."
-
"Alright, that's settled then." Rythil grins. "Hey, I'm just messing with you." He smirks. "Besides, how would you ever get completely clean if you wear a towel?" He arches an eyebrow, before smiling again. "Gene is a lucky male, and you're a good friend. Of course, that doesn't stop me from being a little jealous of him from time to time, but I understand how sacred a pair-bond is. You know that. Besides, I wouldn't want things to get uncomfortable between us. You know that I find you attractive, but you also know that I understand the situation, so that's really just a compliment." Rythil grins genuinely.
He shrugs again. "It's true that we haven't been presented with empirical data...that's why Firin refuses to commit belief. As for me...well, I guess I'm willing to take the Andalites' word as enough substantiation to believe in the possibility." He pushes his own plate off to the side and takes a huge swig of artificially-sweetened water. It might not be sap-sweetened, but he's glad that the kitchen staff at least take the time to put the sweetening in. It's actually more of a dietary staple for Hork-Bajir than most humans and Yeerks think.
"Theorizing about the nature and motivations of any kind of super-evolved life-forms is fairly fruitless in general." He raises his eyebrows and shrugs again. "It's true that the religions on Earth...at least those I've heard of...do bear some similarity, but one of the main differences is that the super-evolved beings are presumed to be benevolent and loving. The Ellimist theory bears no such preconceptions, and to me, that makes it more believable."
-
Niko laughs quietly again at that. "Well, I'm not exactly a religious man, but the God of the Bible can be kind of a jackass sometimes," he muses. "You know, maybe that does make the big guy a little more believable. Or the Ellimist, for that matter."
He idly turns the mug of water between his hands, hitching a shoulder. "We should hang out more, me and you and Gene and the slugs that live with us," he says off-handedly, eyes on the tin cup. "I'm pretty sure you'd kick everyone's ass on a basketball team, and there have been rumors of boosting morale with that kinda thing. Though I think between James and Chris, and Mike and Patrick and Juliette, there will be a fair running for hockey or soccer, instead."
He eyes Rythil's claws. "You think you could play without puncturing the ball?" he adds with a bemused grin.
-
Rythil smiles, a warm feeling spreading down his body. Maybe he wasn't quite as alone as he'd thought. "I...I think I'd like that. Firin probably won't care, but it'd be fun to hang out with people in our off-time." He smiles a little bit wider, happy to possibly have a true friend after all these months. He feels like some sort of weight that he didn't know was there has been lifted from him...as if he suddenly feels like he belongs somewhere. It's a wonderful feeling.
"I'm pretty dextrous...one learns to be careful with razor claws. I suppose accidents do happen, though. I don't know much about basketball...sports were never really something I learned a lot about. Someone would have to teach me the rules." He smiles. "I suppose it might be possible...lacking trees to climb and swing through, I could use some exercise...running only does so much."
-
Niko shrugs, smiling. "Yarin and I would be glad to teach you the rules, what little we remember," he says plainly. "In any case, we think it'd be good for morale across the base, but you're always welcome to join us." He snickers. "Claws and all."
-
Rythil arches an eyebrow again, still smiling. Normally he can get a sense of emotions from people, but Niko's managing to confuse him a bit. "Well I guess you'll have to show me sometime then, you'd be surprised how careful I can be with my blades." He grins again. "Though I doubt it'd be a good idea for me to take part in some sort of violent contact sport..." He chuckles.
-
"Stay away from hockey, then," Niko advises. "Or football. Any kind of football. Or rugby. Basketball is pretty tame in comparison."
He shrugs. "Do Hork-Bajir even have sports?" he wonders aloud.
-
"Hmm...not in the manner that you might consider. Sometimes, there would be competitions of racing through the trees, either swinging or climbing...but it was never really organized from what I've heard. Just friendly playfulness." He looks down at the empty plates. "Most Hork-Bajir life involved friendliness and playfulness...befor e the Yeerks and the Abomination."
Rythil shrugs, but looks up at Niko and smiles a bit, thinking that maybe there would be some more friendliness again here. "But here with people like you and Yarin, well it's enough to give us hope." He grins a little wider again.
-
"Not all Yeerks are about war and catastrophe and abomination," Niko recites, transliterating for Yarin. He sniffs. "Some actually want parties with cake, and techno music. Oh, how long it took him to warm up to music." He smirks. "Though really, Gene won't go near the stuff that Yarin and I like. He'd much rather listen to classic rock."
-
"Yes, I know. Races don't fit common molds, I'm just saying that it's nice to see the truth of that statement." He smiles again.
"Techno music? I admit, I've heard a few good stories about glow sticks and...mesh...garmen ts." Rythil's eyes glaze a bit before he shrugs and chuckles again to himself. "Firin and I have always preferred the strains of a classical score. It's...soothing...in a way I can't describe."
-
Niko laughs. "Techno and classical," he says approvingly, nodding. "Well, we're not exactly breaking any molds, here. But yes, I like thinking about us bringing people together for some entertainment. Why not?" He shakes his head. "We need to morale boost. Think you could help us out if we started planning?"
-
"Well, I guess that depends on what you want me to help with. I'd be happy to help, but, for example, I doubt many people would accept party invitations from a Hork-Bajir." Rythil shrugs, but continues to smile a bit.
-
"Not if they knew who was behind the invitation," Niko says earnestly, smiling. "I think Dominic would see to that."
-
Rythil arches an eyebrow, trying not to betray his own curiosity about this Dominic person. "Dominic? I don't think I've met him. I take it he enjoys parties?"
-
"Oh, I'm pretty sure he invented the word party," Niko says conspiratorially, laughing. "Maybe he isn't quite as smooth as he used to be, but then again, neither am I. Perhaps you should meet him sometime."
-
Rythil shrugs noncommittally. "I'm always open to meeting new people." He smiles again. "And I'm sure any friend of yours wold be sociable."
-
"Except for Gene, poor boy, he's been working on that for a very long time," Niko says with a smile. "I shouldn't give him too much of a hard time, really. Kellim has helped him a great deal with his social anxiety. Not to mention...everythin g else." He shrugs and looks down at his empty plate again, suddenly a bit sullen.
-
Rythil senses a change in Niko, and reaches a clawed hand across the table. Had Niko's hand been laying on the table, Rythil would've laid his atop it as a gesture of empathy, instead, it's meant merely as a gesture of openness. "Niko...is something wrong?"
-
He shrugs. "No, it's fine, Rythil," he sighs, forcing a smile. "Thanks. Just suddenly a little melancholy, that's all. I don't know how much Gene has told you about what happened to him, on Earth. How he came here?"
-
"We've barely met...really just in passing. Everything I know about him I know from you." Rythil tries to project openness and empathy as he speaks. "If you want to talk about it...well, I won't pass anything on to anyone else. And I'm a pretty good listener. But whatever you want to tell me is up to you and Gene." He smiles a bit.
-
After Xevec finished lunch, he went to his and Derrel's room to start writing up some plans for traps he could devise with explosives. Though explosives could also be used for mining, even though he didn't do much of that in the Empire. He wanted to make sure he was pulling his own weight, and he'd feel safer if he could add to the security systems a bit.
<Just try not to overdo it.> Derrel said.
<I won't. They'll be small. They just need to be enough to slow down the invading enemy enough for us to escape.>
He writes up some plans involving shrapnel, fire charges, and even some death trap rooms if they wanted to get inventive. Ignoring Derrel's thought that death rooms might fall under the 'overdone' list. He wasn't sure if any orbital mines would get used, since that would be a pretty good indication that there was something on the planetoid worth investigating.
He also drew up plans for mining explosives, just to show he could make some constructive things that didn't involve killing people.
After finishing, he went looking for Reven, but couldn't easily find the guy. Derrel knew Keslin was like a second command, so they found him.
"Hey, Keslin. I'm Xevec. I was recently trying to think of ways to help out around the base, and wrote up some stuff. Maybe it will help out. Can't be too careful, right?"
-
Keslin blinks in surprise, coming to an abrupt halt in the hallway as he is addressed by someone he does not know too well. Not one of the pirates, that is for sure. "Uh...yeah. Yeah, sure, I've got a few minutes before I need to be in the med bay. Here, come on into my quarters. Tess is at a doctor's appointment right now, so we'll have the place to ourselves."
He continues the short distance down the hall to his end destination, palming the door open and stepping into his quarters. The interior of the room is cramped -- even more so than most of the rebel quarters. This is in large part due to the large crib, painted bright green, that has been pushed against one wall. It is unoccupied, and not yet prepared for occupants. There are no blankets or pillows yet, just the bare wooden frame. In addition to the crib, there's the standard-issue cot and desk, with two chairs, and a small folding table next to the cot. Several boxes line the room with a variety of items poking out. Most of them seem to hold either hair styling tools or baby toys.
"Sorry about the mess," Keslin says apologetically, offering Xevec a chair. "I don't think I've properly met you yet."
-
<This is an office?> Xevec thought.
<Yeah, we're not some astute, highly organized group. We're really just a bunch of guys trying to stay alive.> Derrel said. Though to be honest, Xevec had looked through his memories, and should know everything Derrel knows. It's just that looking through memories, and really being there can be different things.
Xevec sat down. "Well, I'm quite new here. I kind of got scapegoated by my 'friends' back in the Empire, and ran into one of your people on my way to escape. Among some small things, I work with explosives. I'd like to try to be as useful as possible, so I wrote up some notes on possible improvements." He put the paper on the desk.
He was a bit nervous about this. He just wasn't used to superiors that were just regular people.
-
"Interesting," Keslin murmurs, wondering who Xevec had the good luck to run into. "What is your name? And your host's name?"
He glances at the papers, thumbing through them briefly. He is impressed, firstly, by the fact that Xevec was bothering to use paper at all, when more sophisticated holoscreens were available. Paper tended to be difficult to come by, and was coveted by the few rebellion members who insisted on continuing to use it.
"Explosives," he repeats slowly, looking through the designs. "For what purpose?"
-
"Xevec 2511 and Derrel. Normally I installed explosives as traps, or to breach rooms during an assault and sabotage. Though I have looked into a few ways to use them in mining. I am prepared to try whatever is needed."
-
Chris' blonde eyebrows shoot up. "A twin?" he asks in surprise at Xevec's designation. He makes a little 'hmm' sound in the back of his throat as he considers the plans. "Well, we tend to use our Taxxons for mining. They're effective at burrowing through rock and don't have the unfortunate side effect of causing a collapse," he says.
Looking up from the plans he considers Xevec for a moment. "If we were at a point where we needed to blow up our own bedrooms, I think we will have larger concerns," he says. "Our Bug Fighters and Skimmers are all armed with Dracon cannon. We can detect threats within our area of space as soon as they emerge from Z-space. Are your explosives more effective than Dracons? And if they're to be placed on base, how would we ensure that none of our own people are harmed on accident?"
-
"Yes, I am a primary twin." The statement made Xevec wonder how his brother was doing. Was he killed in spite after Xevec fled, or was he still alive? Would he try to find Xevec, for good or bad? Who knew?
"We can set up some things to detect Andalites. They would only go off if an Andalite went near them, or triggered them otherwise. I'm not sure if they would be more effective than cannons, except no one needs to be there to set them off if we don't want them too. It's good to know you are able to know something's coming as soon as it's out of Z-Space. I suppose another alternative is if anyone was sent somewhere and needed explosives dor infiltration purposes."
A thought briefly occurred to Xevec that if he could set up some explosives, and wire them so that he could detonate them all at once, it could help him if they decided to turn on him. He quickly pushed that thought aside. He was just being paranoid again. He glanced at the door to the office again out of habit. He needed them to trust him, and having a switch that could blow them all into space wasn't the way to go. Though if they did do it, being genuinely loyal and having the moral high ground wouldn't help much if they decided to kill him. Or worse, sell him out to Visser Three.
<<Xevec? You ok?>> Derrel asked.
<<Fine. Fine. Just nerves again.>>