"Oh, Myitt and I go way back, don't we?" Chris says, grinning at Myitt. "Her brother's host is my little cousin, if you can keep that straight." He takes a sip of beer, peering at Serid above the glass. "So, Illim had an Andalite host, eh? That's...interesting."
Zorish continues his halfhearted stagger through the shipyard, trying to find his way back to his own ship.
<<Why won't your vision work correctly?>> he gripes, trying to make everything stop spinning.
<<I don't...I dunno. Just...I wanna lie down...>> Tamora responds hazily.
<<Yeah...>> Zorish stumbles into the hull of a burnt out Skrit Na freighter, sliding down it and to the ground. <<That's a good idea.>> He has a vague notion that it would probably be a good idea to seek shelter, but the cool dirt and gravel feels good against Tamora's cheek and everything is spinning so violently that the only thing he can manage to do is groan lightly and close his eyes.