The Galactic War: Rogue Element ~The Beginning

[Chad32]

"I'm not saying take you on as my host. I was just considering going in there for a bit to actually see what it's like having stalk eyes. I'm quite content with a Human partner as my standard host. It probably shouldn't be needed, though. There's got to be some kind of instinct for dealing with eye stalks. I mean, I know you don't care about being an Andalite, but there is a difference between learning to use a body, and being some arrogant snob who thinks they're better than anyone else and acts like a hypocrite. The best thing to do is probably just tap into those instincts to use the body properly, and you could make a good covert operative."

"As far as the death of my people go, I'm already responsible for a fair number of them. My hands are no less clean than yours."

<<You really like Humans more than Andalites?>> Derrel asked.

<<Very much. You might even say my level of dislike for grasseaters is over nine thousand.>>

<<I might also say you're a dork. The nineties called. They want their meme back.>>

<<Quiet.>>

[Terenia]

Efaen's brows arch sharply. <Arrogant snob?> she echoes huffily. She closes her main eyes, as Illim taught her to do when she finds herself angry, and inhales deeply.

<Perhaps you are right,> she acknowledges slowly. <I find it difficult sometimes to remember that my Andalite instincts are the ones my mind is programmed to follow. I spend so much time in human morph...and I spent so much time on base trying to ignore the part of me that was Andalite...I am out of practice. I need to relax. But Xevec, no amount of giving in to Andalite instinct will make up for the fact that my Andalite knowledge is vastly limited. The Andalites here will not trust me for that fact alone. Hell, I don't even sound like them. They're...alien.>

[Chad32]

"Yeah, those Andalites can be snobs."

"I don't think the Andalites are going to expect you to know much. All the more convenient excuse to ask questions, I think. Not too prodding at first, but we can take baby steps. Look, I know this is a long shot. I'll admit that. I just also think it's worth at least attempting."

[Terenia]

Efaen sighs a little. <I will try,> she says. <However, at the moment, I cannot interfere. They are busy carrying out some mission or another, and they will not permit my presence.> She shrugs her narrow shoulders. <I suppose you are right; I could use the time to acclimate myself to this body.> Stretching her tail a little, she lets out a sigh. <It would be far easier if I could simply remain human permanently,> she laments quietly.

[Chad32]

"Well we both know that becoming a Human nothlit has been done before, though having a morph capable ally has its uses for the rebellion. I probably wouldn't attempt nothlitism before we get a good supply of rations for the Humans, in any case."

"I'll leave you to your practice, if you'd like. We can talk later, after the mission is done and the Andalites come back to the dome."

[Aluminator (Kit)]

Aetheas grows more and more concerned as he watches the feeds of the battle unfolding. They don't have the crew compliment for this sort of raid, and what crew they do have isn't equipped to deal with the enemy they're facing. His stalk eyes turn curiously towards the Captain. Ossanlin must still have faith in his boarding party, but the odds of them surviving this mission... let alone succeeding... without heavy casualties... seem to be decreasing by the minute.

This is one of the few areas wherein Aetheas does not entirely trust his own analysis of the situation. He feels he has no choice but to defer to the decisions of those with more experience in this case.

Still... it looks like such an unimpressive freighter...

<What are you hiding?> he mutters, frowning at the readout of the freighter in front of him.


Resseliss paces, around and around, in the tiny room, trying in vain to ignore the hunger gnawing at his gut.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Ossanlin grimaces as if he'd just stepped upon a patch of rotting grass.  This is not the time...the Light were protecting something aboard that ship, and he desperately wants to know what...but it isn't worth losing people.  Keslin is already in rough shape...this was supposed to be routine.  Simple.  A small crew, easy extra supplies...  <Yaolin.>

He addresses the entire boarding crew.  <Boarders, pull back.  We're aborting.  Tactical retreat on both fronts.  Get back to the shuttle.  Serid, Ferxal, keep that hatch clear until the humanoids get back.>

Ossanlin nods to Esarvit.  <Get as much data from their ARC's as you can.>



Serid grimaces as he hears the call to retreat.  The resistance was already several times that which was expected...in truth, he's surprised that the call to retreat had not come sooner.  They did need supplies, but they needed living crew worse, and the crew was infinitely harder to obtain.

<Alright Ferxal, back it up.>  Serid backs his way out of the hallway, still peppering the upper engineering deck with Shredder-fire.



Firin almost laughs as the order to retreat comes through.  How the dapsen were they supposed to climb an exposed ladder under enemy fire?  He looks over at Keshin and notices a glint from underneath the covering of the crate he's hiding behind.  It's a crate of slightly-strange-looking handheld Dracons.  He furrows his brow and pulls a couple out.  They look almost exactly like a standard handheld, but are a bit wider.  He tucks one under his belt and looks at the small display on the other.  He turns it on and glances at Keshin again.  "I found some Dracons...I could set one to overload and toss it behind their crates...?"

[Chad32]

Ferxal did as commanded. He had wanted a nice battle to ease the stress of almost dying in space, but this was not an easy cathartic fight. It was worse than anyone would have expected, and the call to just retreat wasn't entirely surprising. He kept his main eyes on the hallway while his stalk eyes scanned around. <Hopefully retreat is still a viable option.>

The Hork-Bajir didn't like that the Andalites were going to retreat. "I want my friends to be saved too." He said. He grabbed a couple of dracons out of the crates, and for a moment had a look in his eyes like he might jump out beams blazing, but even his dim mind realized that just wasn't going to happen. at best he'd just be gunned down by invisible controllers. At worse he'd be recaptured.

[Shenmue654]

Joanne glanced overhead slightly as she heard Ossanlin's call to retreat, as if it were coming over a nonexistent loudspeaker. "It's about time, Bluebutt," she muttered irritably. "But how in 'ell are we supposed to do it?!"

Joanne glanced around the room rapidly, looking for any logical means of escape. It was clear that any move for the ladder would get them shot, though. She could not afford to shift speed ever again, and climbing required too much precision for that.

Before she can think on it any further however, Ferxal suddenly mentions something peculiar being inside the crate he is up against. Weirdly shaped handheld Dracons. Are they defective, or some high-value prototype they could use? No time to think about it. "Okay that's good," mutters Joanne quickly. "Throw it quick. We're runnin' outta time and space to get around."

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Firin nods and dials the Dracon up to overload.  It starts to hum loudly.  He tosses it over behind the crates by the other controllers and ducks behind his crate.  He hears shouts and scampering thuds before a massive explosion nearly knocks the wind out of Rythil's lungs.  Rythil's ears ring as Firin picks himself up...claxons seem to be the only thing piercing the Hork-Bajir's dulled hearing as he stands up and looks...his mouth drops open.  Where the other controllers and crates had been, there was nothing...the far wall and a portion of the floor of the cargo bay had been ripped out and Firin could actually see the Tyrennian through the hole.  The red glow of the emergency structural shielding is now the only thing separating him from space.  He sees absolutely nothing left of the controllers...eithe r vaporized or sucked out into space.

[Chad32]

Ferxal almost loses his footing as an explosion rocks the ship. <What was that?> He said, not looking nearly as surprised as a normal person would.  It cam from the area where the secondary team was. <Is everyone ok?>

The Hork-Bajir fell to the ground from the shock. When he looked, he couldn't see anything. Not that the enemy was entirely visible before. The hole in the hull made him think that if they actually survived that, they would be sucked into space. He face was pained as all hope for saving his friends was dashed. It seemed he was going to be the only lucky one.

[Shenmue654]

Joanne rapidly ducks behind her crate, screaming "Fire in the hole!" as Firin tosses the Dracon. Force of habit, she thought with a slight grin, but that was all she managed to think before a massive explosion nearly knocks her back into the crate she was leaning against. She just barely braced herself before it happened, hands over her ears and body scrunched up against the crate.

But it was clear the damage had been done. Joanne coughs up a lungful of smoke and her ears sounded like an air-raid siren had gotten lodged inside. <What...the...****...>

<Get it together, Joanne. It's....obvious something didn't go as planned...>

Joanne slowly lifts herself up off the ground and nearly cries out in shock. Below her, to her left side  was.....The Tyrennian. She was standing just to the left of a massive hole in the ship's floor. They were literally only a few inches away from having died. Actually, she wasn't entirely clear on why she wasn't dead anyway--- She should be out in space!

"Aaaaahhh, what the **** Firin?!" she cried out in sudden panic.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Ossanlin monitors the situation as his boarding crew retreats before his front display lights up, a plume of flame billowing out of the cargo section of the Yeerk freighter.  His hearts jump, but he controls his surprise.  <Team report...do we still have everyone?>


"I...I don't...*cough*...the payload...was much higher than a handheld overload should have been."  Firin stammers out, wiping his scaled brow.

<<Thirty-four.>>

<<This doesn't count.>>

<<Give me one good reason why.>>

<<It wasn't...this isn't the time for this.>>

<<It never is when you're wrong.>>

Firin growls but takes the opportunity to move toward the ladder.  He feels himself lightening suddenly.  The ship's anti-grav must be losing power.  That would be really problematic for the Andalites.  He reaches the ladder and starts climbing.  "I'm not a demolitions expert..."  He says, as if to himself, but loud enough for Keshin and the other Hork-Bajir to hear.



Serid steadies himself as the ship recovers from the blast.  He uses his command functions to access the ARC of each remaining individual of the team.  <Everyone appears to have survived, my Prince.>  He continues to fire down the hallway, though return fire has all but ceased.  <We are holding near the hatch...>  He cuts off as the ship's artificial gravity weakens.  <The artificial gravity is weakening.>

He directs a stalk-eye at Ferxal.  <Are you able to morph a kafit if necessary, Warrior?>

[Chad32]

<Yes, I have a Kafit morph.> Ferxal said. He really hoped he didn't have to do it. Partly because he'd lose all his interesting battle scars, and partly because doing the initial morph that every cadet goes through it was the only time he had ever morphed in his years of service. He didn't know if he could control the bird instincts if he needed to morph, and they had no time to be chasing a Kafit bird around the ship.

The nameless Hork-Bajir waited at the ladder for Joanne, to make sure she made it out, then would follow behind. He had received the least amoutn of shock from th explosion, so he felt he should take up the rear.

[Shenmue654]

Joanne hastily steadies herself in light of the depleting...weight?....gravity. It was definitely called gravity. She had to have learned something in middle school science class all those years ago. Joanne hurries up the ladder ahead of Ferxal. She calls back, "Come on, buddy!" as soon as she sees him lingering. It was not a good idea to stay in that room.

"Clearly not!" Joanne says irritably, upon hearing Firin's comment on the rafters.