The Galactic War: Rogue Element ~The Beginning

[Terenia]

"Ngh?" Chris grunts, blinking blearily. His hand tightens around Tess' and he groans, pulling himself into a sitting position and looking around, confused. "What time is it?" he mutters.

<<You are impossible,>> Keslin murmurs, sliding into a much more control, Chris' expression immediately becoming more alert as the Yeerk shifts onto his knees. "Tess, how do you feel?" he whispers, eyes intense on her face. His gaze is only drawn away by the knowledge that the creatures the have created are also in the room, not far away. He raises Tess' hand to his lips and stands, going over to the makeshift cot and staring down at the infants tremulously.

The expression on his face can only be described as awe, and he reaches one shaking hand down to gently touch one of the sleeping boy's impossiby tiny hands. The child looks up at him, then makes a loud sound of protest that makes Keslin jump and retract his hand. Then he frowns, his gaze falling to the other child.

"Tess?" he whispers, his voice suddenly urgent. "Tess--"


Aya groans a little in her mind. <<I'm up, I'm up,>> Aya murmurs, surprised by how well she was able to sleep in the midst of all the tragedy and uncertainty. <<Tess. We need to check on Tess.>>


Terenia rolls onto her back, turning her head so that she can see Myitt in the bed with Illim. The sight of the four of them together, safe and in one another's arms, makes her throat close painfully, and she turns back over, lifting a shoulder to shrug in response to Myitt's question.


Efaen finishes feeding quickly, eager to resume human form. Once she is full she stops at the stream, drinking her fill. Her eyes roam the Dome, taking in the various occupants; some she recognizes and some she does not. She does not approach any of them, preferring her solitude.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Ossanlin nods as Claxter approaches.  <And a pleasant morning to you, Command Warrior.  I rested as much as could be allowed.>  He notes Claxter's tired-looking eyes before continuing.  <It's unfortunate, but understandable considering the stress we've all been through of late.  Eventually you'll learn to put yourself to sleep.  An indispensable skill for warriors...rest when you can, so that you can fight when you must...or so the old combatant's saying goes.>

He notes Claxter's soaked legs, but doesn't comment.  <Natural birth seems to be a very taxing experience for nearly all organic species.  And we may well see the young today, but only if their parents invite us.  This is a time for parental bonding...I assume it is this way for humans as well.  Once they feel that their exclusive bonding period has passed, they will invite those of whom they wish to greet the young.>  Ossanlin shrugs.  <I admit, I've not spoken to Tara directly upon the matter, so human ways may be different...but it seems a safe assumption.  The parental bond is nearly a constant amongst most high-functioning, binary species.>

Ossanlin begins to stretch his arms and legs, bending his body in different poses, the beginning of his morning kata.  He always stretches before performing the morning ritual, and then performs a quick dance of forms with his tail and katana.  He generally saves the full training regimen until he's off-duty for the day.  Enorryma would generally join him for both the morning ritual and the training regimen after-duty.  He smiles to himself, thinking he might get her to train with hand-blades yet.  She seems to be the only one who's showcased even the slightest bit of interest in his katana.

<Depending upon how this first rendezvous goes, Claxter, I'll have Prince-Commander Enorryma begin your instruction on the Tyrennian's helm...perhaps as soon as two days from now.>  He glances at the younger male Andalite with his main eyes, still arching his upper body to the side in a stretch.  <If you are too tired to carry out your regular duties, you may retire to your room once again for sleep...yesterday was especially trying.>  He doesn't add that he can't afford to have Claxter fall asleep whilst on-duty.  And besides, Claxter had been seriously wounded in the action...morphing to heal always seemed to take more energy than otherwise...and put that next to the fact that living for any amount of time with such egregious injuries taxed the body...well, it really took it out of a person.  Ossanlin himself feels a deep fatigue, but he can't afford himself the luxury of further sleep.  There are too many things for him to do.

[Estelore]

Enorryma slowly woke, finding herself leaning slightly against the wall of the cabin she'd used for the night. She winced as she stretched and straightened her posture, finding half a dozen new aches lingering from yesterday, and a dry foul taste in her hooves, leftover from the stims she'd taken during the Z-Space hectic activity. She dispensed water in the room's small floor fountain, clearing the taste and doing the first segment of the religious morning ritual. As she meditated on this moment, she hoped that the humans and their young in the next room were doing well.

She next drew her sidearm, checked the battery and lens array, and finding everything in its proper order, holstered it. She flexed and snapped her tail through the air a couple times, keeping the movement limited enough that it wouldn't crack loudly and wake anybody who might still be asleep nearby.

Finally feeling she'd shaken off the worst of the bleariness, she exited the cabin and started toward the ship's dome, hoping to get a bit of eating done before the first crisis of the day. The way she figured it, if there was already an emergency in progress, somebody would have fetched her by now... which meant she had at least a little bit of time to get herself collected, before reporting to Ossanlin for duty.

[KitsuneMarie]

Tess tries and fails again to sit up, blinking worriedly at Keslin and Chris. Her insides feel like jelly, and she dimly wonders if she'll ever feel quite normal again--after the grueling experience the previous evening had been.

"What is it?" she asks, voice more sluggish than she'd like. She cranes her neck, but it doesn't allow her to see over the edge of the makeshift crib. At his urgent tone, she shivers with a pang of fear. "Are the boys alright?"


Illim grunts as he sits up, putting his feet on the cold floor with some effort. "God, how is it that I feel about a decade older than yesterday?" he mutters, scrubbing his face with both hands. He looks between Terenia and Myitt, then murmurs, "Reckon I should try to find us some food? You know, beyond grass?"


Serid watches Niko come and go, followed by Claxter. Trusting that Ossanlin knows where to find him if needed, he makes his way quietly out of the Dome and towards the bridge where he plans to begin taking up his station for the day.

[Chad32]

<I seem to have grown used to quiet when it is time to sleep. That will be something to work on.> Claxter said. He perked up a little when Ossanlin did some exercises, paying attention to how he moved his arms, so he might try the same thing later. He might have mentioned something about it, but he was too tired.

<I will retire to my room, sir, and try to get a few more minutes rest. I will be sure to be ready for helm training.> He said, and made his way back to his room. He saw that Efaen had made it out of her room, which was nice, though she was still insistant on using a morph instead of her own beautiful form. He would need to have some kind of plan if he was going to make progress with her.

[Myitt]

"I don't know if I can eat anything," Myitt murmurs, clutching at her stomach. "Ugh. I want to check on Tess before I can stomach food."

Slowly she drags herself to her feet. "You think we'll ever get a change of clothes?" she asks dryly, chuckling. "Imagine me, asking that."

She reaches down to offer Terenia a hand. "Come on, man. Let's go get something to eat."

[Shenmue654]

Keshin takes control as soon as Joanne regains composure, cracking her back and wandering out the door. There was really only one place he could go---the Dome. The alien, beautiful, strange miniature world of the Dome. Seeing wide-open fields of color and life was a pleasure that never failed to take even his breath away. Once they entered the dome, Keshin nearly gasped at the beauty of the ending Andalite sunset. Artificial or not, he couldn't help but sit down and watch in the grass.

<Gotta admit----it's prettier than back home.>

<I wouldn't say that.>

<Nah, I mean---there was grass here and there where I was from, but we humans didn' care so much to put it in everything.>

<The Andalites are different. They cannot live without access to grass, and to nature.>

<If they were human, they'd find some way to make grass an' even nature substitute.>

<.......I'll give you that one.>

Keshin watched the morning's events go on, Andalites, Yeerks and humans intermingling in this strange situation they'd blundered into. Such diversity was odd to watch----in his own time, he had only seen it among the Yeerks themselves. War-Prince Ossanlin was a troubling persona, different from most leaders he'd seen. His friendship seemed immortal but his mistrust equally so--it would take him some time to obtain anyone's trust. Yet Ossanlin allowed complete strangers, aliens even, to wander freely in his ship. A move that, in Keshin's experience, was foolhardy and would end in the commander's loss. The species Keshin knew could not even be kind among their own.

Keshin wandered through the grass. He would attempt to believe in Ossanlin's claims of brotherhood. Perhaps, if the Peace Movement had survived as long as it did, there was merit to them.

[Terenia]

Chris stares down at the unmoving child, his throat tightening. "I don't--" He cuts off with a choking sound. "Medic. We need a medic. Right now." He gingerly lifts the child, and his brother begins to cry a loud, piercing wail. Chris swallows, looking between the two, at a loss. "Tess, he isn't breathing. Oh God, what do I do?" He places a finger against his tiny neck, feeling for a pulse, not knowing the first thing about infant care. Tears, never far these days, prick suddenly at his eyes.


"Not hungry," Terenia mumbles, but she takes Myitt's hand and lets her pull her to her feet. Once standing she sways a little, clearly exhausted. Catching her balance she pulls her hand away from Myitt, shoving it into her pocket and dropping her gaze to the ground, waiting to be told what to do.


Efaen finishes drinking and sighs, looking out at the faux sunrise with her four Andalite eyes. Move your stalk eyes, she reminds herself. It is something she is constantly forgetting, and despite the fact that her Andalite brain is designed to see in all four directions easily, it still makes her dizzy to look behind and in front at the same time.

Stepping back from the stream, she looks around, forcing herself to do so with her stalk eyes rather than her main eyes. As much as she dislikes her true form, she des recognize the practicality of being familiar with it. If she is caught unaware, she may not have time to morph, and her Andalite form was more deadly than her human form.

Nonetheless, that did not mean she had to stay for long. Once she is satisfied that she knows the whereabouts of everyone who is within the Dome she focuses on her human morph. The morph begins slowly, but quickly speeds up, her human body emerging out of her Andalite's almost seemlessly, with unpracticed and unrefined natural talent. It is easy to see why her original training was in morphing espionage. She has a true knack for the often unpleasant ability.

Once human, Efaen does not seem to know what to do with herself. Deciding against seeking Ossanlin out, and the inevitable question of her looming death, she sits in the grass, glad to have an excuse to watch the sunrise without being expected to look behind her.

[Estelore]

Enorryma makes quick work of breakfast and the remainder of the morning ritual, avoiding interacting with anybody else in the dome by staying along its perimeter instead of near the open center area. She slept later than intended, upon synchronizing her internal clock with the ship's clock, so she wants to get to her post as soon as she can.

On her way out of the dome, she decides to take the hall that passes Tess' room, in order to see how the human mother had fared through the night.

She hears sounds of distress and rushes toward the room, picking up most of what is said, and sends out a thought-speak call for the nearest medical personnel, just as she reaches the threshold of the room and hastily palms open the privacy screen.

<The child- do you know how long he has been unmoving? Is he warm to touch still?> The improvised cradle, unlike the Andalite sleeping pods, would not artificially produce warmth. If the child was still warm, it would have to be his own body heat, and not the product of the technology. If he was still warm, on this chilly ship, then his stillness was recent and had not happened too long into the night to save him.

Enorryma started calculating weight ratios. Would Andalite stimulants even affect a human metabolism, if the child still lives, enough to resume arrested respiration and pulse? If so, an overdose was the greatest threat. If not, what other help could she offer?

[Chad32]

Some time passes, and Claxter wakes up again. He takes a shower and gets cleaned up and ready for what duties need performing that day. The next time he steps out into the dome, he's looking somewhat better. He noticed Efaen in her Human form, looking across the dome, and figured maybe less talking and more just being in each other's company would help. He tried to remember his Human morph, and eventually started turning. Pale skin, brown hair, and a tight short sleeved shirt and shorts.

He walked over, slightly wobbly, and sat down nearby. He rubbed his bare feet on the grass, not getting as pleasant a feeling as he usually got, but still an interesting one.

"Good mmmorning Efaen." He said, attempting a Human smile.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Varekil's communicator wakes him from sleep.  He glances at it...a medical distress-call from the TO.  <<Yaolin...this is all I need...>>

He grabs his field-medic tools and heads straight out the door, galloping down the hallway and up the ramp into the Dome.  He makes his way to the Dome-side entrance of the quarters in which the children had been birthed and opens the door, nodding to Enorryma.  <Prince-Commander.>  He trots forward briskly, the male human-controller holding one of the young, apparently immobile.  He'd left the hovering medical computer in the room in case of emergency...and the alarm had not triggered...of course...in infant Andalites...especia lly undeveloped ones, it wasn't uncommon for one heart to stop for a time to rest while the other two took up the workload.  One heart stopping wasn't an emergency in an Andalite.  An eventual problem if it didn't start again, but not an emergency.  One heart had stopped...but the young human only had the one, and that was very much a problem.

[KitsuneMarie]

"What?" Tess whispers in sudden and deep horror in response to Keslin's words. "What? No, let me see him," she reaches out for the boy.  His skin, still splotchy from the recent birth, is cold, and his heart is as unmoving as his chest. Tears prick at her own eyes and she shakes her head miserably, not even seeming to notice the Andalites descending upon the room. All of her attention is focused on the child who is so terribly, terribly still in Keslin's arms.


"Well, you ought to eat anyway," Illim urges Terenia as he follows them to the door, ordering it open. "You're not gonna do anyone any favors letting yourself get weak and puny. Yeah?" His smile is gentle.

[Terenia]

Chris passes the baby to Tess wordlessly, even as the Andalites begin rushing in. He says nothing, his skin white as a sheet, entire body trembling. The other baby wails plaintively, but he cannot seem to shake himself out of his misery and dread enough to go and see to it.

"What?" he asks in response to Norry's question. "He...he's cold. He wasn't...I don't know, he was breathing when we went to sleep, but..." He swallows, trailing off, unable to continue.


Efaen jumps. Okay, maybe having eyes that look behind you has some uses, she reluctantly admits to herself, scrutinizing the man that is sitting beside her now.

"You aren't one of the rebels," she says, not recognizing him. "Who are you?"


Terenia shrugs, letting Illim and Mytt direct her.

[Chad32]

"Claxter. I did mention I had a Human morph. Orphhh. Hmm. Mouth sounds are fun. I hope you slept well. I have had trouble spending time with you without getting into an argument. I will try to do less talking. Talking. Though making sounds is pretty fun."

[Terenia]

Efaen looks surprised at this, her eyebrows furrowing. "Yes, you did mention you had a human morph," she says, reluctantly looking him up and down. "I didn't expect you to use it. Most Andalites seem fairly opposed to its limitations." She tilts her head a little bit, not entirely sure what to do with this Andalite warrior who continues to approach her.

"Ossanlin is probably going to kill me," she says abruptly, not entirely sure why she is telling him, except that maybe he will not be so eager to talk with someone who is essentially marked as dead. Or maybe you're just scared, she chides herself.