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- Armistice -
By: Spalose
Prologue
The insides of the Andalite
fighter glowed a pale green-blue in the night.'
Spalose, the owner of the ship, and my shorm, was sleeping in the
corner, using a human blanket for warmth. It puzzled me that he
would use a human article for such purposes, seeing as the
fighter provided its own heat, but perhaps it was all the years
he had secretly spent on Earth as part of the dying establishment
known as TASOPE. The Andalite Service of Planet Exploration had
quickly been turned into an Aristh war movement on the surface of
the planet, once word of the Yeerks had spread to them.
As for now, though, at the
present, we were stationed in orbit over the world Platta, which
was terraformed for the Andalite Unionists by a race known as the
Kandastan. But much of that is in the past. My vision discs
opened up and traced the cord, which was plugged into my small
shell of a body to the large computer terminal that connected me
to the Armistice Networks. The only sentient computer that
existed. Me. The only Andalite brain capable of surfing an entire
Z-Space internet web that linked the Galactic Great Powers. Me.
The only being to never ever really be able to experience true
life. I felt like a Yeerk, sitting there. My mind stuffed into a
cyborg spider body. I closed off the vision discs, after taking
another glance at Spalose, and then, I opened them again to the
web, the rays of Z-Space twining all around me, information being
sent back and forth. A million computer terminal screens were at
my mercy. And so I drifted, shut off from real life, now part of
a virtual one.
Chapter One
So it's inside every
race? Just dwelling there? A force? A wave? What is it?
"It dwells inside all
racesjust like antimatterit's
anti-energy."
--------------------
The wind blew past my stalk eyes
and the grass ruffled against my hooves. I stood on fertile soil,
soon to be enriched and dug by Kandastan hands for farming. It
was hard to believe that we, the arrogant race, were actually
co-existing with our allies on the same planet. Reefi touched my
hand. I turned a stalk eye to look at the three-foot tall
anteater-like creature standing there beside me.
"Good morning, Spalose. You
like to sit out here a lot, it seems," Reefi looked out at
the field, which went on for several miles till it hit the forest
on the horizon. Then he floated up towards my face, levetating
himself with the force known as psionics, very common in the
Kandastan race. "Is something wrong?" he asked.
I turned my head to look directly
at him, replying, No, nothing. I was just enjoying the open
air and fresh grasses. I can't say that much about the
Homeworld. Or should I call it Albia: Homeworld to the
Confederation.
"Yes, not much to say, is
there? Except that you're here, with us, safe from their
traitorous ways," Reefi responded, flitting his small wing
flaps until he landed softly on the soil. The Kandastan owned
twelve planets already, being experts at terraformation. And
their economy hadn't failed for centuries. Yet their
expertise in warfare was defense. We left offense to the Andalite
ships and the Sstram ships. Another one of our allies, the Sstram
race, led a very mysterious fleet called the Sphere, consisting
of two parts, the InnerSphere and the OuterSphere. The Sstram
were unmatched.
Reefi turned and faced the newest
city on the planet of Platta, New Antioch. The city was to be the
capital, named after the one on the Homeworld; Antioch. Already
the largest of the buildings had been assembled.
It looks like the Legion Hall
is already built. My, your workers are very fast. I'm
terribly sorry we're not able to pay you in large amounts
yetafter all, we just made the move from the
Homeworldand our income dropped tremendously. I said.
Reefi nodded. "Oh don't
worry, Spalose, your money isn't too important to us. When
you can pay us is when we'll need it."
It felt good to have a friendly
ally who didn't depend on you all the time. I began to walk
towards the city, thinking constantly about the enemies on the
Homeworld, the Andalites whose leader was a crazy War-King. A
power-hungry force who eventually ALLIED with the Yeerks for
offensive support! The War-King was rumored to have fallen victim
to a psi overloadwhich eventually began to rot at his
braindriving him insane.
I heard footsteps shuffling behind
me, as Reefi hurried to keep up. But seeing as I couldn't
slow down without walking uncomfortably, he lofted into the air
and floated to meet my speed. We arrived at the graveled-out
streets, where the city was a bustle with construction.
Reefi landed and tugged on my fur,
"I have to be going, there's a meeting on KP-4 about
the heat waves. I'll be back in about a week." He
closed his eyes, and with a popping noise, disappeared out of my
vision, using psi to teleport to his ship, a thousand miles west
in the first star port. I marveled at the thought of Psionics,
and the essence of anti-energy living inside every living
creature.
Nestled in the nearby woods around
the main city, was my fighter. It had been my home for so long,
that I didn't find any need to dig myself a scoop that would
only be unfamiliar. And so, as night fell, I walked up the ramp
into the fighter, being greeted by my shorm, Rhazori.
Rhazori was sitting on the
computer terminal in the cockpit, plugged into the nets. As I
approached, his small eyes opened up and he flashed a mechanical
smile. I looked up at the screen, which at the moment had nothing
on it.
I brushed my hand over a small pad
on the terminal, next to Rhazori's small robotic shell, and
the screen came up. On it, a journal-type document was scrolling.
My eyes immediately caught the word 'Seerow," and I
commanded Rhazori to halt the scrolling. The document stopped,
and a list of entries filled the view.
Rhazoriwhat is this?
I asked, perplexed. A small image of an Andalite head appeared in
the right corner of the screen, smiling sheepishly. The head then
moved in front of the document, steadily watching my gaze.
"Itsalright, I
can't hold it in. I've found Seerow's documents.
His actual documents. The ones involved when he was
teaching the Far—I mean the Yeerks," Rhazori stuttered.
Waitwhat did you say
before Yeerks? What were you going to say? I asked,
leaning in on the screen, looking at the apparition floating
there. The head began to grow in size, and covered the entire
screen. I quickly unplugged the cord connecting Rhazori to the
terminal, and the head disappeared. His small body quivered and
he lit up.
"Hey!" he buzzed,
squabbling around on the slanted terminal, until I caught him
before he fell, "Okayyou cannot show this to anyone
else except Tassax and Leepo, because they're trustworthy
ambassadors from both of the Alliesonly I can trust them
with it, and of course, I trust you, Spalose."
But what were you going to say?
I asked again, lifting his small computerized face to look at me.
You began with Far
"The Farlan; the race of
slugs that originally existed on the so-called Yeerk
Homeworld. These are Seerow's entriesand from what
I've learned from itthey weren't evil."
Well, then how did the Yeerks
come about? I asked. Rhazori brought up another document, and
it appeared in front of me on the screen.
"It's called the Journal
of the Creator, a document so valuable, that it's been held
deep in Yeerk security. I barely breached the nets
unnoticed."
Let me read these through, and
then we can council with the Allies, I said. So then I spent
the entire night analyzing and reading the documents before me.
--------------------------
Entry 001:
I've arrived on the
world of Farla, inhabited by strange beings known as Gedds.
The Gedds are clumsy and primitive, and seem to rely on the
help of the Farlan, their symbiotic race. The Farlan have
recently caught my attention. Although they are parasitic,
they are very friendly. I have decided that since they are
the ones truly in control on the surface, I will teach them.
Entry 004:
All day have I explained
the secrets of space flight to them. It has been a week since
I've landed, and already they are learning quickly. One
such Farlan, named Geigher, almost instantaneously picks up
and understand everything I teach. This Farlan has potential.
Entry 009:
Geigher has helped me
successfully build the first terminal on which I can better
explain genetics to the Farlan. He seems to be very excited
about genetics. He is by far the friendliest of my students.
Strangely, though, three Farlan have vanished.
Entry 023:
I am almost ready to leave,
and Geigher has helped me pack up. They have successfully
built a mock lab, and they say as soon as I am gone, their
first city will be started. I feel proud to know that I have
helped a race up off the swampy ground and into civilization.
------------------------------
I thought for awhile after reading
Seerow's documents, and then browsed "Seerow's
Kindness," the law posted everywhere, imbedded in every hull
of every ship. But the law stated only about the Yeerks. How
could this have gotten by? The Hork-Bajir world must have surely
seen the likes of the Farlan.
Rhazori scuttled up behind me and
tapped a metal extremity on the bottom of my hoof. I glanced down
to him, as he stared back up at me.
What? I asked him.
"Tassax and Leepo are here,
they are waiting outside the fighter," he murmured.
I quickly shut off the screen, and
walked to the hatch, opening it for them. Tassax, of course was
not there physically, but only projecting a usable hologram.
Leepo, the bright orange ambassador to the Kandastan, flittered
up and landed inside the fighter. Tassax followed slowly, his
large bulky mass taking a little longer to get in.
As I had learned, the Sstram were
a split race. One sect, created for pilots and engineers, was the
Ratica. At first glance, you'd visualize a huge Earth
cockroach standing on two legs, but having more of a muscular
shape to its arms and a shapelier head. They were all black,
covered in an exo-skeleton, and had no actual speaking mouth,
only the mandibles and opening which they used to intake
vegetation. The other sect, though, I had not ever seen in
person. They resided in the large vessels, which were actually
hollowed out moons. They were called the Zentradi, a centaur like
race with very long hair and six legs. They were the workers and
researchers, who brought in all the money.
On the other end of the spectrum,
was Leepo Kalamari, ambassador, and inventor of the Kalamari
Power Station on the bottom of the ocean on Platta. The Power
Station gave the planet its necessary power for fuel and energy.
The two were seated, and Rhazori settled in the middle of our
group, recording the conversation.
"It's been many a day
since we've met, Spalose," Tassax spoke. Another thing
about the Sstram race that was particularly frightening was their
speech. Amplified in your head and switched around a billion
times over, was binary code in which they used to communicate.
It's frightening at first to actually "see" their
speech, but after awhile, one becomes accustomed to it.
Yes, it has been awhile.
Platta has been a success, I must say! The Yeerkish Empire nor
the Confederacy know about it, so hopefully we'll be able to
bulk up, and maybe hit them at an unexpected moment, I
started, then remembering the secrets I had found out by reading
Seerow's documents. Oh yesthere's something I
must tell you about the Yeerks--
