Disclaimer: The Animorphs and all related things belong to K.A. Applegate and Scholastic, not me. I just want to hang out in their world.

I should not have to beg for this.

That was the thought that ran through War-Prince Alloran-Semitur-Corrass' mind as he walked deliberately to the captains quarters. I should not have to ask permission as if I were some lowly aristh.

That is what comes of being disgraced, his mind offered forward. The Electorate cannot handle real war. So they cut down the real warriors. Alloran's title was a cruel joke now, his presence on the Dome ship a mockery. He had no real duties, was offered no respect. He was only on the StarSword because the Electorate had nowhere else to put him. They might as well have left him tail-less. Then he might be allowed the quiet dignity of a vecol. Here, all he was given were the glares of warriors, the jeers of princes, and the panicked terror of arisths. Though he supposed the last one was not so bad. All these young males came out to space to play at being soldiers, heroes, gods. The Academy filled their minds with lofty thoughts of glory and honor. It would do them good to look upon a real warrior, and to know what the Electorate did to those who served it loyally.

Alloran shook himself from his thoughts as he realized that he had walked past the entrance to the captain's quarters. This is no time to be caught in your own head. With any luck you will be out of here within the week. All he had to do was keep his temper under control, play the subservient role to these puffed up princes, their legs more full of air than grass. He pressed his hand to the pad set into the wall by the doorframe.

{Yes?}, came the response through the communicator.

{War-Prince Alloran-Semitur-Corrass, here for my scheduled meeting with the captain.}

{Of course, come in.} the door slid open and he stepped onto the well-kept grass of the captain's quarters. Alloran gazed around the large open space with his stalk eyes, all the time thinking: They are certainly spoiling the leaders these days. At the height of my career, my quarters were not half this large. This is a ship of war, not a place of relaxation. But the mechanic in him did have to admire the craftsmanship that went into this room; into the whole Dome ship. He preferred the comfort of the Jahar, but recognized the luxury of the Dome.

In the center of the quarters stood Captain Feyorn, along with Prince Nescord, Prince Breeyar, and Sofor. Alloran bobbed his eye stalks in greeting to Sofor. Sofor had fought as one of his soldiers in the conflict on the Hork-Bajir home world. The two of them were never close, but he had stood by his commanding officer, a gesture Alloran would not soon forget. True loyalty was rare these days. Alloran fixed his main eyes on Feyorn, but glanced between Nescord and Breeyar with his stalks. Respect for the friendship of the youth kept Feyorn and he on good terms, but Alloran was never unaware of the contempt Nescord and Breeyar felt for him. Neither of them had fought in the Hork-Bajir conflict; Breeyar had been little more than an aristh at the time. But now they regularly strutted past him, filled with arrogance and pride. The same way Alloran had used to walk.

{How may we help you, War-Prince Alloran?} The formal words sounded strange coming from Feyorn. The structures of power did much to distance even the closest of friends. Alloran stepped further into the clearing and bowed slightly before the group of leaders, dipping down on one foreleg and lowering his head.

{I have come to request a brief leave of absence.}

{Hmm.} Nescord's insolence rang out in Alloran's mind. {Do you find your duties here so challenging that you need some time away?}

A younger Alloran would have challenged him then and there. A prouder Alloran would have made Nescord step on and ingest every one of those disrespectful words. But Hork-Bajir blades had cut away what was left of his youth, and Yeerk slime had washed away his pride. This Alloran had come to beg.

{I request a brief leave of absence to return to the home world.} He paused. Did he really need to justify himself to these people? If they cannot respect you as a prince, perhaps they can pity you as a husband and father. He breathed slowly to calm his emotions. {I have received a message from my wife. My second child was recently born. If at all possible, I would like to go home and see my family.}

Feyorn's eyes filled with warmth for a moment, followed by a touch of concern. {Is Jahar well?}

{Yes, both she and the child are healthy. I ask for this leave because my presence here does not seem to be absolutely necessary at the moment. I would like to see my new child.}

The four of them looked at each other for a moment. Breeyar was the first to respond {Are you requesting the use of a ship for this leave? We do not exactly have any to spare on trips home.}

{No, my own personal ship will be quite enough.}

Alloran looked straight at Captain Feyorn. They had grown apart over the years, but would Feyorn deny him this one request? Feyorn briefly closed him main eyes, and the tilt of Nescord's head made the flow of private communication clear. Sofor darted glances between Alloran and the others, while Breeyar watched the Captain intently.

{War-Prince Alloran} said Feyorn, at long last. Despite himself, Alloran found that he was holding his breath. {I believe we can come to an arrangement. A small mission has come up, a task that needs completion. You are aware of the aliens that were recently rescued from the Skrit Na ship?}

{Yes, sir.} Alloran had no idea where this conversation was going.

{We require someone to man a small voyage to deliver them back to their home world and erase their memories. Sofor here has volunteered his two arisths for duty; they seemed to have bonded with the aliens. But they need a commanding officer and a ship to fly them there. Prince Breeyar has no ships or pilots to spare. If you agree to this mission, then when you return you will be granted your leave of absence.}

Oh, how the once- sharp tail blade dulls. This was delivery work, something that should have been handed off to a warrior at most. A War-Prince should not have to bend to this level in order to get permission to go and meet his children. He tried to keep the rage out of his expression as he looked at Nescord's smirk, Breeyar's disdain, Sofor's concerned eyes and Feyorn's pity. This was too low, even for someone as disgraced as him.

But could he really bring himself to refuse? His hurt pride was cut through by the image of Jahar, his lovely Jahar, waiting at home. He knew she was not alone: her mother still lived, and Arbat stopped by to offer support whenever he could. She was a strong female, fully capable of fulfilling her occupation as a neurologist and raising children. He could never have married someone weak. But that did not mean she did not desire to have her husband home. He had been away when their first was born as well. He was a soldier on patrol on the Yeerk home world, back when people still believed in Seerow's nonsense. He had been too young to justify asking for time away; by the time he returned there was no longer an infant waiting for him, but a strong and healthy youth. He had been ecstatic to meet his first child, but regretted missing those early times. He did not want to make the same mistake this time. He wanted to be able to hold an infant's hand and know that together, he and Jahar had brought this new life into the universe. The universe that he tried so very hard to make safe.

The princes were waiting for an answer. He stepped on his pride, and said {Thank you, Captain, for this opportunity. I will deliver these two aliens to their home planet.}

{I am glad to hear it, War-Prince Alloran. You will lead the arisths in this mission. Crew members will prepare your ship and ready the aliens. Coordinates will be sent down to the docking bay for you.} Feyorn said. {Now if you will all excuse me, I have some other matters to attend to.} Sofor, Nescord and Breeyar began to leave; Nescord made sure to stand especially tall when passing Alloran.

{Oh, and Alloran?} said Feyorn in private though speech as Alloran neared the door. {Congratulations. Tell Jahar I said so as well.}

{I will.}

He walked out into the hallway, head filled with more thoughts and emotions than he had gone in with. Yes, he had succeeded. He was going home. That alone filled him with joy, but the sting of shame tempered what should have been a pure happy moment. What kind of father could he be when he allowed himself to be degraded in such ways? What kind of example was he setting when he allowed scum like Nescord to dictate his actions? The order came from Feyorn, but it was clearly Nescord's idea.

He once again became lost in thought, so he did not realize that Sofor was waiting for him at the end of the hallway. {Congratulations, War-Prince Alloran.}

Alloran almost smiled. After all this time and all the disgrace, Sofor was still every bit a soldier. Others saw Sofor as gruff and at times sarcastic, but this was the one person who was always sincere when he referred to Alloran's title.

{Thank you, Sofor.} The two of them headed off in the direction of the dome, passing warriors and princes darting in and out of their quarters.

{I remember you talking about your eldest. A daughter, if I recall?}

{Yes, our eldest, Tarabet-Semitur-Hirtan. She is school age now. According to my wife, she is very happy to have a younger sister.}

{Two daughters?} Alloran saw the question in Sofor's main eyes, although he would most likely feel it was improper to ask. With the Electorate keeping the number of children at two, many couples hoped that at least one of their infants would come out sporting the big tail blade. The only way couples could avoid the limit is if one of their first two was born a vecol; no one counted them as children.

But Alloran had been happy to hear that he had two daughters. Tarabet was already as headstrong as any male. He could run in fields with her as well as any father could run with a son. And most importantly in his mind, he could look at his child and know that she would never end up on the wrong side of a Dracon beam. She would grow and prosper, learn a trade, get married, and have her own children, all on the safety of the home world. She would do all this while other father's sons were off in the Academy, learning the best ways to sacrifice their lives for a government that would turn on them in an instant. If their second child had been male, Alloran would have loved him just as much; that did not mean he was not relieved when he received the news that he now had two lovely daughters waiting for him in a scoop back home.

{Yes, two daughters. From what I have seen of those arisths of yours, I think I am avoiding a great deal of trouble by having females.}

Sofor laughed. {Yes, those two certainly do not shape up to much. One is far too intellectual, yet it is the other who cannot keep his thoughts to himself.} Sofor glanced at him with a stalk eye. {I am sorry you ended up with them. At least it will be short mission.}

{Yes. Hopefully I can be back in time for the official naming.}

{What are you and your wife thinking of?}

{Mendaheen. Mendaheen-Denbre-Salawar.} The two had reached the dome, full of its grasses and flowers, carefully chosen to provide a cross-section of the Andalite home world. Plants had been chosen from all different areas on the planet so that all warriors could see something that reminded them of home. Sofor bade him farewell, and Alloran wandered over to the stream that cut through the artificial field. He stuck a hoof in to drink, and found himself awash in the memory of the first time he had shared a drink with Tarabet. Mere hours after he had returned home, the two of them had gone running. He had kept his gait slow and careful, but by the end she was still very tired from trying to keep up, small thing that she was. So tired that when she tried to drink she had fallen in, splashing water over both of them. She had looked up at him, nervously expecting some sort of reprimand from this new, large figure. Her expression changed when he jumped in and splashed her in return. Her fur carried the same metallic glint as his did, making the drops of water on her sparkle. He loved his daughter. Now he had one more to love. One more to care for, to protect, to defend at all costs. A chance to see her, to see his entire family together, was worth a little wounded pride.

All you have to do is watch after a few arisths and aliens. Get out there, get it over with, and get back home.

It will not take that long.