Einden 728
My name is Einden 728, of the Sar Pentak pool. I am a Yeerk living at the beginning of an era, the dawn of the Yeerk Empire. In the last few years, my people have completed more than had been dreamed of for the previous millennia. We have pulled ourselves out of the pools, thrown off the restraints set down by the Andalites, and moved forward to spread our name throughout the stars. And now, on this small broken planet with its trees reaching to the sky, we have discovered the key to our future.
I was an entry level guard on the Hork-Bajir planet, assigned to the mines. My assignment was to keep the Arn in line while they worked, drawing precious gems and metals out of the earth. With a strong female Hork-Bajir host (who referred to herself as Thak Rala in her whimpering internal monologues), I was able to complete my job easily. The small and stunted Arn were no match for the brutal beasts they had crafted. Save for the occasional trouble from the rebel Hork-Bajir, I was able to spend my time reflecting, thinking deeply about what a magnificent age I lived in.
One day, one of the Arn under my watch began to falter at its work. This was no strange occurrence; their small arms were not built to carry heavy stones. I flexed the muscles and sinews in my arms as I strode over to the Arn. I had my Dracon beam in my bandolier, but I preferred the more tangible, visceral means of execution. What use is having a body if one does not exercise it occasionally?
The Arn noticed my approach and knew what it meant. It cast about, looking for aid from its fellow slaves, but no other looked up from its work. The Arn scanned its surroundings; the other guards on duty had all conceivable methods of escape covered. Its eyes grew wide, its useless wings twitched in a futile attempt at flight, and it began to whimper in its wavering voice, softened further by old age and exhaustion.
"Please. No, please, do not kill me. I can do so much more for you. I'm not at my most useful in a mine. I can still serve you, I swear."
I stood over it and looked down at the pathetic form. I still got a pleasant thrill every time I was able to stand over something, tower over a smaller figure. It was one of the carnal pleasures of my life.
"What could you possibly do for me?" I asked the prostrate Arn. "What could a thing like you offer to something like me?"
Its small claws tapped together as it tried to come up with some offer that I would accept in exchange for its life.
"I am waiting. What do you have to offer me?"
The Arn looked up at me with its gem-like eyes, full of some desperate hope. It croaked out what could very well have been its last words.
"I can make you a body."
(A/N: I got the idea for this fic from comments made by the reviewers Adam and Ifi at Cinnamon Bunzuh. Check out their reviews, there are some seriously good discussions and analysis.)