As told by the Captain of the destroyer Nirvana, John M. Leeroy of Mars
Guerrilla Ranks: Elite SS Operative, Veteran Swamp-Warrior
Dead. I was dead. Wait, I wasn't dead, was I? I couldn't be dead. Then how the heck would I be writing here and now? I've heard of aparitional manifestation, but I didn't feel any different. Other than my entire body ached with pain from the explosion, but it wasn't like anything ghost-like.
My senses came back to me about 5 minutes later after a long stage of temporary paralysis. My legs were burned to the third degree, and blood covered my arms. The oozing, sticky blood acted as somewhat of a glue mixed in with my feeble strength and my sweat to keep me from moving my arms. I could see to a decent extent, seeing as a sub-nuclear explosion had taken place, but a decreasingly loud ringing sounded into my ear.
My vision was a bit blurry, but I could see that I was next to a huge pile of rubble on the exterior of the complex. Several malfunctioning Tc3's spilled out gibberish that made my ears ring louder. No humans. How long had I been dead? Or, you know what I mean. And how the heck did I survive? It wasn't plausible, except for the possibility that I had manifested into a aparitional state of being, which I doubt I had. Strange world.
I started to get up, but gravity immediatly countered my body's attempts. Persistently trying again, I managed to sit-up, but my scorched legs couldn't bear any weight on them without terrible pain, yet. I rolled over to a pile of rubble and metal that was nearby.
"Okay, let's see here. Friction-less surface and a form of propulsion. Should be easy enough. Provided that the Tc3's are adaptable enough to have friction-less surfaces," I thought outloud.
Getting straight to work, I immediatly found a sheet of friction-less foil that could cover a larger piece of metal. Finding the metal, my hands got quickly to work on making a sort of "wheel chair". The foil was placed underneath the steel plate, and I used all my remaining strength to get on top of it.
I picked up an iron rod and started to push myself out of the little cave-like terrain I was in, kind of like a rowed oar boat. Except that just one push would be enough to propel me for miles, unless I turned it by crudely pushing the other way. It would work, in a mechanical sense, anyway.
I took a large push and immidiatly the oddly-shaped "wheel chair" flew off down the hill around the wall-less cave-like structure I was in. Hopefully I would get my legs back, but first things first.
***********************************
As told by the F/y 49 pilot, Lieutenant James "Bloodhound" Kirk
Beta Squadron Lead
"Lieutenant, report to the barracks immediatly. Commander's orders," a young field officer said to me. He had a glint of excitement in his eyes.
"Affirmitive. Return to your post and tell all the squadrons, including Elipson, to stay near their craft."
"Yes, sir," he said and ran off.
I started walking at a brisk pace through the hanger to the rather conspicuous quarters of Commander Winston. There were about 8 F/y's being repaired and the shouts of the engineers rang in my ear for quite some time. The door opened and Commander Winston was talking with the head Senate representive via holo.
"I must insist you go through with this, Commander."
"We have. Our forces have nearly taken Fairwinds already, although several resistence forces have uprisen. No trouble, however. The Col will be under the government's control within an hour."
"Wow, very impressive, Commander."
"I even impress myself. I'll tell you what happens from now on. End transmission," the commander concluded as the transmission was cut off. He turned to look me over and then spoke.
"Well, Lieutenant, nice to see you. Or should I say Beta Squadron lead."
"Nice to see you again, sir," I said. I had seen him once before when he personally promoted me to squadron lead and lieutenant in front of several other high-ranking officials.
"Yes, quite. I have called you here because Alpha Lead has told me that you had called off the air attack. Why is it?" He asked. It was more of a question than a demand because Commander Winston was a far calmer character than most.
"Sir, it is quite a long story, but since I am obliged to tell it, I will do so. When escorting Omega to their positions, Beta discovered that a super-cloaker was delivering air-raids on the Tc3's. I tallied up the angles of the descent of the missiles and found a rough vertex, perfect for me to run a Z-space scan and locate the craft. Inside where two, 10-year old SS-trainees piloting the craft by themselves," I began. For some reason, Commander Winston seemed indifferant to the startling fact.
"They contacted me and started telling me about the group that practiced the form of irregular guerrilla warfare that Fairwinds teaches about. It turns out that the group was a team of shape-shifters using an ancient andilite form of technology to do so in a biological standard. They aquired DNA through the skin of animals and from there they could exploit a fluctuating-bond between here and Z-space to slowly switch their DNA with that of an animal's. The group, named the Animorphs, consisted of 5 humans and an andilite about 400 years ago."
"Hmmm, I see your evidence, Lieutenant, however, of what are you trying to convince me?"
"Well, sir, according to the kids, the Animorphs fought off an enemy named the yeerks. The ye-"
"I know who the yeerks are, Lieutenant, and it's interesting that the group that we are trying to erase all traces of is made up of the soul saviors of the human race and planet Earth. Very interesting..." He said. This took me by surprise, because I had never heard about the yeerks before, but commanders know a LOT more than most military personel.
"That's my reason sir. And there is another thing you'd might like to know about them."
"Yes, what's that?"
"Well, sir, have you ever heard of quantum degeneration stage 2?" I asked.
"I've heard of it once, it's supposed to be impossible right?"
"No, sir, it's not impossible. You see, through this method, the Animorphs were accidently catapulted through time and they hit, guess where? Here. Now. And they are the ones that were the reptilian beasts that are dinosaurs, from planet Earth."
"I see, very interesting, Lieutenant. You've convinced me enough to pull out the Tc3's and stop the attack. We will deactiv-" The commander was cut off with an enourmous explosion that racketed the walls around us. It spilled his tea in front of me, and several pictures fell off the walls.
"It seems that someone already has, Lieutenant. Go fetch him and bring him to be. It might be one of the Animorphs, as you say."
"Yes sir."
"You are dismissed, Lieutenant Kirk," he said, giving me a quick salute which I returned as I jogged out of his quarters to get a chaingun. Already, maintanence crews were buisily fixing the damage that had been done to the hanger, which in fact was very little, if any.
I came around the corner to the main armory where I could equip myself with a chaingun to protect me in finding out who set off the explosion. Even though I was a squadron leader, I still wasn't that experienced in ground weapons and so I was kind of nervous taking the chaingun from the rack. I cocked the repeated fire function of the semi-rifle and started out towards the location of the explosion, chaingun leveled near my chest.
I walked around the debris-filled area for several minutes, while the disgusting smell of burnt titanium plates filled the air. Tc3 parts littered the area, and the caves had collapsed, leaving odd, no-walled structures in their place. I came to the bottom of a small hill that led up to an even more affected place when I saw him. Or it. I could not see what ever it was clearly, but it hid in the shadows.
Being the ambitious soul I am, I dared to contact it, "Hello, my name is Lieutenant James Kirk. Identify yourself."
The creature shrouded in darkness then spoke with a raspy voice, and very slowly. "Hello, Bloodhound. Nice to meet you."
BLOODHOUND?! How did the creature know my codename? Could it have been a Leeran? No, the Leerans weren't any where near here, and they prefered to spend their time underwater. Besides, the creature wasn't in the shape of one of the physcic, aquatic beings anyways.
"My name?" It continued in the slow raspy voice. "My name is Captain John "Condor" Leeroy of the Destroyer Nirvana. I have been the chief of N&E onboard the Utopia and an Elite SS Operative. You look surprised, no?" The captain asked. Yes, I did look surprised. Wasn't John Leeroy the name of one of the X-65a kid pilots? It was! But the kids were-, wait a second....
The shape of Condor emerged from the shadows showing a bruised face and a scorched body. His legs clearly suffered from third degree burns, and I doubt he would make it longer than 2 more hours without immediate medical attention. Fourtunatly, the medical wing of the base was in a special bunker, so little harm was done to it in the explosion.
My eyes drew attention to his tattered clothing that bore the insignia of a starship captain. He smiled weakly. "James Kirk, an experienced fighter pilot and soon-to-be commander of every human squadron known to man, or at least, in SOL-15. You are wondering how I know this?" I nodded. "First off, do you know about the Animorphs?" Recalling from the name that the kids had used, I nodded once more. "Well, the only way you should know is that John and Fred told you about the D2 effect, so I will tell you my side of the story.
"In approaximatly 15 years, the most destructive force ever known will be approaching all the human colonies. They are called the Sycthes, and they will release deadly biological weapons that will kill off most of our civilization. You and me and about 30 others from Mars will escape, and we wll hook up with every other known human in the sector and the surrounding ones. There might have been others, but we were the only living humans in SOL-15.
"We set up a base on Lapios, in the system YIN-12, and terraformed the planet, but an ancient race named the yeerks, you've heard of them, haven't you?" I nodded, "...came back from the past to attempt to destroy us. Another force brought the Animorphs to Lapios, and several battles were won before the yeerks used the D1 effect on us. We traveled to the Swamps of Joiren and Hiroshima, before they used an enormous amount of energy to throw us into the last stage of a D2 effect. My other companions, the Ruin of the Reign, are somewhere else, probably still in the D1 effect.
"Oh, and another thing. I can morph. Just like the Animorphs. We had recovered the remains of project bio-switch and perfected it using Morphine473 to deaden the pain. In fact I think I now have the strength to morph and get rid of the pain and the burns right now. Do you mind?" What the heck do you mean? Of course I wanted to see a person turn into a 100 million year-old reptilian beast!
"No sir, I don't mind."
Well, I soon later found out that I did start to mind that he was morphing a 50-foot crocodile from planet Earth. He started to morph when his skin slowly started turning a really deep-green, but then it started to crack apart, like a parched ground in the middle of a smoldering hot day. I yelled in fright but then he said, "Don't worry, this does me no pain."
He started to grow a tail that shot straight out behind him as his legs developed to suit the reptilian body of his. The weight forced him onto his front legs, while his head started to elongate into a large beak. Seemingly monofiliment-like teeth burst out from his gums and his shape changed fully reptile. But, that wasn't it. Condor was still the size of a human, and he had a lot of growing to do.
The crocodile simply bloated in size until it was a massive hulk of flesh. 50-feet long and poised, ready to strike. But I knew that it had the cerebral cortex of Condor, and most of the brain was his. He started to demorph in a fashion that was similar to the way he morphed, and within about a minute, he was standing fully erect without any injuries.
"Amazing, sir!" I blurted out.
"Don't call me sir. To where I'm going, you technically have a higher rank than me. Good luck. I'll see you as an older person back in the future, if it's at all possible."
"Yes, s-, I mean, Condor." He gave me a smile and jogged off past the ruins of the west wing of the base and behind a distant ridge. I waved him on, and started heading back to the eastern side of the military complex.
And so concludes my story. I know you shall hear Condor's, but this is the end for me. Au revoir!
************************
As told by the Captain of the destroyer Nirvana, John M. Leeroy of Mars
Guerrilla Ranks: Elite SS Operative, Veteran Swamp-Warrior
I gave Kirk a smile and jogged back to our little centralized spot on the back of the ridge. A battle won, and a lot of experience gained. All the yeerks got was a migraine from all the yelling their commander gave them because they lost. I would vow to turn that migraine into death, someday.
I returned to our base behind the ridge. Jake yelled at me, saying that he was in command, but I reminded him that he was not a good leader if he never saw the logic in what I was doing. In fact, I won the battle for you, I said, which shut him up right away. The quantum dust winds came and went, leaving me in my time and the Animorphs in theirs. The Reign of Ruin shared hundreds of stories, like the swamps of Joiren, the Urban Battles at Morraco, the Battle of Lingpopo fortress, Cheyrnobel, Valley of Tears, Sengir Wars, everything so exiting that we just couldn't keep still.
The D2 effect had changed things at well. Bloodhound and I sometimes talked secretly about each other's experiences at the Valley of Tears, which I always looked forward to doing with the senior officer. The yeerks had been thoroughly defeated by useage of the widespread knowledge of them and the Animorphs, and the population had increased to some extent.
That week, we moved out of our subterranian homes in the caves and started setting up colonies across the vast plains near the equator and the valuable diamond and iron mines near the poles. Eventually, after several months, we declared different nations, and both nations competed in a competitive, but friendly race to claim the most land on the planet. In the end, both Imporia and Mortae claimed about the same, but Mortae had control of the large diamond and iron mines to the north and some to the south. However, Imporia was quick to take advantage of their militarily desicive locations, and their military might surpassed Mortae in all respects.
Fourtunatly, both of the nations agreed to be ruled under one government with several representitives from each party. It would run like a senate, and as the countries grew in population, more legislative branches were formed to represent the smaller provinces.
All this took place in less than a year. I am the leader of the military council's guerrilla warfare and standardized warfare divisions, which make up two-thirds of the entire council. Pete Quin is the supreme commander of all the senate, but hasn't called himself a president quite yet. Jaguar is the leader of the air/space craft division of the council, and Incinerator is chief technician on our super-battleship, the Euphoria. Amazon has become our commanding biological warden, and had started to develop more advanced prototypes of the Pacjib for experience warriors to use. Buttons? He's actually turned out to be a half-decent friend working as a the chief engineer on the Eurporia.
I now look back on my experiences a year back. I remember the last words I said to Jake before traveling back on the timeline, "Comrade, we shall always fight. Never surrendering. Never yielding. Godspeed." I know that it was the last thing I would ever say, but sometimes I wondered. My spiritual family showed me it. It was beyond inevitable if that was so.
Someday. Somewhere. It didn't matter which.
I was to see them again.....
The End
A/N: Man, I really like my story. To all other authors, doesn't it just feel great wrapping up a very hard-worked masterpiece? Well, it certainly does for me. Here is a sneak peek on my next work:
Aura of the Avatar
------------------------------
"Sir, we are picking up something."
"Roger that, corporal, what is it."
"Going over the pictures that Hubble space telescope has snapped, we have visual comformation of one of the alien spacecraft, sir."
"How large?"
"A-a-about a quarter of the size of the moon, sir."
"Oh my god............." Just then I realized that this stupid conspiracy with the alien lifeforms was much more than just rumors in Sibera.........
-------------------------------
The Animorphs are still fighting. It has been another year, and there has been nothing but fighting undercover, never revealing their war and going public. But, when a U2 spycraft issued by the US flying over Russia discovers alien-like missile silos in Siberia, the government goes into shock to find proof of hostile alien lifeforms, much less any at all. They reveal it to the press, which causes widespread panic within the borders, and Russia soon finds out. They accuse the US of sending the U2 into Russia before sending several squadrons of MiGs into investigate the missile silo. What the squadrons reveal are shocking to the public, and to the Government. The worst is confirmed, and all-out war is imminent. Between the yeerks. And the human race.
Please vote on weather or not you would like this story to be written. If I get enough tallys, I'll write it for you. Until then, au revoir!
Guerrilla Ranks: Elite SS Operative, Veteran Swamp-Warrior
Dead. I was dead. Wait, I wasn't dead, was I? I couldn't be dead. Then how the heck would I be writing here and now? I've heard of aparitional manifestation, but I didn't feel any different. Other than my entire body ached with pain from the explosion, but it wasn't like anything ghost-like.
My senses came back to me about 5 minutes later after a long stage of temporary paralysis. My legs were burned to the third degree, and blood covered my arms. The oozing, sticky blood acted as somewhat of a glue mixed in with my feeble strength and my sweat to keep me from moving my arms. I could see to a decent extent, seeing as a sub-nuclear explosion had taken place, but a decreasingly loud ringing sounded into my ear.
My vision was a bit blurry, but I could see that I was next to a huge pile of rubble on the exterior of the complex. Several malfunctioning Tc3's spilled out gibberish that made my ears ring louder. No humans. How long had I been dead? Or, you know what I mean. And how the heck did I survive? It wasn't plausible, except for the possibility that I had manifested into a aparitional state of being, which I doubt I had. Strange world.
I started to get up, but gravity immediatly countered my body's attempts. Persistently trying again, I managed to sit-up, but my scorched legs couldn't bear any weight on them without terrible pain, yet. I rolled over to a pile of rubble and metal that was nearby.
"Okay, let's see here. Friction-less surface and a form of propulsion. Should be easy enough. Provided that the Tc3's are adaptable enough to have friction-less surfaces," I thought outloud.
Getting straight to work, I immediatly found a sheet of friction-less foil that could cover a larger piece of metal. Finding the metal, my hands got quickly to work on making a sort of "wheel chair". The foil was placed underneath the steel plate, and I used all my remaining strength to get on top of it.
I picked up an iron rod and started to push myself out of the little cave-like terrain I was in, kind of like a rowed oar boat. Except that just one push would be enough to propel me for miles, unless I turned it by crudely pushing the other way. It would work, in a mechanical sense, anyway.
I took a large push and immidiatly the oddly-shaped "wheel chair" flew off down the hill around the wall-less cave-like structure I was in. Hopefully I would get my legs back, but first things first.
***********************************
As told by the F/y 49 pilot, Lieutenant James "Bloodhound" Kirk
Beta Squadron Lead
"Lieutenant, report to the barracks immediatly. Commander's orders," a young field officer said to me. He had a glint of excitement in his eyes.
"Affirmitive. Return to your post and tell all the squadrons, including Elipson, to stay near their craft."
"Yes, sir," he said and ran off.
I started walking at a brisk pace through the hanger to the rather conspicuous quarters of Commander Winston. There were about 8 F/y's being repaired and the shouts of the engineers rang in my ear for quite some time. The door opened and Commander Winston was talking with the head Senate representive via holo.
"I must insist you go through with this, Commander."
"We have. Our forces have nearly taken Fairwinds already, although several resistence forces have uprisen. No trouble, however. The Col will be under the government's control within an hour."
"Wow, very impressive, Commander."
"I even impress myself. I'll tell you what happens from now on. End transmission," the commander concluded as the transmission was cut off. He turned to look me over and then spoke.
"Well, Lieutenant, nice to see you. Or should I say Beta Squadron lead."
"Nice to see you again, sir," I said. I had seen him once before when he personally promoted me to squadron lead and lieutenant in front of several other high-ranking officials.
"Yes, quite. I have called you here because Alpha Lead has told me that you had called off the air attack. Why is it?" He asked. It was more of a question than a demand because Commander Winston was a far calmer character than most.
"Sir, it is quite a long story, but since I am obliged to tell it, I will do so. When escorting Omega to their positions, Beta discovered that a super-cloaker was delivering air-raids on the Tc3's. I tallied up the angles of the descent of the missiles and found a rough vertex, perfect for me to run a Z-space scan and locate the craft. Inside where two, 10-year old SS-trainees piloting the craft by themselves," I began. For some reason, Commander Winston seemed indifferant to the startling fact.
"They contacted me and started telling me about the group that practiced the form of irregular guerrilla warfare that Fairwinds teaches about. It turns out that the group was a team of shape-shifters using an ancient andilite form of technology to do so in a biological standard. They aquired DNA through the skin of animals and from there they could exploit a fluctuating-bond between here and Z-space to slowly switch their DNA with that of an animal's. The group, named the Animorphs, consisted of 5 humans and an andilite about 400 years ago."
"Hmmm, I see your evidence, Lieutenant, however, of what are you trying to convince me?"
"Well, sir, according to the kids, the Animorphs fought off an enemy named the yeerks. The ye-"
"I know who the yeerks are, Lieutenant, and it's interesting that the group that we are trying to erase all traces of is made up of the soul saviors of the human race and planet Earth. Very interesting..." He said. This took me by surprise, because I had never heard about the yeerks before, but commanders know a LOT more than most military personel.
"That's my reason sir. And there is another thing you'd might like to know about them."
"Yes, what's that?"
"Well, sir, have you ever heard of quantum degeneration stage 2?" I asked.
"I've heard of it once, it's supposed to be impossible right?"
"No, sir, it's not impossible. You see, through this method, the Animorphs were accidently catapulted through time and they hit, guess where? Here. Now. And they are the ones that were the reptilian beasts that are dinosaurs, from planet Earth."
"I see, very interesting, Lieutenant. You've convinced me enough to pull out the Tc3's and stop the attack. We will deactiv-" The commander was cut off with an enourmous explosion that racketed the walls around us. It spilled his tea in front of me, and several pictures fell off the walls.
"It seems that someone already has, Lieutenant. Go fetch him and bring him to be. It might be one of the Animorphs, as you say."
"Yes sir."
"You are dismissed, Lieutenant Kirk," he said, giving me a quick salute which I returned as I jogged out of his quarters to get a chaingun. Already, maintanence crews were buisily fixing the damage that had been done to the hanger, which in fact was very little, if any.
I came around the corner to the main armory where I could equip myself with a chaingun to protect me in finding out who set off the explosion. Even though I was a squadron leader, I still wasn't that experienced in ground weapons and so I was kind of nervous taking the chaingun from the rack. I cocked the repeated fire function of the semi-rifle and started out towards the location of the explosion, chaingun leveled near my chest.
I walked around the debris-filled area for several minutes, while the disgusting smell of burnt titanium plates filled the air. Tc3 parts littered the area, and the caves had collapsed, leaving odd, no-walled structures in their place. I came to the bottom of a small hill that led up to an even more affected place when I saw him. Or it. I could not see what ever it was clearly, but it hid in the shadows.
Being the ambitious soul I am, I dared to contact it, "Hello, my name is Lieutenant James Kirk. Identify yourself."
The creature shrouded in darkness then spoke with a raspy voice, and very slowly. "Hello, Bloodhound. Nice to meet you."
BLOODHOUND?! How did the creature know my codename? Could it have been a Leeran? No, the Leerans weren't any where near here, and they prefered to spend their time underwater. Besides, the creature wasn't in the shape of one of the physcic, aquatic beings anyways.
"My name?" It continued in the slow raspy voice. "My name is Captain John "Condor" Leeroy of the Destroyer Nirvana. I have been the chief of N&E onboard the Utopia and an Elite SS Operative. You look surprised, no?" The captain asked. Yes, I did look surprised. Wasn't John Leeroy the name of one of the X-65a kid pilots? It was! But the kids were-, wait a second....
The shape of Condor emerged from the shadows showing a bruised face and a scorched body. His legs clearly suffered from third degree burns, and I doubt he would make it longer than 2 more hours without immediate medical attention. Fourtunatly, the medical wing of the base was in a special bunker, so little harm was done to it in the explosion.
My eyes drew attention to his tattered clothing that bore the insignia of a starship captain. He smiled weakly. "James Kirk, an experienced fighter pilot and soon-to-be commander of every human squadron known to man, or at least, in SOL-15. You are wondering how I know this?" I nodded. "First off, do you know about the Animorphs?" Recalling from the name that the kids had used, I nodded once more. "Well, the only way you should know is that John and Fred told you about the D2 effect, so I will tell you my side of the story.
"In approaximatly 15 years, the most destructive force ever known will be approaching all the human colonies. They are called the Sycthes, and they will release deadly biological weapons that will kill off most of our civilization. You and me and about 30 others from Mars will escape, and we wll hook up with every other known human in the sector and the surrounding ones. There might have been others, but we were the only living humans in SOL-15.
"We set up a base on Lapios, in the system YIN-12, and terraformed the planet, but an ancient race named the yeerks, you've heard of them, haven't you?" I nodded, "...came back from the past to attempt to destroy us. Another force brought the Animorphs to Lapios, and several battles were won before the yeerks used the D1 effect on us. We traveled to the Swamps of Joiren and Hiroshima, before they used an enormous amount of energy to throw us into the last stage of a D2 effect. My other companions, the Ruin of the Reign, are somewhere else, probably still in the D1 effect.
"Oh, and another thing. I can morph. Just like the Animorphs. We had recovered the remains of project bio-switch and perfected it using Morphine473 to deaden the pain. In fact I think I now have the strength to morph and get rid of the pain and the burns right now. Do you mind?" What the heck do you mean? Of course I wanted to see a person turn into a 100 million year-old reptilian beast!
"No sir, I don't mind."
Well, I soon later found out that I did start to mind that he was morphing a 50-foot crocodile from planet Earth. He started to morph when his skin slowly started turning a really deep-green, but then it started to crack apart, like a parched ground in the middle of a smoldering hot day. I yelled in fright but then he said, "Don't worry, this does me no pain."
He started to grow a tail that shot straight out behind him as his legs developed to suit the reptilian body of his. The weight forced him onto his front legs, while his head started to elongate into a large beak. Seemingly monofiliment-like teeth burst out from his gums and his shape changed fully reptile. But, that wasn't it. Condor was still the size of a human, and he had a lot of growing to do.
The crocodile simply bloated in size until it was a massive hulk of flesh. 50-feet long and poised, ready to strike. But I knew that it had the cerebral cortex of Condor, and most of the brain was his. He started to demorph in a fashion that was similar to the way he morphed, and within about a minute, he was standing fully erect without any injuries.
"Amazing, sir!" I blurted out.
"Don't call me sir. To where I'm going, you technically have a higher rank than me. Good luck. I'll see you as an older person back in the future, if it's at all possible."
"Yes, s-, I mean, Condor." He gave me a smile and jogged off past the ruins of the west wing of the base and behind a distant ridge. I waved him on, and started heading back to the eastern side of the military complex.
And so concludes my story. I know you shall hear Condor's, but this is the end for me. Au revoir!
************************
As told by the Captain of the destroyer Nirvana, John M. Leeroy of Mars
Guerrilla Ranks: Elite SS Operative, Veteran Swamp-Warrior
I gave Kirk a smile and jogged back to our little centralized spot on the back of the ridge. A battle won, and a lot of experience gained. All the yeerks got was a migraine from all the yelling their commander gave them because they lost. I would vow to turn that migraine into death, someday.
I returned to our base behind the ridge. Jake yelled at me, saying that he was in command, but I reminded him that he was not a good leader if he never saw the logic in what I was doing. In fact, I won the battle for you, I said, which shut him up right away. The quantum dust winds came and went, leaving me in my time and the Animorphs in theirs. The Reign of Ruin shared hundreds of stories, like the swamps of Joiren, the Urban Battles at Morraco, the Battle of Lingpopo fortress, Cheyrnobel, Valley of Tears, Sengir Wars, everything so exiting that we just couldn't keep still.
The D2 effect had changed things at well. Bloodhound and I sometimes talked secretly about each other's experiences at the Valley of Tears, which I always looked forward to doing with the senior officer. The yeerks had been thoroughly defeated by useage of the widespread knowledge of them and the Animorphs, and the population had increased to some extent.
That week, we moved out of our subterranian homes in the caves and started setting up colonies across the vast plains near the equator and the valuable diamond and iron mines near the poles. Eventually, after several months, we declared different nations, and both nations competed in a competitive, but friendly race to claim the most land on the planet. In the end, both Imporia and Mortae claimed about the same, but Mortae had control of the large diamond and iron mines to the north and some to the south. However, Imporia was quick to take advantage of their militarily desicive locations, and their military might surpassed Mortae in all respects.
Fourtunatly, both of the nations agreed to be ruled under one government with several representitives from each party. It would run like a senate, and as the countries grew in population, more legislative branches were formed to represent the smaller provinces.
All this took place in less than a year. I am the leader of the military council's guerrilla warfare and standardized warfare divisions, which make up two-thirds of the entire council. Pete Quin is the supreme commander of all the senate, but hasn't called himself a president quite yet. Jaguar is the leader of the air/space craft division of the council, and Incinerator is chief technician on our super-battleship, the Euphoria. Amazon has become our commanding biological warden, and had started to develop more advanced prototypes of the Pacjib for experience warriors to use. Buttons? He's actually turned out to be a half-decent friend working as a the chief engineer on the Eurporia.
I now look back on my experiences a year back. I remember the last words I said to Jake before traveling back on the timeline, "Comrade, we shall always fight. Never surrendering. Never yielding. Godspeed." I know that it was the last thing I would ever say, but sometimes I wondered. My spiritual family showed me it. It was beyond inevitable if that was so.
Someday. Somewhere. It didn't matter which.
I was to see them again.....
The End
A/N: Man, I really like my story. To all other authors, doesn't it just feel great wrapping up a very hard-worked masterpiece? Well, it certainly does for me. Here is a sneak peek on my next work:
Aura of the Avatar
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"Sir, we are picking up something."
"Roger that, corporal, what is it."
"Going over the pictures that Hubble space telescope has snapped, we have visual comformation of one of the alien spacecraft, sir."
"How large?"
"A-a-about a quarter of the size of the moon, sir."
"Oh my god............." Just then I realized that this stupid conspiracy with the alien lifeforms was much more than just rumors in Sibera.........
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The Animorphs are still fighting. It has been another year, and there has been nothing but fighting undercover, never revealing their war and going public. But, when a U2 spycraft issued by the US flying over Russia discovers alien-like missile silos in Siberia, the government goes into shock to find proof of hostile alien lifeforms, much less any at all. They reveal it to the press, which causes widespread panic within the borders, and Russia soon finds out. They accuse the US of sending the U2 into Russia before sending several squadrons of MiGs into investigate the missile silo. What the squadrons reveal are shocking to the public, and to the Government. The worst is confirmed, and all-out war is imminent. Between the yeerks. And the human race.
Please vote on weather or not you would like this story to be written. If I get enough tallys, I'll write it for you. Until then, au revoir!