Chapter Three

(Look, there she is.)

(Do you think it's really true?)

(I can't believe she's actually showing her face…)
The next day I walked to school with my head and tail held high, ignoring the stab of humiliation and rage I felt. My classmates didn't bother to hide their comments with private thought-speak. No doubt they were hoping to provoke me into confirming the rumors. No, not even the rumors – the facts. Everyone knew that it was true – no one ever doubted the Electorate's ruling.

The announcement had been worldwide, of course. The entire planet had been waiting anxiously for news on the Hork-Bajir world. The Electorate had released a live holographic report early that morning. I hadn't watched it at first. I didn't need to – I knew what it would say. If I had any doubt, my sisters shocked face when she emerged from the scoop told me well enough.

Eventually, however, my curiosity got the best of me, and I raced into the scoop to watch the announcement. I was alone as I watched, and I was grateful that no one had to endure my pained expression.

(After formal Electorate review, the war for planet RG-021578-4, home of the sentient species known as Hork-Bajir the following results have been documented.) The Andalite who was running the correspondent was not an Electorate member, of course. He was an old Andalite whose fur had mostly tanned. Long ago, when my parents were young, he had been a prominent warrior during the peace times -as odd as that sounds- and in his old age he had become a mediator between the Electorate and the People.

(The Yeerks have seized full control over the planet, destroying most of its ecosystem with a biological weapon known as a quantum virus.) I caught my breath at this. A quantum virus was one of the most deadly biological weapons known. It could be engineered to eradicate any species, and it was brutal and unstoppable.

(War-Prince and Commander Alloran-Semitur-Corass-) I stiffened excitedly at the sound of my fathers name (-made the decision to remove Andalite troops when he thought that the war was lost. He made this decision without Electorate consent and based solely on his own judgment. As a result, the Yeerks were afforded free reign over a still salvageable planet. As a result of his insubordination, War-Prince Alloran-Semitur-Corass is hereby disgraced.)

The old Andalite warrior continued to prattle on statistics and figures from the war, but I did not hear. All I could think about was that one word, said with such finality. Disgraced. There was nothing worse in the Andalite military hierarchy. Even aristh's were treated with more respect than the disgraced. My father would be lucky to ever see the inside of a ship again.

What was worse was the fact that I knew that wasn't the entire story. Even then, as young as I was and as naïve of the military as I was, I knew that warriors weren't disgraced for poor judgment. They were reprimanded, temporarily relieved from duty, or demoted. But disgraced? No. There was an underlying message in the broadcast. Something else had happened on the Hork-Bajir world. Something that the Electorate did not want the people to know about.

I had always idolized my father. It was an easy thing to do, since he was rarely around. Certainly I realized that he had faults, but I never experienced them. Mother used to tell me stories about when they were young together. She painted a picture of a young, free-spirited Andalite who loved to laugh. I had always given them about as much credence as fairy tales. My father's particular brand of perfection was that of a stone monument. He was often cold and untouchable – but never unkind. He would never knowingly sacrifice an entire species unless there was absolutely no other option.

I felt the first dredges of anger well up inside of me. My father had done the best he could. The Electorate hadn't been there – on a planet far from home, in the middle of a war. How could they say he had made the wrong decision? How could they predict what would have happened had the Andalite force stayed? The Electorate, I realized firmly, was wrong.

I did not voice this opinion, of course. To do so would get me in as much trouble as my father. However, I did seethe silently that entire day, ignoring the jabs of my classmates. Some of the more mature students gave me looks of sympathy. They too knew that there was more to the story than met the eye. I ignored them. I did not want pity, or mockery. I didn't care what my peers thought. I just wanted to fix it. To make the world see that my father was not a cruel man, ill-fitted to be a warrior. That his decisions were made in the best interest of everyone involved. I just wanted to make things right again.

That night there was little conversation. I was certain that mother and father were talking to one another privately, but I didn't try to intervene as I would have a day or two ago. I was lost in my own thoughts. I could go to the Electorate, prove to them that my dad was a good person, and they would admit their error. I would find a way to track down the Yeerks and capture one, only to have him admit in his dying moments that my father was innocent. I shook my head of these fantasies. That's all they were. Fantasy.

(Allora?) I realized that my father had been calling me. I looked up at him guiltily.

(Allora, would you and your sister please come with me?) He asked. We both nodded respectfully and followed him out of the scoop. The night was mild and breezy – a good night for running. I fought the urge to gallop away to my private spot, instead walking slowly behind my father, who kept his stalk eyes trained on Foresha and myself as he moved with the quiet dignity of his rank. There was only the slightest slouch in the way he carried himself to indicate the weight of his disgrace. I knew that it must be taking a much larger internal toll on him.

(Your mother does not think that you should have heard the announcement this morning.) Father said, breaking the silence at last.

(We would have found out at school.) I pointed out.

(Yes, that is what I told her. Jahar…she worries.) There was a trace of a smile in his thoughts, and he seemed to be lost in thought for a moment.

(Father?) Foresha prodded. My father sighed heavily and turned to face us. Standing there, with the moonlight falling on the contours of his body he seemed almost like one of the mythical gods of ancient Andalite religions. His blue fur gave off a metallic glow, and his gaze was penetrating. I shivered slightly, afraid of my father for the first time in my life. But then he spoke, and the illusion was broken by his soft tone.

(I want you children to know that I did everything I could to save the Hork-Bajir.) He began, (I know that the Electorate thinks I made a bad decision and…well, maybe I did, but regardless that decision did slow down the Yeerks.)

(But I thought -) I began, but my father held up a hand to silence me. Hadn't the Electorate said that my fathers decision had hastened the Yeerk attack, not slowed it?

(Sometimes you need to make difficult decisions in life. Now I hope that you never have to make the sorts of decisions that I have had to make, but I want you to make me a promise.)

(Yes, of course father.) Foresha said quickly, almost as eager for his approval as I was.

(I want you to promise me that you will never enter the military.) Alloran said.

(But females aren't even allowed in the military, father.) I protested. What a silly promise to make!

(Not now, they aren't.) Father agreed, (But in a war, sometimes you must put away your old values and make changes. It will not be long before we need more troops, and when we run out of young capable men, the Electorate will turn to the women.)

That thought chilled me to the bone. I had, of course, had my fantasies about fighting glorious battles against the Yeerks and ending the war once and for all. Every young Andalite did. But I had done it safely within the knowledge that I never would be faced with such a situation. I was female – my place was far from the battlefield. Would all of that change?

(Promise me. On your honor.) My father said, his main eyes felt as if they were boring into my very soul.

(Of course father.) Foresha said quickly.

(Allora?) Father prompted. I thought about my fantasies earlier that day – of killing the Yeerks who had caused my father such a disgrace. Of tearing them from their hosts as they screamed and squirmed, then standing proudly over their decimated bodies. Of being revered by the Electorate as my father was returned to his rightful place in the military hierarchy. Yeah, and one then wrong decision will turn you into a disgrace yourself. Lose you your honor.

(Yes father.) I said, putting aside my foolish fantasy, (I promise.)


A/N: Just so that everyone knows, yes I am aware that the Andalites are responsible for the quantum virus, not the Yeerks. But do you think the Electorate wants everyone to know that? It's easier to blame the enemy, don't you think?

Thanks for all the support so far, guys! I appreciate all of the criticism!