Rebellion - Arbron

I stood alone on a sort of dais overlooking the massive central cavern of the Taxxons' underground home. Well, to be frank, calling it a dais was probably being generous; it was little more than a mound of hard-packed dirt and soil that had been piled up for the purpose of making announcements.

All around the dais, innumerable Taxxons shifted around restlessly, making an eerie whistling noise that somehow conveyed an air of great anticipation. It made me nervous just to stand there, what with that unusual sound.

Alright, I'll be honest - it made me very nervous.

Suddenly, the whistling sounds stopped. The Taxxons as one turned to face the dais, their glowing red eyes all swiveling to point in my direction.

((IT IS TIME, ARBRON. YOU MAY SPEAK TO THEM NOW.))

Drawing in a deep breath, I spoke up in the slurring mouth-sounds of the Taxxon language. The Taxxons all stood in place attentively, some nodding every now and then. I elaborated on the detailed plan that I had drawn up alongside the Living Hive, and they were all soon whistling and hissing again, some even clacking their pincers in excitement.

One thousand Taxxons was what we needed. One thousand Taxxon volunteers to swarm the space port and launch a surprise attack on the Yeerks. To try and retake that one space port, and commandeer all of the spacecraft there. With the stolen spacecraft, we could then proceed to slag the other space ports on the Taxxon planet, and hence regain the freedom that had been given to the Yeerks in exchange for food.

I knew that such a plan was most probably suicidal. It was very probably going to fail. But yet, seeing how willingly the Taxxons were all eating it all up, I myself began to feel some hope blossom in what had been a desolate field of skepticism.

Within ten minutes of concluding my little speech, I had two times as many volunteers as I would have needed. But the Living Hive had been very explicit in its orders - no more than a thousand Taxxons were to be recruited for this little rebellion of ours. It would still need the rest to maintain order in the Hive, after the thousand had left for the battle of the space port.

The volunteers were selected quickly, and soon enough, they had started to assemble at the long tunnels that would take them to the Yeerk space port. All of them stood in lines, strangely docile and well-behaved.

I ran through the plans for the fight once again in my mind; hit the Yeerks hard and fast, and while they were still reeling from the shock, board and fly the spacecraft. Given the Hive's mental command over them, all of the fighting Taxxons would be just as capable of flying a Bug Fighter as I was.

As I walked past the lines of assembled Taxxons, I admired some aspects of the Taxxon anatomy that I had never realized before. Bodies without bones that couldn't be squashed easily by tunnel cave-ins. Legs spread out widely for optimum stability of a fluid-filled, unstable torso that tended to be thrown around quite a bit during the occasional earthquake. Eyes that couldn't see well in daylight, but which could detect even the smallest traces of movement in dimly-illuminated areas.

From my point of view as a former Andalite that had specialized somewhat in exo-datalogy, the Taxxon physique was actually an extremely well adapted form, considering their natural environment. Add in their superior reflexes - surprisingly fast for invertebrates - and you had an organism that was pretty impressive, solely from a physical point of view. If I was to ever design a machine for excavation purposes, I would most likely design it based on the Taxxon's body shape.

But when you considered their eternal hunger, everything that was impressive about them thus far was overshadowed. While their hunger had been useful and tolerable under the Living Hive's control, it had become monstrous on its own.

For the first time ever, I pitied a species for achieving sentience, for being sentient was the very thing that had distanced them from the Living Hive's guidance and control. Being able to think freely had enabled the Taxxons to willfully ignore the Hive's commands, and of course, with only their appetites to lead them... Freedom would have seemed like a small price to pay in the short run.

Being able to think freely was nothing compared to being able to live freely, after all.

((ARBRON,)) the Living Hive spoke to me, in its booming voice, ((HE IS HERE.))

((Elfangor?))

((I DON'T OFTEN SEE ANDALITES IN THE WILDERNESS HERE, SO I AM ASSUMING HE IS THE ONE.))

((Very well, then.))

I scuttled off towards the tunnels that led to the Skrit Na fighter, to meet up with Elfangor.

Like it or not, he would be joining our little rebellion, and as a friend - maybe former friend - of his, I had one last request to make of him.

"... gimme, gimme, gimme the honky-tonk blues!" screeched the primitive electronic speaker installed in the obscenely yellow thing that Elfangor had driven into the Living Hive's central chambers.

I saw him, standing daintily behind the steering wheel of the machine, which was probably a vehicle of sorts, given the four wheels it sported on its sides. For a few seconds, he reeled as if he had been given a massive blow to his head, and I realized that the Living Hive was probably speaking to him.

((IS THE THE CREATURE?))

Deciding to spare Elfangor the torment, I answered the question, ((Yes. That's him. He is called Elfangor.))

I walked up to him, and he swiveled his stalk eyes to look at me, while his main eyes took in the sights around him. Poor thing, he was probably scared witless by what he saw.

((Arbron?))

((Yes, Elfangor. It's me.))

((I was afraid you were dead.))

I bit back the wave of emotions that threatened to overcome myself upon hearing those words, and managed to give him a suitably calm reply, ((I wanted to be. But I am still alive. Alive to serve the Living Hive.))

((The what?))

I gestured towards the busy area behind me, ((The Living Hive. Light of the Taxxons. Mother and Father of the Taxxons. The Hive has lost many of its children to the Yeerks. But the Living Hive is still the Mother and Father of the species.))

((Arbron, what are you talking about? Have they done something to you?)) he asked in response, the disbelief evident in his voice. I laughed, and for that one moment, I felt almost as if I were back on board the StarSword again, joking around with an Andalite friend or several.

((Have they done something to me? Well, they didn't eat me, if that's what you mean. The Taxxons who found us after we crashed wanted to eat us both. But I gave them the Skrit instead. I had no choice! And then the Living Hive learned what I was. It drew me here.))

((We're hundreds of miles from where we landed. How did you get here? You couldn't possibly have walked.))

I sighed, and walked closer to him, ((The Living Hive's tunnels extend across thousands of miles, Elfangor. There is suction in the tunnels. A Taxxon has only to fold back its legs, and the pressure draws it swiftly down the tunnel, as the Hive commands.))

I had a lot of explaining to do, it seemed. And sure enough, within the next five seconds, he had another question for me.

No, Elfangor.

My own words ran through my mind as I powered up the Bug Fighter's engines and weapons.

Tell them I died in battle. Let them remember me the way I used to be, okay?

After the Jahar had taken off with Sub-Visser Seven as a prisoner, all the free Taxxons who had been playing dead or pretending to be defeated had rallied back with a surprise second strike at their Yeerk captors. Even Hork Bajir were no match for a furious Taxxon when caught off-guard, and now, we had successfully boarded sixteen Bug Fighters.

Out of the one thousand Taxxons that had taken part in the attack, only fifty-four remained alive, myself included. And all of us were in those sixteen Bug Fighters, ready to inflict some damage on the Yeerks.

I don't want them to remember me like this. I don't want them picturing me this way.

The Bug Fighter lifted-off the ground, and the Yeerks down below were too panicked to try and shoot us down. But we couldn't afford to waste any time - they still had that Pool Ship dry-docked just several hundred meters away, and it could easily shut us down with an override command.

((All Taxxons, fly for the Pool Ship! Strafe the ground beneath us, and take everything in our way out!))

Affirmative hisses and whistles came over the communications airwaves, and the other fifteen Bug Fighter followed my lead, flying towards the bloated, spider-like ship, twin Dracon beams firing and slagging everything in our paths. Gedds, Hork Bajir, and even Taxxons ran around in a blind panic, trying to get out of the line of fire.

Suddenly, one of the Bug Fighters that had flown ahead of me stopped in mid-air, the one behind it colliding into it. The two of them exploded in a massive fireball, which the other fighters narrowly avoided.

For a moment, I was bewildered, but regained my senses enough to realize what had happened - the Pool Ship! Those Yeerks on board must have beamed an override code out at the fighters! Fortunately for us, dry-docked ships usually don't have their shields raised.

Usually, that is.

((Target the Pool Ship's bridge!)) I commanded, ((The ovoid lump sticking out between the two damaged legs!))

One of my captured Bug Fighters rushed forward, and fired repeatedly at point-blank range at the Pool Ship's bridge. The unshielded bridge burst into flame, and even as the lucky fighter was flying back towards our group, explosions rocked the Pool Ship, shaking it on its already unsteady, damaged legs. With a series of further, progressively louder explosions, the massive ship collapsed in onto the dry-dock's temporary scaffolding and machinery.

((Deal with the rest of the space port, now!)) I shouted, even as the Pool Ship was disintegrated in a fiery explosion that took out another of my Bug Fighters. I gnashed my Taxxon teeth in frustration - not even halfway done here, and nearly a fifth of my ships were gone already!

TSEEEWWW!!!

BOOOMMM!!! One more of my captured Bug Fighters exploded into a ball of flame as the ground-based Dracon cannon fired at it.

TSEEEW! TSEEEW! TSEEEW! Three more shots managed to disable the weapons on one fighter, and destabilize the propulsion of another. One of my fighters took out the cannon emplacement with several well-aimed shots, but it was too late for that one destabilized fighter.

((Damaged fighter, can you still steer?)) I called out to the Taxxon pilot of the fighter whose engines had been damaged.

"Sreeee... Hiiisss!!!"

I cursed silently, then sent a final message to the doomed fighter, ((Crash the fighter into the control center. If they shoot you, just stay on course as much as possible.))

For a few torturous moments, I thought the pilot would disobey my orders. But he pointed his fighter's nose at the control center up ahead, and boosted all power to his engines.

((We need to get out of here, now!)) I yelled, ((To the second space port!))

As we wheeled about and flew away from the smoking, damaged space port, the fighter finally impacted on the control center. The explosion was colossal, sending debris flying high up into the air, and leveling almost every building that was within a fifty-meter radius.

It was our first victory over the Yeerks, and it felt good.

((TO THE SECOND SPACE PORT!)) commanded the Living Hive, its thunderous voice seemingly making the very hulls of our fighters vibrate, ((AND TO FREEDOM!!!))