A/N: Sorry for the delay since the last chapter, life is quite busy at the moment. Hope you enjoy.


The newspaper office was on the second level of a narrow building, on a side street close to the centre of town. Ascending the steep stairs from street level, Carla entered a small lobby, Jasmine not far behind her. A busy-looking receptionist was tapping away at a keyboard behind a curved desk, and a row of chairs were arranged along the opposite wall, with an adjoining window that looked down into the street.

Carla glanced sideways at Jasmine, who was hesitating, looking anxiously across at the desk. Sighing internally, Carla began to cross the room: she could already tell she was going to have to do most of the talking today, a task she wasn't best pleased about. Approaching the receptionist, who was still typing even though she must have heard them approach, Carla interrupted her with a bold 'hi', and gave their names.

"We've got an interview, with Ms Adams," Carla finished, noting that the other woman still hadn't so much as hinted at a smile.

"I'll call her," the woman said shortly. "Wait over there," she added after a moment, gesturing to the chairs.

"Thank you so much," Jasmine murmured quietly.

"Thanks," Carla muttered, more reluctant than Jasmine. The woman's tone had been pretty rude. Carla was sure she'd never greeted a customer like that, even on her worst days.

A few seconds later, the two of them were sitting awkwardly at the side of the room, waiting. Carla crossed her arms across her chest defensively, looking ahead with a deadpan expression on her face. Beside her, Jasmine shifted from one position to another, fiddling with a bracelet on her wrist, seemingly unable to sit still.

"I'm so nervous," Jasmine admitted eventually. "I've never done anything like this before."

Carla tried not to let her impatience show. "Neither have I. Not exactly a common thing to do, is it: tell the world you want to take a Yeerk on, and let on you were a voluntary, to boot. People don't react well."

The bracelet on Jasmine's arm turned a little faster. "Elsa said it would be anonymous," she said haltingly, the pitch of her voice rising.

"It'd better be," Carla muttered darkly. She still wasn't sure she could trust Elsa. Jasmine, on the other hand, seemed to like, even admire her, something that made Carla very uncomfortable.

Jasmine fell silent for a few minutes, Carla watching the clock tick round towards their appointed time as her stomach churned with nerves.

Eventually, the secretary called over to them, without even looking in their direction. "You can go in now." She gestured to the door behind her. "First door on the left."

Jasmine jumped to her feet immediately. "Thank you," she said again, looking back towards Carla, who rose more slowly. The receptionist's attitude didn't give her much confidence in how this meeting was likely to go down, and she was reluctant to hurry to it.

They were left to make their own way through the door next to the receptionist's desk and into the narrow hallway beyond. Jasmine hesitated when she reached the door to the office, glancing back again towards Carla.

"I'll knock, then," Carla muttered impatiently, ignoring the hurt look on Jasmine's face. She knew she'd feel guilty later, but there just wasn't time for it now.

It seemed as though the rap Carla's fist made on the door was unnaturally loud, though that was probably just her own imagination.

"Come in." The voice was young, and neutral in tone, giving them no further idea what to expect.

Carla turned the handle, and stepped into the reporter's office, Jasmine following close behind. Ms Adams sat behind a small desk, two straight-backed chairs arranged in front of it, facing it directly. Still tapping away at the keyboard in front of her, Ms Adams gestured at the chairs, and the two of them crossed the room, sitting where she had indicated.

After a few more moments of typing, the woman behind the desk turned to face them. Her features were sharp, her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail behind her head. The smile she gave them was fleeting and false as she reached for the voice recorder on her desk and turned it on. She read the date and their names into it, along with a couple of identifying numbers, then set it down between them and looked at the two of them.

"You don't mind if I record the interview?" she asked briskly.

Carla shrugged, and Jasmine shook her head.

"So," she began, her expression still a blank, "you want Yeerks to be permitted to infest people?"

Jasmine nodded.

"Yeah," Carla crossed her arms across her chest. "Not all of them are able to morph, and some of them don't want to. It's not a great solution, really: it means some of them are trapped in the Pool, and they can't talk to their family, their friends, even their..." Carla trailed off for a moment, unsure how to translate 'mates' in a way that didn't sound like she was talking about some animal on a nature show. "Their loved ones."

"You think infestation would be a better solution? Even after a war fought to prevent exactly that?"

Carla hesitated. She clearly had to word her response carefully: if she'd been in any doubt that the reporter had an agenda, she was sure by now. Half of her wanted just to get up and walk out of the room now, but she hadn't come all this way just to quit. Beside her, Jasmine was shifting restlessly about on her chair, pulling at her necklace in a way that made an irritating clicking sound, which didn't help her concentration.

"I don't think the war was about preventing infestation," Carla began slowly. "It was stopping unwilling infestation. Our campaign is for Yeerks to be allowed to take only willing hosts. Obviously."

"And you were willing hosts yourselves during the war, weren't you?" The reporter tapped a few lines into her computer as she spoke, her tone cold and disapproving.

Carla hesitated, glancing towards the door, then across at Jasmine. Jasmine's eyes made similar movements, both clearly thinking the same thing.

"You were, weren't you? That's the information I have," Ms Adams pressed. Returning her gaze to the reporter, Carla saw she was looking up from the computer screen, finally, her eyes boring into them aggressively.

Reluctantly, Carla nodded. Jasmine murmured a 'yes', her voice quiet as a breath of light wind.

Ms Adams nodded, looking satisfied. "Of course, in the war the Yeerks can hardly have been said to be interested in taking only willing hosts. How do you justify collaborating with them when they enslaved so many others?"

Carla froze. She heard Jasmine draw in her breath beside her, as though stung.

There was a long silence, broken only by the tapping of Ms Adams' keyboard. Carla didn't like that she was writing when they weren't even saying anything, who knew what she was putting down, but she didn't dare speak, either.

"I repeat, how do you justify yourselves?" she repeated, after a minute or so, pausing in her typing to look directly at them.

Carla couldn't answer. After a moment, Jasmine said softly: "Not all the Yeerks are the same."

"Your Yeerk was part of the so-called peace movement?"

Jasmine paused again. Carla felt Jasmine's eyes on her, as though expecting Carla to help her out of that particular bind, but Carla couldn't speak. She was struggling to keep flashes of memory at bay, and had no energy to spare for Jasmine.

"No," Jasmine murmured eventually. "I didn't mean that. I only meant... some of the Yeerks were very uncomfortable with what the Empire did, as well. They... joining the peace movement was very dangerous..."

At Ms Adam's continued cool stare, Jasmine's words faltered and died away.

"Uncomfortable or not, do you not agree that by supporting your Yeerks you were indirectly supporting the Empire and all it did?"

At her words, Carla's mind flashed back several years.

She was walking away from the pier, towards the voluntary area. The Hork-Bajir that flanked her was not particularly talkative, and despite herself, Carla found her eyes wandering over to the cages, as though drawn there by a force beyond her control.

As she watched, a girl who appeared strangely familiar was thrown harshly into a cage by an unpleasant-looking guard. Her body hit the stone floor with some force, surely bruising, and it was a second before she scrambled to her feet and darted for the door. By that time, of course, it had been thrown shut by the guard, clanging as the metal locked itself. The girl threw herself against the bars anyway, defiance written in every line of her features except her eyes, which held a deep, biting despair.

Suddenly, her brown eyes met Carla's across the cavern, narrowing with puzzlement then widening in recognition. The suspicion that had been growing in Carla's mind as she watched her was confirmed: those eyes had last been looking at her arrogantly, directed by the Yeerk who had reprimanded Silrin for showing distress as her host had been dragged, kicking and screaming, down the pier. Carla didn't have to search her mind to remember Elsa's name, and she flushed, realising the girl must now know she served the Empire willingly, if she hadn't known it before.

Before Carla could see what Elsa would do with their eye contact, however, the guard beside her took her arm, and she realised she'd stopped walking.

"Come," the Yeerk said softly, but with an insistent pressure against her arm that told her the order could not be resisted.

"Don't you agree?" Ms Adams insisted, more forcefully, snapping Carla out of the memory.

"No," Carla snapped.

"But surely by willingly serving your Yeerks, you-"

"I mean no, we're not doing this interview a second longer," Carla said forcefully, getting to her feet. "Come on, Jasmine, let's go."

"But... the campaign. They asked us to do this... shouldn't we stay?" Jasmine protested weakly.

"This woman isn't going to write a single positive thing about the campaign," Carla snapped. "Even if she eventually starts to ask us about it, instead of what we did in the war, she'll twist everything we say."

"That's quite an accusation," Ms Adams said, smiling calmly. "Is that perhaps your own guilt speaking?"

Carla scowled at her, resisting the temptation to swear. "I'm going, Jasmine. You can stay if you want, but nothing good'll come of it, I'm telling you now."

Jasmine hesitated, but only for a moment. "No... no, I'll come," she said quickly, seeming afraid of staying on her own. She looked at Ms Adams apologetically. "Thank you for your time."

Ms Adams merely nodded.


Once they were back out on the sunny street, Jasmine reached into her bag, taking out a small, old-fashioned cell phone.

"Shall I call Akhir to pick us up?" Jasmine asked hesitantly.

Carla nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Jasmine hadn't been much help in there, and she was really beginning to annoy her. Carla was tempted to walk away right there, but Akhir, who had recently gotten her driver's licence, had agreed to take them there and back. A bus would take at least half an hour longer and run the risk of bumping into someone who recognised her, so Carla opted to put up with the irritation a bit longer and wait for the lift.

"Tamli," Jasmine murmured affectionately, her cell phone now to her ear. "We're done now... I know it's earlier than we thought, but can you pick us up?"

There was a short silence, presumably as Akhir replied.

"No, no, we're fine, don't worry. It wasn't quite how we expected, but we're not hurt."

"Thank you," Jasmine murmured, again after a few moments had passed. "Yes, we'll wait there. See you soon." She smiled then, softly. "Love you too."

Carla felt sick at the sugary tone of Jasmine's voice. It was hardly Jasmine's fault, but listening to her and Akhir interact had not got any easier. The expressions of love were a particular pain: Silrin had never dared say anything like that under the Empire, although she must have known that Carla's feelings tended that way, and Carla wondered whether Silrin had felt that way for her, but never been brave enough to mention it. In the post-war world, perhaps...

Jasmine's voice cut off Carla's stream of thought. "We'd better walk round to the car park where they dropped us off," she said quietly. "They're going to come now."

Carla nodded, following as Jasmine set off down the sun-warmed tarmac of the sidewalk. After a few minutes walk, they reached a small car park, hiding itself behind a collection of small buildings and stores. Carla heaved her body up onto a small brick wall near the edge of the car park, letting her legs dangle as she waited, silently. Jasmine glanced at her once or twice, but seemed to decide not to start a conversation, or else be too shy to do so, as not a sound passed her lips either.

They weren't kept waiting long: the Yeerks couldn't have gone far away, not that Carla would have expected them to. Alniss had been so anxious that Carla had thought twice about going in for Alniss' sake as well as her own: she wished now she'd chosen not to, it had been anxiety for, she was sure, no gain. Akhir's tiny, ancient car pulled up close to them: it was a bit battered and scratched, but Akhir had apparently got it for a bargain price. Its age was less of an obstacle than it might have been: Geltrin, Akhir's friend, had been a Bug Fighter engineer in the war, and an old car like this was rather simpler to keep running.

Looking through the window, Carla could see Alniss in the back seat, and hastened to join her. The Yeerk turned a worried gaze on her, and reached out to touch her shoulder.

"Was it very bad?" Alniss asked concernedly.

Carla shrugged. "She had an agenda. I figured it was time we got out of there: she's not gonna say anything good about us or the campaign."

"But she was OK with you? She was kind to you?"

"She was pretty rude, and some of her questions were downright nasty. She clearly hates us," Carla replied. "But it's nothing I can't handle."

Akhir hadn't yet begun to drive away: instead, she was turned round in her seat, her eyes flicking between Jasmine, beside her in the front, and Carla. She smiled hesitantly at Carla. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "I wish things had gone better for you. You've both been very brave to go at all."

"We brought you some coffee," Alniss said softly. "And cake. We thought you deserved it."

Carla noticed Jasmine was already nibbling at a pastry. Alniss passed her a take-out cup and a slice of red velvet cake: it wasn't as moist as the one Alniss made, but it tasted lovely nevertheless. "Thanks." She smiled at Alniss, gratitude filling her as she took a sip of the cup: her favourite frothy cappuccino.

"It's what you want?" Alniss asked uncertainly. "I wasn't sure..."

Carla leant over, hugging her friend rather than responding in words. She stayed there for a few moments: Alniss' touch was calming, and she was more emotional than she'd realised.

After a few minutes, she pulled away and looked towards the front of the car, where Akhir and Jasmine were hugging too, Akhir running her fingers slowly through her host's long hair. The sight made Carla's misery and frustration come flooding back, and she snapped before she thought it through.

"Aren't you going to drive us home? I could have gotten the bus by now."

Jasmine jumped slightly. Akhir turned her head to look at Carla without releasing her host. "I'm sorry. You and Jasmine both seemed as though you needed a moment."

"I want to go home," Carla repeated, though with less force.

"Of course," Akhir said gently, slowly uncurling her arms from Jasmine. "Unless you want to talk things through? I can't drive and talk at the same time yet, not safely anyway."

Before Carla could tell her that she just wanted to get home, Jasmine piped up. "I... Akhir, I'm just worried about what I tell Elsa. We... we weren't supposed to walk out... she might be angry."

"I doubt that very much," Akhir said gently. "Or at least I doubt she'll be angry with either of you. The reporter who interviewed you, maybe."

"She should have set things up better, then, shouldn't she?" Alniss muttered venomously. "She should have checked they weren't going to-"

"Oh, I'm sure she did everything she could," Jasmine cut in. "She wouldn't have wanted it to go wrong for us. No, it's our fault."

"Speak for yourself," Carla muttered, unable to help herself any longer. The mention of Elsa was threatening to bring back the memory that had haunted her in the interview, and she was willing to do just about anything to shut Jasmine up and get home. "You're very talkative all of a sudden. Might have helped if you'd actually said something in there instead of leaving me to do everything."

Alniss jumped a little. "Carla!" she exclaimed.

Jasmine flushed, looking down at her lap and instantly quiet. For a few moments, Carla almost felt guilty, until she saw Akhir's hand quietly snake onto Jasmine's shoulder, and the jealousy she felt eclipsed her better emotions.

"I think you're probably both right. They could have set things up better, though if my memory serves me correctly it was Alma who set up this interview, not Elsa. And maybe the journalist herself is at fault? Maybe even both of you might have been able to do things better, with the benefit of hindsight." Akhir said softly.

Jasmine nodded silently.

"I don't see what we could have done," Carla muttered. "I told you, the woman had an agenda."

"I'm sure she did," Akhir continued gently. "That will have been rather difficult for both of you, I imagine, and I think you both cope with that very differently. Neither way is better than the other. But," at this, her voice became harder again, and she turned round in her seat to fix Carla with a glare, "if you use that tone towards Jasmine again you are not welcome in my car. Understood?"

Carla nodded shortly, not trusting herself to speak. After a few seconds, Akhir started the car and they drove away in silence.