Chapter Two

Chapter Two

"I've been working on trying to understand it, but having no body and barely any mind essence at all, it's been very hard. How would one go about finding their psionic potential?"

"Psionic potential depends completely on the mindit's a focusing point that you have to discoverjust like a fulcrum."

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We didn't leave the fighter for three days, discussing what we might be able to do. The documents had opened up numerous opportunities for us, but one thing was clear, we had to get the Farlan.

Apparently, the Farlan were a race of slugs; similar in looks, but much, much smaller than the Yeerks. The one bad apple, known to the Yeerks as the Creator, was the one who brought them into the world. Geigher was the one who spawned the very first Yeerks, who then split off to create a race that now controlled most of Earth and the entire world of Farla. Geigher had intended to go back and face Seerow, using his Yeerk war-bred creations to destroy the Andalites, but after a surprising battle in the underground labs, Geigher and the other twelve of his geneticists were killed.

"But the important thing is, the Farlan still live, and we can still find a way to rescue them," Leepo pointed out, after the third groggy day being in the fighter. I nodded, but then, realizing this, began by saying, But wait, why would the Yeerks not entirely wipe out the Farlan? Why would they keep them as hostages?

Tassax, who had been silent through all of this, lifted a clawed hand and spoke.

"What is the one thing a Yeerk or Farlan wishes for? Life. Sight. Smell. Touch. The ability to be more than what they are. Imprisoning the Farlan from the Gedds is a punishment worse than death, for these species anyway. And if it hasn't crossed your mind yet, Geigher hadn't brainwashed his creations to be merciless killers, did he? No. He wanted to take control to Farlan, and highlighted in his plans was Capture all Free Farlan,' not Kill them.' "

I took the information in, and replied, Then the Yeerks must need them around for something. But what puzzles me is why they killed off their creators.

Tassax stood up, looking back at me, his green eyes brightening, "Even you Andalites don't want to be controlled, that's the one thing you're afraid of. It's the one thing all races are afraid of. Being controlled. The Farlan who spawned the Yeerks posed a frightening threat to them. Of course they would take down the opposition, and then, to mask their fear, control entire peoples! Exactly what they did to the Hork-Bajir, to the Taxxons, and now to the humans. The fear of being controlled is buried deep within the hollows of their brains. Why did Geigher spend nights with his face glued to those tubes? To brainwash them. A million times over he must have muttered, Destroy the Andalites.' So the Yeerks aim to do that, and in fear of being controlled by you, they've spread their empire, and tried to take over Earth."

Tassax stood still for a moment. "Look, please remember that myself and my peoplewe are nuetral in this matter. Our goal, the one we make money off ofis to keep one side from totally obliterating the other. I know you may never consider peacebut I urge you to try." His eyes shifted downward. "Please notify me if anything new happens, we are here to help you, but not to kill off the Yeerks."

The first of us to leave was Tassax, and so his hologram shimmered away, and Leepo stood there, thinking, until, he too, disappeared into thin air. I read over the documents one last time, then fell into a sleep that lasted only for a matter of hours, when an alert of battle woke me.

The battle was over Albia, and a small group of Union Cargo Frigates were being torn apart by Yeerk Bug Fighters and Confederate Fighters. I was urged to stay far from the battle, and let the Cargo Frigates jump to Z-Space. I pleaded for us to send reinforcements, but Commander Srintraxx denied me the power to do so. The Commander was smart, so I took his final word as a good one. So I trotted out to New Antioch to observe the new buildings, and to enjoy the fresh air, after being cooped up in the fighter for so long.

The town didn't even seem to notice war, and it made me feel like a small child, when the Yeerk threat was very small, and before I was sent away to become an Aristh and train for battle in the Dome Ships. I remembered the Homeworld, and although, it saddened me, I didn't let the tears flow. This was my new home now, Platta, a peaceful resistance planet far from Yeerk control, and out of reach of the Confederates. The sky was turning gray as the first rains began to fall since I had arrived on the planet, but still construction continued. For refuge, I huddled under one of the onnings. A few Kandastan were sitting on a bench looking at me.

Hello, I murmured to them, watching the raindrops fall with my main eyes.

"Hey, you're War Prince Spalose, aren't you?" one of them inquired, sipping a drink he held. I looked over, then down, noticing that since I had attended a meeting of the War-Princes, my ceremonial sash was still on. The Kandastan laughed.

Yes, that's me. I replied. The rain began to slow up, and as sun broke through, I stood up and walked out into the mud, feeling the warm rays on my back and the cooler wind whipping past my body. The neutralizing temperature gave me a shiver.

"I hear these are the first signs of a huge battle to come," Rhazori said, as I entered the fighter, tired out and ready to sleep. I looked up at him, plugged into the terminal again, scanning the nets and picking up any radar or information from the enemy sides as possible.

Really? Who do you hear this from? I asked, plopping myself down on the grass growing beneath my hooves on the floor of the fighter. Rhazori's digital face appeared on the screen.

"Tassax," he said back, the face shaping into a Sstram head. I shuddered at the grotesque mandibles, quivering with the speech. Then, all too suddenly, Tassax's real voice chimed in, almost comically.

"And what's wrong with my mandibles, Spalose? Ha ha ha." I smirked, knowing that Tassax was standing right behind me, his hologram casting a shadow down upon me. I turned to face him, sighing a little.

Nothing's wrongso what's up? I asked, stretching out my arms, and leaning on the wall of the fighter.

"You said it yourself, we have to get the Farlan. What better way to do that then to take them?" he smiled. Another scary thing about the Sstram - the way they smile.

For a moment, I didn't believe him. You want to directly plunge yourself into the heart of the Yeerk Empire, guarded a million times over? Here, I have a better idea, why don't we just throw ourselves into a blender? That would have the same effect!

Tassax let out another laugh. It reminded me of the time I first encountered him, on the Sstram War Ship Rampage. Although the incident had been wiped from my memory, he later re-called it to me.

"No no no, Spalose, why go in ourselves, if we can pay highly trained professionals to do it instead?" he remarked.

Alright, and where are we going to find these highly trained professionals?

"I thought you'd never ask!" Tassax exclaimed. Withing seconds, I felt a jolt of some sort of wave run down my spine, and my vision blurred. When I was able to see again, I was sitting in a completely white room, at the head of a table. On each side, two my surprise, was a Hork-Bajir and a Taxxon. Both of them looked at me. Leepo and Tassax stood at the other end of the table.

Woah, what happened here? I questioned. The Taxxon and the Hork-Bajir both looked at Leepo.

"Spalose, we've figured out a way to get the Farlan, and without blood shed," Leepo said. Tassax smiled as if he was pleased to hear no blood shed.'

Alright, explain then.

Tassax floated above the table and then gestured to the two aliens sitting on both sides of the table. "These two, though it maybe hard to believe, are two of our best stealth mercenary pilots."

I almost jumped, astounded that a Taxxon could be smart, even able to control a Sstram fighter. As if he heard me, the Taxxon spoke out, in thought-speech.

War-Prince Spalose. Andalite leader, do not take me as a brainless centipede. There's actually a long story about me and my friend across the table.

This sudden intellectuality coming from a Taxxon blew my mind. From what I knew about their race, they were controlled by a hive mind.' The Hork-Bajir took his turn, standing up and walking towards me, to make around of the table as he said, "Glophaz and I here, we were POWs back in Earth year 1997. After our Yeerks were removed, we were somehow, well, its hard to believe, upgraded among the Sstram. They knew our fighter handling potential, and so they helped by resizing Glophaz's brain and helping me learn the ways of stealth. Our positions in the Sstram OuterSphere skyrocketed, and so we've been called here to help you. In exchange, we ask of something."

Leepo continued, "I have what they want, and if we pay these two pilots, they can go into the Yeerk Homewor—Farla, literally undetected, pack up the penned Farlan, and bring them to Platta for refuge. Because you're the head of our group, I ask your permission."

Was this plausable? Almost instantaneously I said yes.

What do they want in return? I managed to ask.

"We're really partial to a special psionic crystal that grows on one of the Kandastan planets. We're asking for, oh300 tons." The Hork-Bajir chimed in. I turned to Leepo.

And you're willing to abide by this? I asked him. He nodded to me, while Tassax settled on the ground next to me. I extended both my hands. Alright, deal. When do you think it will be happening? The two let go of my hands after a firm shake, and with smiles on their faces, replied, "Sooner than you think."