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."
---------------------------
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."