Chapter Five
Chapter Five
"The Yeerks are backing off,
and the psi crystal is in your people's hands, nursing it
back to health. Now all that's left is to save the burning
ball of granite we call Albia."
"Tassax isn't too happy.
The many deaths that have happened are disappointing him.
Hopefully, peace can be restored."
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The Yeerk fleet had been wiped
out. And though I can't say we didn't suffer any
casualties, the Yeerks lost everything, and with their defeat,
also came their victory. They had burned and scarred our
Homeworld.
With nothing to do at the moment,
I sulked in my fighter, grieving for the so many deaths of the
Confederacy. They were still our people, and now most of them
were dead.
Rhazori scuttled up behind me,
tapping at my hoof.
"Spalose, a message for you
on the terminal."
I turned around and walked over,
looking into the eyes of the War-King of the Confederacy, still
alive, and saddened. Beaten. Defeated. With all four of his eyes
cast down, he said, We would like to establish peace, and
whole the Andalite Empire that has been torn up.
I nodded to him. I felt no threat
or danger from this high officer. The Confederacy was no threat
to us. We had saved them from genocide, and sheltered their
remaining fleet, while still keeping a close eye on them.
I accept. A treaty will be
written tomorrow, and we can meet on your Royal Dome Ship. Rest
well. I replied. And now that they had no planet for
resources or shelter, we had to feel a little pity towards them.
Tassax appeared behind me, looking
a little broken.
"That battlecould
have decided the fate of this warand I admire your honor
for your Homeworld. But sadly, I feel bad for both sides. The
Yeerks suffered heavy loss. They sent in their entire fleet, in
order to wipe out the Confederacy, and they were destroyed. And
to you, your race is dying, too. But I propose a solution. Shall
we talk about it?" he asked.
Come to the signing of the
peace treaty tomorrow. The War-King will be honored to see you
and Leepo both. Finally, the Andalite Empire will be mended, and
there will we talk about our plans for the future. I said,
curling up in the corner of my fighter, and getting the first
sleep I could, in the last 3 days of that battle.
Our entire fleet, gone.
Destroyed. No match for both Andalites forces, the Sstram, and
the Kandastan. We had gone into the battle expecting to destroy
the traitorous Confederacy, but only ended up burning the
Andalite planet. In a way, it was victory, and in a way, it was
defeat.
Visser Three has disappeared.
The next morning, Tassax, Leepo,
Rhazori, and I shuttled ourselves towards the War-King's
Dome Ship. It was slaughtered halfway down, its engines amputated
by the Yeerk attack, and the Dome Was closed off, being shattered
at the top. Its some 1,000,000 troops were crammed in the
quarters and into smaller Z-Space vessels we had provided. We
knew before we stepped on the Dome Ship that the all around
attitude would be frightened, irritated, and depressing.
We stepped out of the shuttle and
into the corridor leading from the landing bay to the bridge.
Immediately all was quiet as I entered the bridge first. My
attire consisted of my ceremonial sash, embroidered with a few
awards, including the War-Prince medal. Tattered Andalite
soldiers and civilians alike stared on, both at me, and my alien
companions following.
I turned to the nearest general,
asking where I could find the War-King. They pointed to an
elevator, which led to the King's chambers. We proceeded.
Once inside, Leepo leaned against the wall and said, "What
an eventful last week, eh?"
The car stopped and we got out,
heading to the only hatch in front of us. It opened quickly,
where the War-Prince was sitting alone, looking out a view port
at Platta beneath us.
Greetings War-King
Fezzernoff. I said, breaking the silence.
He wasn't startled, having
seen our reflection in the glass all too well. I placed a piece
of paper in front of him, handing a pen out. The War-King smiled.
I'm glad that our Empire
will finally be one again. he said, quickly signing it.
Tassax and Leepo signed it also, as did I, lastly.
Then, by locking our tail blades
together, we sealed the treaty. From there on, we may not have
been a huge Republic, having lost almost 32 billion lives, but
the point is, at least were a Republic again.