BOOM!
I ran.
A dracon cannon had hit the front ranks of our little band, so I ran. Maybe for somewhere safe... safe from the cannons, at least.
I know an Andalite soldier is supposed to be brave and fierce and noble and righteous and all of those heroic traits that supposedly make the opposite sex swoon for you.
What good's sex appeal if you get killed?
I never did buy into the idea of sacrifice. I'm a war buff. Mostly about the Southern revolution. Now, sure, when you're picking up the information from a hologram, all of the stuff they idea sounds wonderful.
Of course, I was also into the psychological side of the wars. The Southern Revolution was much less cut-and-dry than you might think. Andalites up in arms against one another, just for the sake of money and taxes. Most of the Higher Class Andalites were beheadeded in percentages, but in numbers, more of the Lower Class Andalites were killed. Some for no more then to satisfy the crowd's incessant bloodlust. Like a sacrifice to an ancient god. That was 2000 years ago.
So why do I feel like some temple sacrifice now?
BOOM!
There! A crack in the ground! Off to the side, and hidden from Yeerk eyes by a small pile of the wounded dead. I jumped in.
Ahh!
Crack!
Ow! I cursed to myself as I felt my right foreleg, snapped in two. That did it. I was stuck here, with no way out except morphing.
WHA-KRACK!
I heard the cry of a Hork-Bajir Controller land in the crevice as well. It sounded like he had broken something, too. I stood still, hoping the fall knocked him out.
He slowly turned his head towards me.
"Ahh!"
Ahh! I tried to leap back, but found myself unable to. I landed on my rear.
The Yeerk drew his dracon beam. I quickly pulled out my shredder.
"Argh..." He winced as he clutched his arm. that must have been what he broke. I trained the shredder, readied, and—
Click.
I looked at my weapon in curiousity. Great. The focusing crystal was broken in the fall, too. I was as unarmed as he was— my tail slipped under some rocks when I leaped back, and now was stuck. He obviously couldn't attack, either, with his broken limbs.
Standoff, I realized. I began to look around the crevice. It was actually quite peaceful in here, away from the battle raging only a few yards away. Why are you still trying to fight?
"I'm a Yeerk and you're not."
Sounds stupid.
He looked up, just now realizing his surroundings. "Now it does." He smirked at me slightly. "So now what do we do?"
We wait. I said. I cannot climb up the steep wall, and you cannot either with that arm in the condition it is. We wait for either one of your soldiers or mine to come here and find us.
"Yes." He lied down, propping up his arm. "So, that's it? Just wait?"
Well... care to make a wager?
"A bet?" He sat up. "What would you even gamble with? And on what?"
On this battle. I smiled. We let them fight up there, and when the battle is over, whichever side wins gets the other for a captive. If the Yeerks win, I'm your prisoner. If the Andalites win, you're mine.
"I don't like gambling." He replied quickly.
You rather gamble it out up there? Odds are you'll get killed. At least this way, the worst that can happen is you get captured. I jeered at him. Don't have faith in your own regiment?
"Do you?"
A few of the soldiers, no. But I have to have faith in them. I would not be with them if I did not, now would I?
"I suppose." He looked at me, and then reached his one good arm out to shake mine. "Deal."
That bet is the one that cost me my freedom. Do I regret it? No. The Legends want you to believe that things always work out for the best. I don't know if this would apply, but maybe it does. Maybe... a few years from now... it will all work into whatever master plan is set...
I move forward, bound in energy ropes, hooves clanking against cold steel. The Hork-Bajir host whose Yeerk I bet against is waving at me from the cages, a grin on his face. He is free, for now. No doubt he will be passed onto another Yeerk.
I lean down, trying to remain passive, even as I know my new 'master' is penetrating. I try to remain optimistic about it... After all, It wasn't as though I was being passed onto one of Visser Three's assistants, or even a sub-visser. I knew who was going to control me.
Best bet I ever made, Joran. He said to me. Somehow, I knew I'd penetrated one shell of a soldier. Maybe I could do it again.
Same to you, Tares. I smile back at him.
This is our tale. This is our fight. This is our destiny.
Joran-Kalles-Orena/Tares 269
