Alloran did no such thing. I cannot have a weak, cowardly fool like you messing up -

Alloran's stalk eyes caught a glimpse of movement, not very fast by the standards of his people, but unexpected enough that it didn't have to be.

***

Sub-Visser Seven grinned. Now was his chance! Elfangor and the murderer Alloran were both distracted by what was apparently an argument between the two of them, judging by the fact that Alloran's tail blade was at Elfangor's throat.

The Sub-Visser didn't much care about the Andalites' stupid little personality conflict, but it did give him the time he needed to attack. He had decided that there was no point in taking a juvenile host like Elfangor, when he could have one that was in its physical prime.

Chapman, his host, was just eager to get back at the Andalites for dragging him this far from his home. Sub-Visser Seven made a note to give Chapman to one of his more loyal and intelligent lieutenants. Chapman was a shrewd and calculating human; it was best not to waste such talents.

***

Elfangor saw the human male smack Alloran on the right side of his head. The fingers on his hand were wrapped around each other in such a way that the hand itself could be used as a rather effective bludgeon. Alloran's head snapped back, but from surprise rather than from actual pain, and Elfangor took that moment to slap the War-Prince's head with the flat of his tail blade.

The insane War-Prince fell to the ground, unconscious. Chapman grinned. Elfangor would later recall this moment when he realized what had happened, but for now he went over to the emergency medical kit that was stored on the bridge. Taking out a hypo that contained a powerful sedative.

Elfangor emptied the hypo into Alloran's bloodstream, knowing now that the older Andalite would not wake up until the sedative wore off. It would take hours before that would happen, Elfangor knew.

"Now what?" Chapman asked, calm despite recent events.

Now what?! Now what? I just knocked out my own Prince! Elfangor shouted, on the verge of panicking.

Shaking, still in shock, Elfangor knew that he couldn't just lay down and give up. Even if he was as much of a fool as Alloran had insisted, he was now the only one who could get them off this cursed planet.

We have to pick something up first, Elfangor struggled to remain as calm as he could while making this declaration. Then we are getting as far from this evil place as this ship can carry us!

Chapman nodded. Loren came up to him and put her hands on Elfangor's chest wound. It had been starting to scab over, but the exertion of knocking Alloran unconscious had torn it open again. Loren tore off a strip from the bottom of her shirt and used it to bandage the wound.

"Is life always this crazy for you space cadets?" she asked wryly.

Oh, yes, Elfangor chuckled bitterly. Infiltrate the Taxxon homeworld, help inspire a Taxxon civil war, locate the legendary Time Matrix, mutiny against my Prince… all in the company of a pair of two-legged, tailess aliens. Business as usual.

Loren laughed, and Elfangor felt a little bit better.

"Hey, you made a joke. I didn't think you did humor, Elfangor."

When the world goes mad, what else can you do? he turned to gaze out the forward viewscreen, his expression one of introspection. I wonder if Arbron knew the world was mad?

"Speaking of crazy," Loren went on with a sad sort of smile. "Did I really see you driving a bright yellow Mustang back there?"

It was a wonderful machine. Primitive, but strangely enjoyable.

"Guys, no matter what planet you come from, you're all the same," Loren said with weary affection.

Elfangor decided not to comment on that, instead focusing on the ship. He cut thrust and watched the ground rise slowly up to meet them.

There it is. We're going down. I need to clear away the wreckage so that the tractor beam can latch on to the Time Matrix.

Elfangor landed the ship away from the scattered debris, in a narrow valley that bordered the spaceport on its left side. Elfangor grabbed one of the ship's complement of handheld Shredders, then dashed out the open hatch. It took him about fifteen minutes to burn away the shrapnel and wreckage covering the Time Matrix.

When he finally had it uncovered, Elfangor let himself relax. It was lucky that Chapman hadn't told them about it when they had captured him. And it was lucky that Loren hadn't told them anything when they were probably interrogating her. And it was also lucky that the humans had managed to get back to the Jahar, even in the midst of a full-scale Taxxon assault.

Lucky. Too lucky.

I really am a fool! Elfangor berated himself.

Elfangor shivered, knowing suddenly what was waiting for him inside the Jahar. Elfangor was hidden behind the Time Matrix, out of sight of anyone who might be looking out of the ship's hatch. Elfangor quickly reset his Shredder to stun.

Three quick shots, that was what he would need. Yes. Three.

Elfangor came out from behind the Time Matrix, running so as to present a more difficult target. Loren fired a Dracon beam at him, but his sudden turn made her miss. He did not miss, and Loren dropped to the ground, twitching like she'd just been badly shocked. Chapman was the next to try and shoot him, but he was unsteady from the ordeal that he had just gone through.

The Dracon beam missed by more than a foot, and Elfangor was easily able to stun the former Human-Controller. There was one more shot he had to make, and Elfangor had the awful feeling that he was running out of time. Elfangor caught a sudden glimpse of fast movement, just to his far left.

He fired again, but not quickly enough to incapacitate his new enemy. His new enemy, the former War-Prince Alloran, now Sub-Visser Seven. He did manage to stun the Andalite-Controller's arm, though, and the Dracon beam that the Yeerk had been holding went clattering to the rubble-strewn ground.

Very good, Elfangor, the Sub-Visser said, sounding almost like Alloran had when he had been talking about destroying the Yeerk transport ship. As if this was all one monumental joke. It took you awhile, but you figured it out at last.

Sub-Visser Seven.

Of course. But not for much longer, I think. After all, I'm the first one to take an Andalite as my host. I'd say I can count on a major promotion, wouldn't you? the Sub-Visser said, and laughed.