Tlokr. The very name was spat in disgust by the few that remembered the Yeerk. Others had no idea who she [adopting the feminine gender] was, and just didn't care. The low ranking, barely-above-scum Yeerk had been serving around a main pool on with a Taxxon host. It was, without a doubt, the worst thing imaginable to her. The Taxxon, whom did not acknowledge itself by any name, was one of the few unwilling hosts of its kind. Yet, with her area of work, hot bodies were scarce, and the body was not to be wasted. What exactly was her occupation? Stationed at the Taxxon home world, Tlokr was one of the numerous destined to live lowly lives, given the uneventful and degrading job of patrolling the deserts. Obviously nothing was going to land in those dusty regions, but the Empire would not have their people appear to be doing nothing. This work was saved for the meek, and the petty criminals. It was a punishment. So what had Tlokr done to earn her fate? Once, so long ago she attempted to 'steal' a Hork-bajir host. In the pool, in her natural state, she had made the mistake trying to infest the creature. Luckily enough, she had retreated in time to make it appear an accident. Still, she was banished to that ungodly place, but fortunate enough to escape any harsher punishment.

As the years progressed, Tlokr longed for a better host. This one…these damn Taxxons and their hunger, it was sickening. And it's constant cries and cursing. At the most inopportune times it would rise up, trying to regain control. Theses instances were always when around her superiors, and though Tlokr could handle it better than most, it prevented her from leaving this place. The only way out was to go up in rank, and this disgusting thing was holding her back. To try to run away would be madness; a Yeerk could not survive for more than three days in that hostile wilderness. And before she would die of starvation, the Empire would surely track her down. As an example to other would-be deserters. Tlokr hated patience, and had little tolerance for those that labeled it a virtue. All she could do was wait, wait for her day to come. And that it did.

Finally, Tlokr was summoned to the office of the ruling Sub-Vissor of this division. He inhabited the body of a male Hork-bajir. Or no…right at this moment, the beast was strapped to the edge of a portable pool. A standard issue model, so he wouldn't have to go battle the crowds at the main pool. And that's when the idea, the crazy, beautiful, perfect idea with all its flaws, came to her. And she knew, it was now or never. There would never be this opportunity again.

Stored Memory Proctol:

You, beast. If you can help me get that body, I'll set you free. Into your homeland. You can return to your hive. The creature did not know how to answer, but I had its attention. Oh yes, yes I did. I will be in my natural state, as you know, when I leave you. Do not kill me. If you do, you will in turn, be killed. No. You will be enslaved once more, worse than death, don't you believe? Yes once more, it did believe that. It wondered how it could trust me. Yet it knew, that I was not one to lie. I guess you really can't. But these are your choices, kill me, and be a slave, or let me set you free. With that, I moved to the pool, rose the Taxxon's gaping mouth, and fished out the Sub-Vissor. He had already been halfway into his host. Ripping him out, somehow managing not to damage the Hork-bajir, the Sub-Vissor was easily ingested. No going back now. No, now there was definitely no going back. Soon I found myself pressing into the Hork-bajir, for a moment I was exposed, and then dark, reassuring safety. So the Taxxon hadn't killed me.

This is a simple statement of my history; I will not delve deeply into this newfound bliss. The passiveness of the species (it was so dim-witted!), its poor sight still better than the Taxxons, all this was a blessing to me. It did not even know that its race had once been free—that's how cowed into submission it was. And, and this was the most liberating of all: no hunger. Sure, a twinge of the sensation, but not that cannibalistic urge that I was so accustomed to. A quick scan of memories showed exactly what I wanted to see. The former Sub-Vissor had been the 'head-honcho' around here. I could get away with anything. I stepped out into the bright sunlight, with the Taxxon at my heels. There was an agreement. It would not act out of turn, and it would live. We boarded a small craft, designed for parties of at most, 3 Taxxons. It wasn't built for space flight, a simple patrol mobile. It was the most convenient mode of transportation available that held a portable pool. And that was all it took, so close to freedom.

Passing over the vast desert, it would only be a short matter of time before I was hunted down. I knew this, but I couldn't help but feel free. Flying a mere four feet above sand and dust, I was shocked to see some sort of ship in the distance. I landed, and turned to my companion, the Taxxon. It was being so very obedient, and something about the way it followed me, listened, I knew its tiny brain held some idea of devotion, yet still that same hatred. And I couldn't keep from laughing to myself. It actually thought that I might be a kind soul, an understanding soul.

A creature that stupid deserves to die, I tell you.

It didn't take much to enter the craft, it seemed to be have been completely shut down. Strange. Didn't look like it had crashed… That's when it clicked. Being part of a patrol unit, this was one of the ships I was sent to keep an eye out for. The ovallish, rounded exterior…it was an Andalite ship. Upon entry, a billow of smoke pushed out. It took my eyes a while to adjust to the cool, dark room inside. There was the soothing, amazing sensation of grass under my taloned feet. Once more I looked back, and the Taxxon had taken off, was scuttling across the desert, fast as it's needle legs could carry it. Probably off to it's hive. And at the control panel, the most beautiful sight in the world.

A female Andalite, sprawled, limp, head and arms laid against the panel. I could hardly believe my eyes. After securing the fine host, as I was now determined that it would be mine, I tried to start up the ship. I've always been fairly good with spacecraft, alien or not. This thing could handle space flight, and as far as I saw, the only problem was a minimal one. When in landing sequence, small portions of exhaust would leak into the ship. This was the only real problem as far as my studies went. Shortly after powering up the ship, and becoming more familiar with its controls, the Andalite began to stir. It opened its main eyes, but there was a hollow tint to then.

Instead of that brute, lovely anger and arrogance…there seemed to be no life left in the creature. Not once did it attempt thought speech. It did not struggle, and there wasn't even the mere lift of that tail-blade. It was unnerving, how despondent the creature was. Slowly I crossed the room to it, and knelt down. There wasn't any bleeding, and none of its bones were broken. Odd, its lack of fight. Raising my own bladed wrist, I cut open the Hork-bajir's throat. At once, its blood began to rush out, and I was driven by all instincts, to flee its brain. With the last of its strength, I pressed to the fair beasts ear canal, and found myself once more, switching hosts. Before I was completely settled in this new body, the Hork-bajir died.

A stunning discovery. This Andalite's mind was scrambled. The lack of oxygen had induced brain damage. This would make it a prime host, but I found myself disappointed. Memories were distorted, and there were no tales of its home world. No useful information, certainly nothing to redeem my former deeds. Yes, even if I did appeal to the counsel, I may not be killed, but my host would be taken from me. I couldn't have that. So much power… There was only one clear word that I could depict of in this wasted mind.

Earth.

And, of course, any Yeerk worth his Kandrona rays knew what was happening on Earth.

Opening the main hatch, it was simple enough, driving the land patrol craft directly into the ship. Cursing the fact that I had disabled my Hork-bajir host, it took a fair length of time taking the portable Kandrona out of its place, and storing it safely on the Andalite ship. Grunting with the effort of weak arms, I shoved the bladed, scaly body onto the craft, and flew it back off. I engaged automatic flight, and sent the dead body on its way, buzzing across the desert.

Once that was taken care of I lifted off, activated stealth. Flying over the rough terrain, I prepared to leave this planet for good, when I saw something moving ahead, hurrying: a lone Taxxon. With my new talent, thought speech, I booted up the weapons. It was so simple, and well, didn't one need to cover ones tracks? Yes, I knew that this creature was of no threat to me. Not now. And still, I could not help myself.

With one hit it was over. There was nothing but a scorch mark left on the open desert. I had granted it its freedom. I did not say it would be allowed to enjoy that freedom for long. And with this I set off for that tiny planet, Earth. The Empire knew nothing of the foreign ship that landed on the Taxxon soil. They in fact, had little interest at all in the case, and let it slip by.

:Stored Memory Proctol