Aximili's Headache



You win a while, and then it's done –
Your little winning streak.
And summoned now to deal
With your invincible defeat,
You live your life as if it's real,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
From Leonard Cohen's "A Thousand Kisses Deep"

Aristh Nerlon-Imitar-Tanil could have found more amusing things to occupy his time with than running errands for the stern FO Menderash. But he knew better than to grumble; he was after all on the Intrepid, and like the other two arisths he was constantly having to restrain himself from leaping with excitement over that small but ever-so-significant fact. In any case, grumbling would probably not be appreciated, and he did not want to give them any reason to send him off the ship.
He shuddered at the thought and hurried ahead at a canter. The Captain's quarters; that was where he was heading. They were easy enough to find – the Intrepid had a simple design, and it was not the first time Nerlon had to rush down to find the legendary Captain-Prince. It would of course have been simpler to send a thought-speech call through the ship's internal communications, but FO Menderash was strictly allergic to arisths without duties; it was almost as if he had to invent tasks at the sight of an idle youngster, just for the sake of it. So if arisths was loitering around within easy reach the FO could be expected to send one to fetch the Captain, if the Captain was needed but not present – or anyone else that was needed but not present.
In this particular case, Nerlon did not mind being given a task. But he had minded when he, last week, had found himself ordered to scrub the walls of a side corridor.
Previous experience had taught Nerlon that the door to the Captain's quarters was always open, and if he had been sent down to fetch the Captain, he was of course allowed to enter.
This time, he found himself frowning at a closed door, surprise making him stop and consider. Captain-Prince Aximili would probably not mind if he came in – he had, after all, been sent to fetch him. Then again, a closed door was a clear sign that the Captain wanted some privacy. Then again, this was a ship, and the Captain had duties to attend to on the bridge; he could have his privacy later. Then again, Nerlon did not consider himself the right person to remind the Captain of that.
What was the worst thing that could happen? It was not like he would be dismissed from the Fleet for opening a door… although this was not just any door.
He finally made up his mind and simply sent a thought-speech call; Captain?
There was no response. Nerlon shifted his weight to another set of hooves and tried the call again. After the third time, he began having mental images of the FO, up on the bridge, growing more and more impatient, probably already practicing his thought-speech roars, his glares, and inventing suitable less-pleasant tasks for when Nerlon returned. Polishing the floors of the corridors with the closed lids of his stalk-eyes, for example. Or grazing off the bitter weeds in the grazing hall before they grew too numerous.
How weeds actually appeared in a grazing hall, in a space ship, was one of the universe's great mysteries. Nerlon secretly believed that they had been planted there on purpose, so that arisths could be threatened to have to graze them off. For otherwise, why not simply cut them off?
With another shudder, and the realisation that there was nothing else to do, Nerlon opened the door – to his relief, it was not locked – and stepped cautiously into the Captain's quarters.
He felt like a sneaking thief, and timidly called for the Captain-Prince one more time, just to be sure. When there was still no reply he gathered his courage and continued inside. He walked very silently, not sure why, but feeling nervous.
The quarters were divided into sections; each section had a door. They were all open – except one. After having glanced through the open doorways and made sure those rooms were empty, he went to the closed door. He opened that door, too; it was a simple sliding door, that you pushed aside, and he pushed it just far enough to be able to glance into the room.
The sight made him blanch and start to quiver, unable to move for a very long moment. He stared into the room with all four eyes.
Then, just as suddenly as he had frozen, he regained mobility and stepped hurriedly from the doorway, his hooves clopping dangerously loudly against the floor. He made his steps more silent as he made his way – quickly, oh so quickly – out of the Captain's quarters, and back up towards the bridge.

He had been dreaming of the Home World, of running on grass… running free, with the wind at his back and the skies clear and open above him. But suddenly he was no longer running on grass; he was in a small room, trapped in a dark cell, and just before he ran headfirst into the wall, he heard his hooves connect with cold metal. That sound woke him.
Aximili's eyes flew open and he raised his stalks again, letting them begin circling, angry with himself for nodding off to sleep.
Issetha was prodding at his fingers; he still held his hand in the water where she was swimming. He closed the hand gently about the Yeerk's small shape and raised her to his ear, waiting patiently as she made her way back into his head.
Much better, was the first thing she said, sighing with relief. And then, accusing; You fell asleep.
Only dozed off, Aximili murmured, embarrassed.
I told you you were tired, the Yeerk reminded him. You should have slept last night. But you always know best, don't you?
Too much was happening. I was needed on the bridge.
So instead you fall asleep now? I've been trying to get your attention for a long time, leefachir.
Sorry.
It's not that, said Issetha, now comforting. It's just that… what if you were needed on the bridge now, and someone came looking for you?
I would not worry about that, Aximili told her. I told Menderash that I did not want to be disturbed.
He would send someone, in an emergency, Issetha disagreed. She turned his main eyes towards the door, frowning mentally, and wondering; Wasn't that door closed?
I do not think so, said the Andalite. He moved his hand over to a console and drained the water Issetha had been swimming in, and then removed the force fields that had contained it. But we should head to the bridge.

Nerlon stumbled out of the drop shaft, and right into a warrior. The warrior leapt aside, scowling angrily, but Nerlon fell. He came quickly to his hooves and his main eyes scanned the bridge, found the First Officer, and noted with a sinking set of hearts that Menderash looked very angry.
But he dismissed the older Andalite's anger quickly, coming forwards, quickly, with a First Officer! First Officer, the Captain, he's –
He is not yet here, I see, interrupted Menderash angrily, frowning at the aristh. I sent you to fetch him!
Yes, agreed Nerlon, but, First Officer, he's –
Still not here, growled the FO. Do you have problems taking orders, aristh?!
Nerlon blinked rapidly with all four eyes, confused, afraid, and wondering what to do. Please, he tried again, shifting his weight to another set of hooves and back again, his tail flicking back and forth behind him. First Officer –
Stand straight! Keep still! snapped Menderash angrily. What causes this?! You are acting like a nervous, beaten child! The Fleet shall have none of it! He glared viciously at the aristh, who was still trying to get something said. Stand straight, I said! And SILENT until you are spoken to, or you shall regret it! Understood, aristh Nerlon?
Nerlon forced himself to stand still. He did not even notice how his hands, stalks and tail-blade were trembling.
Now, said Menderash, his tone somewhat less hostile, where is the Captain?
Nerlon thought he saw an opening to speak. The Captain? First Officer, he's –
I'll require no word from you except his location, interrupted Menderash. I repeat; where is the Captain?
His quarters, Nerlon said lowly.
Not anymore, came the Captain's voice from the drop shaft. Nerlon flinched forwards and spun around, eyes wide.
STAND STILL! roared Menderash, and the aristh resumed his at-attention stance, although he was still trembling. One stalk eye followed every movement the Captain made, as he swaggered up closer to the First Officer, and the aristh.
What is happening? asked the Captain.
The aristh is being childish and disobedient, FO Menderash said.
Menderash?
Yes, Captain?
Whatever talents you have, understanding the young is not among them, Captain Aximili told him dryly. The FO blinked once, but chose not to comment. The Captain continued; What is the problem?
The FO sent a short glance at the still-pale Nerlon. I sent the aristh down to your quarters to warn you that you were needed on the bridge, Captain, he said curtly. He returned alone.
The Captain grew tense, one stalk spinning towards Nerlon, but then the expression was gone. Did you enter my quarters, aristh? he asked lowly.
Nerlon kept his eyes aimed at the floor. N-no… no, Captain, he managed.
You simply called for me? wondered the Captain, now more nonchalant.
Yes, Captain, whispered the aristh, daring to glance up at the Captain's face. When he realised that his eyes had travelled to the Captain's forehead, as if trying to see through it, he quickly averted his gaze, clenching and unclenching his hands at his sides to keep them from shaking.
It was unimaginable.
It was impossible.
It was so wrong.
But Nerlon knew what he had seen. He trusted his eyes. He knew what he had seen, and his inner sight had seen nothing else ever since; the Yeerk. The Yeerk in the Captain's quarters, prodding at the Captain's hand, seeking his attention.
How did you call me? asked the Captain. By my title?
Nerlon gathered his courage. He was surprised to find that, yes, he did have courage to gather. He could even fuel it with determination. He was probably the only one who knew. He was probably the only one he could trust. Yes – by your title, Captain.
That explains it, said Captain Aximili. Menderash, the aristh has done nothing wrong. I was resting… I would not have woken when he called for me.
Menderash frowned. Nerlon's stalks travelled back and forth between the two, nervous. His courage had obviously – but unfortunately – been only temporary.
The Captain continued. I only newly became Captain – the call of my title does not wake me. Use my name the next time, aristh; that will wake me. You do know my name, I presume?
Nerlon bowed, trying not to tremble. Andalite-Controller. Andalite-Controller… on the Intrepid, and the Captain himself! It was impossible! It was wrong! He did not know where he even found the strength to speak. Yes, Captain – of course, Captain.
Captain Aximili smiled, but as soon as he turned away Nerlon threw aside what remained of his courage and fled for all his legs were worth. FO Menderash frowned after him, but the aristh neither noticed nor cared.

He was frightened, said Issetha in the back of Aximili's head. He diverted half his attention to her, and the other half to what Menderash was saying… something about traces of the Blade ship. The usual; vague signals and traces of metal atoms in space.
Who? he asked.
The aristh. He was scared. You could see it in his eyes… he was scared to death.
Aximili shuddered mentally. He said he did not enter our quarters.
I know, leefachir. But… what if he was lying?
That possibility, whispered Aximili, I do not even want to consider.
We must consider it.
Aximili thought. His FO had stopped speaking; the TO had taken over. He hoped they were not saying anything important, for he was no longer listening. If the aristh entered our quarters and saw… saw you, Issetha… then there would be nothing we could do. For the moment, there would be nothing he could do.
He might tell the officers.
And what would I do about it? snapped Aximili, fear turning into anger. Kill him? Eject the body into space? And if he has spoken to anyone, I would murder them, too? Theoretically, I could, of course… but it would not exactly help, Issetha.
We don't know, murmured Issetha, her tone now soothing, making Aximili want to close his eyes and forget everything but the sound of her voice. We don't know if he saw anything. But if he did, that would be…
…very dangerous to us, finished the Andalite. The Yeerk's touch on his mind was tender agreement. This time, he did close his eyes.
Captain? said the TO sharply, and Aximili's eyes flew open.
Yes? he wondered.
With all your respect, Captain, are you paying attention?
Aximili sighed. Of course. Continue.

Aristh Nerlon waited. He kept clear of the Captain – and of FO Menderash, just to be safe. After two days he got his reward; an opportunity. The communications cell was left unguarded.
After passing the initial terror, the following fear, Nerlon had begun thinking. He had at once drawn the conclusion that he could trust no-one on the Intrepid… not even the other arisths. He had to contact someone outside the limited world of the ship – someone in power.
High in power.
Theoretically, he needed a code to open the communication. A code he did not have, but that did not matter; he went around it. His father had designed the very type of program used for communication in the Fleet. Nerlon knew them like his own tail-blade.
He opened a channel leading to the Apex Level itself. He waited, nervous and impatient but – amazingly – not afraid, until his call was received.
This is Apex Level. State your name, rank, and whatever issue this concerns, said the Andalite who answered; a secretary.
I am aristh Nerlon-Imitar-Tanil, stationed on the Intrepid, began Nerlon – but was interrupted.
Who has authorized this communication? snapped the secretary.
I am acting on my own authority, revealed Nerlon, knowing that he had no authority.
Do not play games, aristh, sneered the older Andalite. You will at once –
There is a Yeerk on this ship, Nerlon blurted.
The words seemed magical – at least, their effect was magical. The secretary frowned, for a short while, perhaps sending or receiving thought-speech. Then his face was replaced by an older, sterner; a warrior's face. I am War Prince Tansol, drawled the new Andalite. What was it you said about Yeerks on the Intrepid?
Nerlon told his story, relieved to finally have a listener.

When they switched shifts on the bridge for the second time, Aximili retired to his quarters, telling the officer on duty that he could be called for if he was needed.
He had barely passed the door to his quarters and taken a few steps into the main hall when he heard the quiet voice in his head; Aximili, I think it's time.
The Andalite did not even have to ask what she meant. He only sighed, and in the privacy of his quarters, allowed himself the luxury of nodding in reply to his Yeerk.
One close call, the Yeerk continued. One. But that's one too many.
Yes.
Then you have a plan? Issetha whispered.
Of course, said Aximili.
Will it work?
I do not know.
Issetha touched his thoughts, to find out what he was planning.
We need to get to Earth, Aximili said in an explanatory matter. Earth, and Cassie. She is the only one who we can trust. She will help us find… find some way to live on Earth.
As humans?
If we must, gritted the Andalite, not liking the idea, but liking the alternatives less. Of course, there was always the possibility…
There are many places on Earth that are isolated, Issetha assured him. We would be perfectly safe.
Isolated, yes, but suited for Andalites?
How about the Hork-Bajir's valley? Issetha suggested. Yellowstone, was it?
Full of human activity, Aximili pointed out. He sighed. But that is a problem for after we reach Earth. First…
Issetha stirred, remembering his plan. We could simply leave the ship. Take a fighter and leave.
They would wonder why a fighter was leaving. They would follow. Aximili laughed dryly. A Captain, deserting? If nothing else, that will raise their suspicions.
So instead you make up a strange, complicated plan? Complicated plans have plenty of points where they can go wrong.
I plan to catch them unprepared. I plan to make things look as if I was only… missing in action. Lost. No-one will know the truth. And that is the way things must be.
Issetha thought for a moment. You'll have to abandon the Intrepid.
Yes, the Andalite said flatly.
Don't try to fool me, Aximili, you love this ship.
Aximili felt a wry smile creep over his face. The Yeerk still knew him all too well – but that was not necessarily a bad thing.
And moreover, you'll have to abandon your parents. They'll never even know what happened to you.
I know.
You might even have to abandon being Andalite.
Now her host was silent.
Issetha sighed heavily. I'm sorry for this, leefachir.
I've made my choices, growled Aximili, hating to hear Issetha use that tone. I've made them myself. And I shall keep to them – don't you dare think this is your fault. Don't you dare. It's no-one's fault. It will not be a fault unless we think it wrong. And, Issetha, you are not allowed to think this is wrong, either.
I won't, the Yeerk promised softly.
Aximili nodded again, once, closed his eyes and tried to drown his insecurities in the reassuring presence of the Yeerk. There was much to think about, many plans to be made. But they would wait until later.

War Prince Tansol stood in thought for some time after he had ended the call from the aristh, ordering the youngster to keep a low profile, keep to his ordinary tasks, and report back in another day.
Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill, a Controller?
It seemed unimaginable.
The brother of the great Elfangor, a traitor?
It seemed impossible.
But, Tansol reminded himself, that would be the thoughts of the People. He himself had helped build up Elfangor's image to that of a hero. The People needed heroes. Elfangor had been perfect. His reputation was spotless.
Tansol was only glad that the People remained unaware of some of the finer parts in that specific great hero's story.
Aximili had grown into his own hero's role without as much help from media and discreet rumours coming from Apex Level. He, too, was a hero. It was unthinkable for him to be a Controller – a voluntary Controller.
And of course, Tansol mused, the fact that it was unthinkable was what had let it go on for so long. No-one would have expected it. No-one would have suspected, even if there had been signs…
And there must have been. There always were signs.
Now, it seemed the young Prince Aximili had committed a cardinal error. It was almost a shame. Tansol did not like it. He was almost sad to hear about it.
He trusted the young aristh. He could see true fear, true abhorrence in the youngster's eyes. The words rang true, and his story was detailed, too detailed to be made up.
Why make something like that up to begin with, even? It was a serious accusation. The aristh knew this – he would not dare lie.
Tansol did not like it.
A hero of the People, infested.
This required discretion. It was best if the People never found out. They needed their heroes. And by exposing Aximili's treason, even the memory of Elfangor would be stained.
That could not be allowed. Not with the Fleet already being downsized, already losing influence. A scandal like that could cost the Fleet its credibility, and crush it.
Apex Level would fall from power, collapse like someone hit with a shredder.
No. Let the People keep their heroes; let them believe Aximili was one.
Of course, the Prince had to be disposed of, and quickly. An infested Captain? It could not be allowed, at whatever cost.
Moreover, if the aristh had found the Captain's secret, someone else would, sooner or later. Word would spread to the People, and all would be ruined. But Tansol smiled; the good reputation of Prince Aximili could have been ruined many times over already. He had defied the Fleet – of course, the People would side with him, against the Fleet, on that one. But something the People would find harder to accept is that he had been part of a group that lost an escafil device to the Blade ship.
That escafil device was not often spoken of, and then only in hushed voices. The voices were almost nonexistent by the time they came down to actually blaming Aximili.
But this definitely won the price. Infested… voluntary, according to the aristh. How could that even happen? It was intriguing.
And now it was high time to put the Andalite-Controller back in his place. In fact, why not correct two mistakes at the same time?
A plan began forming in Tansol's mind. So far it was only shadows, unclear fragments without details, but Tansol knew the right Andalite for the job of perfecting it.
War Prince Caysath! he bellowed.



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Author's Note;

I know Caysath is a Prince, not a War Prince, in #54. Well, let's say he pretends to be a Prince then, and really is a War Prince. Makes things simpler if he's a War Prince.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I was feeling a bit glum that morning after posting, but took one look at those wonderful little reviews and felt a lot better. Glad people liked the Forlay-is-mad part. Liked writing it. And it is actually based on a mother.

Moreover, will now be gone one month or more, so you'll have to wait for the next one. There are two or three chapters left. Depending on how melodramatic I'm feeling.

Oh, and to those of you who don't want me to kill off Issetha and Aximili, I'm sorry, cause I will. More or less. This is tied to the books, and Aximili's fate is being a prisoner of the One, and the best I can make out of it is leaving him (and Issetha) still aware but trapped. That's not a good idea. Too sad. Better to have them either unaware, in some sort of coma, or dead. Which of those two the ending is, I leave for you to interpret as you wish. I can't make up my mind, so it's more or less open for debate, just as the exact fate of KAA's Ax at the end of #54 is more or less open for debate.