Author's Note: This has been in the works for a long time. It's really a personal story, and it's going to end up very long. I'm transcribing it more for myself than for others, so if you don't like it, criticism via review is welcome, but I'm not going to make many alterations. If you catch any major mistakes, or have any questions, I'd like to hear about it.

Disclaimer: This is K.A. Applegate's world. I'm just playing in it.

(I think I found it!) I exclaimed involuntarily, looking up from the microscope for the first time in hours.

(Found what?) Feiranel-Semitur-Lusathi asked scathingly, which, I suppose is reasonable considering I'd just brought her intense meditation to an abrupt end.

(The last exon,) I explained.

(Are you still working on that thing, Scout Alcolrec?) Feiranel asked contemptuously. That thing, she called it. That thing would someday be the toast of the Andalite military. Or so I vehemently hoped.

(It will be invaluable to the Fleet,) I retorted, with more confidence than I felt.

(Morphing is an obsolete technology. Even you scouts rarely make use of it,) Like many warriors, Feiranel came off as being too proud, though some would call it arrogance. Why would she be interested in morphing technology? She had never made use of it. Modern warfare had evolved to the point that the ability to assume other forms was useless next to the damage that could be caused by a shredder. Especically the bulky, powerful shredder Feiranel kept by her side at all times.

(Because of its flaws. Which are remedied by my design.) Once it is completed; if I can complete it, I added silently.

(You are wasting your time, Scout Alcolrec.)

(Perhaps. But this has been a long journey.) A very long journey.

(Which is coming to its end. We should reach Earth's orbit in... 8 hours. Wrap it up Scout, it's time to work.) She rose to her feet and approached the operations console.

My name is Alcolrec-Sharnicar-Taguara. I am an Andalite scout. My squadron was sent to your planet to establish the extent of the Yeerk invasion, and to locate the headquarters of the Yeerk high command. You see, the Yeerk invasion of your planet has already begun. We are not sure why they have chosen your planet, but all indicators point to Earth as the site of the next major Yeerk invasion. And we cannot let them win more ground. They are already too powerful.

We left the Dome ship Centhoneb as six units of five Model-16 fighters. Each unit was assigned to one of the inhabited continents of Earth. Each fighter contained one scout, and one warrior for protection, or "babysitting," as the warriors were known to term it. We had twenty days to reach Earth, and twenty for reconnaissance, with fifteen to make it back to main bulk of the Fleet in the Girylbel System. Sounds simple.

Not really. First, our scout fighters are older models, and incredibly unreliable. We were already 12 hours behind schedule. Second, my companion for the trip was Feiranel, a prickly female at best. I had known her from youth training, by some odd coincidence. Both of our father's had been minor princes in the Hork-Bajir wars. We were both training to be warriors. Part of her contempt for me stemmed from the fact that I had dropped out of the academy. Well, not exactly dropped out. I had resigned, because I wanted to focus on science. When my father came back he was outraged, but it was too late for me to go back. After my punishment, we compromised. I would train to be a scout, and my free time would be my own. So I became a scout, well versed in the ways of reconnaissance and camouflage. By the time my training ended I found that I liked it. My training opened me up to a world of new places and ideas, far beyond the typical narrow Andalite rhetoric. No other soldier has quite the same background in interplanetary politics, customs, and philosophies.

This did not stop Feiranel from looking down her nose at me. I was an excellent scout, but I had dropped out of warrior training years ago, and this, at least to her, made me inferior.

Feiranel had her own private shame, and it rankled her that I was aware of it. Her uncle was War-Prince Alloran, and the Semitur family was disgraced by both his actions on the Hork-Bajir homeworld and his subsequent infestation by a Yeerk, making him the only Andalite controller in existence. Her family's disgrace was known all over our homeworld, as she was only too aware. Perhaps this venture to another world was a welcome respite to her, but it was nearly impossible to tell.

I had figured on spending the bulk of the travel time working on my project, the improved Escafil-Alcolrec Device. The old Escafil device is a palm-sized cube that is capable of giving Andalites the ability to absorb the DNA of members of Kingdom Animalia, and morph into that animal. A wonderful invention that symbolized the Andalite civilization at the height of it's power, providing a highly scientific new form of art and recreation. And war. Few Andalite warriors used this technology, stating truthfully that few things in the universe are as dangerous as a trained Andalite warrior and his tail blade. Many opted to be equipped with this capability in the name of preparation, nevertheless, but a significant percentage scornfully disdained the use of this "outdated" and "useless" military technology. Scouts, however, found it useful in espionage, reconnaissance, and concealment.

The morphing technology has its drawbacks. Only two Earth hours can be spent in morph before it is impossible to change back. The process of morphing takes anywhere between two to four of your minutes, which can be an incredible liability in a fight or flight situation. And of course, consecutive morphs are impossible, meaning that the wearer must return to their natural form before assuming another, all of which drains the body's energy. The old Escafil device had been around for years, and no one had been of yet able to improve the design.

My "Escafil-Alcolrec Device" promised to change all that, if I could straighten out the theory on which it was based. I wanted to use exons, the "junk" sections of all natural DNA. You see, most creatures use only 5-10% of their own DNA strands, and these parts are called introns. The remainders, the exons, are not used in any real way by the body after birth. So theoretically, rather than having the DNA strands of acquired animals existing free in the bloodstream, as the technology works now, the genetic code of the animal could be directly copied onto one's own DNA, replacing the exons.

It's difficult to explain. But suffice it to say that nearly all the problems with the existing process would be eliminated. I just wasn't sure if my idea would work, or whether it would be fraught with a completely new set of complications. It was very tedious to work out, because of the difficulty in locating portions of communal DNA which could be isolated and rewritten.

(Scout Alcolrec, we have a matter of hours until we reach Earths orbit, and I will need your aid in formatting landing procedures and selection of a suitable site. Please cease what you are doing,) Feiranel prompted with a sneer.

I gazed back to my latest work in progress and sighed. It would be a long morning.

------

We were getting a readout on the status of the other members of our reconnaissance team. It appeared that the other four ships in our unit had made much better time than we had. I stared glumly at the screen in front of me, and relayed this to Feiranel. -Units 1 and 3 have already made planetfall, but have not as of yet reported back. Units 2, 4 and 5 are behind us. The rest of our unit is orbiting the larger satellite moon of the 4th planetary body, waiting for our arrival.-

(It is due to your incompetence in planning this flight that we have been delayed, Scout.)

(Yes, but your ineffectual piloting made us detour back at the Calari sector.)

Feiranel sniffed. (Inform them of our arrival.)

(Encoding the message,) I responded, watching the screen. A flash in the right hand corner alerted me. (I think this communication is being picked up by a foreign source.)

(Is it the Yeerks?)

(No way of knowing for sure.)

A voice emanated from the speaker, our squad leader. (Ah, Scout, you have arrived at last. I expect a report when we return to the fleet, detailing the reasons for your delay.)

(Yes, sir. Sir, before you continue, I believe this transmission is being intercepted.)

(Impossible. Our codes haven't been broken in centuries. We've been looking into the cause... It's probably a human device; they have many of them orbiting this planet. Even if we are detected they couldn't begin to comprehend it.)

The squad leader looked confident, but I've often felt overconfidence will be the undoing of my race. In this case, I had done my homework concerning the planet Earth. I knew that his words could not be true.

(Negative, sir. Human satellites are technologically incapable of picking up any Andalite frequency. It must be the Yeerks.)

His features darkened. Someone was about to get into trouble for that particular oversight. (This is being looked into. Please maintain course and hold for more information.)

Even Feiranel looked concerned. She shifted uneasily at the ops consol, but said nothing. I continued scanning the information sensors brought.

(Sir, I believe it is the Yeerks.)

(Simply not possible, Scout. Our sensors should pick up emanations from any Yeerk vessel close enough to read our signals. Even a clocked vessel would have been long ago detected.)

(I don't know, sir, it seems to be a Yeerk frequency...)

At that moment, all doubt was resolved. Ahead of us, its ominous shape looming large against the blackness of space, was a Yeerk blade ship backed by a small fleet of bug fighters.

The communication console blinked once more. (All ships retreat! Meet at the rendezvous point.) It did not reactivate. Battle was being joined.

It was short and bloody. Even as my comrades attempted to make their escape, more bug fighters uncloaked and cut them off. The obliteration of our leader's ship distracted me momentarily from the evasive maneuvers that were all that were saving us from meeting the same fate. Feiranel looked at me with a fear I had never seen before, with her, and cried, (Make for Earth, they won't expect that!)

(Earth will be too heavily defended!)

(It's our only chance. We're being slaughtered.) Even as she spoke another scout ship exploded in the air.

I spun the ship around and powered the engines. We were swamped with bug fighters, but Feiranel's expert shooting kept them at bay. While she fought, I recalibrated our emissions trail and sent out an urgent SOS to the main Fleet. (YEERKS HAVE CRACKED CODE. SCOUTING MISSION ABORTED. UNITS 1, 3 ,and 6 DISSOLVED. BE ON GUARD!) The Yeerks had set up an ambush by changing the signatures of their ships, but I could do this same to our scout vessel, and pass thought their defenses unhindered. I hoped. But I needed to try to warn my people.

We entered Earth's atmosphere joltingly, passing the island continent where our scout mission would have taken us, and hurtled towards the ocean. We may have escaped the Yeerks, but something was wrong with our ship!

(What is it?) I asked urgently.

(Our atmospheric controls were already off, but our sensor grid was mostly damaged during the dogfight. We cannot land.)

(Can we steer manually and clear the ocean?)

(Let's try.)

Somehow, we pulled our vessel out of a nosedive and shot over the vast ocean. To the east, a coastline soared into view. Too quickly. We were going to crash! (We need to put her down or we'll combust!) I urged.

(Leave the ship. We'll take a safety pod!)

On this outdated ship, the safety pod was a cramped little thing. There was barely enough room for Feiranel and I to stand, and extremely minimal controls. We ejected from our ship into the atmosphere hastily, but even as we did I realized our mistake. Momentarily we would be safe, but the safety pod was unshielded and undisguised. Any Yeerk who looked up would notice us. Not to mention any human. And there was still the danger that a bug fighter from the ambush had followed us.

Our ship sailed beneath us, heading downwards to certain destruction. It was cloaked, but the safety pod still registered its presence in the sensors. Feirenal and I watched, silently. It signaled the end of our scouting mission, and the end of our old lives. Some new fight was beginning. As it fell into the midst of a dense forest, I was surprised at the lack of a massive fireball. The shields must have maintained much more integrity than Feiranel had indicated. The craft had torn a furrow in the forest as it landed, but this was not as evident from the air as you might think. If it was not damaged, we could return to it....

Feiranel had the same thoughts, (Stay aloft as long as possible so that we can detract attention from the ship, and get back to it at some point. You did disguise our signature, Alcolrec?)

As we soared over the downed craft, I mentally marked its location. (The Yeerks should not be able to find it unless they discover it on the ground, or in a fly-over. Statistically, this is unlikely, given that they had no information about our intended arrival site on this vast planet, and that they may not even be aware that we escaped the battle.)

(Do we have any information about our intended arrival site?) Feiranel asked.

(We are in the north, close to a massive conurbation on the western continent.)

In the viewscreen, the horizon was rushing up towards us at an alarming speed. Sensors indicated that a small squadron of Bug fighters was hot on the heels of our escape pod. This was an ending. I held my breath as we slammed into the earth.