In the future I'll be responding to questions and comments at the bottom of each new installment. I've also decided to use (this) instead of –this- to represent thoughtspeak, because it's less disruptive and I tend to overuse hyphens anyway. Enjoy.

As always, this is KA Applegate's marvelous world and I'm just borrowing it.

The door of our escape pod slid open with a muted hiss. There was no time to think or be afraid, and so I took the first steps out into this forest of planet Earth with deliberate confidence. Feiranel took a bit longer. She was strapping two massive shredders to her back, and secreting other weapons and knives about her body. I took nothing. My most powerful weapon flowed through my very veins.

I guess you could say that Feiranel was attractive, by Andalite standards. I had always been put off by her toughness. You know, in ancient times, Andalite females were not permitted to participate in warfare because of their smaller stature and weaker tail blades. Times changed, especially as firearms replaced blade-to-blade combat and it became clear that females were equally capable of aiming and firing.

Feiranel was more than capable. I have no doubt that in time she will be able to clash tails with the greatest old warriors of my people. I had known her when we were younger; when we were arisths together. She had already been studying combat for several years and was consistently at the top of the academy. She trained constantly. She was as strong and quick and fast as any male. She was a quick study in every aspect of martial technique taught at the academy from marksmanship to amphibious invasion. Her family was very proud. Feiranel herself seemed unaware of her excellence, as if all of her achievements had been effortless.

This was only her second mission as a full Andalite warrior. But I was glad to have her on my side.

As she left the escape pod, she pressed a button and entered a code in thoughtspeak. Turning to me, she asked, (You will be able to find our ship?).

I nodded. I had memorized the coordinates of the area where our ruined ship had come to rest, and I knew the direction and distance we would need to travel to get there from our present position. Andalites are rather good at things like that. We just needed to hope that nothing would drive us too far off course. And that our pursuit would not be too close on our heels. We had landed in a forest, which would slow our enemy down, but it also hampered our own movement.

Feiranel watched calmly as the escape pod combusted with an odd "pupp" sound. Andalite self destruct codes are very efficient, even in older models. For us this was good; no one searching for us would see or hear an explosion. I still got shivers up my spine as I watched the tiny vehicle vanish in a swirl of iridescent particles.

(We're going to have to move fast.) As she said it, she looked disgustedly at me. I guess you could say that I'm not in the best physical shape for an Andalite. I did not even approach the condition that Feiranel kept herself in. It had been years since I had left academy, and scouts don't really make an effort to maintain their physical strength. Well, some of us do. Not me, though. I had spent the better part of the last year researching humans, and working on the technique for my new Escafil device. I looked more like a civilian than a soldier, although I was technically a member of the military. And I would definitely not be able to keep pace with Feiranel-- in my Andalite form.

(Run ahead! I will be able to track you,) I told her. (I have a morph that is very quick, and will also help if we are forced to stand our ground. Go that way,) I indicated with a dip of my head.

Feiranel looked doubtful, and I could tell her mind was full of questions. I could also tell that she did not want to leave me. It was her mission to protect me.

(Go!) I shouted. (I am morphing an ungach!)

She actually smiled. She wheeled and ran off quickly in the direction of our ship.

I had already begun the change. An ungach is an uncomplicated morph for an Andalite. My legs became thinker and sturdier. I experienced a dry feeling as my digestive tracts retreated up my legs from the pads in my hooves, but the hooves themselves remained the same, only broader and larger. The fur that covered my body became thinner and longer, and turned gray-green in color. My tail sucked into my body, replaced by a useless stump, which is always disconcerting for an Andalite. But even as I lost the deadly tail blade that is an Andalites primary mechanism for defense, the horns of the ungach sprang threatening forward over my elongating face.

The history of the ungach species is an enthralling study. They had been grazers, and roamed the vast plains of their planet as the dominant lifeform. Originally they looked like most grazers do-- slender legs for quick, fast movement; flat grinding teeth set in a long muzzle. The most remarkable aspect of the ungach was their branched horns, which, on a mature male, were a magnificent display intended to attract a mate. These horns were actually jointed at the base, which meant that the animal could rotate and move them, but only slightly. Females possessed an atrophied, but still impressive, rack.

Over time, the ungach slowly became omnivorous, augmenting their diet of grass with carrion and small prey. However, sometime in the last millennium, disaster struck their planet. A massive asteroid made impact along the equatorial line, spewing up billions of tons of dirt, ash, and gases into the atmosphere. Solar rays struggled to pierce the dense cloud that now blanketed this unfortunate world. All life was choked, and either adapted or died off.

The ungach survived. Certain of them had experienced an evolutionary shift beforehand which left them better equipped for consuming meat. Their teeth were sharper, and their digestive tracts were modifying themselves. As darkness descended on the planet, the herbivorous ungach strain disappeared along with the majority of the plant life. And the omnivorous strain began to change. They began to feed on the smaller carnivores of the planet. They lost the ability to eat plants altogether, and learned how to kill.

Naturally, a grazer has very few defenses aside from its speed. The ungach were forced to undergo dramatic changes in order to survive on their ruined world. Their antler racks, which had always had a measure of flexibility, gained the movement capacity of an Andalite wrist. The antler's edges, formerly dull and coated with downy fuzz, became razor sharp, and pointed at the tips. They gained all the senses and instinct of a predator. As their world gradually repaired itself, the earth sprouted trees instead of grass. The ungach planet grew into a patchwork of field and forest, much like Earth. New life developed. And the prehistoric ungach ruled it all.

The ungach that exists today still retains some hint of it's gentle origins. The hooves, the build of it's torso, it's long neck, the swiftness. But you have only to look at the spears springing from its head, or the sharpness of its toothy smile, to know that you are looking at a killer.

As I completed the morph, the hunter's instinct kicked in. A whole new world of sight and smell had eclipsed the still forest I had stood in a few minutes again. It wasn't difficult to overcome, for despite it's ancient origins, the ungach never developed advanced intelligence. Also, learning to control a difficult morph is one of the first tasks a scout must master. A tool is no good if it cannot be wielded with control. I scented Feiranel's tracks darting off into the wilderness, and fell into an easy lope to catch up.

I could smell Ferianel's exertion as she had run. It was near her full speed, but we had a long distance to travel, and she was saving her energy. On the other hand, it wasn't exactly as if she were holding herself back for me. She knew that the ungach could outrun any Andalite in a forest. Easily.

My powerful legs propelled me through the underbrush a high speed. My horns were rotated back against my neck, out of the way of low-hanging branches and entangling vines. I could sense life all around me, strange life, but I forced myself to focus on the trail. If the nose of the ungach had not been so adept at tracking I would have lost her. She left almost no visible evidence of her passing. I would like to think that I had not either, but with a creature the size of an ungach, my passage would be difficult to disguise. I was easily three times my normal size. Would the Yeerks be able to follow it? If they were tracking us on foot, they had likely brought Hork-Bajir. Hork-Bajir could move extremely fast through the treetops, and fairly fast on the forest floor. But their instincts were those of bark-eating tree-dwellers. I wasn't sure how well they could follow a trail in Earth's woods.

I soon overtook Feiranel, who was running quite swiftly. I was glad I had taken the time to change forms, or else I would never have been able to catch her. We continued our odyssey, her slim legs flashing like lightning, my massive ones trotting beside her.

I guessed that we were at least ten hours away at this pace from our ship. This meant that I would need to stop and demorph several times before our destination. You can only remain in morph for around 125 human minutes before the change becomes permanent. (Feiranel, soon I'm going to have to take a break and demorph,) I told her.

(Do you think we're being followed?)

(Undoubtedly.)

She scowled. (No, I mean, do you think they are far behind?)

(When the wind shifts I can smell them.) She didn't look surprised or worried. She smelled calm. I admired her fearlessness. (When the time limit is nearly reached I'll run ahead and return to Andalite form and then morph to ungach again. I'll wait for you. You should be able to follow my trail.)

(Scout Alcorec, what do we do when we get to the ship?)

It was nice of Feiranel to ask me. Usually she just told me. I attributed her uncertainty to her lack of knowledge about Earth and humans. It was a valid question.

(It depends on the state of the ship. If we're able to make repairs, we should try to get her airbourne and contact the fleet. You know basic engineering?)

(I can try. I may have… forgotten.)

Feiranel was a typical warrior. All Andalites learn certain basic skills by primary school, but very few maintain that knowledge throughout their life. Warriors in particular are notorious for their scorn of academics. I grunted at her answer.

(Are you laughing, Scout?)

(Of course not.) We were both silent for a moment.

(We'll figure everything out when we get back to the ship. We'll contact our Prince. The fleet is on its way here.)

(Alright.)

-------

The first, second and third demorphings occurred without incident. By the time I had re-assumed ungach form, Feiranel would come bounding out of the trees. Her facial slits fluttered with exertion at this point. She was wearing herself down. I'm sure she wished she, too, could morph into a larger creature who could handle the distance and speed with ease.

Feiranel's disdain for morphing technology was more than the typical warrior contempt. I had heard a rumor once that she was unable to use the morphing technology. Quite a few Andalites develop allergies to a particular strand of DNA. A very, very, small number of them are allergic to the morphing technology itself. The body rejects the ability to take another form. This is why your first morph is always done with supervision, so that action can be taken if you are one of the unfortunate few. Morphing specialists can tell in the first few seconds if something is going wrong because the body had rejected the biotechnology, and circumvent disaster. For those with the allegy, the morphing process is fatal.

It could be true that Feiranel was one such an individual. She had never said anything to me. It would explain her prickliness on the subject. Or it could just be the typical warrior pride that tinged her every action. I knew for a fact she was not morph capable, but whether this was because of an allergy, or just because she had never acquired the ability was impossible to guess.

About halfway through our journey, I knew Feiranel needed a rest. She was probably too proud to admit it, but she had pushed herself too hard initially.

(Listen, Feiranel, I no longer can scent our trackers. The wind is blowing from behind us, and I would smell them if they approached.) I peered with the ungach's eyes into the forest ahead. (I think I see a clearing. We could stop and eat.)

(Are you hungry, Scout?) Feiranel asked. I wondered if she was going to insist on continuing.

(Very.)

(We will stop a few minutes.) Even Feiranel could not disguise the relief in her voice as she said it.

The clearing that I had glimpsed was actually a vast field of green-gold grass. Heaven for a hungry Andalite. I had heard that the grass on Earth was quite palatable. I returned to my native form eagerly and raced through the grass.

Feiranel was moving slower, her body taxed from a half-day's flight through the forest. I think she was enjoying the moment as well, but it is always difficult to be sure, with her.

Ahead of us the field experienced a rise in elevation. At the apex of this hill were a small strand of trees and a small rock formation. It was quite striking, and reminded me of the deliberate arrangements that we Andalites were famous for creating on our own world. I fed for a little bit more and called out to Feiranel, (Isn't this wonderful?)

(It is an interesting world, Alcorec.)

(I will race you to the crest of that hill,) I said, my sudden elation tinging the sound of my voice with happiness. She didn't respond, but I ran up the slope of the hill anyway.

To be honest, I had expected some sort of panoramic view. As I neared the strand of trees, I was greeted with a different landscape than I expected.

(Well, Andalite, you took a bit longer than I had expected.)

I didn't need to see the source of the thoughspeak to know who the speaker was. I could tell from the evil that permeated his words. An Andalite stood at the foot of the hill below me, a Dracon cannon trained to my position. An Andalite-Controller. Visser Three. Ringing him to either side were aliens—humans—toting massive Dracon beams. As I wheeled away from them, I heard the metallic sound of these beams being brought to the shoulder and aiming at me. As if that weren't enough, at the Visser's command, a troop of around ten Hork-Bajir-Controller warriors began loping up the hill in their nightmarish bodies.

(Feiranel, we've got company!) As I shouted these words she began running towards me, eager for battle. But not before the Yeerk Dracon cannon reduced the tree I had been standing in front of to a shattered, blazing torch.

I thought this would be a short chapter! Well, this is the style that I'll be writing in. Sorry if it's too slow for some people. I'll try to get chapters up earlier in the week, but I've been working on this a lot, trying to get as much down as possible before the summer ends.

I spent a lot of time describing the ungach because it's Alcolrec's primary battle morph, for obvious reasons, and you'll be seeing it again. For those of you who still can't picture it, imagine a moose. Make it bigger and greenish. Take the face and make it more wolflike. Take the antlers and imagine them as being much slimmer and deadlier, and raking forwards. Maybe it's not the most original alien creature, but I wanted Alcorec to have something functional and deadly. It always kind of bugged me that Ax had never acquired any useful alien morphs. It makes more sense that a morph-capable Andalite would have a full arsenal of alien morphs for use in various scenarios.

Questions
Brutal2003: Copying animal DNA onto our own DNA could have certain side effects on the original DNA. However, the intron/exon thing is biologically proven. Humans only use around 10% of their DNA. So theoretically you could completely copy the DNA of 9 different other animals onto our DNA. I'll get in to more about this later. It doesn't play a big part initially, because Alcorec is reluctant to use himself or others as a guinea pig for testing his new Escafil device. However, your question is sound: rewriting human DNA with that of an animal will ultimately have unintended consequences.

Wraithlord42: I'm assuming this story will ultimately be rated R for sexuality, drug use, and violence. The first five chapters or so will really only be an introduction to the full story. Feel free to contact me with further criticism if you like. I don't believe I "flamed" River Griffon. Let me just say that that is the type of feedback I myself would like to receive if it is merited. I was just being honest, and I tried to provide suggestions so that I wasn't completely negative.