Chapter 8

Toby Hamee

The nights we spent in Z-space went by slowly, and there were no days. My people, the Hork-bajir, were not nocturnal. The lack of day in space made the trip far lonelier than it would have been otherwise. Not many Hork-bajir would ever have to concern themselves with the nuances of space travel. None that were not controlled by the Yeerks, anyway. If a Hork-bajir was under the control of a Yeerk, they had a lot more things to be sad about than lack of sunlight.

I was lonely, but I had my friends. Jake and Rachel threw themselves into the rigorous training program I developed for them. It was my salvation. I wrapped myself in the duties and responsibilities of molding these two young humans into warriors. Not mere warriors – they had to approach perfection. Human senses were fine for most things, but what I knew of the two races we were likely to encounter encouraged me to instill precision into every move they made. Of course, they could morph to a bear and a tiger and that would go a long way towards leveling the playing field. The problem with that was that they were representing humans, just as I was representing the Hork-bajir and Aximili was acting on the behalf of Andalites. They couldn't go turning themselves into something these alien creatures would see as a different race. Not without confusing the Taruffs.

Marco spent his time discussing strategy with Aximili and perfecting his skills in the Messenger's starfighter. After everything I'd seen, I was still impressed with his skills. I began to think that the Ellimist had included him because of that particular strength alone, but a conversation with Marco had made me reevaluate him.

I had been eating some synthesized bark from the converter that tasted just as delicious as the real thing. Marco, toweling off from a recent shower, had stopped and made a glib remark to me about the intelligence of most plant-eating species.

"Where we are going, you'd be best not to let whatever nonsense comes to mind spew from your oral cavity," I'd said, sounding disinterested but my anger smoldering. I still had some issues about the lack of intellect in other Hork-bajir, including my parents. They may not have been smart, but they loved me as much as a parent could love a child.

I'd expected Marco to try and match wits and insult me further, and I'd have hated him for it. Instead, he stopped and thought. "I'm sorry, you're right," he said apologetically. "I'll be careful of what I say to the Taruffs when we get there. Thank you for the warning, and try to ignore my stupidity." He jerked his thumb towards the bridge. "I just ran a sim against an Andalite task force, and came out way better than I expected. I'm just being cocky." He patted my shoulder from where I sat and walked toward the room he and Tobias shared. "Thanks for putting up with me."

After that, I'd decided not to prejudge anyone the way I had with Marco. Tobias, who I felt had a mutual respect for me, spent his time watching me train Rachel and Jake. Whenever Rachel wasn't involved in training, Tobias managed to be around her in human morph. They did a lot of holding hands and touching. I approved – this was also the Hork-bajir way of showing affection.

I respected Jake as both a leader and a person. I knew of past feelings he had for Cassie, and I also wasn't so bad at reading human emotion that I couldn't pick up the tension between them. Instead of pressing the issue with Cassie, he let it go. He wanted her to want him, but he wasn't the type to force it on her, which I greatly agreed with. He instead concentrated on his training and becoming an expert of the species we were sent to save. The Taruffs did not have much of a spoken language – it was only about two hundred words. They communicated mainly by expressing emotion, which they could pick up through their little nubs at the base of their skull. It was a low-grade telepathy that Ax had seen in another species.

(The Leerans' telepathic ability is based on the same principle,) Ax had explained to me matter-of-factly. (Their abilities, however, exceed those of the Taruffs. While the Leerans can read thought and brain wave patterns at short range, the Taruffs can only pick up the biochemical signals associated with emotion if they are broadcasted. It kind of works like thought-speech.)

Jake, when he wasn't improving his sword skills, was becoming an expert on all things Taruff. I accompanied him in his studies, but chose to only learn the basics. While Jake studied them as if he were studying for a test, I learned simple things – such as their government, which was highly monarchial, a little of their planetary history, and behavior patterns. Jake deliberated over everything he could get his hands on, including information about our contact – a young female Taruff named Amni'bel. From what I gathered, this female was the one we had to protect at all costs.

I knew Aximili, Jake, and I were the only three who were going to the all-important first contact. Operation Howdy, as Marco had so eloquently dubbed the imperative mission, would include lots of diplomacy. From my experience, diplomacy was a blend of bluffing, lying, promises, and deceit all wrapped up in a package of smiles and handshaking. Jake had a knack for it, which was good, because neither Aximili or I had a taste for it. I'd have thought that I'd be included as a bodyguard, but both Aximili and Jake were quite capable of defending themselves. Jake looked surprised when I'd asked him about it.

"We're all going as a symbol," he'd explained to me. "If these Taruffs see that you, me, and Ax are all good friends from three different species, they'll be more inclined to trust us. Rachel isn't going because she might do something…foolish," he stuttered.

"Foolish?" I pressed.

Jake looked sheepish. "Yeah. Like, what if the Taruffs way of greeting visitors is head-petting? It wouldn't do for Rachel to start swinging because she doesn't like to be touched."

I opened my beak in a smile. "Marco might make a bad joke and offend them so badly they'd start a war."

Jake grinned. "Exactly. Tobias looks like a hawk, but we can't mislead them to think he's a different species. Cassie would be good to take with us, except we don't want humans to be overrepresented. It's all about appearances."

I started to point out appearances were important to human diplomacy and not necessarily Taruffs, but held my tongue. He had enough to worry about as it was.

Twenty-three days after our encounter with the Naff pirate group, we dropped out of Z-space relatively close to the Taruffs' planet, Xylen. With everyone at their battle stations, ready for trouble, we soon realized that the Taruffs were not even space-flight capable.

Ax was dumbfounded. (The reports said they were a level six civilization. That would include space flight. Look at the sensors. We're picking up multiple satellites in low orbits.)

Marco's voice, originating from the Mako fighter, broke in. "Isn't Earth a level six?"

(Yes,) Ax said. (Yes!) he cried, sounding abashed. (I assumed when I read level six that they'd have some ships or space stations in orbit, but that's not necessarily true. They could have achieved space flight without the technology to stay there.) He kicked the main engines up, less cautious now.

Rachel spoke a moment later. "Ax, I'm getting multiple contacts in high atmosphere. They've spotted us." She magnified her visual sensors so we could all see what she saw – perhaps three dozen atmospheric fighters buzzing around our intended landing area. As I watched, another dozen rose to join them.

(Attempt to contact them, Cassie,) Ax ordered. (When you find their frequency, ask for permission to land.) Cassie muttered into her headset, punched some buttons, and spoke again.

"They say we're clear to land at this location," she indicated a small part of the planet with a green grid on the heads-up display. "They said a bunch of other junk, but I didn't understand it."

Jake, standing behind Cassie, looked at Ax. "I did. They ordered us to power down weapons and be ready for boarding as soon as we land."

Ax shrugged. (It's not going to work that way. We're not going in aggressively, but we're also not going to look weak. Marco, deploy your fighter, but stay in screen formation. Don't target anybody – we're not trying to make them mad. Rachel, keep the shredders on stand-by. Jake, tell them that we won't make any aggressive moves, but they will not board our ship until they are invited.) Jake took the headset from Cassie, and at her command, started speaking in a monosyllabic sing-song. Ax brought us in swiftly, a lot more swiftly than the Taruffs had obviously anticipated. Their fighters left burn trails in the atmosphere trying to catch up, but they were only half as fast as we were, and we weren't even at full burn.

There was a cordoned-off landing zone prepared for us, and a growing crowd of over a hundred Taruffs had already gathered. I saw a covered building made of intricately carved stone immediated to the right of the LZ and a roped off pathway between the two. As Ax brought the ship about to face the building and deployed the landing gear, Jake said, "Okay, I've convinced them we're friendly. They've ordered the fighters to break off their approach." Even as he spoke, the fighters screaming towards us peeled off six at a time. When there were only six remaining, four peeled off. Two did not. I started to point this out to Aximili, but I noticed his main eyes and one stalk eye were already glued to the scene.

The two fighters, who were still coming towards us at full thrust, began a high-speed bank to break above the Messenger. The guns at the noses of both crafts oscillated with all the colors of the rainbow for a couple of seconds, fired as they cleared our hull by inches. I could feel as much as hear the low whump the guns emitted, and two loud noises, as if the metal from the hull itself was screaming, eminated somewhere in the back of the ship. "Hey, they shot at you!" Marco yelled stupidly. He didn't stay surprised for long – he kicked his own fighter up in pursuit of the two would-be assassins. I heard him yelling through the static that his high-speed turn had created, "Hey, you! The guys who shot my friends! Get your asses on the ground, or I'll put you there!"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Beautiful. Some of the first contact between humans and Taruffs, and Marco yells the word 'ass' at them. I'd be laughing, but his stupidity could ignite an interstellar war."

What sounded like, "Ka lan ach ito fou," was barked through the bridge speakers, and I realized that Cassie had tapped into the hostile fighters' transmissions. "Honor or death," Jake translated. The two fighters split, obviously setting up for another run on the Messenger, and Rachel centered her crosshairs on the lead fighter.

(Hold your fire until you can get a clean shot at their engines,) Ax ordered. (We don't want to kill anyone, but we are going to protect ourselves.) The guns started to glow again, and Rachel didn't wait for permission. She fired, and a narrow beam of shredder fire stabbed neatly into the engine nacelle at the back of the fighter. The engines promptly exploded, and there was what appeared to be an explosion in the cockpit –

And the Taruff was floating unharmed to the ground, waving his long arms at us in what could only be a curse. The other fighter had broken off its approach to avoid shrapnel from the fighter Rachel had incapacitated. Marco dodged his fighter around the descending Taruff, his starboard wingtip about two feet away from the free-floating pilot. Even from here, I could hear the croud below Oooh, at the maneuver. The Mako fighter tucked neatly in behind the bigger, blockier Taruff fighter and Marco easily matched every desperate tactic the Taruff tried to employ to shake him. The Taruff decided to play it cute – he angled in for another attack on the Messenger, knowing that Marco would have to be very careful not to hit the ship itself while shooting at the fighter. As the gun on the alien fighter charged up for a shot, I saw that Marco wasn't going to play his game. "One away," Marco said as he launched a small Viper missile and banked away from the certainly doomed fighter.

Before the Taruff could shoot, he saw the missile closing with his ship. He made the split-second decision not to go down with his fighter, and ejected. Maybe two seconds after he was clear, the missile hit the back of the fighter and turned it into a huge, bluish fireball.

"Fel lan. To too ya, lama su," the strange voice grated. Jake looked at Ax in open shock. "They said 'Congratulations. Please land.'"

Rachel grumbled. "Whatever. There aren't any more of them. We might as well see what they have to say."

(Agreed,) Aximili nodded. (Toby, Prince Jake, prepare yourselves for contact.) He looked at me directly. (The ship is picking up large amounts of trace methane. Prince Jake and I will not be affected, but you may feel lightheaded and dizzy for a few moments. Would you like us to wait at the ramp with you while you adjust?)

I shook my head, sending my neck into serpentine slithers. "That would show weakness. I will walk slowly."

"And we'll walk with you," Jake said, patting my hand. Ax began running the ship through stand-bys before we even touched the dark soil. Aximili led the way out of the bridge.

"Hey, Jake!" Rachel called after us. "Cassie's got something for you in our cabin." I looked back and saw that Cassie looked absolutely mortified.

"She's right," Cassie muttered. "It's just a little something I had the converter make."

Rachel seemed to delight in Cassie's obvious reluctance to talk about it. "Yeah. She spent over two weeks putting it together, so you better like it," she gloated. I could tell from Jake's expression he was nervous, but Ax snapped him out of it.

He gave the thought-speak equivalent of clearing his throat. (If you all don't mind, we do have alien royalty to meet.)

Cassie stammered after us, "It's just, um, well, you don't have to wear it if you don't want."

Jake opened the door to the girls' cabin on the way to the exit ramp. He looked back at us and said, "Uh-uh. No way. Not even for Cassie."

Ax looked and curved his stalk eyes into an expression of enjoyment. (Come now, Prince Jake. The Taruffs love warriors. Give them a warrior prince from Earth.)

He scowled at Ax, entered the room, and shut the door. He emerged a moment later, bare chested except for the leather and metal vest-like armor that covered his stomach, chest, and shoulders. A wickedly curved sword hung from his back. I thought it suited him well – far better than the multicolored rags humans called clothes. From Jake's expression, he did not agree with my assessment of the garment. "Rachel, I know this was your idea," he called. "I will get you back for this." Light giggling reached us through the sealed bridge door.

(Come, Prince Jake. You look rather fearsome,) Ax commented, and for once I couldn't tell if he was serious or joking. (To celebrate, you will lead our little parade. Let's go impress the Taruffs,) he said, hitting the ramp panel and walking proudly out of the ship behind Jake.