Disclaimer: I don't own the Andalites or the Animorphs series.
CHAPTER 1:MARIEL
It promised to be an exciting day. The sun pierced the morning cloud cover with all of the brilliance that an autumn day can offer. The dew caught the rays and danced in the sunshine as it played across the blue and red grasses. I could feel the dripping blades slap my hooves in protest as I tore through their newly washed stalks. It was like running on a firm sea.
I was on my way to one of the biggest spaceports in this region, a virgin metropolis with the order and sterility that you don't find in human cities. In fact, the spaceports were the only establishments close to what humans would consider a city. It was the locus of stylized offices and several nond3script buildings that served as temp quarters to the base's employees and to the many soldiers awaiting activation or marching orders.
The purpose of my being there was to welcome my father home from the war. He was one of the lucky ones that were able to keep coming back for more, not one of those dejected souls that were forced to remain planetside with their families due to some sleight injury or mishap.
War has a tendency to change people, or so I've heard. Instead of being totally paranoid and withdrawn, he became belligerent and possessed of a permanent frown. My father was drafted into the service before I was born. I've never know a different man, so I can't complain of a better time with a better father than the one I know today. He is sincere in his love if not open with his affections.
He has come back on my account. He was needed in the negotiations for my wedding. It was finally time for my parents to wash their blades of me. I wasn't overly concerned. Final arrangements can take years. I have no idea what's to be arranged aside from the location, dare and time that my father hands me over to my husband, but I have a suspicion that it involves credits and other dowry items.
I arrived at one of the outposts to the military base.
>Present name, registration, and entry code chirped the automated receptionist.>
>Estrill-Mariel-Gahar. 2136868. Receiving a family member—code: 250.>
>Cleared.>
I took the chance to catch my breath so that I could swagger into the base. I moved from plush grass to hard-packed earth, burn and worn. The reddish dust rose in little puffs with every step I took and mingled with the dew spiked fur of my ankles. I was determined not to evidence my feminine dislike of the mud. I didn't want to give any warriors the chance to smirk at me. In all actuality, I was being stubborn more for my own sake than for any of the people around me who couldn't care less.
While pondering my image, I was jarred by the fact that I was late and that my family was probably waiting. Let me make a point about Andalite decorum: when you are due somewhere, you had better be there on the sharp side of the stroke, I mean, if you lose a leg trying to get to where you need to be, you had better be prepared to hobble the rest of the way. For me to miss this public reception, when I was so obviously a part of the welcoming committee, would reflect unfashionably on my whole family.
I dropped my dignity and ran. In my rush to reach the cradle that my father's ship was docked at, I barreled full on into a passing warrior. I tried to stop, but there was nothing doing. I hit him at a queer angle and knocked his legs out from under him and he fell on me. I could have died of embarrassment right there, panting under that warrior with every head in the vicinity turned, staring and laughing (for us, the look is the same).
The warrior looked back at first, like he expected something big and menacing to have laid him flat. Then he looked down at me. I was irate and mortified.
He smiled.
I melted at the look in his unusually amber-gold eyes.
He made a move to get up. I winced as I felt the momentary increase in pressure as he attempted to life himself off of me. He held out his hand to help me up with a knowing smile, but I felt foolish for being caught fawning and brushed the proffered hand aside. I righted myself rather ungracefully.
I sighed, >I tender my apologies, sir, and that my undue haste has caused you to fall.>
>I will accept your apology if you will grant me your name,> he replied formally, >and no 'sir,' mind you, I'm not old enough for that,> he added.
>M-M-Mariel,> I stammered like a simpleton. I looked up at him impulsively.
He nodded—a curious gesture that I took for acceptance. >And where are you so desperate to be, if I may ask?>
I regained my decorous composure. >To greet my returning father,> I answered him meekly. I felt like a coward and a hypocrite. I always tell my friends to stand tall in the face of any being, to never simper for the sake of some man's ego. How I longed to be able to look him in the face and tell him my business with confidence, to be able to laugh off our collision. I determined that I would…just as soon as I worked up a bit more courage.
>Well, I must be going, Mariel, up mayhap I'll run into you again sometime soon,> he said, interrupting my thoughts. I guess he took my silence to mean that I didn't wish to speak with him any longer. He turned and started to walk away.
>Run into me? That was so wrong,> I said before I could catch myself. I shrank back.
>Like you powers of observation or your sense of direction, maybe?> He shot back at me, sufficiently disarming the potential situation I had created. Our eyes met as he said privately to me, >I'll have my revenge on you some other time.> I knew by the way that he smiled that I would probably enjoy his vengeance. I smiled back.
As soon as he was out of site, I took off for my father's ship. I didn't have to think about Karrass now; I knew that I would have plenty of time to think about him the next time we met and the next time, and the next.
