6 About the One

- - -

"Blind?" Tobias repeated.

Rachel nodded. "Blind," she confirmed. "I see absolutely nothing. Nothing at all."

"But… when…"

"About half a year ago, maybe a bit more."

"Just after the time Ax disappeared," Marco commented. "What happened?"

Rachel pulled free from Tobias's hands and shrugged. "I don't really know what happened. A group of warriors and I were attacking a key group of Yeerk bugs. Since Ka'an had put me in command, it was being done successfully. We were doing some serious damage. Then this green glow appeared all around me and a voice told me – in English – to keep out of his way. My fighter was thrown backwards, ripped apart and I was suddenly out floating in space. That's the last thing I saw. The other pilots saved me from dying, but for some reason I can't see anymore."

Marco's eyes narrowed. "It sounds like we've got an Ellimist-type with a finger in this."

"Did you get hurt badly?" Tobias wondered worriedly.

Rachel shrugged. "That's the thing. I didn't have a scratch on me."

"Why didn't you just morph it away?" Marco wondered.

"I really wish I could, Marco, but for some reason I can't morph, either. Not since I appeared in this part of space."

"Hold on now," Jeanne ordered, lifting her hands. "Is this Rachel? As in, the Rachel? Rachel the Animorph?"

Rachel nodded. "The one and hopefully only. And you are?"

"She's Jeanne," Jake said. "New recruit. And we've also got Santorelli and Menderash-Postill-Fastill."

"An Andalite?" Rachel guessed.

"Human nothlit," Santorelli corrected.

"Good for him. Andalites aren't that popular around here." Then her forehead wrinkled worriedly. "Where's Cassie? She's… she's not dead, is she?"

"No," Jake assured her. He was looking troubled. "Cassie's alive. And safe. She's back on Earth."

"And Ax?"

"We're looking for him, so to speak. Long story," Marco said. "We'll tell you later."

Before Rachel said anything further, Jake's worry was unleashed and he had opened his mouth to speak again; "Rachel? I'm sorry… for what happened on the Blade ship. I shouldn't have… shouldn't have given that order. That last one… sending you with Tom. I… I know it was –"

"Did we win?" Rachel interrupted.

"What?" Jake said eloquently, blinking once.

"It's a simple question, cousin; did we win?"

Jake blinked. Nodded, realized it did not do any good because she could not see it, and said; "Yes."

Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. "Then it was worth it."

"No," Tobias spat, shaking his head, glaring at Jake, even sending a glare at Rachel, the old anger suddenly steaming again. "It wasn't worth it. Not to me. I don't care about human kind, or the Andalites, or even the Yeerks. None of it was worth losing you." His hands were clenched, challenging someone to disagree.

"Tobias."

"No." He shook his head forcefully, eyes almost hawk-fierce. "Rachel, I loved you, and I still –"

"Listen to me, Tobias!" Rachel snapped. And took a deep breath when he silenced. "Listen. I was a warrior. I was doing my job, and died at it. It was me. I've thought this over for three years, almost four, so don't you dare argue with me. I've got a warrior's heart, a fighter's soul, I still have. If I know anything, I know this; I'm not made to live a long, prosperous life and die at home, surrounded by grandkids and a loving family. That life would drive me nuts."

Tobias stared at her. As if he did not believe what he was hearing. Or as if he believed it, knew it to the bottom of his soul, but simply did not want to hear it. Any of it.

"She's right," Marco said finally, trying to sound cheerful. "It would. It almost drove me wacko, and I was a millionaire." A sneaky glance at Jeanne, followed by one at Rachel. Neither reacted, so Marco continued; "And if I almost went nuts, Xena here wouldn't have lasted a week."

"Thanks, Marco," Rachel sighed. "That's exactly it." She stretched out a hand to where she thought Tobias stood, but he had moved. Her hand fell downwards again when it only found empty air. "But that's the past. Over and done with. We're back together now." She grinned. Rubbed her hands. "And I'm sure you've got some mad, suicidal mission I can join."

"Whoa, Rachel," Jake ordered, raising his hands. "Let me see if I've got this straight. You're blind, you can't morph, and you still want to join our mission?"

"Well, that's proof enough for me," Marco commented, jerking his thumb at the blind girl. "This really is Rachel."

"Did you ever doubt it?" Tobias wondered.

"Don't try to be my mother, Jake," Rachel snapped, hands on hips. "What's the mission?" Her eyes narrowed briefly, and she added; "And why is it so important to the Andalites that one of them goes nothlit?"

"We're on a search-and-rescue mission," Marco said. "Although we forgot the St. Bernard hounds at home. We're trying to find Ax – known to the Andalites as the Great Prince Aximili, or something like that. Actually, we've found Ax. Now comes the hard part."

Menderash raised an eyebrow at Marco when he said the part about 'Great Prince Aximili'. Rachel smiled at it, happy that her Andalite friend obviously had experienced some success, and Jake rubbed his forehead, rolling his eyes.

"So, where is Ax?" Rachel said.

"This… being," Tobias said. "He calls himself the One. He's taken over Ax. Literally."

Rachel went a little pale. Being Rachel, it was – certainly – no more than just a little. "The one hanging by the Blade ship?"

"You know about him?" Marco said.

A dry laugh. "Who in this quadrant of space doesn't know about the One?" There was a short pause, and Rachel's was face unreadable as she tried to figure out what to say. "He's… a being. I've never seen him myself, that I know of, but he's real. He's like the Ellimist, or Crayak. But that's all I really know. I know more about what he does. He has… followers. The Lost. Also known as the Touched. Manically loyal. Obsessed. I don't think they're even capable of defying his orders."

"A regular cult, then," Santorelli concluded.

But Rachel disagreed. "No. Really obsessed. He does something to them… plays games with their minds. Marks them by making their pupils shine with green, especially in the dark. He sees what they see, hears what they hear…" she shrugged. "What do you know about Ax?"

"The One appeared as Ax," Marco told her. "But it couldn't have been Ax, because – as far as I remember – Ax didn't have a mouth."

"A mouth?" Rachel said skeptically.

"An ugly one with big red teeth. And he spoke through it – using a voice that definitely wasn't Ax's. Said something about 'this Andalite is part of me'. Creepy."

"Rachel," Tobias said. "Does that fit your description of the Touched?"

She sighed and shook her head. As always, her hair was held straight down and somehow kept in place. "I didn't really have any hope for that from the beginning," she admitted with a grimace. "See, the Touched are voluntary. From the start, at least. Ax wouldn't do that. No, Ax is not one of them."

"Then what has happened to him?"

"I think he's one of the Taken."

"Which means?" Jake wondered.

Even though Rachel was blind, she still expressed things with her eyes – or as much as she ever had. Now they conveyed sadness. "It means, Jake, that if he's still alive – in any form of the word – he'd be wishing he could be a Controller instead."

- - -

Arayah-Althasa-Neferia knew better than to attempt another escape. They always caught her, in the end. There was no-where to run. And instead of walking in herself, the Hork-Bajir would simply lift her, carry her back to the door, and throw her in. To her sensitive Andalite pride, the humiliation was almost unbearable. Especially when they laughed.

So instead of refusing to enter that room, she straightened up as much as she could in the tight shackles and pulled free from the human-Controller's hand. Then she walked into the room on legs she hoped would refrain from folding beneath her, and heard a brief laugh as the door closed behind her with a bang. She almost flinched.

"There you are," a voice said out of the darkness.

The mouth. She had never grown used to the mouth. It was too dark to see it at the moment, maybe the foul being had not even made his appearance yet, but just knowing it would be there…

The shackles on her tail and arms vanished, turned to dust and fell away. A sickening green glow crept out of the corners of the room and made its way towards the middle. She did not move.

"I enjoy these conversations," the voice continued.

«I do not,» Arayah replied. Which was, thanks to the One's constant inventions, all she could remember of any of them. She remembered standing there, in that room, facing a more and more angered One, but she could not remember a single word that had been spoken. Not even what she had been thinking about them.

A glistening row of red, sharp teeth flashed in a hideous grin in the center of the room. Two green eyes, disturbingly Andalite but with the addition of a shining green pupil, twinkled above the teeth. "I know. But sooner or later will be the last time you enter this room. You can put an end to these meetings, Andalite. If you remembered anything about them, you would know how."

The glow gathered in the center; the eyes and mouth were clearly visible. Features around the rest of the face were beginning to appear; all of it alarmingly Andalite. The glow was swirling up and taking a shape, forming into a living, breathing being.

But still not. Rafatal had pointed that out very clearly, that first night in captivity, after meeting the One. Rafatal had said this; «What we saw, was not our Captain. Not our Prince. Not Captain-prince Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthil. He is dead. Or worse. What we saw, was an illusion.» He had been looking straight at Arayah with all four eyes when he had spoken. As if she would have more difficulty accepting this than any of the others!

But still… a mere illusion. It was hard to think that way when the blue fur, stalks, ears, face, the shoulders, chest and down to the base of his hooves and up to the root of his tail-blade, all of it was Aximili.

Except for that mouth. That obvious fact that at once revealed that this was no Andalite. Had been, perhaps, but not any more.

And at a second look, you found that the creature was two dimensional. No Andalite had ever been two dimensional.

Arayah knew why the One chose to appear this way, instead of just popping into existence as he usually did. He wanted to display his power, to intimidate her, frighten her. The entire show with the mouth, eyes, and the sickening green glow had one single message; fear me.

The One had numerous shapes. Numerous of what the Yeerks called the Taken, which they spoke of as some type of semi-gods. But he always used the shape of her Prince for their conversations.

"Let us start from the beginning," the One said. "I need your help."

«With what?»

"Not important. I need your eyes, female. I need your ears." He was almost whispering, using a tone very similar to Prince Aximili's; how his voice was unconsciously lowered, soft and reassuring, when he spoke to her privately and danger was near.

Arayah focused on the mouth. This was not Aximili.

"I just want you to open your mind for me, Andalite," the One continued, using the same low voice. But his was somehow sharper. A plea delivered in a commanding tone. "I just need to touch your mind. It will not hurt."

He came closer, one hand lifted – though still contained in his two dimensions – as if to reach out and grab her. Arayah took an involuntary step back. Her tail touched the door behind her as she did so.

Trapped.

«Why?» she repeated.

"Not important. Open your –"

«I will do nothing until you tell me why!»

A hesitation. The air sparkled green with his anger. His four eyes flashed and Arayah felt a shiver.

"Very well," he said finally. "I shall anyhow erase what has been said here from your memory. Why, Andalite? Because I want eyes on the Andalite planet. I want to expand my empire, conquer new species to add to my collection. I want you to be my eyes, Arayah-Althasa-Neferia."

Arayah would have taken another step back if she had not already been backed up against the door. Her name sounded like a curse when it came over those lips. Like her fate had just been sealed – and not pleasantly.

«Why me?» she managed.

"Because you are perfect for the job," he said, almost purring. "If you return home and claim to have escaped, no-one will doubt you. Why? Because any noble Andalite would help you escape at the cost of his own life, even though you yourself are a warrior. If they ask for your fellow warriors and you say they helped you out but lost their own freedom, no-one will question you. You have credibility. You can claim you owe your life to those four warriors still trapped here, and be believed."

He smiled. "Why you, Andalite? If any of your friends returns, they will be questioned; why did you leave your fellow warriors behind? And more importantly, Arayah… They will wonder, they will whisper behind his back; why did he not save the female instead of himself? He would be shamed. Disgraced. Shunned. And someone who is disgraced and shunned would be of little use to me."

Arayah was not planning to give this creature anything. What he did, he did for himself. Not for anyone else. She did not have any intentions of giving him the key to her home world.

The One's eyes shone brighter. "Arayah, listen to me; I could make you queen! I could make you empress… whatever you wish to be! I will send you home, unhurt, and… I shall grant anything you ask for."

She hesitated. «Anything?»

"Whatever you wish shall be yours," he promised.

«Whatever I wish?»

"Yes," the One confirmed eagerly.

«I wish my friends freed.»

"And sent home with you? Of course." A mouth-grin. Horrible.

But Arayah felt a tiny, minuscule bit of hope. Although it was nearly drowned in her other emotion; fear. She had a plan. Dangerous, but it was not less dangerous than remaining on the Blade ship. «All of them.»

A quizzical expression. On an Andalite's face. With a mouth. Two dimensional.

Not Andalite at all. Not any more.

Arayah lifted a hand and pointed at the being who called himself the One. «My Prince as well.»

He grew with his anger. Suddenly his stalks reached the roof, even though he stood hunched down, his shoulders were about as wide as the length of Arayah's tail, and his hooves were the size of her head. The green glow intensified and stung her eyes like needles.

"Every time, you ask the same thing!" he roared. "Every time you demand for the freedom of your friends, and at the last moment add your Prince!"

Arayah wished she could pull back. Her tail was cocked, but she knew it would be unable to help her.

"Your fellow warriors are useless to me. I can send them home. I can kill them, or let the Yeerks have them infested, if I chose to. They are irrelevant. But AXIMILI REMAINS WITH ME! Your Prince, my dear little warrior, is a part of ME. Which is where he shall be staying. I could not let him go if I wanted to. UNDERSTOOD?"

The room went dark again, slowly. The One appeared to be gone, but Arayah knew better than to breathe a sigh of relief. She could still feel his evil presence. And the shackles were not yet back on her arms and tail. She waited for him to speak again.

"You will agree, you know," he said. "eventually."

She turned her back to him, as if to leave the room – as if she could decide when the discussion would be over.

"It is only a matter of time," he continued. "You'll let me use your eyes."

«You are asking me to betray my People,» she said, turning back towards him. Partly to show she was not afraid – a lie, really – and partly because the door was locked.

"I am asking you to show them to me," the One corrected. "And, if necessary, lead them. Under my command."

«I took an oath when I became a warrior,» Arayah said, firmly, gathering strength from that memory. «Even before that; when I became an aristh. I swore to protect the People. With my life.»

The One continued without listening to her. "Your life isn't in danger. Just open your mind. Let me use your eyes."

«I repeat the oath in the morning ritual, every morning,» Arayah said. She had never really gotten used to the rituals that came with the life of a warrior, but for once she could feel what use they served; it was a powerful memory, knowing that the oath was firmly rooted in who she was, what she was. And no two dimensional being was going to uproot it. Not without a fight. «I will not break it.»

"Arayah, the oath will mean nothing if you are the leader of your people," the One said. "Open your mind to me!"

«No.»

The room, if possible, went even darker. He was really gone, now. But even gone, he frightened. Even with disappearing, he threatened. The shackles were back on her arms and tail, holding them in place so tightly it hurt. The door opened behind her, and the Yeerk guards motioned for her to come out. They only reluctantly entered the room.

She came back out as they asked, not wanting to stay in there any longer than she had to, and let them escort her back to the cell she shared with her friends.

On the way, they walked past a force field. On the other side, outside the ship, Taxxons crawled around, working feverishly on repairing the damage to the Blade ship. The story was that some cruiser-class ship had crashed into it and almost cut it in half. The enemy ship had been taken care of, and it was probably nearby, being repaired as well. The Blade ship had been saved down to the surface of this planet – whatever planet it was – by the Kelbrid that were the Yeerks' allies.

But what caught Arayah's eye was the sky above. It was a beautiful sight; so similar to her sky at home. She stopped, refusing to take another step, and admired it. A fresh stab of homesickness struck her. It felt like someone had stabbed her in the chest and now was twisting the tail-blade round in the wound.

"Move," said the guttural voice of a Hork-Bajir-Controller. The flat of a wrist blade slammed into her side and hands grabbed her arms to pull her on. But Arayah kept her stalks aimed on that patch of sky for as long as she could.

And already, what had been said between her and the One was gone from her memory.

- - -

Head of Council Lirem stared at the statistics on the hologramic screen for about a moment. The three Informers behind him watched carefully, nervously. They had not exactly volunteered for this… errand.

Informing the Head of Council about things like this tended to be unpleasant.

Lirem began shaking his head, slowly. «This cannot be accurate,» he said. «This… this isn't true.»

«I am afraid it is,» the bravest of the Informers said. «Six Dome ships out of action, one of them missing without a trace. In only three days. Six Dome ships, seventy-two cruiser-class warships and uncountable fighters.»

«If things continue at this rate our Fleet will be annihilated in a matter of months,» Lirem said. He was silent for a few seconds. «What do we know about the Kelbrid fleet?»

«Very fast fighters,» the Informers said. «Powerful weapons, and seemingly equipped with excellent scanners. You simply cannot sneak up on them – or lay a trap for them.»

«Size?»

«A little smaller than our own. Black, shaped like arrowheads.»

«And their ships?»

The Informer squirmed where he stood, shifting his weight to another set of hooves. «They only have fighters, Head of Council.»

«Nonsense!» Lirem snapped, his famous temper steaming up again. «HOW CAN A GROUP OF SMALL FIGHTERS TAKE DOWN SIX DOME SHIPS?!!!»

«They do not remain just fighters,» the second Informer said. «They combine and form ships in all scales and sizes. Built up like that, they somehow act like one ship. They are slower, less agile, but the weaponry is simply amazing!»

«We are supposed to find ways to destroy them, Informer, not marvel about them.»

The Informer blinked rapidly with all four eyes, bowed his stalks low and backed away to hide his embarrassment.

«Anything important to add?» Lirem asked.

«Head of Council…» the first spoke again, but then hesitated and glanced at his colleagues before continuing; «Even with the rearmament… even with the call for female arisths… our Fleet will be butchered. There are simply too many of the Kelbrid. They are just as numerous as the Yeerks ever were, even worse, and their fighters… their ships…»

«Are you saying we will lose this war?» Lirem asked calmly.

Another hesitation. A longer one. Then; «Yes.»

«'Yes'?» Lirem repeated, tail twitching, suddenly glaring at the three with his four, critical eyes. «'Yes', what? 'Yes, we will lose'? The Andalite Fleet does not lose, Informer, I will inform you myself on that one. Either we win, or we win. These Kelbrid are allies of the remaining Yeerks. We lose to them, and we lose to the Yeerks. I have no wish to see Yeerks rule this planet, and neither do I wish to see one rule me.

«None of you has a family to worry about, but I do, and so does almost every warrior from the simplest aristh to the top War-Princes in Apex Level. And I know, I can feel it in my hooves, that not one of them will even consider the option of losing or surrendering as long as those families are under threat. May that threat be Kelbrid or Yeerks, it does not matter. The Andalite Fleet WILL come out victorious, if I so have to cut those Kelbrid apart one by one with my own tail-blade! IS THAT CLEAR?»

«Yes, Lirem,» three voices said meekly.

«Then we better see to it, don't we?»

«Yes, Lirem,» the same three voices said in the same tone.

Lirem sighed. His tail was up in attack, an unavoidable effect of his anger, and now he lowered it again. He shook his shoulders to get rid of the tension in them and flexed his stalks thoughtfully.

«Any ideas?» he said.

«Head of Council, the humans have offered their… support,» the first Informer said slowly. «It might be needed. The humans are, as we know, maybe inexperienced with intergalactic warfare. But they are fast learners, and quick at adapting to new situations, and they do not give up easily.»

«Also, they are numerous. They have the numbers we need,» the third Informer added. But then pointed out; «They lack a fleet.»

Lirem formed a stalk-eye smile. «That, Informers, is a minor problem. Call the Earth Council. Tell them we accept their support – of course not because we need it, but because we feel they have a right to fight the Yeerks and allies if they wish to.

«Moreover, we will be sending technicians and scientists and warrior to… aid… their building of a fleet. Of course we expect generous compensation… perhaps they will finally be willing to share the secret of the making of the cinnabon. I'm sure we and the Earth Council can come to some sort of agreement.»

«And save our own tails while we're at it,» the first Informer added.

«Bluntly spoken, yes,» Lirem agreed. «But that stays within private thought-speech. Understood?»

«Yes, Head of Council.»