When a Touched dies
Fear had been building up rapidly and steadily since Carali and Minalea had first realised that the SwiftHoof actually carried Yeerks – and Controllers. It had not been eased by the five Controller-warriors who stormed into the room where they'd found the pool and definitely not when one of those warriors grabbed Carali's neck and pushed it down towards the pool's stinking, sludgy surface.
So about then was when Carali panicked. His tail arched forwards, but his blade was easily swiped aside by the warrior's own blade. He struggled to get away, rearing up on his hind legs with the only effect that he landed again on his knees, head even closer to the surface of the pool. Which didn't calm him down, either.
But all Andalite arms are weak, and although the warrior shoved with all his might his only advantage had been the element of surprise. Once that had passed there was a deadlock; Carali unable to get up, but the warrior not being strong enough to force him any further down.
Minalea had by then opened the door that was their planned escape route and just looked up to tell Carali to follow… and noticed what was happening.
Lights off! she cried, and as the lights obeyed she took a wild leap up on Carali's back, balancing precariously there and on the edge of the pool. From there, she issued what must have been no less than the clumsiest strike in the history of the Andalite fleet.
Two hundred generations of proud Andalite tail-fight instructors would have turned in their graves if they'd seen it.
Luck was on her side, though. The sudden darkness had caught the warrior unprepared and he was a bit lost for just a moment, during which Minalea's blade could hit his head with enough force to stun him, allowing Carali to break free.
Carali threw himself back and up, unbalancing Minalea. The warrior struck blindly – a swipe that hit Minalea's knees, and cost her the last of her balance. She stumbled off Carali's back and down towards the pool.
Carali got a grip on her arm and yanked her along as he backed away, making her land on the floor instead of in the pool.
Careful, he advised.
Close one, huh? she laughed, but was more than a bit pale as she got up and sped out of the room.
Carali prepared to follow, but cast a last glance at the warriors. Four of them had squeezed into the room, two on each side of the pool, and the last – noticing that Minalea had left the room – was halfway out the door again. The other four seemed to be having difficulty deciding whether they should go forwards or back.
Carali turned away from them and threw himself out the door.
Lock it! Minalea cried when she saw him, and he watched her slam her entire weight into the fifth warrior to push him back into the room.
Carali put his hand on the lockpad and gave the order. Although difficult to open, the door closed without hesitation and they heard the lock snap in place.
Minalea did the same with her door and they exchanged a glance of pure relief.
Well well well, she said, suddenly grinning again, taking a prancing step to the side. Aren't you glad I came with you?
Carali carefully chose not to comment that. I don't think it's a good idea to remain here, he said instead. He carefully collected his thoughts. We should –
Get back to the others, I know. Then what?
Get off this ship, I suppose. Too dangerous to stay – the entire crew is probably infested. A crew of… his voice turned to a near-snarl; …Andalite-Controllers.
Carali suddenly had a strong desire to correct that mistake. He sternly reminded himself that playing hero usually got people killed, remembering what trainer Sarjil from the Daybreak usually said. That is, said to arisths; warriors and Princes could play hero all they liked. But Carali followed orders – and instructions. We should leave and hand the problem to someone who can deal with it.
And they'd do a better job than we would? Minalea wondered, grim in the face, speaking slowly, as if she was forcing every word out a second after it wanted to come. It might be too late by then – and there is one thing we can do. she turned towards him, eyes shining, voice slowly rising as she continued; The Kandrona. If we find the Kandrona, and destroy it –
Carali stared at her. Such conviction – such sincerity – from Minalea? What, had she been infested or something while he hadn't been looking?
No, wait; in that case she wouldn't display any sudden changes in personality – and wouldn't be out to destroy Kandronas.
And how are we supposed to do that? he asked, in pure surprise. We don't know where it is, and even if we found it it'd be guarded and –
That's what I've got you for, she laughed, dancing past him and reaching up to let her fingers brush past his cheek, almost as if by accident.
Carali blinked in surprise, losing track of what he was about to say. I'm not… I mean, I… Curse her for being so distracting – he glared at her and started over. Who said I'm even coming?
What? she said in a mocking voice, swivelling towards him. You? Afraid?
I'll do what I have to, Carali growled, angered now and not for anything wanting to be thought a coward. But with no warriors or Princes around I prefer to take my orders from common sense, not from you. Especially since common sense keeps telling me to dismiss anything you say as insanity!
She suddenly looked a bit hurt. Thank you so much, Carali, she whispered. So go back to the Phantom and cower, if it's what common sense tells you to do. I'm going to find that Kandrona. She turned to run off down the corridor.
He saw the madness of that and leapt up in front of her. No, you're not.
Minalea stopped and glared at him. Carali, I'm not going to accept you telling me what to do. Let's make that perfectly clear. Worst scenario, I'll be forced to call in backup and have Larynia chop you into a neat pile of spare limbs, but before it comes to that… she lowered her gaze with a shudder, and when she raised it fear was in her eyes. Well, as you said yourself, I'll do what I have to, but I'm not exactly thrilled about doing this – alone.
What? he taunted, echoing her own words, pleased at a chance to do so. You? Afraid?
Adults and Princes and Captains and the likes of them don't scare me, she stated, flicking her tail. Getting yelled at I'm used to – I can handle it. But Controllers… and… being infested…
And yet you plan to go directly to the depth of their nest and wreck the Kandrona? he said. They'll be more than a little angry, you know. Infesting you would probably be the kindest thing they'd do.
I figure that if the Kandrona goes, the Yeerks go. she flicked her tail again; a stalk glanced at him. Are you coming or not?
Carali felt something stir in his mind at the pleading tone that was hidden under the casual words. The picture he'd built up of Minalea was someone who was – basically – too carefree to be afraid, always wearing that eternal grin and busy snickering over her latest mischief. So different from now; the grin was gone and the look of seriousness in her eyes could have caused him to mistake her for someone else. And, he suddenly noticed, she was very pretty when she wasn't folded double with giggles.
Can't say I am. But can't say I'd let anyone go alone, either. You claim you can handle angering adults and Princes – but not Controllers. Then how are you going to go about this?
I see it as a sabotage mission, Minalea explained, forcing a pale grin. Sabotage I can do.
Carali thought that over. At that last point, she was probably correct. And she was correct stating that if the Kandrona was destroyed, the Yeerks would follow. And, again, correct in realising that she wouldn't be able to handle that mission on her own – she was probably the least skilled tail-fighter he'd ever seen, to put it mildly. And this would probably require some tail-fighting.
I'll go with you, he agreed finally. She let out a relieved sigh, but he continued; A few conditions. Firstly, we have Olana locate the thing instead of searching blindly for it. Secondly, we bring the others. Thirdly – and most importantly – you'll have to promise to quit putting up trip wires everywhere.
At the last one, Minalea's expression turned pained. Oh, no, she said, seemingly forgetting herself and dropping into open thought-speech. Oh, no, it's not worth that much. Then I'd rather go alone. But to have Olana locate the Kandrona –
Suddenly, a third thought-speech voice spoke. It would be unwise to start searching Kandronas. It is, by now, built into the ship and you would be unable to reach it unless you plan to take the entire ship apart, piece by piece. Do not fool yourself into believing the Yeerks would not adapt a captured ship to fit their purposes. They always have, and always will.
Carali's stalks swept around, tail flying up, but he saw nothing and no-one. Where – who?
Ailur-Derun-Kalifar, War Prince, fighter pilot and stationed on the SwiftHoof, said the voice, remarkably calm, but more bitter than hariil roots. I am in one of the aristh quarters, my tail and hands secured to the walls and my head shackled down to the edge of the pool network installed in these rooms. Highly uncomfortably, if I may say so myself. And you?
Carali prepared a reply, but Minalea was faster. We are arisths. That is all you need to know.
The other aristh gave her a look, eyebrows raised in respect. Again she surprised him – it was good that she remembered to leave out their names… although, he realised, highly disrespectful. She could at least have used the War-Prince's title!
But Ailur did not seem to mind. Arisths, if that is what you prefer. I truly wish you do not suffer the same fate as I have, and order you to use any means to avoid it. This ship is doomed, and so are any who are on it. I advice you to leave.
How do we know you are not lying? Minalea wondered suspiciously. You could be infested, and trick us, and we would never known until it was too late.
Correct. You cannot be sure, and therefore I will give no direct orders. But if you do escape, I beg you to warn the fleet. I am the highest commanding officer on this ship – not counting the tactical and first officers, who are both infested at this time – and you can notify any friendly ship you meet that they are at their full right to blast this ship into oblivion at sight, including every crewmember on it.
What about the Captain? Carali wondered softly.
The Captain is not a morphable and no use as a host, due to… disabilities. Ailur's tone of voice indicated that generally, he would have thought that a serious drawback, but in this case had decided to overlook it. He is in a room in the other end of this ship, heavily guarded, but considering the Yeerks' habits of feeding him – or more properly not feeding him – I fear for his life. I am confident that he would agree to my orders.
Which room are you in, War Prince? Carali asked, looking around.
Do not waste time searching… Ailur pleaded. I feel my Yeerk already returning. Flee while you can.
Which room? Minalea demanded, seeming determined to do something to help the Andalites on the SwiftHoof, be it freeing a War Prince or destroying the Kandrona.
I told you… not to waste… time. For me, it is too late. The War Prince's voice was strained, as though he spoke with great difficulty, but he managed to raise it as he roared; Now GO!
Both arisths jolted into motion and where running, side by side, before they knew what was happening.
While the humans were gone, Sira'aki spent her time going through their supplies, chatting with JaLa'an, keeping an eye on LuRi'il, or simply keeping an eye out for dangers.
She was not worried about KEdi'ir. Firstly, she knew he might be hurt, but not killed – except if by accident. And accidents could happen whether she was near or not. Secondly, she trusted the human cer y'yhan, Rachel, to look after the child.
But she was worried about their packs. It had started to rain heavily, and if their food was drenched it would be destroyed. They could always steal more, in the worst case, but Sira'aki knew how hard it was to grow crops and avoided stealing from someone else if at all possible.
She and JaLa'an debated in low whispers how long the rain would be likely to last, and what could be done about it.
"It will last one day, maybe more," LuRi'il, having overheard them, said lowly.
Sira'aki turned to the prisoner. As usual the Touched had cast her eyes down, refusing to meet her gaze, as if she was ashamed of her eyes. She should be – they glowed the same intense green as that of all who were foolish enough to accept the One's Touch. She, Sira'aki, had rebelled. She'd paid dearly for it, losing her parents and siblings and friends and the entire village where she grew up in one, giant blow, but it had all been worth it.
She had a new family now. New friends. A new village.
A flash of green as the Touched glanced up briefly. She was much more reserved when cer Rachel was not near – perhaps she had noticed that the cer y'yhan was not so strict concerning the captive's manners. With only Kelbird around, she fell back to the natural way of things.
"It is the later part of the warm season here on Dina'amm," she informed them. "The rain will last at least a few hours. I suggest you find shelter – for yourselves and the packs."
"And you?" JaLa'an wondered, ears turned to the prisoner. "You do not need shelter?"
"A prisoner needs but what the captors offer," LuRi'il replied simply.
"If that is your opinion you shall be sheltered," JaLa'an said, and his ears leaned outwards in a smile.
"You have my gratitude. Concerning the packs, may I suggest you tie them in hollows?"
JaLa'an and Sira'aki exchanged a glance. Finally, Sira'aki said; "Show us."
LuRi'il agreed with a twitch of her ears, already rising, gently lifting up a pack and right after that she leapt up into a tree. Sira'aki whipped her horns around a branch and swung herself after the prisoner. She would not risk the Touched escaping. She heard JaLa'an doing the same, landing with his large claws and one wrist blade anchored deeply in the bark of the stem, from where he had a good view of the Touched.
LuRi'il took a long, thin branch in one hand, put her wrist blade just under the surface of the bark and cut a long slice, that curled neatly around her wrist as it came free. The prisoner, her horns rendered useless by the thin chains that still held them, for a moment pondered how to hold the pack but finally placed it on the branch next to her. Then she secured her claws in the thick bark, and folded down so she was practically hanging under the branch. She stabbed her wrist blade straight into the lower side of the branch and as she wrenched it free it left a long, deep cut.
It took some work, but when she was finished there was a neat hollow under the branch – not deep enough to seriously harm the tree, especially not when you considered that the branch was more than an arm's length thick – but enough to hold the pack. LuRi'il used the bark she had cut to tie the pack in place in the hollow and swung her way back to the top of the branch.
"A hollow," she explained. "A Dina'amm habit."
JaLa'an's tail twitched approval as he leapt down to the ground to fetch another pack. Sira'aki did the same, and with LuRi'il helping all the packs were soon safe.
The three gathered on a thick branch, near the stem, all miserably wet and beginning to feel cold.
"Unfortunately we have no shelter to offer you," JaLa'an said to LuRi'il. "And it is unlikely we shall find any."
LuRi'il did not seem bothered. "No matter. Rain does not kill. Although sometimes it kills crops, and then we starve."
Sira'aki leaned back against the stem. The natural fear of water all Kelbrid shared did not, fortunately, apply to rain, but there was something distinctly uncomfortable with being draped in the cold liquid. The sound of it falling on the leaves and branches above and around her was strangely soothing, but having it running down her face, into her eyes and mouth, was only annoying.
"Have you always lived on Dina'amm?" she asked.
"No," LuRi'il said. "Only since the birth of my daughter."
"You have a daughter?" Sira'aki wondered, one mother's curiosity to another taking over.
"Yes. Ni'ilu. She is not yet Touched – but I fear she will be, in only a few days. There is to be a ceremony, and if they decree her to be of age…"
'They'. The Priests of the Whole. Led by the High Quarteer, who was said to be the most powerful Kelbrid Touched ever to live. His word was law. His wish was supreme. His will was the same as that of the One.
The worst part was, he might even believe the fairytale himself. Really, he was no more than a puppet, like the rest of them, leaping when the One said "jump".
Sira'aki felt a sneer of contempt cross her face. Then the meaning of LuRi'il's words broke through and she realised what Ni'ilu – who would lose her name in the process – would face.
"She does not know of Arnaha?" JaLa'an asked, seeking to meet the prisoner's gaze.
LuRi'il looked away, this time in grief, fixing her brightly glowing eyes on her hands. "I had a chance of… saving her. But… informing you of Arnaha… it had to come first, before anything; the freedom of all Kelbrid comes before the freedom of… one…" her voice faltered, and when she forced it back it was very shrill. "…one child. So now, I cannot help her. And no-one else will."
Sira'aki felt something colder than rain clutching at her mind and heart. She must admit that the prisoner had a bolder psyche than herself. Perhaps being a Touched had forced that upon LuRi'il, but Sira'aki still admired it; feared it. What could drive a mother to put her child as only her second priority?
She herself could never turn so from KEdi'ir. The thought chilled her to her bones, made her horns quiver. She would never have been able to do what LuRi'il had done.
Never.
She was lost in thought for a moment, trusting JaLa'an to keep guard, expecting no dangers. LuRi'il said nothing more; neither did anyone else. The rain rustled in leaves and branches around them. Otherwise, the silence was complete.
Sira'aki would curse herself for it afterwards, but she did not notice the shudder that passed through LuRi'il. She did not notice when the Touched's eyes were slowly raised, quickly glancing around as if she had not yet seen what was around her.
She noticed when the prisoner let out a sudden cry of fury and leapt up from her place, horns struggling to break free from their chains and wrist blades already flashing towards Sira'aki's face.
At once Sira'aki flew up, realising what had happened, and – being too close to use her horns – raised her own wrist blades, partly freeing her claws from the bark to allow her to move more quickly but not let her fall.
She was quick, but not quick enough.
The green glow in LuRi'il's pupils suddenly disappeared, replaced by a glazed-over expression that Sira'aki knew all too well.
With a fluid, well-practiced motion, JaLa'an drew his wrist blade out of LuRi'il's neck and let the body fall limply down, from the branch and to the ground below. It landed face-down in the mud. JaLa'an turned his eyes forwards to meet Sira'aki's.
"You need to be more alert, Sira'aki Li'iKel's daughter, or you will find yourself killed," he said in a low voice, but more than slightly reprimanding.
Sira'aki nodded, face expressionless. "Yes. I noticed."
Jake felt the rain starting to drip heavily on his tiger shoulders, and with incredible swiftness it had drenched him and his companions in cold water. His fur lay plastered to his skin, a shade darker than usual, and felt heavy. The ground quickly turned from more or less dry forest floor to an endless pool of mud; mud that stained his paws and legs and belly and even face.
And the worst part was, the rain made it hard to see anything, made it impossible to hear if anyone approached, and completely erased any sense of smell. The smells carried in the air were struck to the ground with the water and nothing reached Jake's nose except the scents of wetness, mud, and rain.
The expedition took a turn to the worse. Everyone was wet, muddy and generally miserable. Every step was hard, since they were forced to battle the sticky mud to free their feet, paws, or hooves. But for some reason, (which was more or less obvious) the only one complaining was Marco.
"Could you just shut up?" Rachel finally growled at him, glaring in his general direction with her blind eyes. She had wrapped her arms around herself, shivering, and Jake was a bit worried that she might catch a cold, running around as she was in this weather, with clothes that were not exactly suitable. Her shoes, to begin with, were no more than the simple but sturdy fabric the Kelbird also used to make packs, wrapped several layers around her feet, and by then they were probably too wet and mud-stained to be of any use. It had not improved her temper.
Her hair, though, (for the same strange reason as always before, Jake supposed) stayed perfectly in place. And there was not a single mud-stain above her ankles.
Can, yes. But will, no, Marco replied. He drew a hand across his face to wipe away the rainwater. The result was that the water was just replaced by the mud from his knuckles. Jake, this is not part of my contract! Hunting Yeerks, yeah, sure, and being almost killed by Kelbird, fine. Strange food, okay, and different planets, hey, no problem. But mud! And rain! I hate rain!
What are you going to do? Jeanne snapped. Call your lawyers?
I'm thoroughly considering it.
And tell them what? Your best friend and leader in more than three years of war is breaking his end of the deal by letting water drop down on you?
Marco glared at her with intense, black gorilla eyes.
You're not the only one troubled by the rain, Jake said.
Oh, of course not, Marco agreed amiably. I suppose our Fearless Leader also gets his fur wet. He's just too mighty, great and powerful to care. But I'm not half as mighty, great and powerful –
"Have you taken a good look at your morph, lately, Marco?" Rachel wondered innocently.
– as you are and I have no obligation whatsoever to play the self-sacrificing hero. I hate rain, and I'm going to let you know it.
Figures, Jeanne sighed.
"Rain is the least of our troubles," Rachel muttered suddenly. From the way her voice was tense, lowered, the others caught the warning and gathered closer to listen. "There are Touched up ahead. Kelbrid – in the trees. Probably waiting for someone to try to pass; they're guarding. Tom says they form a very wide circle."
You don't form a circle of guards around air, Marco reasoned, suddenly deciding to ignore the rain.
Our ship, perhaps, Menderash said in thought-speech, limping up to join the rest of them. His mouth was a thin, stubborn line; he seemed to believe that if he opened it it'd fill with water. Andalites knew so little about mouths.
Possible, Tobias agreed. The question is if we find out what, or we go around them.
Jake? Santorelli said questioningly.
We want to get past them, Jake decided, after some thought. Rach? Any ideas?
Rachel grinned. "Of course. Same one as I've used a couple of times before. I send Tom to cause some mayhem and provide a distraction, and we simply sneak past when they're busy."
And what about Tom? Jeanne wondered.
"He'll be fine. He'll catch up when he's finished playing with the Touched."
You sure it works? Marco said, blinking at Rachel through the rain.
"Never failed me yet."
You know, they could have said the same thing about the Titanic.
"The Titanic was a machine. Tom is a kii-raja."
And that's supposed to reassure me because…?
It's as good a plan as any, Jake stated, before the two started gibbering too much. And the rain will provide all the extra cover we need. He nodded towards Rachel. Send him in.
Rachel gave Tom a short order and a set of gestures, followed by words. The beast watched her intently, then glanced around at the group as if to evaluate how safe it was to leave Rachel with them. Rachel made another – more strict – gesture and Tom slunk away, tail whipping from side to side behind him.
Now what? Santorelli asked.
"He'll inform me when it's safe."
Which must have happened a few moment later, for Rachel said "go", and the group hurried forwards. They hurried past a dead Kelbrid further in among the trees, his chest adorned by a line of stab wounds – from the spikes on Tom's back, most likely – and eyes staring emptily at the rain falling into them. His companions lay spread out in among the trees.
"Another job well done," Rachel mumbled proudly as they passed the corpses. Without Tom near, Tobias had taken over the task of showing her their surroundings.
As long as he doesn't turn on us, that's all I'm saying, Marco muttered.
He'd never do that, Jeanne said. Would he, Rach? I mean, he's the sweetest little angel to ever walk on four legs…
Marco's face grew dark. Not an easy thing to do, considering that he was a gorilla and his face was already black.
"I must admit," Menderash said, scanning around them, maybe wishing he had his stalks. "That your beast, human, is effective. And well trained."
Jeanne beamed at him. Tobias glared suspiciously with a stalk, while Rachel shrugged, indifferent to the former Andalite's opinion.
There it is, Jake announced suddenly. The Rachel.
The trees in the area had been burned away – probably with dracons – to make room for their cruiser.
And not far beyond it is the Blade ship, Jeanne added.
Marco peered into the rain, which made it impossible to see the trees behind the Rachel, and turned anything further away to a grey mist. You can see it?
Above the trees, dummy. What else is huge, black, and looks nasty?
Marco looked up. Just as Jeanne had said, a large black shadow loomed over the trees. Oh. he sighed. What now?
Best to get closer first, Santorelli advised, and Jake gave a nod with his tiger head. They moved forwards with all the stealth they could summon and halted by the last standing bushes and trees, hopefully well hidden.
I count nine guards, Tobias said. All Hork-Bajir. Patrolling. We can take them out one by one.
Jake scanned the artificially burned-forth glade and noted where the Hork-Bajir were located. Okay, here's the plan. Santorelli, the one to the right, and the one behind him. Close enough, you should be able to notice them, despite the rain. Marco, the one halfway between us and the ship – and the one by the door, he'll come to help his friend. Jeanne? By the trees, further away. He'll be the one to run for help, so he's an important one. You'll need to chase him. Tobias, take the two to the left, and I'll go after the two by the front. Menderash, as soon as Marco's cleared the road, you go for the door and get our ship ready for takeoff so we can leave. Understood?
There was a set of 'yes's and nods. But Rachel crossed her arms angrily across her chest.
"And what about me?" she snapped. "And KEdi'ir?"
You, Rachel, are going to keep KEdi'ir with you while Tom's away and wait here until it's safe.
Rachel looked as if she might attempt strangling her cousin with her bare hands, be he in tiger morph or not.
Jake noticed that. And if you don't agree, I'll have Marco hang you over his shoulder and keep an eye on you.
Rachel's gaze went from poisonous to murderous. Marco laughed in thought-speech. You know, that I can do anyway…
Rachel's anger found a new target. She swivelled towards Marco, fists clenched and eyes flashing. "If Tom comes back while you've got me over your shoulder, kicking and screaming, you won't be keeping that shoulder. Or your life."
So no kicking and screaming, Jake ordered calmly, although Marco seemed slightly unsettled. Stay here, Rachel. Do the rest of you remember what to do?
Another set of 'yes's and nods.
Rachel? You'll do as your told?
Rachel said a very rude word but nodded. Dismissing the others, she turned to KEdi'ir and began speaking in Kelbird.
Tobias took her hand and gave it a light squeeze. Do as Jake asks, he murmured privately, softly touching her lips with the fingertips of his other hand.
Rachel pulled away, yanked her hand free and shook her head. "Once again, Tobias; I'm blind, not helpless," she whispered in response.
No-one'll argue about that one, he assured her.
Jake had been close enough to hear her comment and now said; I know how you feel, Rachel. But personally, I'd rather have you helpless and alive than blind and dead.
Technically, she is blind and dead, Marco snickered.
Shut up, Marco, Jeanne snapped. This is not the time for your stupid remarks.
Marco made a mocking gorilla bow towards the panther. If it pleases my lady.
I don't know about your lady, Marco, but your Fearless Leader would be pleased to see this show started, Jake said. So on three. One, two, three!
Jake sped out of cover and towards the front of the Rachel where the two Hork-Bajir waited. Another two spotted him and turned to help their friends, but Santorelli's rhino put an effective end to that, as Marco cleared the route straight up to the Rachel with his giant gorilla fists. Menderash sprinted out of cover as well as he could with his wounded leg and up toward the Rachel's door. Jeanne was pursuing the ninth Hork-Bajir, who – as anticipated – was trying to get away to fetch backup. And Tobias's tail was whipping, too fast for the eye to see, at the chests, throats and faced of the two enemies he had before him.
The last Hork-Bajir finally slipped in the mud and Jeanne's claws and teeth made sure he wouldn't be getting back up. Rachel and KEdi'ir were quick to come out from their hiding place, just as Menderash reached the door to their cruiser.
The others were gathering around, but Santorelli was tossing his rhino head from side to side, nervous, and Jake seemed to agree, muttering about too easy.
Menderash's hand went up to the door – and through it. His eyes went wide. "Hologram!" he cried, and took a quick step back.
Suddenly a Kelbrid arm swept through what had seemed to be the Rachel's hull and the wrist blade struck Menderash's shoulder, continuing down his arm and leaving a long, deep gash. The nothlit fell back, hand grabbing at the sudden wound, teeth slamming together to stop the roar his pride would not allow him, and Jake leapt forwards to meet the attacker.
The hologram disappeared… to reveal more Kelbird than any of them could hope to handle. Jake came to a skidding halt in the mud, but snarled warning and didn't back away. Before anyone could think of something to do, the Kelbird had spread out and formed a circle around them. They drew together to a tight huddle in the centre.
A Kelbrid Touched stepped forwards and watched them all with intense, calculating, green-pupilled eyes. Finally, he turned away, flicking his horns. "Ka'arik ti'em."
Rachel? Jeanne said, slightly nervous. What did he say?
"He said 'kill them'," Rachel growled, hand stretched out for a Tom that wasn't there. She jerked her hand back and clenched her fists determinately. But her head was turning quickly from side to side to listen for sounds, nervous, the lack of sight obviously bothering her.
Tobias took a step closer, taking her hand as if to comfort her. His tail was well raised and ready to strike. Water ran from the blade, dripping down on his back and shoulders. Rachel squeezed his fingers.
And the Touched began advancing.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Author's Note;
…and that's the last chapter.
Bwahahaha!
No, really. More later. I've barely come half-way so far, so… well, if anyone feels it's a bit long, then let me remind you of my past notes; "If you want to skip this series because it's too long, now would be a good time." That was chapter eight. So don't say I didn't warn you.
Anyway, congratulate me, cause this just passed the Time Matrix Chronicles in length. *does silly dance of joy* That story might not have been my longest creation, but it's close. And this one seems to be aiming for twice that. *winces*
Ah, well, better get back to writing.