The Waiver 11
"What should I transmit, Sir?"

I looked at the floor for a moment to clear my thoughts.

"Say . . . we will exchange information. Ask if we are the first ship to pass this area. In exchange, tell them that the Federation searches the galaxy to . . . um . . ."

Realizing I was out of my league, I motioned for Marco to step up to the plate.

"You were almost there, big guy. Here we go. We search the galaxy for civilized peoples to add to our alliance of peace. The stronger nations of the federation aid the weaker. Transmit that."

"Transmitting . . . Sir? The signal seems to be breaking up. It is becoming . . . mixed with another tranmission. It would seem that something is trying to interfere."

"The third planet's radiation?"

Menderash almost laughed. "Oh, you're serious? I thought that was a human joke. Captain, it takes intelligent life to this THIS sort of jamming."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, can you hold it?"

Menderash looked insulted. "Of course, Sir." He looked to his panel.

"We're getting a response-"

WAH-BOOM!

The bridge shook and lights dimmed. Sparks began flying from a nearby panel and the viewscreen dimmed.

A piece of the control panel shot through the air, and I dropped to the floor, narrowly avoiding decapitation.

A diplay unit overhead cracked, tipped and dropped . . . On Jeanne.

When the rumbling stopped and the deck became horizontal again, I leapt to my feet. "What the f- What was that!"

Marco coughed and slowly stood up, holding his lower back. "Their response."

Menderash crawled into the pilot's seat. I noticed a nasty-looking gash on his arm.

"Sir, something was fired at us from planet four. It seems to be . . . a missile, Sir. Gas propelled."

I was stunned. A gas-propelled missile? I felt like Goliath must have when he was smacked with a rock. If our shields weren't down that missile would have done a thousandth of the damage visible on the bridge. I cringed thinking of how some other, more vunerable, parts of the ship must've looked.

Marco jumped up and burst into a rant. "What the hell's the matter with these people! We offered to enrich their lives with fast food, Richard Simmons and frisbee. What do we get in return? They try to blow us up! Now if I was in charge of this bottle rocket we call a ship-"

I tuned out his voice and concentrated on the matter at hand.

"Raise the shields and cut the communications line." I gritted. They wanted to play and I was ready for them.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Cassie kneeling by Jeanne's head.

She looked at Santorelli. "Give me your shirt, quick! I have to stop the bleeding." Santorelli quickly complied, then stood there helpless as Cassie started tearing it into strips.

I waited for as long as I could bear, then addressed Cassie, impatiently.

"Well? How's she doing?"

Cassie looked up and shook her head, unable to answer. Marco spoke for her. "Don't worry, big Jake. She's just unconscious. All we have to do is wait for her to wake up and tell her to morph." He was trying to reassure me and everyone on the ship knew why.

For some reason, them knowing made me enraged. Not at them, but these 'Blue'.

"They think they're top dog with a missile? Menderash, let's show themreal firepower. Track the trajectory of that last missile and tell me the point of origin."

This finally caught Cassie's attention. "Jake, what are you doing? You can't just fire randomly, there might be citizens down there."

I shook my head. "I'm aiming for wherever that missile came from. We'll only get the people responsi-"

"Not possible, Captain."

I blinked and turned to Menderash. I tried to control my voice as much as possible, as I always do when I'm ready to hurt something. The result is this low, soothing sound.

"Excuse me? Why. The hell. Not?"

"It seems that our weapon's tracking system is down, Sir."

I raised an eyebrow. "And you're telling me now?"

He shrugged. "You didn't ask for a damage report."

If Andalite ships actually run like this, it's a wonder they stayed alive long enough to make it to Earth.

I guess I must have muttered that aloud, because the humans on deck were all giving me amused looks and Menderash looked as if he wished he still had a nice, sharp tail blade to impale me on. I decided to just use the Andalite way out. "No offense meant to the Fleet, of course."

"Of course." Menderash growled out his response.

I stared at the dead viewscreen. "So what CAN we do?"

"Now?" Menderash hesitated. " . . . hope to slow our decent."

Okay, fine he wins.

"Damage report!" I snapped.

Menderash quickly complied, speaking a little faster than usual.

"We have lost weapons tracking, water recyclation, aft Stablizers and all engine functions. Thus, we are unable to maintain orbit and are rapidly approaching the surface of planet four."

"Oh great, another 'thus-er'." Marco mumbled, then dabbed his fingers on his tongue and started rubbing at a little blood spot on his arm.

I nodded. "Thank you. Now can you suggest something to do about it?"

Menderash blinked. "Well, reverse thrusters, obviously."

I gave him a calm and polite smile, okay, so it was more like I bared my teeth menacingly, "Would you do that, please?"

For some reason, my smiling jolted Menderash more than my yelling, because he spun around in his chair and began punching buttons at a furious pace.

"I- it won't hold. We will be experiencing a hard impact landing."

Marco eyeballed Menderash. "We're going to crash on a planet full of schizophrenics? Oh, great."

"Menderash? For now on, whenever you think that I, being the simple human I am, might not know all the ships capabilities and crew commands, make a suggestion, okay?"

"In that case, Sir, may I suggest materializing the cloak?"

"Yes, please. Do that. Now."

I shook my head. Why did they fire on us? It made no sense. And now we had no choice but to try and hold on until-

"Wait, maybe that's it."

Marco looked up with hope. "You know how to keep us from falling?"

"No, we're still screwed." Marco's face fell. "But I think I figured out why they fired at us. They knew we were too close to the planet. A well-aimed rocket and we're ground-bound."

Marco scoffed. "Don't try to be the smart one, Jake, you'll just hurt yourself. Leave it to a trained professional." He shrugged when I gave him a dirty look. "Think about it, why all the 'Let's be buddies' talk? There's no reason for it. My guess is whatever they 'need help' from probably doesn't want us involved and tried to blow us out of the water."

"Well, thatwould explain the signal jam."

Meanwhile, the ship was still hurtling towards the planet as Marco and I calmly discussed the motives of the Blue.

Well, it's not like we could see it on the viewscreen. And the gravitational compensators made it feel like we were standing still. Menderash and Santorelli were the only ones who looked nervous.

Menderash, because he was watching our altitude drop on the monitors. And Santorelli, because he had never been in a spaceship crash before. This was cake. I was just happy there were no Sario Rips around.

"By angling the ship, I think I will be able to make a flatter surface against the atmosphere and help the thrusters slow our decent. Just another suggestion, Sir." He said, using his human eyes to make an Andalite smirk.

"Well, let's just hope it works."

End of Chapter 11

Reviewer's Response:

Phillip (Triple Point) Walker: So . . . what's your THIRD point? (wiggles eyebrows
suggestively)... cough ANYWAYS, I think you might see some of your influence in this
next chapter. Thanx for the idea. See? This is why I need a beta, Phil.

ChocalteKitty(no, that is NOT a typo, this is how her name is spelled): mmmmm . . . reviewer-y.

ChocalteKitty(again): How about 'stupendous', 'magnificent' or my personal favorite: Ficaliscious?
Thanks for reviewing, new person!

RaspberryGirl: Hey, how's it going! All right, you'll SEE, I'm telling you! (Oh boy, with this
much build-up my next chappie better be . . . ficaliscious. Thanks for the compliment, Rasp.

Dysphoria: Hmmph, like I'm going to promote KA's books any more by RE-TELLING them, lol. Thanks.

Rachel9466: OUR Marco! Uh-UH. MY Marco. He my man! (actually, I'm gay, so he's all yours . . .
but I still get to walk him and take him to the park)