Yes! The long awaited continuation! No I'm not dead and please don't sic your paintball team on me!
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Doolittle Home, Colorado Springs, Colorado, USA
"Ahh," George Doolittle sighed as he entered the front door of his house. "Good to be home." By sheer luck, JDI Headquarters had been established at a facility near his home in Colorado Springs. That meant he could come home to his family every night instead of only seeing them on leave.
"Welcome home, George," said the female voice of the Computerized Home Automation Network. "Can I get you anything?"
"Not now, CHAN, I'm good. Any mail?"
"You received a campaign flyer from the Halley 2152 presidential campaign, a Wal-Mart advertising circular, a notification that you have a credit card payment due in 30 days, an offer to save hundreds on your vehicle insurance, your son's high school report card, and an invitation to Robert E. Lee High School's Class of 2117 thirty-five year reunion," the computer replied.
"Reunion'll have to wait," muttered Doolittle under his breath. Who organized a class reunion during an interstellar war? He bet it was Susan Venan; she always had been obsessive about organizing events.
As Doolittle walked toward the kitchen where his wife would be making dinner, he passed his son Chris doing homework in the study. "You're report card came today, Chris. Am I going to be pleased?"
Chris looked up from the datatablet he was studying. "I hope so," he replied. "All As except for History; I got a B in that."
"That's great," said George, entering the room. "So what are you studying now?"
"History."
"Ah, I see. Always the perfectionist." Doolittle looked at the datatablet. It was displaying the chapter on the Yeerk War. George read a snippet.
It has since been estimated that approximately 10 million people were hosts during the height of Yeerk infestation. Over 9.6 million of the human-Controllers were in the United States, and over 75 of those were based in Southern California. In addition, by the end of the war there were approximately 850,000 alien-Controllers (including Hork-Bajir, Taxxon, and Gedd) and 2.3 million unhosted Yeerks on Earth or in orbit. After the war ended, it was discovered that another 12 million unhosted Yeerks were enroute to Earth in anticipation of human surrender and enslavement.
"That's pretty depressing stuff," Doolittle told his son.
"Yeah, but it's pretty interesting," Chris replied. "They got a bunch of first hand accounts from former Controllers after the war and the adjustments they had to go through."
"Well, don't kill yourself studying," Doolittle said, ruffling his son's hair. It was dark brown just like George's, but was curly like the boy's mother's. At 16, Chris didn't have to worry about getting drafted if a bad ground war with the Andalites happened.
George continued to the kitchen, where his wife was preparing dinner. Lisa Doolittle was a short woman with short curly black hair and brown eyes that seemed to always give the impression that she would burst out laughing any second. She did have a sense of humor, but she could be very, deadly, serious. She also had a strong will belying her short stature, a will that George was occasionally at odds with.
"Hey, Hon, whatcha making?" George said as he entered, peering over her shoulder at the stove.
"Chili," replied his wife. "Extra-spicy, just the way you like it. And there's jalapeño cornbread in the oven."
"Mmmhmmm, just like momma in Odessa makes. Dear, you spoil me."
"I figure I need to feed you right, not like that slop they serve on base," Lisa replied.
"Aww, come on, the food on base isn't that bad," said George. "Though the lemon-pepper chicken today was a slightly strange color."
Lisa made a face at him. "Sit down, you; I'm dishing it up. CHAN? Will you please tell Chris dinner's ready?"
"Of course, Lisa," the house replied.
Before George could sit down at the table, though, the telescreen buzzed, indicating a call. Doolittle sighed. "CHAN, will you get that? I don't want to upgrade my web service. 500 Tbps is fast enough."
There was a pause, and then CHAN spoke up. "George, it's a Lieutenant Colonel Henry Hammond. He says it's urgent."
Sighing, George got up. "I'll take it in my office."
Arriving at the room, Doolittle was greeted by the baby face of Lieutenant Colonel Henry Hammond, an officer with U.S. Military Intelligence, on the wall's viewscreen. "Yes, Colonel?" Doolittle said, a little irritated. Why did they always call during dinner?
"Sorry to bother you at home, sir, but, umm… Is this a secure connection?"
Doolittle didn't think the Andalites could monitor transmissions and communications from 50 thousand light years away, but he entered his secure code into a keypad on his desk anyway. "It is now. Now what is it?"
"I'll get right to the point, sir" said Hammond, seeming to see the admiral didn't feel like talking. "We've received reports from one of our spooks on the Andalite home world that the 'Lites are initiating a plan to send teams of spies and saboteurs to Earth."
"And so?" Doolittle said indifferently. "We're always worried about Andalite infiltration."
"I know, sir, and I know that precautions are always being taken, but there's one other thing you need to know."
"Yes?"
"The Andalites are considering placing one senator on the team that-"
Doolittle cut him off. "A senator? As a spy? Are the blue-butts that desperate?"
"Well, sir," Hammond went on. "This senator was raised on Earth for the first 25 years of her life. We fear that if she morphs human she'll blend in perfectly.
Doolittle grunted. "I see. Well, I don't know what I can do about it at this point, but I'll see. Out." The colonel saluted as he signed off.
Doolittle paced the office. Hammond's report had worried him more than he let on. There were almost always certain mannerisms, certain quirks, that people could use to distinguish an Andalite in human-morph, but if this senator had as extensive knowledge of human culture as Hammond had claimed, she could hid those distinguishing factors. And she could teach others to do the same.
There went a nice dinner with the family. Doolittle sat down at his desk; he had work to do.
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Office of General Xiao Li, Chinese High Command, Beijing, China
General Xiao Li sat at his desk, working furiously on a plan to present to Admiral Doolittle. Right after the meeting at Cheyenne Mountain, he had taken a scramjet back to Beijing to work on his plan. His brow furrowed with concentration as he sat calculating logistics and movements. His desk was covered with papers, some with elaborate, computer generated diagrams, others covered with crude shorthand. His north wallscreens were showing human resources and manpower compared with that of the Andalites. His west wallscreens were showing maps of the Andalite home system and diagrams of that system's asteroid belt and fourth planet, a gas giant. On his desk monitor was a diagram of the Harvest system, but periodically he would change it to show other human worlds. The holographic projector in the center of the room displayed a slowly spinning image of the Andalite home world.
This was it, with this plan Li would finally get back at those blue bastards. They had killed his son years ago, and now he was going to get his.
It had been a routine inspection of the Yeerk quarantine. With their fleet decimated, the Yeerks had been confined to their homeworld, and an Alliance quarantine had been established to make sure the slugs never got off it again. Li and his son, a fighter pilot and a colonel in the Chinese Space Forces, were being given a tour of the Andalite quarantine fleet along with several other officers from Earth. Li and his son were in a shuttle, along with several other humans and a brash Andalite senator, going from the Dome ship BattleTail to the quarantine flagship, the Aximili. The shuttle was just out of the Dome ship's bay when something; an asteroid, a solar flare, something, had struck the BattleTail's Z-space engines in a freak accident. The engines went critical, destroying the Dome ship and creating a surge that damaged the shuttle and sent it crashing to the planet below. Li had lost consciousness just as the craft impacted, sure he was going to die.
Li had awoken up to see that a large conduit had gone through his leg and that the Andalite was already awake, crawling around the crash site with his two back legs broken. The other humans, except for his son, were dead. Li's son was pinned between the ground and large piece of the shuttle's hull, with a fragment of the hull sticking out of his chest. He had been in bad shape, but he could have survived, Li was sure of it! However, when the Andalite rescue team had landed, they were sure that the colonel was as good as dead, and over Li's loud objections, they had left him.
Thanks to the Andalites, the general's son had died needlessly on the Yeerk homeworld. He could never forgive them for that. Now, he had a way to get back at them.
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Elfangor Military Spaceport, Andalite Homeworld
Senator Rasgan looked through the window into the chamber where Duria was instructing a group of warriors on the finer points of human culture. Though he couldn't hear her, she looked exasperated. Rasgan chuckled. Good.
The infiltration mission had been given a go, though it wasn't yet confirmed if Duria would be on it. Rasgan was ardently pushing for the placement of the senator on the team, citing an increased chance for success. In reality, he didn't really care if the mission succeeded or failed; he just wanted Duria out of his way, and sending her on a possible suicide mission seemed a good way to do it.
Yes, Senator, Rasgan thought. If I can get you out of the way, no one will oppose me bringing the full force of the Andalites to bear against the humans. You've been a thorn in my side far too long, Duria, you Andalilte filth.
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Yes! Another cliffhanger! This time though, I plan to have my next update sooner than 5 months from now!