"Dad, can I ask you something?" Jen asked her father, Adam Carson. It was just after Jen's third year in high school. Jen had gotten good grades in that year (not all straight As, of course, but the lowest grade that she got in third year was a flat B), and Jen was now preparing to ask her father about a promise that he had made to her during the school year. Jen was standing as straight as she possibly could while at the same time rocking on the balls of her feet because, even though we have established in an earlier chapter that Jen is really spoiled by her parents, what she was about to ask for was something much more than French fries or a toy or even a cellphone.

"Sure, what is it, Jen?" her father asked back. He was working on what Jen's memories told me were the family's income and expenses.

(All right, Jen, this is it,) I told her. (You've opened the conversation yourself. There's no more backing out of this.)

(I know, Yems,) she replied. (I'm just trying to choose the right words to say.) I could see Jen running through numerous scenarios in her mind on how this ask could possibly turn out. Some of them were more likely to happen than others, and there were a few scenarios that were so outlandish and outrageous at the same time that there was no way that Jen could surely think that about her father. Finally, she settled on a plan of action that she thought would be the best for this particular situation, and she made sure that the object in her hands was behind her and well hidden from Adam's sight and then she made her ask.

"Okay, so Dad," Jen opened, "you said that if I got good grades in school, and if I managed to pass the driver's test and get my license, you would buy me a car, any car of my choice, right?"

"Yes, that's true, so long as it's within reason," Adam replied, still engrossed in the balance sheets. "I mean, obviously I'm not going to buy you a Lamborghini or a Rolls Royce; we just can't afford that, especially not in this recession. But as long as it fits the budget, sure, maybe we can do that. How were your grades again?"

"Come on, Dad, you already know my grades," Jen replied with a nervous smile. "I got an A plus in English, A flats in Science and History, and my only B is in Math. I mean, you know me and math, Dad. Anything beyond addition, subtraction, multiplication and division is like an alien language to me. I mean, alien languages might actually be easier for me to understand because of Yemra!"

(I could do it, you know,) I told Jen. (I can teach you Galard or Yeerkish whenever you want.)

(Maybe later. But not now.)

"And besides, why are you asking me about this, Jen?" Adam asked. "It's not like you've already got your license from the mail."

"Uh, Dad, actually…" Jen trailed off, and then she held up her driver's license in front of her. Adam had to look at us twice before it registered to him that his daughter was holding up her first ever driver's license for him to see.

Adam stood up and took the license in his hands to examine it. "Is this real?" he asked. "You're not trying to fake me into buying you a car, are you?"

"Come on, Dad! You really think I would do that to you?" Jen asked back. "Just think about it, Dad. If I'm going to make a fake driver's license to show to you, sure as hell I'm not going to use that picture of me!" To be perfectly honest, the picture that was on Jen's driver's license is far from the best shot of her that she has, but then again the cameras at the local DMV have, according to Jen and her friends, a strange and uncanny ability to mess up the photos of regular people. "I'll even show you the envelope that this came in if you like," Jen continued.

"All right, Jen, I believe you," Adam finally replied after a few moments. "We'll get you your car tomorrow. Let me just finish accounting for the family expenses and then we'll go get the car you want first thing tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Jen said, who was still in a little bit of a state of shock because she had not expected this particular conversation to go so easily like this. "You said first thing tomorrow, Dad. I heard it. Yemra heard it. Don't forget about it."

"Don't worry, Jen, I never forget," her father said with a smile, and then he went back to his tax returns. Outwardly, Jen was calm, collected, stoic, but as we walked back to her room, her mind exploded into an endless squealing of glee. Jen had barely closed the door to her room before she finally let loose and began squealing excitedly out loud. "Oh my God, I can't believe it! I can't believe it!" she said out loud. "I'm finally gonna get a car! I'm gonna get my dream car!"

(Jen, you are seriously not calling that car your dream car, are you?) I asked her in a tone that was both curious and worried at the same time.

"Yems, you know that it's my car!" Jen replied to me out loud. Such was her excitement that she couldn't just keep it in her mind; Jen had to proclaim it for the whole world to hear. "You've known that since the first time we saw that car driving past that car lot on the way to school. I already told you that it's going to be my car. If any car is going to be my first car, it's going to be that car."

(But why does it have to be that particular car? Why can't it just have been like any other car?)

"I don't know, Yems, I can't really explain it, you know?" Jen replied as she plopped down on her bed. "You must have seen it, felt what I felt."

(I'm not disputing that you felt some sort of attraction to that car. But once again, why does it have to be that car?) I asked.

"I already told you, I don't know. Maybe it's like what they say about your true love. Just one look and you know that he's the one. And I know that I want that car to be mine."

(If you're dead set on having that car then all right. I don't look like I can talk you out of it anytime soon, or ever at all. I just wonder if it's still there, though. I wonder if someone felt the same way as you when you saw it and already bought it.)

"Oh, come on, girl! Why do you have to bring a girl down like that?" Jen asked me with both physical and mental furrowed eyebrows. I gave her a mental shrug and a teasing smile (or more accurately the troll face smile although I don't think either the troll face or any other of those "rage faces" or "memes" were already around back then, but then again I could be wrong about that).

Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough for Jen. During summer time, Jen usually wakes up at ten in the morning or later but for this day, she was already up and running at eight, and she and Adam were finally on the road by nine. I believe that Adam could tell that Jen already had a particular car in mind so he let her be the navigator, leading him to the used car lot on the road to the inner city, and then finally we arrived there. Jen directed Adam to the far edge of the lot, where we had last seen Jen's dream ride when we last passed by here. (Come on, please be there, please be there,) Jen repeated over and over. I didn't say anything because if it turned out that the car was no longer there, Jen would have probably thrown a hissy fit and I would have laughed at her a little about it. (Jen: You're damn right I would have thrown a hissy fit if the car wasn't there! You know how long I've always wanted that car!)

Finally, Jen saw the car that she had always wanted parked in front of a row of other cars, and she grabbed hold of her father's wrist and physically dragged him over to where the car was. When they got there, Jen let go and then stood behind the car and spread her arms wide. "Tada!" she said. "What do you think about her, Dad?"

"Jen, is this seriously the car that you want?" Adam asked. For me, the look on his face was more towards mild surprise and wonderment, but for Jen that look on his face was more disappointed than wondering about his daughter's choice of car.

The car in question was a Ford Crown Victoria, but not just any old Crown Victoria. This particular Crown Vic was of the Police Interceptor variety, meaning that it was for all intents and purposes a police car. Sure, it didn't look like a regular police car (this particular CVPI was painted a dark red or maroon as opposed to the standard black and white paint job that you would expect of a police car) but there was a metallic bumper in front of the car that definitely gave the impression of a cop car. In fact, Jen believes that this CVPI was an undercover cop car, the kind of car that police would drive around on patrol so as not to arouse the suspicion that a marked cop car would elicit. In later years, Jen would come to tell me that the fact that the Crown Vic used to be a cop car was one of the major deciding factors in her wanting to have the Crown Vic as her first car, but at that particular moment I think it's safe to say that both Jen's father and I thought that she was crazy for wanting a used cop car.

"Don't she look great, Dad?" Jen asked with a wide and beaming smile on her face. It was the kind of sweet, charming and disarming smile that was almost impossible to say no to, and it was a smile that Jen had practiced and used on both her father and mother to great effect to get what she wanted (if she was deserving of it, of course). And it wasn't just Jen's smile that she had in her arsenal; Jen knew how to use her eyes in conjunction with her smile to disarm anyone in order to get her way. And she was using both of those to full effect to convince her father to buy her this particular car.

I saw the very momentary hesitation passing through Adam's mind as he pondered on making the choice to buy the car or not. It was only a very momentary hesitation as Adam was the more indulgent between Jen's parents, and the more supportive. Adam was the one who had encouraged Jen to go into soccer since he had been a soccer player himself in his teenage years, and he was also more likely to give Jen what she wanted although of course this would be after some discussion with Jen's mom, Eve. Adam was also the one who took my entry into the Carson family in stride, but that was also probably because any and every question he would have probably had, Eve had already asked Jen and I. Finally, eventually, Adam just shook his head in resignation and said, "So how much does this cost?"

"Oh, I'm sure you can afford it, Dad," Jen said coyly, still flashing that smile of hers. Inside her mind though, she was already jumping for joy and shouting victoriously. (I'm gonna get my car! I'm gonna get my car!) she repeated over and over in her head.

(All right, you got your dream car, Jen,) I said. (I think everyone gets the point.)

Back in the outside world, the owner and manager of the used car lot, an old white-haired black man named Big Al, walked over to the Crown Vic. "So Jen finally got you to cough up the cash, didn't she, Adam?" he asked Jen's dad.

"So you know Jen's after this car?" Adam asked in reply.

"I mean, your little girl has been scoping this CVPI out almost every chance that she gets," Big Al replied. "In fact, I'm surprised it actually took Jen this long to drag you over here and see the car for yourself, what with you spoiling her and everything. Look at her, Adam. She's practically chomping at the bit to get behind the wheel and drive this thing outta here. I remember the day I got my first car. I was just like Jen, all smiles and eager, waiting for the opportunity to final drive that Bel Air." The conversation between Adam and Big Al about their respective first cars served as a backdrop as they also haggled over the price of the Crown Vic. Meanwhile, all sorts of plans and ideas were already forming in Jen's mind as the prospect of her becoming the new owner of this Crown Vic came ever closer to becoming a reality. (I am so gonna prank my friends with this,) Jen told me. (I'm gonna roll up on their driveways and make them feel like they're under surveillance. I might even prank both Sonia and Carina by driving this to school and then telling both of them "ICE is here for you two!")

Needless to say, that was one of the most memorable summers Jen and I ever had, and it wasn't even just because of Jen's pranking of her friends with her car. Jen even let me drive the Crown Vic a few times, which was a fun experience in and of itself because I had learned to drive alongside Jen (Mallory knew how to drive but had neither the vehicle nor the opportunity to drive herself around, so I wasn't able to acquire Mallory's knowledge of driving).

Driving Jen's car has brought back memories of when I was first assigned to Bug fighter duty. Training to fly a Bug fighter took nine Earth months, and six of those months were spent in simulators going through all of the possible battle scenarios that we could possibly face, ranging from simple skirmishes between lone Andalite fighters to actual large-scale battles against an Andalite war fleet. The rest of the training was all about learning about how Bug fighters work because, on the off chance that our fighter gets lost and crashes into a hostile planet or at the very least, a planet that isn't under the control of the Yeerk Empire, it would be very beneficial for both Yeerk and host if they could survive on said planet until help could arrive.

When I passed through (or graduated or whatever the correct term is) Bug fighter pilot training, it actually took me one more month before I was finally assigned to a Bug fighter since the production of said Bug fighters couldn't keep up with the Yeerk Imperial Forces' demand, but eventually I got a Bug fighter of my own. I was in a Hork-Bajir host at the time (her name escapes me at the moment, although I do remember that she was a female Hork-Bajir) and I was partnered with Gershi One-Five-Five of the Hym Horreb Pool, who was in a Taxxon at the time. We came from different pools (I came from Zek Danet and Gershi came from Hym Horreb) and Gershi was from an older generation that me, but the two of us formed an immediate friendship. You could say that we had nothing at all in common except for the fact that we were both Yeerks, but we both became friends anyway. In human terms, you could say that Gershi and I were the perfect pilot and wingman. Of course, I wouldn't say that we were actually perfect as the word "perfect" itself would imply, but Gershi and I had this mental connection that everyone talks about but no one could accurately describe or put into words.

I wouldn't bring up my time as a Bug fighter for nothing, though. I remember this one time when Gershi and I were out on patrol on what could be considered as a neutral or demilitarized zone between the Yeerk Empire and the Skrit Na. We weren't expecting any trouble over in our little spot of space at all because the Skrit Na were neutral in terms of their diplomatic relations with us. Gershi and I had taken the opportunity to let our hair down, so to speak (because neither Hork-Bajir nor Taxxons have hair) and talk about the daily matters of our life in the Empire, and inevitably the conversation turned to the matter of what would happen once we finally found that Class Five species that the Vissers and the Council of Thirteen always claimed would finally carry us to victory over the Andalites.

"Imagine if we did find that Class Five species," I said to Gershi (we were both speaking in Galard, but I have decided to translate the conversation to English as best as I could). "What if it turns out that their brains, their minds are like an Andalite's? What if this species, once we infest them, protest to our presence in their heads? I cannot say anything at all for the Andalites since I have never been inside the head of one or even touched the mind of one, but the Hork-Bajir! Their minds may be simpler than that of an Andalite but I have heard that a lot of them have been very resistant to us infesting them. Even my host complains about my presence in her mind from time to time, and yet there is nothing I can do about it because the Empire tells us that it is our birthright to force ourselves into the heads of every sapient species out there to establish our species as the best one there is." (Of course the discussion was much less civil than that but for the purposes of brevity, I have cut out as much of the unimportant chatter as possible.)

"Wouldn't it be much simpler if all other species out there had minds just like the Gedd or the Taxxons?" Gershi said (or shrieked and hissed because of Taxxon biology). "The Gedd are a simple-minded species, let's admit it. Their minds are right on the edge between sentience and sapience. They are aware that they are and they also know what they are. The Taxxons, meanwhile, are so driven and motivated by their hunger that it is practically the only thing that they can think about were it not for us. Wouldn't conquering the galaxy be much easier if everyone else were just like the Gedd and Taxxons?"

This was one of the few moments when Yeerks could discuss openly about matters that would be considered taboo or at the very least sensitive around Imperial ears. I know for a fact that other Yeerks think this stuff but they are all too afraid to say anything to anyone else because of the long arm of the law that could see anyone saying that the Empire might never find a Class Five species at all sentenced to death by slow Kandrona starvation for treasonous thoughts. I have also seen Vissers and sub-Vissers execute subordinates on the spot just because said subordinate disagreed with said Visser or sub-Visser's orders. Life in the Yeerk Empire was very much cutthroat, and it was actually a wonder that it has managed to survive as long as it did. You would think that the Vissers and sub-Vissers would have eliminated all of their subordinates long before they found Earth.

The fact that we regular and ordinary Yeerks could talk about these "treasonous" thoughts inside our Bug fighters never came up in the minds of our commanders. They never thought about trying to capture recordings of Bug fighter pilots talking, something that would most probably come as a shock to humans who have become used to living in such a technologically intrusive society where everything anyone says can be heard by anyone else without choice for race or creed. It was during these conversations with Gershi that I came to realize that there might be others like me who believe that maybe we Yeerks don't have to force ourselves into the heads of other species, that maybe enslavement is not the only way for Yeerks to expand the reach of our species. And it was because of Gershi that I eventually came upon the Yeerk Peace Movement once we had initiated our secret invasion of Earth.

I would like to say that this was the point in my story where Gershi and I accidentally stumbled upon an Andalite war fleet gathering for an offensive on the Nahara homeworld, but that wasn't what happened. That happened on another patrol altogether. Gershi and I completed this patrol where we had talked about the possibility that a Class Five species would have a mind like an Andalite's without incident, and we returned to our squadron's base in orbit over the Taxxon homeworld like the loyal soldiers of the Empire that we were.

Once again I must confess that I do not know where Gershi One-Five-Five has ended up, but I can say with certainty that the last time that I saw him was when he and his human host were reassigned off of Earth in the year before the Animorphs and the Andalites finally put the Yeerk invasion of Earth to an end. If ever I shall see him again then I would like to extend him a "thank you" for showing me that there are other Yeerks who believe or at least give voice to the same thoughts and feelings that I do.

A/N: Once again I would like to apologize if this chapter seems a bit disjointed and hops around at times. I am working on streamlining my thoughts and plot lines so that they are cleaner overall. As always, feel free to leave a review with your thoughts on the chapter and if you want to keep up to date, follow or favorite this story. And if you want to keep updated on all of my stories, follow and/or favorite me as an author as well. Cheers! - GR