Jacob Nyles:

Damn it. I prowled the little cage they had me in, and watched the little gray bastard yammering at me. Their computer wasn't working. I sneered at them and laughed, "Go to hell."

((Perhaps not the wisest comment)) Esplin hissed tightly, after I was done reeling from the Dracon shot to my gut.

((Skrit Na love deals. Perhaps we could trade something with them?)) Esplin wondered.

"What do you suggest?" I asked, ignoring the captain.

((Secrets, the encryption to their computer, the encryption on the bug fighter's main computer, buried treasure… anything like that)) Esplin replied wryly. I got the feeling she didn't think too highly of Skrit Na.

"Captain, I would like to make a deal," I said calmly. To my surprise, the bastard immediately shut up for a moment, then tilted his head.

"Deal, yeerk-friend?" he asked cautiously.

I nodded, "Obviously I should not have tried to commandeer your craft, friend, but I was on a mission to retrieve an artifact crucial to our war effort against the Andalites. I humbly request, from one captain to another, that you aid me in this venture."

"Artifact? Describe," the captain demanded.

I slowly shook my head, "I cannot do that, friend. I would not wish you killed, to ensure its security."

The captain slowly lowered his dracon beam, and I saw greed in those black eyes.

"We will aid yeerk-friend. Tell us, where we go?"

((Coordinates, please)) I prompted. Esplin thought quickly, then began to spew off a string of numbers. I just repeated them.

((I hope that's not the coordinates for a sun, or black hole)) I quipped.

Esplin didn't answer me at first. ((Right?)) I asked.

((It's the location of a sun)) Esplin admitted, ((your sun.))

((What?!)) I demanded.

Esplin 1894:

((You revealed the location of Earth! To those, those… people snatchers!)) Jacob roared, his fury cowing me, an almost painful assault.

((They've been to Earth before, where do you think those movies you remember came from?!)) I said defensively.

((Oh)) The fury disappeared, as if it never was.

((Besides, there are things worse than the Skrit Na on your planet)) I pointed out.

A moment later I wished I hadn't said anything. Jacob's pain was my pain, his joy was my joy… I could blame him for my addiction to human emotion, but that isn't completely true. There are… other reasons.

((How do we get out of this cage?)) Jacob asked.

((How are they going to fly the ship?)) I countered.

((Oh…. Gotcha))

"Friend, do I need to rescind my lockouts in your fine ship's computer?" Jacob asked.

((()))

In Jacob's words: I'll be damned. They fell for it. All three of the Na were present, with Dracon beams pointed squarely at us.

((Don't do anything until we're on the bridge, or on the way back. Be passive and agreeable. Let them lower their guard)) I counseled.

Jacob didn't listen to me. When we reached the ladder to the next level, the Na were clumped around us. One behind, and one on either side. Jacob leaned over, to fit into the small opening, and struck. His left foot snapped out behind him, blindly kicking a Na with excessive force, and his arms shot out, as if for balance, his fists impacting with the skulls of the Na. When he straightened both Na on Jacob's flanks collapsed. Jacob quickly snapped the necks of the unconscious aliens, wary of being outnumbered. Jacob turned to the Na he had kicked. It was the captain, I recognized. Jacob's kick had broken most of the Na's ribcage. Jacob looked it in the eye.

"My name is Jacob Nyles, and no one puts me in a cage." He twisted, and the Na's head hung loose on its neck.

"The ship is ours, my dear Esplin," Jacob observed jovially.

((Where to?)) I asked.

"Home," Jacob said.

((Home)) I agreed.

That word.

It held so much meaning to Jacob.

I was born in the Sulp Nair pool, but it was not my home.

I grew up in a mobile tank, aboard a miserably small supply ship.

That was not my home.

I have no home.

I wanted a home though. I wanted this beautiful thing that Jacob held in his heart, this thing called home. A yeerk does not belong anywhere. We impose, we deform the places we go, making those places for us. But we do not belong. I wondered idly, if that was why we had to expand. We were searching for a home. Driven to fight and war, to find that missing piece called home… the thing our enemies seemed to possess, yet withheld from us. My introspection was broken by Jacob's mental elbow nudge, "Mind doing your magic on the computer?" he let go of his arms even before I could ask.

I accessed the computer, and plugged in the coordinates for Sol, Earth's sun. I deftly piloted us up out of the atmosphere, and weaved through the asteroids. Our shields were stronger than a bug fighter's (old as they might be) and the asteroids posed little threat to us.

"Esplin. Look." Jacob told me softly. He gazed at the thick atmosphere of the planet we had escaped, as the small blue dwarf began to "rise." It seemed to ignite the swirling gases into a kaleidoscope of sapphires and shapes, perfectly back lit in their entire staggering array.

Jacob held the door for me, as I entered into his mind, and I stood with him, to look through his eyes. I saw the beauty. I saw.

Jacob Nyles:

An alarm is going off somewhere. Why does something go wrong only after I finally manage to fall asleep?

((Hurry)) Esplin urged.

"Fine. Look, I'm walking faster now, happy?" I snarled. Guiltily I broke into a run. "Sorry." I muttered.

((You are always cranky when you are roused. It is expected of children)) Esplin replied in a surprisingly snarky tone.

"Touché," I conceded, still grumpy.

The consoles are screaming in the bridge, and I let Esplin use my head and arms.

"Our Z-space vector is decaying," she told me, worried, through my mouth. My eyes darted, and fingers danced across the controls.

"The Skrit Na's Z-space drive is a piece of stolen Hawjabran shit," she cursed. That got my attention. Esplin almost never swore. She reserved harsh language for situations that warranted it, like a miserly soldier on his last pistol clip.

((That's bad?)) I asked.

"It's worse than bad, it's fucking shitty bad," Esplin told me.

Now I was veeery worried.

((How bad is it? And please, give it to me straight)) I asked quietly.

((The navigational computer and their Z-space drive are only barely compatible with each other. In addition, the Skrit Na are not firm believers in routine or preventative maintenance. They use things until they break, and then replace them, the Hawjabran Z-space drive is older than both of us put together)) Esplin told me, mind to mind for speed of communication.

((What are we doing to fix this?)) I asked. Stay objective, Jacob, we can get out of this, I told myself firmly. I almost believed it too.

My fingers continued to fly across the touch screens and controls as my yeerk tried to keep us alive.

((I'm trying to stabilize our trajectory enough so that we can fall out of Z-space in such a way that keeps the ship relatively intact, and not reduce us to interstellar dust. I'm having limited success trying to reroute the stabilizers, since the programming languages of the different compressors don't quite match up to the jury-rigged interface)) Esplin told me breathlessly.

I'd been awake for exactly three minutes. Sometimes, my life really sucks.

Esplin silently seconded my opinion.

Esplin 1894:

I was glad that Jacob knew so little about computers. It was good to be needed, to have something to offer. I might not have value to him, but my skills did. It took me seven minutes to finally reconfigure the failing drive to align long enough to "safely" drop us out of Z-space. The compensators failed, naturally, no doubt stolen from some orbital junkyard, and everything inside the ship ended up getting shaken like (to borrow another phrase from Jacob) beans in a pod. As such, we picked up a nice set of bruises all over our body, and a sore knee.

But we were alive.

"Uh, so, we're not stranded or anything, right?" Jacob asked me nervously.

((We might be seconds away from exploding.)) I laughed bitterly, ((This computer can't tell me shit. None of the systems are talking to each other.))

"So let's use the ol' mark one eyeball," Jacob suggested wryly.

It wasn't as bad as I feared.

It was worse.

((The Z-space drive's inversion motivator is slag)) I said with disgust, probing cautiously at the Skrit Na's little monster with a piece of insulated piping. Jacob squinted at the sparking rat's nest of cables that connected the disparate components of the Z-space drive into the Skrit Na's ship. I recognized most of the parts, but some of them weren't even meant to be used in the ways they'd been incorporated. He jiggled the human flashlight he'd found in the shaken detritus of the bridge a little higher, illuminating the cramped crawl space a little better for me.

"Hey, isn't that a carburetor, from a human car?" Jacob asked, startled, pointing the light at the flux shielding that surrounded the ionic converter.

((Yes)) I said shortly.

"So, this inversion motivator, how critical is it? Can we bypass it or something?" Jacob asked.

((I can bypass it in less than a minute)) I told him darkly.

"Then what's the problem?" Jacob asked, wary.

((We'd jump to Z-space in pieces)) I explained coldly.

"Ah. That would be bad. Don't bypass the inversion motivator," Jacob decided.

I continued to chew on the problem. Most of the Z-space drive-from-hell was intact… just missing that one part. I didn't know how to jury rig another part to act like it, because I didn't really know how it worked; exactly, only what its function was. I'm one of the brightest scientists the Yeerk Empire has ever produced… in xeno-genetics. I only had a basic education in Z-space theory and mechanics.

While I'd been stewing, Jacob had also been thinking.

"The Skrit Na have our bugfighter…" he started. I'd already considered that angle, and told him as much.

"What else is in the cargo hold? Maybe there's some useful junk down there too," Jacob argued.

((Fine. The sooner we wade through the garbage, the better)) I sneered.

Jacob started down towards the cargo bay, and I stirred uneasily. ((I… I should not have discarded your idea out of hand)) I started awkwardly.

"Apology accepted," Jacob told me, "Besides, you get pissy when you don't have control. It's expected of children." He grinned, and I sensed that he'd been sitting on that for a while, trying to figure out how to use that line on me.

I rolled my proverbial eyes. Humans.

((()))

We spent the better part of three hours trying to search through the jumbled cargo hold. The Skrit Na weren't big believers in cargo straps. The hold was a mess. Jacob nearly had a heart attack when he realized that the floor was sticky because he was crawling over the squished body of a Skrit. That was half an hour ago, and Jacob's mind kept jumping back to that every few minutes, and a new shiver of revulsion would jiggle down our spine.

((You really don't like bugs)) I noted wryly.

Jacob shrugged, unable to deny it, or laugh it off like he'd done in high school. Jacob didn't even know why they "creeped" him out so badly. I offered to investigate in his early child hood memories, but Jacob quickly declined, wanting nothing to do with it. I'd wait until he was sleeping, I decided. Curiosity is a terrible thing.

"Alright, I give. There's nothing in this junk we can use," Jacob admitted, tired. We'd had less than two hours of sleep over the last three days.

((Sleep would be nice. We're in the middle of literally nothing, deep space)) I pointed out.

"I want to look at the bug fighter," Jacob said stubbornly.

((Sleep)) I said simply. Our body was nearing its limits.

"Fine, one vote for sleep, one vote for searching the bug fighter. Tie breaker goes to me. We're searching the bug fighter," Jacob smugly replied.

I sighed, but what was I going to do exactly? I couldn't sleep until he did.

((Fine)) I knew he was probably right, but still. We were tired, damn it!

((()))

The bug fighter hadn't been damaged anymore than it had been already, which was saying something. All of the loose bits and pieces from our… jury rigging… on the planet had flown all over the interior of the fighter making our footing treacherous.

((Stop!)) I shouted, and Jacob froze, ((Don't step there! We took the access panel off from that section!))

Jacob grimaced ruefully, and placed his foot to the side, avoiding the hidden compartment, filled with exposed circuitry and other delicate powered components.

"Thanks," he muttered.

((If you electrocute yourself, I die too)) I reminded him.

"So, this inversion motivator, how does it keep us from jumping to Z-space in pieces?" Jacob asked, strangely motivated.

((I'm… not quite sure how it does it, only that it creates a… resonance, of sorts that… well, it somehow let's Z-space know what we're supposed to be shaped like, so when we translate over into Z-space, our shape isn't altered randomly))

"Wait a second, that sounds kind of like the Transporters off Star Trek. Kind of like a… pattern buffer, but for the whole ship, not just a person?" Jacob asked.

I accessed the memories he was referring to. In the fictional show, the pattern buffer stored the "pattern" of the object being disintegrated, and then reintegrated elsewhere, following the pattern. Like a human fax machine, of sorts.

((I suppose, broadly, it is the same principle)) I hedged.

"How was the bug fighter's Z-space drive broken again?" Jacob asked. I laughed in his head, ((It's gone, along with the port engine and thruster assembly))

"Ackk-fuck-shit-damn!" Jacob yelped, when a Skrit silently brushed past us from behind, in the dark. Our heart was beating very fast, and cold, spiky adrenaline was surging through us. It inspected a piece of our bug fighter, than rapidly disassembled it, and removed several components.

"What's it doing?" Jacob asked suspiciously. I held my breath though.

((I… I'm not sure, but I think it's carrying out repairs on the ship)) I whispered.

((()))

"So the cockroaches are the engineers?!" Jacob demanded, watching the Skrit deftly remove the slagged inversion motivator, and wire in a discharge capacitor from the bugfighter's Dracon-cannon, connected in series to the flash shunt of the bug-fighter's ruined shielding array, and then, finally, used the bug fighter's starboard engine processing node matrix to coordinate the pieces. Apparently satisfied with its work, the Skrit trundled off, to repair some other part of the ship.

I had no idea how it worked, or even if it would work, not without running some diagnostics, and computer simulations. More importantly though, it was time to sleep.

((()))

Jacob was dreaming, and now was my chance to sift through his memories. I had barely dipped into them when I heard my name, in Jacob's dream. I hesitated. I could always look later, but his dream would not repeat… I had never really looked at Jacob's dreams before. They were too confusing, chaotic.

Jacob Nyles:

Have you ever had a dream, where you knew it was a dream?

I sat in a sandbox, with a brilliant red plastic shovel in my tiny, chubby hand. The sun shone down on me, a warm, gentle caress.

I was trying to build a sand castle, but no matter how hard I tried, or how fast I moved, I couldn't do it. The sand kept slumping, it was too dry, but I knew that if I tried harder, I could do it. I knew.

Then a cold shadow fell across me, blocking out the sun. I squinted, and looked up at the silhouette of a man. I shivered.

"You can't ignore me," the man said cruelly. I focused harder on the sand castle. I could make the bad man leave, I just had to focus.

"I'm a part of you now, you'll never escape," the man gloated softly in my ear.

I knew I couldn't fight him and win. I'd never beaten him.

"That little whisper in your heart, that desire to hurt others… that's me, but now, its you too. This is the price for freedom, little monkey. You have to carry a piece of me inside."

"No!" I shouted, instantly realizing my mistake. I had acknowledged his presence. The man smiled cruelly, even though he was little more than a black, shadowy shape, I could feel that smile.

"Yes," he said, and kicked me. I fell out of the sandbox, and into cold, clinging mud. I crawled to my feet, clutching the useless red shovel. The shadow advanced through the sudden rain and thunder.

"You are a monster now too, little monkey. In the end, you haven't won anything. You'll never be free of me," the shadow gloated.

"Shut up, Esplin!" I screamed, and flailed at the shadow. He was bigger. He was stronger. I was just a child.

The shadow-man pinned me to the ground with his knee, and rained punches on me, laughing. I couldn't win.

Sometimes, everyone needs some help. The whisper ran through my ears, a familiar voice. I didn't know who it was, but I knew that they were a friend.

"Help!" I shouted.

And everything changed.

I shoved the shadow man off, and stood, no longer a child. I had the strength of a man once more. The shovel in my hand was still brilliant red, but no longer plastic, or small. It was a real shovel. A real tool… or a weapon.

The rain and the thunder faltered for a moment, afraid.

I hefted the shovel in my hands, and bared my teeth at the shadow-man.

Strength is mere perception. The friend-voice told me, and I paused. I wanted to smack the shadow man into the ground, to grind him away, to kill him. I wanted… to erase him.

"I have a sand castle to build," I said, and the sun broke through the clouds, illuminating my task. I could smell cinnamon cookies on the gentle breeze.

I walked to the sand box, and jammed my shovel into the sand…

And this time, the sand did not crumble.

Esplin 1894:

I had not heard my name. I had heard my predecessor's name. I saw the remnant of my mentor as he tormented my Jacob. I tried to attack him, but I was not really there. Jacob was the one dreaming, and I had no direct control of that. He wouldn't let me. I don't know if it was conscious or not.

I stood by, powerless as the specter overpowered Jacob, who was a child, no more than six years old. Even then, Jacob fought. He fought when he could not win, as he always did. He refused to yield. Among all of his human weakness, his emotional volatility, a curious strength remained, enhanced by his weaknesses and faults. I edged closer, trying to name this strength. I had nothing to compare it to.

Jacob was tiring though, and I leaned down beside his head, "Let me help, Jacob, please. Let me in," I whispered.

"Help!" Jacob yelled. I had a moment, only a moment, to change something in Jacob's dream, before he would close down to me again. I could only change a single aspect…

I couldn't make the specter vanish, that was too complicated. The external environment had no direct impact on this. Perhaps a weapon? No… that would be too complicated too, and not of his dream. This had to be Jacob. I looked at Jacob, teeth bared in pain, but his eyes glinted with that stubborn defiance, his refusal to accept things as they were. He was always trying to change things…

I felt an idea tug at me. Could I? Yes. I could.

I touched his perceptions; You are a man, not a boy.

His perception shimmered, and I saw Jacob as I knew him. Strong, independent… things I could never be. I would forever be a parasite.

He threw off the specter, and stood, with a real shovel in his hands, and the desire to use it.

"Jacob, ignore him, he's only as strong as you believe him to be," I urged, and Jacob faltered.

"I have a sand castle to build," he decided, and the sun broke through the clouds, illuminating the sandbox. A breeze swept through the dream, washing away the rain, and the specter, with a scent familiar to Jacob, but unknown to me. He smiled, and had eyes only for the sandbox, using his big shovel to begin constructing a fortification of some kind.

I quietly stood on the edges, and watched Jacob dream.

Later I checked Jacob's child hood memories, when he left REM sleep. Jacob was afraid of spiders because his older brother used to tease him with a rubber spider on a string, when Jacob was two. I wasn't going to tell Jacob, because when Jacob was seven, his brother was hit by a car, and died. Although Jacob didn't realize it, his older brother, Eric, or at least Jacob's perception of who Eric was, had defined how Jacob grew up. Eric was Jacob's subconscious role model.

Jacob never gave up, because he had never seen Eric give up.

I buried the information deep, so that I wouldn't accidentally show it to Jacob in an unguarded moment. That which is known, can never be unknown… but a yeerk can deliberately misfile information in such a way that we essentially "forget."

When Jacob woke, he vaguely recalled the dream, but not the specifics. He was in a good mood though. Even the disgusting ration pellets didn't dampen his mood… much.

I ran the computer simulation (laughable as it was on such an ancient computer) but I found no fault with the machinery.

"I've been looking at this screen for the last thirty minutes," Jacob complained, "What's it telling us?"

((Well, if you would bother to learn galard, you wouldn't have to wait for me to translate for you. I hear the Andalites make neural implants for that)) I said, distracted.

"I have enough implants. What's it say?" Jacob growled.

((It says that the repairs will let us enter Z-space with an 89.78% chance of still being in one piece, and staying that way. The odds of us remaining intact though diminish roughly 3% every seventeen minutes.)) I said heavily.

"So, a short jump then," Jacob observed.

((Or a distress call, but I'd advise against it. Unlike your Star Trek, the only things that usually answer distress calls are scavengers, or predators))

"With our, limited choices, what can we reach?" Jacob asked me. I'd already drawn up and cross-correlated nearly two dozen star systems, balancing distance against the increasing likelihood of disintegration and death. I had narrowed the list down to two (which is what took most of the thirty minutes Jacob had complained about).

((Originally, the list had twenty-three systems on it. I eliminated all of the systems that were uninhabited, without resources, or had dangerous natural phenomena. That left only two systems))

"Okay. What systems?" Jacob asked impatiently.

((The first is BD-21379. The second planet from the sun is being used as a staging point by the Third Fleet of the Yeerk Empire, commanded by Visser Seven)) I said heavily.

"So… what's the other planet?" Jacob asked quietly.

I hesitated. The second planet was hardly better than the first…

((BG-21322)) I said, ((It has a fledgling Andalite research and reconnaissance outpost on the fifth planet. The yeerk empire is unaware of it, but this ship passed through that system several months ago, and detected the initial power signatures during the Andalite's construction of the outpost, before the stealth shielding was installed))

Jacob frowned, "It being an Andalite outpost isn't the only thing worrying you," he observed.

I shrugged one of Jacob's shoulders, ((If the Andalites detected the Skrit Na, then they might have abandoned construction on the outpost, and the system.))

"So it might be a one way trip…" Jacob frowned.

"The Skrit Na trade with the yeerks, could we infiltrate the staging area, posing as traders?" Jacob asked.

I shook his head, ((No, civilian craft are not permitted in that system, due to the ease with which Andalite guerillas could infiltrate the staging infrastructure. Only yeerk craft with proper clearance and security codes can approach the staging area without being annihilated out of hand.))

"So we have no chance, and half a chance for choices," Jacob said quietly, "Not really that hard of a decision, is it?"

((No, not really)) I agreed sadly.

"Do we have to make the jump now?" Jacob asked.

((No, but Z-space coordinates do shift, so sooner is better than later))

"If we're going to do this… lessons learned. I want to put a pack together, in case we have to bail from this ship in a hurry."

I considered that to be strangely pragmatic for Jacob, who was more inclined to let the chips fall where they may.

He combed the Skrit Na ship, mostly the cargo hold, grabbing loose bits and pieces that he thought might come in handy in a crisis. He had enough stuff to fill five suitcases.

((How are we going to carry all of this junk?)) I asked scathingly. We were strong, but not that strong.

"Patience," was all he told me.

The Skrit Na had a back-pack in the hold, a sad looking human canvas affair, with once gaudy colors. It was a bright pink Minnie-Mouse back pack, fit for a small child. Stains and splotches had discolored the original coloring, giving it a mottled appearance. For some reason, its dilapidated appearance saddened Jacob.

((That's not going to hold much)) I noted, less than helpful.

Jacob ignored me, and began carefully sifting through his junk pile. He kept only the lightest, most useful items.

-The battered human flashlight
-The dracon beam in the best condition
-The power cells from the other dracon beams.
-A knife of indeterminate origin
-The case of yeerk ration pellets
-Three bottles of purified water, from various sources
-A small set of hand tools (mostly Ongachian make)
-A thermal survival blanket (from the bug fighter)
-The memory crystal-chip from the bugfighter's computer
-A human Bic lighter, half empty
-A book of human matches, about two-thirds empty.
-Twenty meters of braided optical cable, which could easily double as a rope.
-The guts of a short range communication relay.
-A crude optical scanner, which could emulate a primitive telescope.
-And finally, rescued from beneath a bundle of mildewed human clothing: a dog-eared paper back book was added. I didn't see the title. That was wrapped in plastic.

((I believe the kitchen sink is still in the crew quarters. I'd hate to leave it)) I remarked sarcastically.

"Oh, I'd forgotten. I'll just grab that, shall I?" Jacob replied gratefully. I wanted to scream at him.

"Relax Esplin. I'm joking," Jacob told me, humor absent. Slowly, he took us to the bridge, at a pace suited to a funeral march, or one's own execution.

We stared at the navigation console for several minutes, thinking private thoughts.

Jacob spoke first, "Esplin… this is the first time we've had the choice of doing something dangerous or not, and well… in case our luck doesn't hold…"

I waited. His thoughts were too turbulent and scattered for me to get a picture of what he meant to say.

"I just want to say… in the last six years of hell, you're the closest thing to a friend I've had. Thank you," Jacob's voice caught, and I felt the edges of his need for a friend. The intensity of the need scared me.

((Well, in the first three months of captivity you dragged me into, I wished I'd never met you, Jacob Nyles. This last week has made me revise my opinion of you)) I said hesitantly.

"Oh? Hopefully for the better," Jacob muttered.

((You are impulsive, arrogant, headstrong, idealistic, naive, petty, ruthless, and annoying to the extreme… but I don't know what I'd do without you now)) I admitted.

"Um… okay. Kind of a blunt hammer approach there… but… thank you, Esplin," Jacob said, oddly touched.

((Now that we've bared our respective souls and said our last words, can we get this over with?)) I demanded.

Jacob laughed, "Fair enough. Do your thing, Esplin… and if we die, I'm going to hold you responsible. So no pressure."

I told him where he could put his "no pressure" and he laughed, right up until I jumped us into Z-space.

Then we were too busy for laughter.