My name is Jake.

Even bracing for impact, I wasn't really prepared for a collision. I guess in the heat of battle, nobody really can be. You just try to act as quickly as you can, before everything sinks in. Before you have time to regret.

But I felt the power of the Blade ship's detonation. Saw an afterimage burn in front of my eyes, brighter than Z-space had ever receded before me. There was a tremendous noise, and far beyond the crackling of the enemy's weapons, the rustling of something more distant and huge. Not quite the laughter of the Ellimist, or even the concentrated hatred of Crayak, whose taunting had haunted my nightmares for years. This was impersonal, without emotion or space. Just the slightest feeling that we were being watched—or were making changes as we fought our desperate battle.

I tore myself away from the image of the Blade ship, which had spiraled out of range, taking stock of my crew instead. "Are we all here?"

Marco's face lit up in spite of himself. "Yeah. We're all right."

"What was that?" asked Jeanne. It was a great question. I wished I had an answer.

"The Blade ship fired at close range," explained Menderash. "But we were moving too fast to bear the brunt of it."

"We were moving right at the thing," Marco said. "That takes a lot of luck."

"Can we fire on them from here?" I asked.

Santorelli explained, "It would take a few minutes for either of us to approach at sublight speeds, but we have the same 'they-outgun-us' issues as five minutes ago, I would think. And it would take longer to recharge the power."

I nodded. "Five minutes ago. Right. Tobias, need your eyes."

((Yeah?)) he called.

"Can you—I don't know, get a frame of reference on the stars around us? Make sure we haven't drifted too...far off-course."

((What do you mean 'off-course'? We found them, didn't we?))

"I know," I repeated. "I just—I don't see how they missed from that angle, unless we really reversed course somehow."

((If you say so.))

"Please?" I asked. "And Menderash, charge the engines. Be ready to hit them again, if we have to."

"Of course." Menderash scooted off, looking happy to have something to do. I couldn't blame him; we were so close, and he'd sacrificed so much just to have a chance at getting here.

((Sorry,)) said Tobias. ((I don't think I was paying very good attention to what things looked like before we got, uh, company. But this doesn't look the same at all, I don't have any reference points...))

"I understand," I said. "That's what I'm worried about."

"Maybe they could be draining power from the stars somehow?" Marco wondered. "Like in the movies. I dunno."

Jeanne was starting to fidget. "That would still require a near-instantaneous transfer of energy. If they had the ability to control that kind of power, why wouldn't they destroy us?"

Menderash shivered for a moment. "They don't want to kill us, do they? You heard the threat—to make us 'part of' itself. That's what they're saying they did to Aximili."

"But even if they had the power to, I don't know, cut through Z-Space faster than we can," Marco pointed out, "this location doesn't seem to suit them any better than us. What's their angle here?"

"This whole detour feels like an accident," I said. "Menderash, do you know about Sario Rips?"

((Oh, come on, said Tobias. ((Here?))

"Of course," Menderash said. "Given a concentrated detonation of force, a rupture in space-time can result in an immediate—transference—to another time or place. Considering the unknown technological capacity of the Blade Ship, I think it is reasonably likely that their explosion could produce these effects if they were uncontrolled."

Marco's eyes widened. "That almost made sense. Sounds like someone didn't get distracted by cute girls in Andalite physics class."

"Shut up," I said. "Do you know how to find out where or when we are?"

"As far as position goes, I'm no more accurate than the ship's computer."

"Not enough power for that," said Santorelli.

Menderash squinted at one of the monitors. "We need shields up or engines at full capacity if we want to charge it from this distance. And Prince Aximili is a natural time-reckoner, but I don't have any special knack for that. I'm sorry."

"Apologies later," I said, hoping to sound like I felt sure we were going to get out of this. "Has anyone been having any weird—flashbacks? Or—forwards, maybe? Visions of a fight that hasn't happened yet?"

We glanced around the ship in silence. Finally, Jeanne blurted, "No? Should I?"

"Not necessarily. If we've gone further than a day or two in either direction, we wouldn't expect them; if we have, it gives us more—room to work with in getting out of the rip, but we might have to take some risks. Right, Menderash?"

I looked over at him gravely, and he raised an eyebrow, impressed. "You really have been through a lot."

"Yeah, well. There're some things I remember that I'm not even sure Ax knows well enough to explain."

"Sorry," Marco interrupted, "but back to this problem; we're in the same position we were...recently, except with more space between us and them, and no sense of position. Do we want to try and boost weapons now?"

I looked around the room as if the unfamiliar surroundings would give me some inspiration, but we didn't have time to stall. "If we want to vote, let's vote. But my vote is for hitting them again, same way. Like you say, Menderash—if they had the ability to recharge and destroy us, they would have used it already. So if the reaction is going to throw them off balance, I think we might as well pick a strategy and stick with it." There would be second-guessers and regrets; there always were. There wasn't war without second and third and fiftieth thoughts. But we didn't have liberty to consider them in the moment. All we could do was try to keep struggling for one more day, for a galaxy with a little more freedom.

((Works for me,)) said Tobias. ((Can we get the computer to at least scan our position now, though, so we have a baseline just in case something weird happens again?))

Santorelli tapped at the controls. "I'm on it."

"If we breach their hull, what next?" Jeanne asked.

"Let me guess," said Marco, "it's one of those 'one step at a time' deals."

"Hey, if you've got something better, shoot," I said. It came out with more of an edge than I meant.

"It's all right. It's just—good to see you in your element. Even who-knows-where."

Menderash gave a small smile, his reactions still appearing slow in the human body.

"Brace for impact," I said. "Maximum Burn in three, two..."

This time, I felt a few more seconds of acceleration as we zoomed through the void. I tried to look at the others, drawing strength from them, but space battles were still new territory for me, and without morphs, it hardly felt like much of a battle at all.

And then the Blade ship was lighting up again, its weapons, or maybe some kind of defenses firing. We jolted, and again there was a keening noise as the Rachel got its bearings once more in real space.

((You heard it too?)) Tobias asked, and we nodded.

"Not again," I groaned. "One Sario Rip inside another?"

Menderash sighed. "It's theoretically conceivable. I would suspect that their weapons have some incomplete measure of control over the direction—maybe whether we're going forwards or backwards in time? Or within one star system, rather than outside it?"

"All right," Jeanne asked Santorelli, "What do the scans say?"

"Don't need 'em, do we?" asked Marco. "There's another ship out there."

We turned to the narrow pane. Drifting between us and the careening Blade ship, there was a round hub with several shafts protruding in various directions. Menderash swore under his breath. "I don't recognize the specifics, but that's a traditional Kelbrid style."

((Well, that means we're back where we started, isn't it?)) Tobias asked. ((Kelbrid space, not who-knows-where.))

"It means we're still trespassing. And maybe out of our own time, too. They might not know what to make of the Yeerks."

"So they won't recognize the Blade ship either," I pointed out. "Can we hail them?"

Santorelli squinted at his computer. "They're trying to signal us. Call sign Jaguar, Kelbrid ship Ferz-class."

"The Kelbrid have jaguars?" Marco asked.

Jeanne shrugged and gave him a thin smile. "Maybe we're in the future, and they've made contact with Earth cats."

"I was thinking of Earth cars."

What were the odds we'd go through a Sario Rip—no, two—and then an unknown alien shows up who just happens to know about my morph from another voyage through time? A form I couldn't even morph any more? Something was messed up. Maybe this was another nightmare of Crayak's, or I was being toyed with in the wrong decade by some other creature more powerful than I could imagine.

"Open comms," I said, "but let me handle this personally. The rest of you stay out of sight, and if there's any trouble, fire whatever we've got at thisthing. We'll deal with the Blade ship later."

Menderash' expression was stilted, unreadable, but he didn't sound thrilled. "Do you really think it wise?"

((It could be a trap,)) said Tobias. ((Lure us in where they have allies, then set us up for their mind games or whatever they're really here for.))

"Maybe you're right," I admitted. If it was a test of Crayak's, better to not take the risk of wasting real resources on it. "Hold fire, and be ready to ignore it and shoot the Blade ship if need be. But talk to these people first."

Facing the screen alone, I nervously patched in, telling myself that just shortly before—if that meant anything—I'd seen the mutilated face of my friend Ax. No trap could be worse than that.

Instead, I saw the old face of a human woman, who didn't seem to react to meeting another human in the midst of where and whenever we were. In fact, she even seemed to know why we were there. "Is this the Rachel?"

"Yes," I answered warily. "Who are you?"

"As I explained, the Jaguar is a repurposed Kelbrid ship. Some of our crew is Kelbrid but—amenable to the nature of this voyage."

"Okay. What nature?"

"I hope I seek similar ends as you do—a peaceful resolution to conflicts. And the confinement of weapons that would...threaten the galaxy."

"We have some friends on that Blade ship we need to rescue, if they're in any condition to be saved."

She nodded, and for the first time I saw who she reminded me of. Cassie's great-grandmother, who I'd eaten Thanksgiving with once before the war. She'd explained the history of the farm, never knowing we'd add a whole new chapter to it by using the barn as our base of operations for so many meetings. "Say you're able to do so. Are you able to take control of the ship? Deliver them back to their homeworlds?"

"Uh—" I broke off, glancing around the room.

((Menderash, nod if you can fly a Blade ship,)) Tobias silently thoughtspoke. ((Yeah, it shouldn't be too hard. Anyone who survives should know their home planet well enough to navigate back to, yeah?))

"Given enough...time," I trailed off vaguely. If the two jumps had canceled each other out, or close enough to it, then presumably we'd be all right. Otherwise, I wasn't sure.

"Very well. Then I suggest, for the safety of your own craft, you let me negotiate with this—threat, and hopefully subdue it. Should we succeed, of course, you'd be responsible for securing the ship and transporting any survivors."

"You think we're up to the challenge?"

She gave a slight shrug. "I have reason to believe your ship is as suited for the purpose as anything Kelbrid space is likely to provide."

((Jake,)) Tobias called again, ((you heard her say she had Kelbrid crew, right? This has to be some kind of trap, there can't be humans out here.))

It had to be. Or we'd gone far enough forward that humans and Kelbrid were working together anyway, they'd made peace somehow...

I stared at her expression, intense and half-familiar. I didn't want to ask any more questions, didn't want to give away the presence of my crew behind me. But if she knew about our ship already? "Sounds like a plan."

"Oh, come on," said Marco. "We're in the middle of who-knows-when, and you think the first human you see is suddenly trustworthy?"

"Again, I think anyone who could track us here could have already killed us if they wanted us," said Menderash.

Over the computer, the Jaguar's captain said, "Increase your channel frequency so you can hear us talk to the Blade ship. If anything goes wrong, get yourselves out."

Jeanne faced away from the screen. "We need to be able to attack again. If there really are multiple Sario Rips, staying close to their firepower is the only thing that can get us back."

"It's possible some of them have been having flashbacks, too," said Menderash. "Killing someone on board could collapse the timeline, but I'd just as soon not take the risk."

"Roger," I told the other ship, silently adjusting the keypanel until I could listen in.

But it was not a human voice that spoke at all; instead, an unfamiliar, tinny sound seemed to be hailing the Blade ship in Galard.

"Kelbrid," explained Menderash.

"I don't like the sound of that," said Jeanne.

"So what?" I asked. "You heard her—she said they had Kelbrid crew. Maybe we're in the future, somehow?" Or, I told myself, one of those bodies could have been a morph...

"Kelbrid, you claim?" thundered the intimidating specter that called itself The One. "I am the authority here in Kelbrid space, and I know where my loyalists tread. You do not come at my will."

A few moments after the Jaguar's representative spoke, the computer relayed translated text. Very well. But do you know what class of ship this is, exactly?

"Containing knickknacks from your cooperative ventures? Very touching. I will, of course, absorb them all."

It's a Kelbrid-class Time ship. It contains a weapon that I think you're hungry for. At heart, you're some kind of—energy, aren't you? You can detect the power source.

"That's immaterial, in both senses. Once I've incorporated you, I'll take the weapon for myself."

I don't think so. We Kelbrid don't trust strangers, you see, and this ship's automatic trajectory is set for the center of a star if nobody is alive to override manually. Come alone, and we won't harm you. Try anything funny, and you'll never lay your hands on the weapon.

There was a long silence. "Weapons charging?" I asked.

Marco smiled. "On it."

For a moment, I felt a burst of pain in my head, and then it vanished. I glanced up at the screen to see that the computer was automatically downloading a brief video file, sent from the Jaguar, and by the time it had completed, the Jaguar had disappeared, as if it had jumped into Z-Space—or been ripped through time again.

"What happened?" I yelled. "Can we follow it?"

Menderash looked downcast. "There's no way to track it."

"We can fire or attack on your word, however," Santorelli offered.

Jeanne nodded at the file. "Do we want to look at that first?"

((Is there any way it could be trying to get secure access to our computers?)) Tobias asked.

"After the other ship jumped away?" I asked. "I'd like to think not, but let's leave the shields up and be ready to fire on the Blade ship just in case. Computer, open file."

The computer opened it, and it was a simple video file of the woman who'd been talking with us. "I'm transferring this under the expectations that The One—the energy source underlying it, anyway, not the biological life-forms—has tried to seize this ship. The plan is to destroy both it and the Time Matrix." Remembering our side trips into medieval France, and then to the Revolutionary War, the gaps in my memory, I gasped. Behind me, I heard Marco curse.

"You'll be pleased to know," the tape went on, "that the effect of the rips has canceled out to put you about three months from after you met the Blade ship. The Jaguar, however, is traveling from about sixty years after that. By our—my time, the Time Matrix is getting a little bit of attention, and I think the best thing to do is to hide it somewhere where no civilization can get its hands on them. Human, Kelbrid, Andalite—whoever. Because it was common knowledge that the Rachel and her crew returned around this time, quarantining The One in the process—" I exhaled, hearing the others' shocked breathing around me, "I used the Time Matrix to explore different possible futures and considered this the highest-probability chance to make sure neither of them cause trouble. I can't promise I'll return safely, but I can't count it out, either, and at my age, I'm up for a challenge either way. I think it's in your best interests if I don't try and give you too much information about the future, beyond this. Good luck, though!"

She gave a faint smile, then the screen fizzled out.

"Sixty years?" Marco echoed.

"Yeah," I said. "Is it really the weirdest thing that's happened today?"

((One thing at a time,)) Tobias said. ((Can we approach the ship?))

Menderash stared at the pane. "I believe so. It seems like it's just drifting. I would suggest a slow dock."

"Okay," I said. "Let's—not get our hopes up. Battle morphs, just in case we need to board and there's trouble."

Those of us who could had occasionally practiced morphing, to keep in shape during the long flight. Once all of us, bar Menderash, had taken shape, it was a much tighter fit than normal. Though it had been a long time since I had had to push back the tiger's instincts, it wasn't hard; my human mind was too busy remembering past morphs and trying not to get overwhelmed by thoughts of futures that could be, to get distracted by the tiger.

((Computer,)) I said, ((Detonate lowest-grade explosives to force their airlock.)) Menderash grabbed a spare Dracon beam.

Their hull gave way. The interior walls buckled, but fortunately, the doors were secure. Marco's gorilla fist punched the button to open ours, and we awkwardly clambered through the gap between the ships.

((Careful,)) said Jeanne. ((If we puncture this one too, they'll slowly lose oxygen.))

((The—tape just said we get back for sure, right?)) said Marco. ((So we know it works out?))

((I think this is why we're not supposed to know about time travel,)) said Tobias. ((This gets messy.))

((Is there any way we can hack the door?)) Santorelli asked. ((Just force it open?))

But as we were standing around, the door swung open of its own accord. Several eight-limbed aliens were standing around; they didn't seem to have any distinct facial features, so it was hard to tell whether they were facing us, but a couple seemed to have their extremities curled around strange lasers aimed in our general direction.

"Kelbrid," Menderash hissed, then raised his hands in what I could only hope was a universal gesture of truce and began talking at them in quick Galard.

They replied in the same tinny voice we'd heard on the communications. A few more tense interchanges followed, and Menderash nodded at me. "Explain things quickly."

((We—uh—mean you no harm, if you're not under the sway of The One. If you've just been...set free, we'd be glad to help you get home. You and the others. There's a—friend of ours here, an Andalite, we'd like to help if we can. Can we come in? The airlock is damaged.))

Which they probably wouldn't buy as "a natural side effect of being occupied by an evil hivemind," but seemed more immediately helpful. Menderash kept talking, faster and more irritated, but a few minutes later, they were waving us off and closing the door behind us. I breathed again, and tried to let the tiger's instincts take hold. I could still be a predator, in control.

The Kelbrid, still clutching their lasers, led us down a series of hallways. Instead of the standard-issue Yeerk weaponry, though, they were lined with various aliens I didn't recognize. I couldn't have told you what healthy, upright postures would have looked like for them, but I had the feeling I wasn't seeing those. They were staggering, blinking, ambling slowly.

((Do you think they could still be under The One's power?)) I asked our group privately.

((Maybe,)) Marco said. ((But you've seen how some Controllers just lost any will after a few years. Even when they were free, there was an adjustment.))

((Let's hope,)) said Tobias.

We rounded a corner, and I took a step back. There was an Andalite, the area below his nose mutilated and scarred. But he still seemed to be walking under his own power, holding his tailblade with pride and scanning the Blade ship with his stalk eyes.

He would have known my morph and Marco's, of course. Tobias didn't always choose Hork-Bajir in a fight, but Santorelli's rhinoceros and Jeanne's coyote were strangers. And Menderash, who had given up his Andalite body to have a chance to return to this nightmare, sprinted forward. "Prince Aximili! It's me, Menderash!"

Ax whirled around, stalk eyes taking us in while his main eyes looked over at Menderash. ((What?))

"We'll explain later—are you okay?"

((I think I will be. Only—))

"Yes?"

((Don't call me Prince.))

The Sario Rip within Sario Rip premise comes from, of all places, Megamorphs 1!