The younger generations barely believed it anymore. They could not conceive that Yeerks such as that could exist. There were rabble-rousers, of course, and weak sympathizers who believed that taking an involuntary host was wrong. And what overgrown grub had not had a twinge of misgivings the first time they had to push back the screams of a host? But an entire group of elder Yeerks who had willingly never left the home world? How could that even be?
But they still existed, in remote pools scattered across the barren landscape of the rough-edged planet. They would take Gedds occasionally, but more often than not, they remained in the pools, conversing with each other and going about their lives. They dedicated their existences to more intellectual pursuits, the deep questions that can be pondered when all one has to do is float in the sludge for years on end.
"How can you turn it all down?" they would be asked, surrounded by grubs returning from their first infestation. "How can you pass up the chance to be so big?"
Yeerks are big enough, they would remind the young ones. Before you squeezed yourself inside a giant, had you ever thought yourself small?
"What about moving? What about hands? How can you refuse to use them, to influence your world?"
The world is already good. The pool is warm, and the Kandrona shines brightly, and you are surrounded by your fellows. What more could you need to do?
"But eyes. What about eyes? How can you give up eyes?"
Do not be jealous of the host bodies, young ones. For they spend so much time seeing, that they have forgotten how to think. Do not be an unthinking Yeerk, dear grubs. Our Empire has too many of those.