As soon as the door closed, the Visser finished demorphing: as he hoped, his skin had already taken on a blue tinge pronounced enough for Edriss to notice, but not enough for the Gedds to see.

"That was too close," she fretted.

((I know what I'm doing,)) he replied sullenly, trotting past her.

She typed the coordinates of their destination into the computer. As they entered Z-Space, an archived image of the icy planet appeared on screen.

He made a fast circuit of the ship and was back quickly. While sweaty fur stuck out exuberantly, his voice was that of an old warrior. ((Any quarters for me?))

"No," Edriss replied witheringly. "It would have been somewhat suspicious to requisition a ship for two when there was one of me officially on it. And we don't have much that fits Andalites."

((We do, actually, or at least we used to.))

"Your own personal fleet?"

((No, the transports we seized early in the war. Don't you remember?))

"Not personally. But there's been more of a tendency towards Yeerk-produced ships. The weapons are better, and besides, we don't want to be seen as too…conciliatory, in this day and age."

((If an "Andalite-lover" can win those debates, I don't see why we can't use their ships. It's an intelligence victory: get inside their ships, and we can approach the insides of their minds. Even if actual access is limited.))

"Why's it such a big deal?"

((I was born in an Andalite transport.))

"Sorry. Hadn't known."

((It shouldn't be a big deal,)) he admitted objectively. ((But it's easy to miss.))

"I don't peruse your personal records."

((Not as in "overlook", as in "feel nostalgic for".))

"You don't seem the type to feel nostalgic for anything."

((It was easy, at any rate. I don't suppose I'll have anything that simple again. And safe.))

"And boring."

((It was the same as…itself. It was what it was, a piece of metal that sometimes had a pool of sludge inside. Now it's hard to be sure that anybody is what they claim.))

"Do you trust me?"

((Yes.))

The Visser waited edgily, assuming Edriss was going to reply, but she had already made her point. He strode along imperiously, hoping she wouldn't realize that he didn't know what he was doing. The ship remained just as small as it had when he boarded.

He accessed a computer and searched absentmindedly for records of ships acquired shortly prior to his spawning. The transports were indistinguishable, and he felt vaguely regretful for not remembering which identification number was assigned to his ship.

He shook the thought out of his mind-he was an officer, and had tasks to accomplish.

Of course, it was slightly difficult to accomplish them on a ship that one was not officially registered as occupying.

Ten ships fit the criteria to the best of his knowledge. He was able to narrow that to eight after a quick search of public records: as a high-ranking Visser, he had an entry in a secure database that included birthdate specifics. He had to use all his security clearance to dig any deeper: apparently, public knowledge of how many ships had been returned to Andalite control or destroyed would be dangerous to morale.

Of those eight, three had been destroyed and the other five replaced. The odds should have been in his favor, that whichever he had been born in was enjoying an honorable retirement, but he didn't quite believe it. Perhaps it was too long in the military that had given him a mindset of expecting the worst, but perhaps there was another factor to the equation. He should have been satisfied in the probability that his ship was still extant, if not in active service, with a newer model functioning instead. But was that really what he wanted? He, after all, was still young and on the rise, having outargued the Sub-Visser. To be linked to something already old and fading was not what he wanted. There was more allure in illumination against the darkness of space by a flash from an Andalite fighter for a brief instant, perhaps that of an already jaded warrior who, unlike anaristh, felt no hesitation of firing on what had once been his own peoples'-

What was he thinking? "Allure" held no merit to him.

Or perhaps, it was another's memory that he could not extricate from his own mind.

The odds, he knew, were against it. Yet he could not shake himself free of the image, the slightest possibility.

At the time of his birth, it truly had been something special. They were the first generation to be born in space, set free from the constraints of gravity, the stifling world of the Gedds. That was how their elders heralded them, as the children that would lead them into a glorious future. In reality, their life was monotonous enough. His poolmates were as diverse as any others, with just as many incompetents and underlings. Only more had perished in those first skirmishes.

He could have no true devotion to any lifeless object that had been turned from one side to another, but a sort of admiration was possible. He would never be skilled enough, objective enough, to see the universe from another dimension, with no bias to either side. But his ship could have done so. It had served its purpose, as a haven for those who would grow to kill each other, without condoning any of it, and passively accepted whatever fate befell it. It was not something he could emulate, but marveled at nonetheless.

The Andalites' system was quaint to him, but he was unaware of what he truly thought of it: striving to keep an open mind to his enemies' tactics, he never considered the disdain he actually felt. The transport had been constructed one component at a time, the tight families of his rivals each forging their specialization. From the diverse members of its creator race, the ship grew, and it was their best and brightest that would ensure it did not benefit their opposition.

Of course, he remembered the planet he had just departed far more vividly than the ship, and the triumphs he had exacted would always shine within his memory. But both the complex world and the simple pool had forged his identity, and he could ask for nothing more if he was never to see either of them again.