Nothlit - Arbron

My name is Arbron Laras Istilah, and I am an aristh in the Andalite military. When I first enlisted myself, I dreamed of one day being like the great warriors of legend, bringing glory to the Andalite race and peace to the galaxy. Now, as I hide quietly in a dark corner of the Yeerk's busy spaceport on the Taxxon home world, I realize that my dreams and ambitions are as far as they could ever be from the true way things are.

It had all started so simply - capture a Skrit Na ship, interrogate the crew, rescue the humans that were detained aboard the strange alien's craft. Then came the anomalous energy signatures from the other Skrit Na ship, the one that had gotten away.

And then came the mission to the Taxxon home world's surface, a place closer to any form of Hell I could possibly imagine.

That's basically how I ended up as a Taxxon, the latest and probably most intelligent member of a race that spent their entire lives being slaves of an insatiable appetite, and whose eternal hunger had led to them willingly becoming servants of the Yeerks. I had fled and hidden myself from the other creatures about the spaceport, after succumbing to the Taxxon morph's vile instincts and eating the still-warm flesh of a dead Taxxon.

I felt my time counting down through my internal clock, finally realizing that two hours had indeed passed. I felt the cold, hard truth welling up inside my mind, threatening to send me screaming and running into open sight.

Now, as I stay concealed within the musty smelling recesses of a maintenance area, I wonder just what I can do next. Going home was not an option - a dishonorable exile was probably what awaited me if I actually made it back. I couldn't take the Yeerks head-on, since I was but one Taxxon against an army of monsters. So I guess that just leaves me the option of trying to locate Elfangor and Alloran.

After that... I honestly have no idea what I shall do.

Perhaps a quick death would be best? Would they even consent to such a despicable act? Will my cowardice be condemned?

Fate, it seems, has several devious ideas in her undoubtedly sadistic mind. For my musings were interrupted by another Taxxon slithering into the maintenance area where I was hiding.

Several tense seconds elapsed before I realized that the newcomer Taxxon was unarmed, and that it actually looked as if it were shivering.

Tentatively, nervously, I called out to it with thought-speak, ((Elfangor! Is that you?))

Somehow, I felt both euphoric and horrified simultaneously as the other Taxxon visibly perked up and replied to my call.

((Arbron?))

Almost a quarter of an hour later, I stood behind the familiar controls of a Skrit Na ship, Elfangor powering up the engines.

And this time, it was the one with the Time Matrix stowed away comfortably in its hold.

Gedd controllers slapped their feeble palms against the ship's hull, demanding that we shut down the engines and open up the ship. As soon as the engines began to enter their priming cycle, though, they began hitting at the hull with increased agitation, clearly upset. I absently stared out of the view port at the bustling controllers that were all around us, and wondered just how much damage I could do if I self-destructed the ship right here and now.

((Arbron, what are you waiting for? Demorph!))

"Rrrr-open up! Powerrr down, rrryou fool!"

((Arbron! What are you up to? Demorph!)) Elfangor yelled, his tone sounding as if he was on the verge of tears. Then, in an almost pleading voice, ((Come on, Arbron. Demorph.))

Time seemed to stand still even as I spoke up, my voice somehow calm and collected, ((I really wish I could, Elfangor. I really wish I could.))

Everything around me was shrouded in darkness. The stale air in the cramped and ruined bridge reeked of ozone and burnt electronics.

I had always been a good exo-datalogist. I had been good enough to fool Elfangor into firing a pilfered Yeerk Dracon beam at me, cranked up to its highest setting.

I was a very qualified exo-datalogist, but then again, Elfangor's reflexes were about as good as my skills with computers were. A twitch of his wrist, caused by the slightest instinct, had resulted in the large hole that now adorned the bridge's floor, and the wounded Taxxon that was me.

Two swipes of his tail. That was all it had taken to slash off four of my legs before he turned the Dracon beam on me.

My ploy to get myself killed had failed. Maybe Fate was a sadist, after all.

Only the gods knew how much time passed as I lay there, motionless in the darkened bridge of the crashed Skrit Na ship. Elfangor had been thrown out as the ship crashed, thrown through the transparalon bridge view port like a child's toy. I realized that the odds of him surviving were slight, but I consoled myself with the fact that the ship had probably been very close to the ground when he had been thrown out.

I already had too much on my hands to worry about adding a fellow Andalite's death to the tally.

Out of the silence, there came an eerily familiar sound. A series of rhythmic clicks and whistles sounded through the still air, making my blood run cold.

Taxxons. And by the sounds of it, at least more than two of them. In my current state, I had no hope of fighting back, what more if they were armed with Dracon beams...

My fears were confirmed as the three Taxxons walked into the ruined bridge with an almost casual air. But something seemed amiss. The Taxxons were unarmed, and didn't even seem to be holding any communications devices. Surely the Yeerks would have armed any controllers they sent after several escaping Andalites?

I very nearly jumped out of my skin when the foremost Taxxon turned to me and spoke to me in a strange, guttural voice, almost like the echoes of a cry down the walls of a valley.

((YOU.)) the Taxxon said, speaking in a voice that sounded audible both as thought-speak and also as a mouth-sound, ((SO, YOU ARE THE ONE.))

Bewildered, I could only stare in shock at the creature - whatever it was, 'Taxxon' was probably not on the list, as far as I was currently concerned.

Seemingly plucking my thoughts out of thin air, the thing spoke up once again, in the same booming voice, which seemed to make my very brain resonate.

((I AM THE LIVING HIVE. MOTHER AND FATHER OF THE TAXXONS. I AM A TAXXON AND YET, NOT ONE OF THE CREATURES KNOWN AS TAXXONS. AND YOU, ARBRON, ARE THE ONE I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR.))

((Whatever for? I'm just an Andalite trapped in a Taxxon morph,)) the bitterness in my thought-speak voice was very discernible.

((YOU UNDERSTAND THE ENEMY. TOGETHER, WE WILL BANISH THE YEERKS FROM THIS WORLD, AND ONCE MORE, THE TAXXON PEOPLE SHALL KNOW FREEDOM.))

((The Yeerks feed your people. This world is barely sufficient to sustain your species!)) I protested, feeling a knot of discomfort in my gut, ((There isn't enough food here for your species to survive.))

The Taxxon which called itself the 'Living Hive' was silent for a moment, but when it spoke up again, it was with conviction in its voice. From then on, I knew my protests were useless.

((FREEDOM MAKES LIFE WORTH IT, DESPITE HAVING TO ENDURE OUR CURSED HUNGER,)) it declared loudly, ((WE, THE TAXXONS, WOULD RATHER STARVE THAN REMAIN SLAVES OF THE YEERKS. AND YOU, ARBRON, WILL LEAD US TO OUR SALVATION.))