#28 – Enemies
Visser Three stood in front of the holo-projector in his private quarters aboard his Blade Ship. As it whined to life and projected the image from across the galaxy, he felt a sensation he normally never felt – apprehension.
The holo-projector simulated the experience of being half-surrounded by eleven hooded and robed figures. Visser Three knew the final two members of the Council of Thirteen were hidden; he also knew they would be listening to this transmission. He waited to be addressed and became even more nervous when none spoke.
(Greetings,) Visser Three said uncertainly, using his stalk eyes to scan all of the visible Council members.
"Report," one of the robed figures said in a monotone Hork-Bajir voice. Through a hologram, it was impossible to tell which of the members had spoken.
(Yes, of course,) the Visser said, calling up all of the pertinent data on his personal computer. (The infestation rate is up. By the end of the quarterly cycle, we will have almost one percent of Earth's population under control.)
"One percent." Another flat voice, this one perhaps a Gedd, commented. It was impossible to tell if it was a question, but Visser Three took it as one.
(Yes,) he said, trying not to let his displeasure color his thought speech. (Many of these controllers will be in a position of power on their planet. The more we take, the faster our infestation rates will grow. But for now, this is the best we can do.)
Silence met his comment, so he ventured on. (It is a long process, I know. A long process. Has the Council, in their infinite wisdom, seen fit to review my…revised…infestation plan?)
More silence. Then a faceless voice said, "Your "plan." Yes, the Council has reviewed your proposal. It is our opinion that your plan of open invasion would waste far too many hosts. Far too many."
Visser Three prepared himself to do something he'd never done before – be somewhat argumentative with the ruling body of Yeerks. (There are over five billion potential hosts on this planet. Twenty for every living Yeerk. Even if half of them died -)
"We can – and will – breed more Yeerks. We will not waste potential hosts." The voice that made the declaration did not leave anything in its tone to allow an argument. "The infestation will proceed as it has for the last cycle. The humans are to remain unaware of our existence at all costs."
"What is the situation with the Andalite bandits?" another voice from the Council inquired.
Visser Three tried not to let the rage he felt at their very mention affect him. (It is only a matter of time before I crush them. They are a minor inconvenience at most -)
"A minor inconvenience," the Council member who had asked the question mused. "Yes, I can see that from the reports. Seven Bug Fighters destroyed. One hundred and eleven Hork-Bajir controllers killed, two hundred and eighty injured badly enough to miss duty. Ninety-eight Taxxons, dead. Four hundred and twelve Yeerk casualties. Countless amounts of damaged or destroyed hardware and equipment. Nine hundred and forty dead humans – many of which came at your hands, due to your temper tantrums." The owner of the voice paused to let the numbers sink in. "This is what you consider a minor inconvenience? I would hate to see what you consider a true threat."
Visser Three hoped his stalk eyes quivering with madness would not translate to the Council. (We are disadvantaged by our need for secrecy. We are extremely limited in our options when it comes to engaging and hunting these bandits. If I were given a little more leeway in our policies of stealth, I could crush them within one Earth week.)
"Our stealth policies are in place for a reason, as you well know, Visser," a new member said. "Our analysts tell us that there are at most nine members of the Andalite resistance on Earth. How have you not managed to kill one single Andalite in all of the reported engagements between them and our forces? How do you explain your failure?"
(Humans are gullible,) Visser Three said, almost begging. (Even if some of them saw something as our forces searched for and destroyed the bandits, the others would not believe them. If I could just dedicate my forces – all of them – to hunting down these bandits for a short time -)
"You want to delay the infestation process to find Andalites, Visser?" Visser Three did not catch the dangerous edge to the voice which was speaking. He got a clue as to which member it was by violent gestures coming from inside a dark crimson robe. "You want to commit our forces on Earth to finding Andalites? Why? They have no trouble finding you – it seems we receive casualty and damage reports by the dozens. Why can you not destroy them when they come to you?"
"Enough," a gravelly Hork-Bajir voice said. "Visser, your orders are as follows: Increase the infestation rate by .2% by next report. You will not dedicate any Earth forces to finding the bandits. You will have progress – tangible progress – to report on the Andalite bandit situation by next report. You will not breach any protocol in place to keep the invasion of Earth a secret." The owner of the voice seemed to remember something. "Oh, and your requisition for additional Hork-Bajir troops has been denied. It is the opinion of the Council that you have more than you need already. Do not disappoint us in any of these objectives, Visser. If you do, we will find someone more suitable for your position." Without a word of farewell, the holo-projector powered down, and the Visser was alone in his chambers again.
Visser Three started the trip to the bridge. He always felt better when he envisioned the Dracon beams on his Blade Ship blasting into the earth. On the way, a human phrase he'd once heard occurred to him. (With friends like these, who needs enemies?) The Council was not his friend, but the phrase did not lose everything in translation.
On his way to the bridge, a human controller with his head buried in a datapad nearly stumbled into the Visser. Without thinking about it, he flung his tail…and the human casualties at Earth went up to nine hundred and forty-one.
It made him feel a little better. Not much, but a little.