Chapter 6
"Reform!" Arkv thundered. "Reform!"
It was infinitely easier said than done. The Yeerks were still pouring in, and it wouldn't be long before the entire facility was present. They were determined to defend their home against the invaders, no matter what the intentions. There were Gedds, Naharans, Ssstram, and…
He appeared behind a wall of onrushing Taxxons, wielding a hefty blunt tool with eager motive to use it. Jake, brandishing his deadly tiger morph, didn't see the Human until the last moment, claws ready to attack. Before the knockout blow was introduced, he ducked and almost toppled, bouncing against the frail body of a nearby Taxxon.
((Human!)) he yelped in our heads. ((There are Humans here!))
The Taxxon Jake had rebounded from twisted to bring its gaping mouth down on the tiger's neck, but Jake spun and whipped out a hammer-like paw. He caught the Taxxons face and ripped from it two blood-red eyes. He immediately turned his attention to the indecisive Human, and with a more subtle knock, took him out of the question. But he wouldn't have time to drag the man away from danger. Not yet.
It was becoming a bloodbath, and I found little opportunity to assist without being almost certainly suicidal. The reformation that Arkv insisted on simply wasn't going to happen, and even he was beginning to see that. Team Hook, however, maintained their position and expertly took down opponents one after the other like clockwork. Us Animorphs were creating a working, if violent, distraction.
Surote was practically having a fit. His orders were garbled, his stance uneasy. He would twitch and jolt at random, utterly repulsed at every trickle of blood that flowed, and by now, it was almost a river.
The Yeerks were disorganized, confused, and quite frankly useless at battle. Even the Hork-Bajir, the main shock troops of the Empire when it was in force, were clumsy and weak. They looked tired and malnourished. Despite outnumbering us, the Yeerks seemed much more likely to take themselves out than any of us. I watched on from above, picking out opportunities to aid whenever they infrequently came along, and I saw Menderash weaving deftly through alien bodies. A Hork-Bajir and a Gedd pounced him from either side, but he evaded cleanly, and the Gedd was fatally impaled on the outstretched knee of the Hork-Bajir, a garbled screech the last noise it would make.
It was the hell I had gotten so used to long ago. Blood mottled the floor in all different shades, bodies slipping and sliding over it as gruesome ice skaters in a desperate last act. In the air, I felt so undeservedly safe while the others took turns to pick out horrible little memories to take home and hoard, undeservedly protected by distance while they were sliced and slammed in a panicked pit of Yeerks.
My chance to intervene arrived. Santorelli had found some space near the large roller crusher, gobbling hungrily at the moving conveyor belt. On purple blood, his hooves finally met their match, and the giant ox went over heavily onto its side. He scrambled but, exhausted and bulky, it was more of a struggle than would be comfortable. From the mess of scrambling, hobbling Yeerks in the center of the hall, one Hork-Bajir saw the fall and in it an opportunity. I saw her head turn, the momentary pause of consideration. I could see the intent, and I had to act. Nobody else had noticed.
I powered my wings once more and felt the light aching in the joints. Tiredness, I thought, and nothing more. I could put it aside and reap the torturous rewards later. Santorelli's life was infinitely more important. I thrust forward, turning through the air in search of precision, the perfect aerial attack.
((Sarge!)) I shouted. ((Hork-Bajir coming your way!))
His hooves slapped at the slick ground, struggling for purchase with weakened legs. He saw the Hork-Bajir as she finally made up her mind. She bounded forward, blades slashing violently in the air.
I had one opportunity. Miss, and Santorelli was a goner. I couldn't live with that on my conscience. Even if it meant…
The Hork-Bajir saw me, turned her snake-like neck to look directly at me. Our sights connected, and at that moment, my mind hesitated, panicked to debate at that pivotal moment! Precision was lost, my talons refused to pierce, and I bumped pathetically against the side of the Hork-Bajir's head, tumbling gracelessly to the bloodied floor.
I cursed my indecisiveness and returned to my feet to take wing once again and escape the dangerous ground level. I flapped once, and a sharp pain rattled my wings. I squawked, gathered myself, and tried again. The burn halted everything, and I came to realize that I wasn't going to get airborne. I had to run!
But I was never going to outrun a Hork-Bajir, and my backfired attempt to blind her wasn't about to go unpunished. I managed five short steps before the big green claws wrapped around my fragile body, squeezing one wing to my belly while the other flapped pointlessly to one side. I was yanked from the ground at speed, bludgeoning agony through my back, crumpled by the contours of a Hork-Bajir palm.
Then the world around me shunted forwards. The Hork-Bajir holding me was barged uncompromisingly into the side of the conveyor belt, and me with it! I was an inch from the squeaking, churning belt for a moment before the grip on me was lost, and I fell back down to the floor. I scrambled with all limbs to move away. When I looked back, I saw a black, leathery fist retreating from the bleeding belly of the Hork-Bajir. She struck again but, weakened, the blow was dodged, and an open gorilla palm thrust her head forcefully beneath the conveyor belt and into the rollers. Several blistering clangs and the Hork-Bajir went limp.
((Fly, you idiot!)) Marco blasted. ((You almost got yourself killed!))
((I can't! It's my wings!))
Marco took an alert note of his surroundings and grunted in apparent annoyance before picking me up in an unnaturally delicate grasp. I did feel his fingers twitching, and I knew deep down he had been dreading precisely this kind of situation. From what little remarks he put my way, he just wanted it to end, and soon. He wouldn't forget any of this.
"Reform!" Arkv screamed, and I saw him through the lessening crowd, thrashing his free arm wildly in the air, still managing to let off another dart with the other. Marco was retreating, following the gap and hurdling over the fallen bodies of all different races.
((Oh no…))
Jake's worryingly distraught voice followed a bang from across the room. Over Marco's chunky fingers, I could see the smaller door to the mining area had burst open, and from it poured an unexpected reinforcement.
Surote had seen them, too. "Reform the ranks, you fools! Block the tunnel!"
The Yeerks had been here for a long time, scrounging an existence on the resources they had been mining. They were trying to establish a sustainable population.
Of course, there would be kids.
Their cries were dissonant and pervasive. Juveniles of many races emerged into the battleground with adults looking for the fight. Was it a tactic? Were the Yeerks using such underhand methods? It didn't matter.
Six or seven new and capable fighters had entered the ring, naïve and ignorant children following parents into the path of danger. Santorelli, amid an oxen rage, was galloping in a large semi-circle to annihilate Yeerks straying into the periphery. He hadn't seen the new entrants.
((Kids!)) Jake called. ((Watch out for the kids!))
He saw them at the last moment. Three crying juveniles chasing a male Oo that had stormed towards Team Hook. Santorelli stumbled, kicked back against the ground, but his momentum carried him ever forward.
A flailing knee whipped the face of a tiny Mak. The child was thrust backward with a sickening twist. Santorelli clattered the ground and came to an awkward canter, saying absolutely nothing. He didn't even look back. He disappeared behind Team Hook.
The darts flew, and the bodies dropped. Team Hook were satisfied with sedating the juveniles, but even they looked shaken. Marco had carried me back behind the line to safety, but that left Jake and Menderash.
The Yeerks were down to three. Two Gedds and one Hork-Bajir. What must have been at least sixty lay on the spoilt floor, either dead or incapacitated.
"Forward!" Arkv ordered. Since we outnumbered the Yeerks, there was little more need to maintain the line. Team Hook bounded forward, but they were too far from Jake and the last Hork-Bajir to take immediate aim.
Jake was injured. He limped heavily on his front legs, and the once-proud tiger stripes were disgraced with bodily content. The last Hork-Bajir picked him as a target, but even he was in no great condition. He was dizzy, swaying from side to side as he moved. Nevertheless, he was forcing Jake backward toward a wall of piping.
The Hork-Bajir lunged! A stray, clumsy foot caught on the downed body of a Taxxon, and with Jake leaping to the side, there was only one thing the Hork-Bajir was going to hit. Head blades caved in the pipes with a crack, and green gas came billowing out around the head of the Hork-Bajir! Jake saw the cloud forming before him and made the quick and wise decision to hurry out of the way and back in our direction.
On the pipe… Two red tentacles.
"What did I say about the pipes?!" Surote blasted. "Clear the area! Take whatever bodies you can! Back down the tunnel!"
The green mist had quickly swallowed the guilty Hork-Bajir. Its creeping paws clambered outwards, over the bodies of Yeerks dead or unconscious, snatching them from us.
((Tobias, man, can you fly?)) Marco asked of me.
He opened his hand with palm up, and I tested my wings. They ached still, but the burning had subsided enough. ((Yeah.)) I leaped from him and took flight once more, aiming back down the tunnel. Marco went back to rescue what he could as the green death expanded through the mining area. I lost sight of it past the tunnel entrance, and then I found Santorelli, motionless and silent in the center of the long passage. I decided to hitch a ride on his back.
Bang! I ducked my head as an innate precaution as some kind of explosion rocked the facility. When I looked back, I saw that the creeping cloud had upped its intent, pounding forward like the fists of a heavyweight, punching at the air. At the tunnel entrance, the rescue team came running, bodies of whatever Yeerks they could carry over shoulders and under arms. Santorelli took his cue to move, and I bobbed unsteadily on his back.
The mining area was lost. The bloating cloud blocked out all light, closing off the entrance as we emerged from the other side, where more bodies lay. I flew off Santorelli's back while as many bodies as could be held were hoisted upon his mighty form.
In the air, I could see it all. Team Hook, still so impeccably professional, were checking for any missed foes. What really caught my attention, though, was Arkv. He had separated from the others to inspect the control panels by the toxic chambers. He found a large, transparent box, the one filled with compressed air capsules.
A look of alarm spread over his face, distorted by the thin veil of water that sustained him. "Sir, this container is not air-tight!"
Surote's robot eyes blinked and then considered. It wasn't a long deliberation, and the sound of onrushing acidic gas down the tunnel turned a wise decision into an urgent one.
"We must leave now! Return to the ship! Now!"
The whipping tentacles of green trickled from the tunnel, spilling over the floor like hooks aiming for vulnerable ankles. I could only imagine what damage would be done by the explosive capsules, but I wasn't going to hang around to find out. I followed the others down the next tunnel, a hassled charge for the exit and the safety of the outdoor sandstorm.
In the first hall, Fruyt had moved the two Mak and two Oo near our entry point. With such a small opening and so many bodies to shift, we had to prioritize. Arkv and Surote took it in turns to bark out orders, and those unable to lift heavy weights were sent out into the sandstorm first, including all of us but Marco. Surote joined us as we dragged unconscious Yeerk bodies as far from the building as we could. I could do little more than watch, made difficult by the raging sandstorm that blocked out the sky.
The blast was like intense thunder. Within the building, the toxic, acidic gas had enveloped the capsule container, seeped in. Even through the thick flying sand, I could see the center of the building beginning to implode after the incredible, uncontrolled explosion. Suddenly, a massive gust of air punched at me and sent me spiraling back towards to ship, winded and disorientated. The immense air pressure sent debris through the sky, zipping through the air like hailstones.
"Take cover!" Arkv bellowed as best he could. "Keep away from the building!"
I saw the last few run. They had left Yeerk bodies behind. Too late, I saw a thick metal frame whip past me, just inches from my wing. I decided for safety and ducked back towards the ship. I dropped beneath it, sheltered by its impervious frame.
Nobody was physically hurt beyond repair. We had to wait out the falling debris before heading back to Enrich, and very few exchanged glances. Only Arkv was speaking, and that was to dish out whatever orders he felt necessary.
That is until Surote started to make some very unusual sounds. It was a bleeping jitter at first and then a whistle. Heads rose, eyes gaped.
He was twitching, convulsing violently. His metal eyelids flickered asymmetrically, white claws clenched and flexed at random. Everything about him was shuddering, and it was getting worse!
"I… told… you….!" he garbled mechanically. He couldn't finish whatever he was going to say. Sparks flashed beneath his chest plates, and jolts grappled his head. All hands covered all eyes in anticipation, just as Surote's upper half gave up the fight and burst, sending lightweight metal everywhere.