Z-space engines never tore through the fabric of space; they merely parted it so that spacecraft could move beyond the rules of light-speed travel and cross the vast distances between stars without the consequences of such journeys.
If the universe had been full of peaceful races who only wished to explore other planetary systems, then there would be no sario rips. No unpredictable tears in space and time. Instead, there were Dracon cannons with the power to punch through to the core of planets. Andalite Dome ships with the potential to burn through any forcefield, even the ones that could stand the head-on impact of an asteroid. Boiled down to their essence, these planetary weapons shared one common trait in that all of them used concentrated beams of energy, warped to the point that they pulled at the fabric of space-time around it.
When these beams met in the battlefields of space, the universe ripped apart, and the jagged edges of reality sucked in everything that passed too close.
Aftran had heard the stories of Bug fighters vanishing in the flash of an explosion that left the rest of the fleet assuming that those ships had been obliterated. Once in while, the Skrit Na would come to the yeerks, towing along one of the missing fighters to resell to them. The outer hulls of such spacecraft would be aged by eons, the once shiny, sleek metal flaking away in corroded fragments. The crew inside would be nothing but dust, having undoubtedly perished in an era millions of years before even the Andalites had breached the atmosphere of their homeworld.
It was a fate that brought a hushed quiet whenever such stories had echoed under the surface of the pools. Preferable to die quickly in battle than suffer the agony of isolation and starvation amidst a foreign time.
A shudder travels along Aftran's new shoulders. A quick breath intakes before she clenches her fists to crush the dread that wells up inside of her.
It's impossible! There's no way that this host body fell through a tear in time! In none of the stories, none of them, has there ever been a survivor. Let alone someone who landed in the Yeerk Empire's current era. Aftran's a warrior, not a scientist, but even she knows that the history of the entire universe is just as vast as the space between all of the stars in existence. Maybe time travel might explain why this human leaned into Aftran's presence like they've met before. But even so, there's no way someone who met Aftran in the future would happen to have fallen to a past that still included Aftran. The chances are too miniscule!
But Temrash had said…
Aftran looks back over her shoulder. Behind her, Temrash leans against the rocky wall, his head in his hands while his fingers dig into dark hair. He isn't saying anything now, just breathing harshly as his shoulders shake.
He had frozen up after asking that one question on sario rips. Nothing Aftran had said seemed to have had an effect until he had just gasped his way back into awareness. Whatever his next words would have been, they had caught in his throat as his eyes had slipped out of focus before snapping back to meet Aftran's.
Raw fear had bled through them before that feeling had been shuttered away, and Temrash had hoarsely muttered to "tell them it's a sario rip."
With the shakes and twitches that had impeded Temrash's movements, they had barely managed to shuffle behind this supply shed that currently hides them both from view of the rest of the cavern.
Remembering the one task Temrash had given her, she turns away from him and leans forward to peek around the side of the supply shed. None of the distant controllers notice her quick look before she shifts back out of sight.
That's good, not being noticed. What's not good is that no one recognizable, like the red-haired controller, appears to be looking for the two of them.
Even if he had barely been able to spit out the words, Temrash had been adamant on not being seen in such a deteriorated state. Which Aftran gets why. Visser Three has never tolerated weakness. Regardless of how sound Temrash's reasons for his condition might be, it's doubtful that the Visser's tolerance would miraculously change.
So now, Aftran's stuck with her superior who's falling apart behind her while she hopes that the three controllers searching for them won't miss this hiding spot.
Aftran bites her lip due to this body's habitual response to nervousness. That's all that she has right now. This body's habits and instincts and her own churning confusion in the pit of its stomach. She doesn't have to be stuck with just that though.
Even as the human sleeps, she could easily search through the girl's memories and find out if this girl believes she fell through time. If the human did, there should be the images of a spacecraft. A blinding flash of light or something and then whatever the hell it feels like to fall through a rip.
Aftran's awareness inches inward. She pulls at the threads of familiarity that bind the girl's last wave of relief at Aftran's presence. The frayed threads lead to the edge of no sensations, of floating through nothing, feeling nothing—
Aftran lurches away, her focus snapping back to the outside world.
No, no. She's not touching any of those memory shards lurking under the human's consciousness. Not when the last time she was submerged in them, she nearly got swallowed up in a mad spiral.
Is that what's happening to Temrash?
Aftran glances back at the other controller. Maybe his host has the same fractured mind that this one has. If Temrash's conclusion to Aftran's description of her host's mind was to think of sario rips, then his host might be experiencing the same symptoms.
Which means that she could end up like him if her host wakes up.
She shudders more violently this time, forcing her gaze away from Temrash and forward towards the space between the other supply sheds and the cavern wall. The human girl doesn't even stir as Aftran's fear curls around her.
The human can't wake up. Aftran can't lose herself to those fragmented beliefs that—center around the Pool being gone.
The Pool…if this girl isn't mentally broken and if she truly went through a sario rip, then that means the Pool was gone. Truly gone while everyone around her was dead.
"Sir, I can't stay here. I need to go find Iniss 226."
Temrash twitches. Slowly he peers out at her past the fingers that are now digging into his forehead. He says nothing while Aftran faces him.
"If…Sir, you said that this situation was from a sario rip. If this human is truly from the future, then her belief in the Pool being gone…The Andalites are coming tonight." Somehow the tone that exits her mouth is steady, lacking what she truly feels towards that species.
From the hate curdling in his eyes, Temrash must get what she means before the sound of those words has left the air.
The Andalites would have been the only reason why something like this would have happened. The Andalites who are coming tonight, who Visser Three has been preparing to ambush ever since his spies informed him of their Dome ship's jump into z-space several months ago.
And what happens if those Andalites evade the Blade Ship's first attacks? Within seconds, it would be easy for them to destroy the city that lies above the Pool from orbit. Even if the Blade Ship eventually won the battle with the Dome ship, the yeerks' foothold on Earth would be vaporized.
And if the Blade Ship didn't win, if the those energized beams crossed and tore apart reality while Aftran and Temrash were aboard like they were supposed to be…
No, no, that wouldn't explain the human girl. She wouldn't have been on the Blade Ship, and she knows Aftran. How would she have gotten to know Aftran in the space of several hours—That doesn't even matter. Aftran sure as hell wasn't swimming around believing the Pool was gone before she crawled into this host; so, she most definitely didn't get sucked into a sario rip. She'd remember that. Probably…It wouldn't make any sense otherwise!
"Go. If you can't find Iniss, contact the Blade Ship directly."
Aftran starts, but Temrash only stares at her with burning eyes that push her back. It's easy to turn away from them and to walk out into the open.
Alert Visser Three that the Andalites will destroy the Pool.
Alert Visser Three, by herself, without any superior to hide behind as his four eyes focus only on her.
No. Aftran's has to save her poolmates. Her brother. Don't think about the Visser's reaction to what must be told to him. It's inconsequential to what will be lost if they're unprepared.
Aftran treads over the packed dirt. The inflexible human knees and shorter legs rob her of the speed that would take her quickly through the cavern and to the communication consoles in the two-story buildings on the far side of the Pool.
She has no clue where Iniss spends his time when he isn't directing the yeerks down here, so might as well cut right to calling the Visser.
Red catches in the corner of her eye. Aftran cranes the stiff, short neck until the sight of a dash of red descending the last of the steps lies center in her vision.
Two other controllers, their face lacking the clarity for identification from such a distance, follow the red-headed controller.
She jogs to them, and the faces clear into that of Iniss 226 and Efflit 1318. There are minute visual differences that come with Aftran's now human eyes. Grey speckles the brown of Iniss's hair with more frequency than her hork-bajir's eyes had noticed, and Efflit's hazel eyes are lighter even with the poor lighting by the stairs.
Despite the differences, the familiarity of her superior's appearances still is strong enough for Aftran to know who they are.
Both controllers watch her approach with the lack of recognition that comes when a yeerk has changed bodies. They eye her as she comes to a stop before them. The red-haired controller's eyes widen.
"Oh, here she is, Aftran 942. Without—"
"Aftran, what's going on? Why were we called down here?" Iniss cuts right to the point as Efflit stares silently down at her.
Even if this isn't her hork-bajir host, Aftran still slips into the at-ready stance expect of Guards like her. "Temrash 114 ordered me to find you and tell you that a sario rip is involved with this human's belief in the destruction of the Pool." He didn't say that exactly, but it's close enough.
Iniss and Efflit stiffen in unison.
"And where is Temrash 114?" Iniss asks harshly. Efflit glances at him before scanning the cavern behind her.
"He's located behind the supply sheds. He," The curious stares at Aftran's back prickle the thin hairs along her neck. Too many yeerks pass by far too closely for this to be private.
"He's been affected in some way by the sario rip." Aftran finishes vaguely.
Efflit moves forward. The breeze of his passing pulls at Aftran even though she stepped out of the way.
Iniss briskly follows with the red-haired controller trailing after him. The younger controller's gaze skitters from Iniss to Efflit to Aftran and back again.
Aftran increases the number of her strides to keep up with the longer steps of the others. They say nothing to her while making their way past the dozens of controllers around them and to the sparsely occupied area by the sheds.
A few pointed glares from Iniss, and even that occupation dwindles down to just the four of them as they make it to the back of the buildings.
Temrash's still hunches against the wall. The shaking has stopped though, and with the pads of shoes against the dirt, he stiffens in response.
"Temrash," Iniss says just as Efflit closes the last few yards to the silent controller. "What's going on?"
The hands fall away from Temrash's face only to reach out. The snarl twisting his features stops Aftran in her tracks as he lunges at Efflit.
Efflit flows forward, his leg hooks Temrash's host's leg and yanks it out from under him.
In a blur of movement, the host hits the ground. Efflit's knee presses down on his back as the host screams into the dirt.
"Holy crap!" the red-haired controller scampers back while Efflit stares stonily down at the thrashing, cursing host.
Iniss turns back to Aftran. "Explain this. Now."
Words tangle in her throat. Hosts don't break free like that. They just don't.
"He did that to me," The red-haired controller pipes up. "he attacked me. The host, he punched me in parking lot." He gestures at his swollen face. "I warned him his feeding cycle's off, but he didn't listen."
Hosts don't break free like that unless the yeerk is on the verge of starvation.
Nothing oozes out of the glimpses of ear that Aftran gets of the struggling human. The ground around them lies barren of anything but footprints.
Efflit grabs the host's hair and yanks his head to the side to check the ears himself.
The host stiffens; the screams die off.
"It's me. I've regained control," says the hoarse voice.
"Prove it." Efflit does not loosen his hold nor stop his inspection.
Silence. Damning silence.
"Do you still believe in your gods, priest?" The words come out low.
They're nonsensical. The Empire has no priests, not since they left their primitive existence back on the homeworld.
They must be a code, and the right one at that, because Efflit stands. Temrash tries to stagger to his feet before Efflit hooks his arm and pulls him up.
"I'll debrief him in the Pool." Efflit states as he stares at Iniss, who technically outranks him.
Iniss nods in agreement while Temrash protests.
"I don't need to feed."
"Visser Three aged three years when he went," Efflit's glances at Aftran, "through his space anomaly. Tell me again why your feeding cycle wouldn't have been thrown off by this."
Temrash quiets and his shoulders slump as he lets Efflit pull him away.
Aftran watches them disappear around the side of the shed before Iniss forces her attention to him.
"You said that the Pool was going to be destroyed. Clarify what you meant."
Funny, how believable its destruction has become with how the others have responded to this impossibility of time travel.
"I don't have many details, sir. The human fully believes that the Pool shouldn't be here and that everyone around her is dead. But her memories…they are like broken shards of bark. They're not attached to any greater whole. They have no history or physical sensation. Just rootless certainty."
"Arress." Iniss glares at the red-haired controller. "Go set up a shuttle to the Pool ship immediately and tell our head of security that I need to speak with her."
"Yes, sir." Arress nods, glances at Aftran, and then runs off.
Iniss watches the other controller until he is out of sight.
When he looks to Aftran, his expression holds nothing for her to gain any meaning from.
"I'm certain you know that this needs to be relayed to Visser Three in person. If the Andalites know where the Pool is, then we can't risk alerting them to what we've discovered through an unsecure network." Iniss says calmly.
"I suggest you get those human's thoughts in as much order as possible. The Visser will want to know everything."