It's probably a solid two weeks before Christmas is due, assuming that their Thanksgiving dinner was on schedule which, given the nature of the ship, it presumably wasn't. But the robot attack was terrifying and disheartening and exhausting, and Howard wants a holiday, so according to him, it's Christmas. A nice, relaxing break from things trying to kill them.

Aside from this strand of Christmas lights doing its damnedest to strangle him, that is. Howard's managed to get it around his neck, and if it weren't for the fact that finding light strands is hard enough on Stacy, would be cutting it off with scissors.

He's still a bit beat-up, bandages around his head and his knees and one looping around his torso, under his shirt, but thanks to the healers and medical technology on Stacy he's not in much pain. His foot being in a brace is the worst of it.

He's managed to salvage an old plastic tree from a run-down building. A few packets of hot cocoa from the Warehouse sit on the table. Flossy Raptor is downstairs and dressed in a Santa hat and bizarrely, a feather boa in a shade of green too lime-ish to be Christmassy. A clunky-looking dog-sized gift for Zouichi is by the couch, wrapped in tin foil and newsprint, and another is on the table for Karis, although it's unwrapped. No one else quite makes Howard's list this year.

He pulls his way out of the tangle of lights. Christmas numero dos sans his family. Christmas numero uno on Stacy. He finds he's less okay with the former than he was last year, but more okay with the latter than he'd presumed.

Anyone who walks into the kitchen of the Susono Inn will be greeted by the rare and unusual sound of Howard humming. Go Tell It On the Mountain, actually. He even sings the section of the first verse that he vaguely remembers under his breath.

"Go tell it on the mountain, up over the hills and everywhere, go tell it on the mountain, tell them something, I don't care."

Hydroponics That was a good place to go when you wanted to get away from the rest of the ship, wasn't it? Honestly, it reminded Jake of the landscape underneath Erik's house and the Chee that tended to run around down there. The Chee. There was a group he hadn't bothered to think about in long time. Especially since it brought up painful memories of his last battle. The Pool Ship. The Blade Ship. Tom. What might have been, if the dracon beams hadn't been disabled.

That was in the past though – a very long time in the past. Something more recent was troubling him today. For once, he wasn't dwelling on his own perceived failures or what he planned to do once he and the other Animorphs found a way to start contributing to the war effort. The whole affair with SHODAN and the killer robots had rattled him and not much seemed to rattle him anymore. He'd been totally powerless for most of it, hiding out from robots, unable to strike back. No way to morph, no way to escape. Just him and his fragile human body versus robots. It hadn't led to him getting hurt, of course, but for some reason it stayed with him at the back of his mind. What would he have done if he'd had to fight? How could he have fought?

He'd been morphing for seven years and when he felt as if he'd lost the power, it had made him stop and think. His whole adult life had been defined by his ability to morph. Without it, he didn't even have the military job back home. He didn't have anything. He was just a smart (arguably) kid who had fought a war. Jake frowned and ran a hand through his hair as he stared hard at a particular tree.

Why was he spending so much time dwelling on it? He was alive. He could morph again. So why did losing that power, however briefly, still rattle him?

Maybe he would have to think a bit more. Jake sighed and then, after a brief moment of reflection, swung himself up onto the lower branch of a tree. He wasn't much of a climber, but maybe it'd help him think.