trans_9 | Closed to Animorphs and Guards.

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Closed to Animorphs and Guards.

His hands itched. So did the backs of his ankles. And his head hurt.

It was rather annoying to not be able to scratch the itch. The headache was more troubling. It was going to get worse, but for the moment it was just an ache behind his eyes, aggravating more for the reminder than the actual physical pain.

He was helpless.

He let his head lull forward, resting his chin on his chest and testing the bindings on his hands. They were solid, and it didn't give in the least. They didn't even have the decency to scratch the damned itch.

He was hungry, and that would get worse as well. He had a feeling the current small portions of food would continue until he starved. He would get the added pleasure of his host's hunger making his own worse.

< They're going to kill you. > Tom's voice was soft, invasive, and annoying.

< That should make you happy. You're getting everything you wanted, aren't you Tommy-boy? >

The host was silent, considering.

Iniss kept his head down, soon, perhaps, one of his jailers would decide to lecture him, and who knew what might happen then?

If he pretended to be asleep, maybe they would just leave him alone.

((Occ: Give me what day you're on when you tag in, and we'll just do it sorta day by day? I guess? Maybe? Suggestions?)

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Marco wasn't going to lecture. Sure, gloating was gonna be fun - but he had three days to do that. Besides, right now Marco had a different task to attend to. (The fact that this task just happened to also have great potential to rub it in was pure coincidence! Honest.)

So instead he just sat down with that bag he'd taken off of Iniss earlier, and started going through it.

Iniss didn't move for a moment, keeping up the sham of sleep until he heard the rustle of something being unpacked.

What were these miserable humans going to do now

He lifted his head slowly, already scowling when he spotted Marco.

< Told you so. >

< Shut up. >

The fact that his host of all people had been the one to spot the errors in the story, and not himself was only making the entire situation worse.

The annoyance only rose when he spotted what, exactly, Marco was pawing through. "That is mine, you thieving monkey."

"No, it's Tom's," Marco's said casually as he pulled out a pencil case. He opened it up and started sifting through the pens (hey, you never know. Maybe the Yeerks had taken a leaf out of James Bond's book and started making Dracon beam pens). "That body's not yours either. Tom'll get his stuff back when you're dead."

"So casual when discussing murder. I suppose you're an old hand at this?" The words were almost growled, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"That doesn't change that those things are mine, and as for this body..." He shrugged a shoulder. "What is that human saying? "Possession is 9/10s of the law"? I'm using this body, that makes it mine, by humanities own reasoning."

< You really misjudged him. How's it feel, getting outsmarted by a human kid I used to play video games with? Who Jake built a pillow fort in the living room with? Feels pretty nice on this side of things. >

< No one asked for your input, shut up. >

< You thought he was an idiot, but he's smarter than you, pulled the best trick ever, didn't he? Marco always was a good actor. Should have listened, I guess. But now you, like the empire, will be destroyed. I think the world's smallest violin is playing you a sad, sad song. >

At that, Marco looks up at Tom for a moment, his eyes cold. "Yes," he says simply. "Or hadn't you noticed? People die in war. You get to be one of them."

He put the pencil case aside, having rummaged through it thoroughly. He reached into the bag again, pulling out some history book. "And that saying doesn't mean 'I have it, therefore it's mine.'" Marco smirked, and waved the history book around. "If we went by that logic, that would make all of this mine now, wouldn't it?"

Iniss scowled. "War? What war. We're not at war, and if you're using that as your justification...well, murder always sounds reasonable to the murderer, doesn't it Marco? And I'm not human, so what should my life matter? I bet you feel the same way about your Andalite friend. Or because he's cute and furry and evolution blessed him with his own, stable body, have you forgiven him the sin of being an alien? Just like a human, if it's small and fuzzy and cute, we'll keep it as a pet. If it's ugly, we'll cook it for dinner. And you think you have the moral high ground."

He snorted faintly. "I have it, and I don't hear the owner speaking up to lay claim to it, do you Marco?" The words were mocking, and quite a bit more callus than he'd normally have been. But the brat was pissing him off.

< I speak up plenty. >

< And no one can hear you still, nice, isn't it, how easy that can be side stepped? >

"I, on the other hand, am speaking up and laying claim to my things."

Cassie was flying overhead, literally keeping a birds-eye-view on the whole thing. She couldn't hear what was being said. If she did, she would definitely have more to say, and she was already feeling a little bad about this. She knew about Iniss's personality, but... starvation wasn't a good way to go. It was... inhumane, but how else could they get him out of Tom. Especially with the others being unwilling to work anything out. There had to be something, but what?

She wasn't really looking forward to keeping her own watch over him. That is when she wasn't in morph.

But although she couldn't hear what they were saying, she had no problems seeing it. Even from her place in the artificial sky she could still count the hairs on Marco's head. It was one of the advantages of being a bird of prey. And she had to say something about Marco's rummaging. < What are you doing? >

It was Loren's turn to stand guard. She had asked specifically to do it on the last day.

She didn't normally consider herself a blood thirsty person. She was a just a normal young woman. But it just so happened that not too long ago, she'd also had a yeerk in her head.

They'd given it a chance to come out, to save its life. It refused.

Loren smacked the tip of her baseball bat against her hand.

She wasn't normally blood thirsty. But if she had to describe the way she felt at this moment, she would have to say satisfied.

Iniss was a simple yeerk, really. If a bit of a manic one, at the moment, starvation gnawing at him and rolling his host's stomach into knots to the point that he couldn't even force the body to eat and keep things down.

Tom had stopped laughing at him, withdrawing into an iron hard core at the back of his mind and trying to block the chaos out.

But he was still a simple yeerk, a simple creature. He just wanted what everyone else wanted. A life, a few minions, safety, security, a stable host body with good senses that wasn't prone to sobbing and depressed behavior.

He had a healthy fear for the woman standing in the middle of the room. A very healthy, sane fear.

"Can't believe they'd let you guard me...you already tried to kill me once. A little unstable for guard duty, aren't you? I'm pretty sure the want this body intact or they'd just toss me out the air lock." He was babbling, a little, hands clenched into fists to keep them from shaking. Any distraction, even the terrifying crazy woman, was more than welcome. "Have you always been this crazy, or was it a recent development? I mean, I don't know much about females of any species, but traveling with a giant bladed weapon in your pocket seems a little nuts. Or maybe you ended up in the wrong body. Better suited for a Hork-Bajir maybe. Or considering your so called morality, an Andalite."

Of course Elfangor took a round of guard duty. He waited until the second day though. The day where the Yeerk would have time to process what was going on, but would also have time to actually think for the choice he would offer. One could refuse from irrationality, but give him time and the Yeerk might be rational.

Besides, he'd heard there was after affects on the host from when a Yeerk starved, so it'd be nice if he took it for Tom's sake. But as long as the Yeerk was dealt with, it didn't matter.

Even if something still made him...curious.

< Hello, Yeerk, > Elfangor said, the tone professional and calm. < You know who I am? >

Marco rolled his eyes at Cassie's comment - come on, he wasn't in morph right now. How exactly did she expect him to answer? As for what he was doing - well, he was making sure the Yeerk hadn't kept anything that was a risk to them in there. The fact that he could rub it in to Iniss at the same time was just a bonus.

"As long as you Yeerks are taking away people's freedom, we're at war," Marco said to Iniss flatly. "And you aren't gonna die because you're not human. You're going to die because it's you or Tom. Free or dead, Yeerk. For taking away Tom's freedom, you die."

He set the history book aside and pulled out two other books - both about some woman called Maya Angelou, whoever that was. He flicked through them casually - though when he saw some of the passages that had been highlighted, he paused for just an instant - before tossing them on top of the history book.

Iniss knew exactly who the Andalite standing in the middle of the room was.

Exactly.

He felt no loss of pride in shifting back the fraction of an inch he was able to move, eyes on the deadly tail. His throat felt unusually dry and scratchy when he spoke, dropping a few octaves, though he didn't look away from the deadly blade. "Yes, Andalite, I know who you are."

< I saw him die.... > the words were soft, the first murder he'd witnessed still present in the mind of the host.

"I have it on good authority that you should be dead." He had meant to make it sound conversational, but he couldn't disguise the fear.

< Yes. I should be. Amazing what a ship that travels through time can do, > Elfangor said. < Though, I assure you, I am very much alive right now. >

"So quick to judge. So quick to dismiss anything that doesn't fall into line with your own beliefs. How much blood is on your hands, Marco? How many lives have you so callously disregarded?"

His eyes were on the things, annoyance clear on his face. Those were his things. Marco had no right to be riffling through them. "Looking for something? Or do you just like throwing things around for no reason?"

If he dug around enough, he'd find some things Iniss would rather him not have.

< Not a nice feeling is it? Someone going through what's yours and being helpless to do anything about it? Even if they decide to destroy it? >

"Shut up." The words were a growl, directed internally. He hadn't actully meant to say them.

"I can see that." His eyes didn't move from the very lethal tail. "Time travel always confused me."

< It's better to just smile and nod when it comes to something like that, > Elfangor said. < But my life isn't the issue right now. Right now, it's yours. >

"Excuse me if I don't feel much like smiling at the moment." He sank back a little more, wishing his hands were unbound just so he could get away. "I know, you're going to kill me. I've heard the speech." His tone was bitter, eyes still on the tail.

< Now that, would depend entirely on you. > Elfangor said. < You have no chance of winning. You are defenseless. And to kill an enemy in that circumstance without giving them a chance to surrender would be dishonorable. So I will give you that choice, Yeerk. Leave your host before you die and you will be put into stasis. Do not, then you already know your fate. >

"So, I should trust a cold blooded killer with his promise of safety?" His voice was soft, head dropping as he spoke. "How many millions of my brother and sister yeerks have you killed, Elfangor the Hero?" There was a hint of bitterness to his voice, something that in other sentient creature might have been a mingling of fear and regret. This was not how he would have chosen to die, if he'd been given a choice. He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at the Andalite. "You'll kill me if I leave my host, you'll kill me if I stay. Either way, it's been made clear that I won't leave this room alive. I can choose the manner of my death, and I would rather die with one last impression of color and light and sound than helpless and at your mercy."

She flew lower so she could actually hear them. It would be a long time with her own thoughts haunting her mind if she didn't. This was all making her a little uneasy. Starvation was never a good thing. She knew why Marco was looking through the bags, but that didn't make it right to snoop. Still, she didn't say anything about it... yet.

She didn't agree with what Marco said... she herself had been a yeerk. She herself felt the absolute joy of being blind then being able to see again, in all the vibrant beauty there was. She knew how Iniss was like in her time. That even with the morphing powers he still chose to keep control over Tom. She knew they had to free Tom, but death...

Then there was Iniss' comments. She stopped killing after the hork-bajir incident, at least she tried to keep it to injuring only, but that didn't stop the others. She couldn't stop the others, she was still an accomplice. It never sat right with her even if it was in self defense.

< I have never killed a Yeerk who has surrendered to me. I will kill my enemy, but I will never do so dishonorably, > Elfangor said, his tone that calm seriousness. He had dealt with these accusations before and he has long since leaned to not let them get to him.

< The offer stands. As long as you surrender, you will be put into stasis. Be it now or the verge of death, you will be given that choice. Some of the others are not happy with even offering it, but this is the only way to be sure that we are better than the enemy. >

Loren smirked. "Is that supposed to be an insult? I'm sure you can do better than that. Don't worry, I'm sane enough to make sure you don't try anything. Actually, I guess you should worry." She leaned forward. "Unless you want to make things easy on everyone and crawl out of there." Loren didn't know what it was like to have a yeerk starved out of your body but she did know that when she had been infested the prospect of it had terrified the yeerk in her own head enough that it left. It couldn't be pleasant, for Iniss (as little as she cared about his fate) or Tom.

"I don't believe you Elfangor, and even if I did, what's to stop your human allies from killing me once I'm helpless? The only thing holding them back at the moment is the fact that my host body is important to them, otherwise they would have already killed me and be done with it. If my host had been a Hork-Bajir, or a Taxxon....they wouldn't have even paused." He looked away, pressing his lips into a thin line. "You know, I have done nothing to anyone since I came on board, even very nearly at the expense of my own life had the ship not intervened. I've kept my head down, I haven't started any riots, and if Marco hadn't had the foreknowledge that I was a yeerk, do you think anyone would have even found me out?" He didn't mention Dani, or the potential for synthetic hosts that she seemed so eager to try.

Why would the Andalite believe him after all?

< They are not monsters. They are warriors, and the fact they let me offer is enough for me to trust they would keep their word, > Elfangor said. Even if they were obviously not pleased, especially Marco.

< There are psychics on board, > Elfangor pointed out. < You would have been found eventually. Just as Yeerks were found out before when they were on board. >

Though he did bring up something interesting. < You shot at the ground and not at Loren. Why? >

"Merely making conversation, you wouldn't deny a dying creature a little chit chat, would you? And I'm more concerned about you doing something, to be frank. You seemed pretty willing to harm my host to get to me before."

He leaned back a little more, trying to get away from her, stomach giving a lurch as he did so. "I think you're insane, you should see if they have pills for that."

< Tell her I like her. >

< Tell her yourself, do I look like a telephone? >

< I can't yet. >

< Then tell her when I'm dead and she's not looming over you. >

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Closed to Animorphs and Guards.

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