CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

No Promises, no guarantees. But I'm kind of on a roll...

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Sergeant Barret was absolutely, utterly, and completely bored. He was in the same place he had been for the last three hours, leaning up against the side of a panel van in a small wooded clearing while a small part of him mind yelled at him about military protocols. Or maybe it was more fair to say that the Yeerk agent currently controlling Sergeant Barret's body was leaning up against the side of the panel van while Sergeant Barret screamed fruitlessly from the depths of him own mind about parade rest and standing at ease. Either way, Yeerk Barret was bored.

They'd been assigned the relatively important task of locating a strategically crucial junction box and shutting down local area communications networks and then monitoring any attempted communications. They were to locate the correct telephone pole, isolate the junction box, and wait to receive orders to shut down communications. It had taken only twenty minutes to locate the correct telephone pole containing the crucial junction box. After that it had just been protecting said box from any potential interference (which had never manifested) until the order came through to shut it down. That order had been received nearly forty five minutes ago, but still Sergeant Barret was leaning lazily against the side of the panel van, completely bored out of his mind. Shutting off communications and isolating their targets were strategically crucial tasks. Even data mining for attempted communication efforts could give them valuable intel on the insurgents currently working against the Yeerk invasion forces. None of which changed the fact that for the past three hours Sergeant Yeerk Barret had been standing next to a panel van, watching a completely still tree line as another officer fiddled about with wires and communication networks connected to the junction box from his seat in the cherry picker attached to the van.

At least Lieutenant Stevens got to fiddle around with monitoring any attempts at communication with the outside world that might make it to the box. While it may not be the most exciting task, it sure seemed a lot better than kicking shapes into the dirt and leaves with your toe. But Yeerk Barret had never fully adapted to Earth technology, and the human host he was occupying had not received adequate training in communications technology to be useful in this endeavor. And so, Lieutenant Stevens got to spend the afternoon high up above the tree lines in a cherry picker, monitoring attempts at incoming transmissions and siphoning data for later intelligence review while Sergeant Barret stood on the ground, leaning against a van parked next to a telephone pole in a small little clearing, bored out of his mind.

Yeerk Barret glanced up just in time to see a bird of prey disappear below the tree line. 'Hawk' Sargent Barret's repressed mind supplied with minimal resistance. Hunter, not uncommon in these areas, feeding primarily on small rodents or other birds. Yeerk Barret chuckled darkly at the thought of some unsuspecting field mouse becoming a quick meal.

The trees fell silent again and Yeerk Barret groaned quietly in a mixture of boredom and annoyance. A faint rustling in the branches around him made Barret look up again. A small grey squirrell bounded through the trees, probably trying to avoid being a second course. Yeerk Barret watched with only idle interest, his eyes following the small animals rapid progress in a vain attempt to break up the tedium. He watched as the squirrel jump from branch to branch, rustling through the trees as it came to a tree along the edge of the clearing close to where the van was parked. The Yeerk didn't even have time to wonder what the squirrel was doing as it scrabbled down the rough, thick bark of the tree and skittered through the leaves and loose underbrush before it was too late to act.

If he had been able to tell what the squirrel was thinking, however, it would have been something along the lines of-

'Oh man, this is going to suck.'

And with that, the small fuzzy creature disappeared up the right leg of the soldiers' combat trousers.

In his time on earth, Ax had needed to adjust to many things. Not being able to communicate so freely on this planet had definitely been one of the biggest ones. Back home, it was a constant stream of feelings and impressions, ebbing and flowing in and out and around him. The telepathic flow of many minds was like a warm comforting buzz constantly on low in the back of his mind. One could communicate clearly with friends and family from miles away, but it was more than that. The slightest impressions of psychic contact were often enough to convey a wealth of messages. The Aura's of his fellow Andalite's constantly surrounding him, like a warm blanket.

The moment he'd arrived on earth, it had been different. Humans did not communicate the same way, with colors and impressions and images. They required words, so many words, too many for Ax to keep up with. And their signals were so faint, it took so much of his energy just to make contact with them. Without the warm buzz of constant telepathic and empathic signals swarming past him he felt unbelievably cold, and lonely.

He was incredibly indebted to his earth friends. They had taken him in when they really had no reason to and saved his life. But it didn't change the fact that he still felt lonely, that he still felt alone.

Until he'd seen her that is.

Cassandra's Aura had called to him, bright and gleaming. A light calling him like a bug to a bug zapper. Only, when he had stood near her, he didn't get zapped. Instead he felt the warm, familiar glow of a strong psychic connection with another sentient being.

He could feel that glow now, faint and flickering. The bright purple aura tinged with sharp turquoise, but a sickly pale yellow of fear has started to creep into the corners. It made Ax' throat tight and chest twinge. The thought of Cassandra, afraid, in danger, and possibly hurt, sent a shiver through him that shook Ax to his core.

He could feel the tingle of his skin changing, the limits of his two hours was nearly up. He'd been running through the woods in desperate pursuit of Cassandra since the moment he'd seen her faint tracks dug into the leaf strewn earthen floor. Tobias had long since fallen behind, but Ax no longer cared. His only thoughts were for finding Cassandra and preventing her from coming to harm.

He would not let anything happen to her.

He couldn't.

Lieutenant Andrew Stevens had spent almost six years working his way up the ranks of the NORAD technical support team. He'd started at the tender age of 21, just after completing his Master's degree in Computer Engineering. Now 27, the young man had loved his job. He could frequently be found cyphering through data or working on complex coding problems, even long after he was formally considered off duty. The Lieutenant had been notorious for accumulating time off, not taking a single vacation in over three years.

Eventually the General had forcibly frog marched him off the base, ordering the young man to spend at least a few days outside of the mountain. 'Everyone need some down time son.' That was what he'd said. And Stevens had reluctantly been forced to agree.

The first two days were spent holed up in his garage, pouring over old coding and data mining problems. It was only on the third day when he'd finally emerged, being forced to make the short walk to the local corner store in search of more coffee and some form of food stuff that was actually edible (the moldy loaf of bread on his counter and scattered condiments in his fridge were most definitely not in that category anymore). It was on the walk there that something miraculous happened. The perpetual Colorado cloud cover had parted, revealing beautiful sunny skies and a clear blue day. Stevens enjoyed his walk to the corner store so much he stopped by the local park on his way back. Sitting on a bench guarding his groceries, eating his recently purchased hot dog, basking in the sunshine and clear breeze, Stevens sat back and finally began to enjoy his time away from the mountain.

And that, of course, was when everything went wrong.

Lieutenant Stevens may have been a first class airman and had served in a military base for the last six years. But the vast majority of that time had been spent pouring over computer consoles. He had his yearly physical, and routine combat and weapons training, but none of it had been put to very much use in the last half decade or so, and he was sorely out of practice.

He was ashamed to admit it, but he had made an all too easy target sitting completely at ease on the park bench, watching the day go by around him.

Stevens didn't remember much of what had happened next. He knew he'd felt a sharp pain in his neck, right before an elderly gentleman had come up asking if he was alright. He'd been unable to respond as the man lead him away, talking about getting him help. Seconds later he'd been moved to the back of an old ford, non-descript and completely forgettable. Shortly after that he'd blacked out, only to wake up screaming and useless from the back of his own mind as he watched his body move about completely without his permission.

Even now, the Lieutenant kicked and screamed and fought back with everything he could. But none of it was enough to even so much as make his captors fingers falter as they danced across the portable keyboard jacked into a communications junction box as the alien used his own intimate knowledge of earth technology to siphon precious communications data. Nothing Andrew Stevens did seemed to make any difference to the alien slug taking over his body, but that didn't mean that the Lieutenant was going to make it easy on him.

He was currently singing 'Row Row Row Your Boat' in his loudest and most annoying voice possible in the hopes of distracting the alien agent. But it was the scream that came from the ground that eventually caught the slugs' attention. Leaning precariously out of cherry picker, Yeerk Stevens was watching Yeerk Barret dance and hop and scream and dash around the empty clearing in the most bizarre display imaginable.

"Hey! What's going on down there!?" The Yeerk called down to its compatriot. But the other alien didn't reply. Instead, he ran sideways towards the truck, desperately grabbing at his own clothes. The soldier slammed into the side of the van with enough force to wobble Stevens in his precarious position. "Hey! Watch it!"

But Yeerk Barret payed him no mind. The soldier was still desperately grabbing at his own clothing. First his pants, then his shirt, and then his pants again. The awkward dance went on for a few more unbelievable moments before Barret seemed to trip and stumble over his own feet. His body tipped forward, hands still caught up in his own clothing, and was unable to stop himself as he smacked face first into the leaf strewn forest floor and lay, unmoving. A half a moment later a small fuzzy grey shape could be seen exiting from Barret's still form. Yeerk Stevens whipped around to the other side of the cherry picker, looking for the fuzzy gray object to reappear on the other side of the vehicle.

Instead, what did happen was such an odd series of events that it would take two days, yet another bizarre series of events, and a teenager with a white board to help him make sense of it.

There was a frustrated cry from what sounded like some kind of eagle. A sudden rattle shook the van so much that yeerk Stevens had to crouch down in the picker lift and clutch onto the railing to prevent being dismounted. The van lurched again, this time to the side, and Yeerk Stevens struggled to regain his footing as he glanced over the side to try and determine what was happening.

That was a mistake.

The van lurched violently, tipping to an almost 45 degree angle. Yeerk Stevens had still managed to maintain his balance when suddenly lift buckled. He peered over the edge just in time to see an elephant with its trunk wrapped firmly around the boom lift, forcibly pushing the truck in one direction while yanking the cherry picker seat in another. This time, not even the Yeerks enhanced reactions and moderately improved strength were enough to keep his seating, and Stevens felt himself plummeting head first towards the forest floor. At the very last moment he felt something strong and leathery wrap around his waist, right before something hard and rough smacked into the back of his head and the world turned to darkness.

Standing next to two unconscious soldiers, an elephant slowly changed shape, first shrinking down to the small feather covered form of a red tailed hawk, before rising up from the ground like a plant growing in fast forward – that is of course if you replaced the plant with a gangly, awkward looking teenager.

Tobias starred at the two unconscious bodies lying sprawled on the leaf strewn ground around him and the van, let out a slow breath and forcibly tried to bleed the tension from his shoulders and drop them from where they were perched stiffly by his ears. The joints were still stiff however, and refused point blank to completely relax, only dropping so far. He knew he would never be able to completely relax until all his friends were at his side, safe, and out of danger.

Letting out another shaky breath, Tobias steeled himself as best he could.

There was work to be done.

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