elf!Andalites & Butterfly
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"But I don't want to live underground or wear a helmet," she says sweetly, "I want to establish an independent entity aboard my ship and have a little distance between me and Andalites who feel entitled to dictate the terms of my existence."

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<Then you have inconveniently mistaken us for people with the power to sign treaties on behalf of the human race, authority we do not have or anticipate having.>

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"I know who you are, and I know how useful your endorsement would be," she says. "I do not expect to hand you a pen and have a binding agreement for the Earth as a whole set to paper in the next ten minutes."

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<The only things we have the capacity to offer are sanctuary, morphing, and corroboration. I have offered you all three, but you seem both dissatisfied and utterly unable to articulate what would satisfy you. Can I see Matirin.>

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"I will need to clear a couple of people out of the way before I can open a corridor for you. They're going. Do you think I have been completely failing to pay attention to the way the Earthlings hang on your every word? Well, his, but I suspect the rest of you could have that sort of attention too if you wanted it. You can recite facts all day. I want you to produce an opinion. I want you to be enthusiastic about an independent nation of the Yeerk Resistance opening friendship and trade with the Earth. I want you to tell them it's the best news you've heard all decade. I want well-spun photo ops of me and mine shaking your hands. I want your considerable talents of orchestration aiming to put me and mine out of harm's way when the rest of you and yours make their belated way in. Take a left." One of the doors to Finleran's room opens.

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He does. He walks down the corridor. <If the Yeerk Resistance is in fact an organization whose existance we can greet with enthusiasm - if you categorically do not take nonconsenting hosts, and are not planning to oblige everyone to take that on faith - then we will have sincere enthusiasm to report, and we will do everything in our capacity to make sure you are safe, respected, and protected.>

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"I would depart Josefa for a moment but she has this repulsive habit of stroking me," says the Yeerk. "And you may need to revise your standards of categorical adherence to principles, however conveniently marvelous a time Josefa in particular happens to be having. Do you know what happens to brand new little Yeerks who are very insistent that they want permission before they go in someone's ear? There are some, every now and then, earnest babies born with consciences. They do not get hosts. They do not make rank. They do not take command of Pool ships and prepare to open fire on single-digit Vissers. They do not advance the cause. We cannot openly attempt to seek consent in a regime that considers it decorative, and there are a thousand ways to increase the chances but no way to guarantee it, and if anyone ought to know about compromise in service of a goal it should be the Andalites who detonated nuclear bombs in the atmosphere of an inhabited planet and then tried to mitigate the damage by handing out morph."

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<I would not testify to our own merits as trading partners and neighbors either. Matirin is telling himself that he can arrange it so he's the only one to spend the rest of his life in prison, but none of us are under the impression that we should not be accountable merely because we had poor, and few, choices. I understand you have limited control over what hosts your people have now, but they can get consenting ones on Earth and until they do they do not get photo ops.> He enters the room. He crosses it to Matirin and puts his tail at Matirin's throat. 

<What do you need from me?>

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<Talik's dead, I killed him ->

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<You would not be joining them, any of them, but I can - what do you need ->

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<A reason not to ->

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<You left Bella hanging, you're better at this than us, and I would have to take the fall when the fleet arrives.>

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<Thank you.>

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His tail settles back over his shoulder. <How can I enable you all to get consenting hosts as quickly as possible?>

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"If they're so easily come by, just line them up. I will not have trouble getting the hosts on this ship emptied out if you do not expect miracles of alacrity."

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<How many people are we looking at? Are animals morphed human acceptable, or is that no fun?>

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"A hundred and forty confirmed Resistance and however many more take the news of the change of management well enough, probably tens of thousands. I do not expect animals morphed human will work any better than animals not morphed human."

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<The brain architecture's the same as any humans', there's just no one steering. Is it safe to test?>

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"I would not expect it to be harmful, merely useless, particularly for anyone who had not previously picked up a human-spoken language. Time is somewhat dear, are these minutiae truly important?"

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<No. What else do you need?>

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"Confirmation from the rest of your people that they will abide by your acquiescence on the matter, and for you to go back in the hall before I'm distracted by shooting at things. I can't see behind me and don't care to turn my back on you."

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<Knock everybody out, if you can do it undetectably enough they will not notice and kill themselves, and then tell them yourself; under these conditions no one will take the fact a voice sounds like me as authoritative. Or destroy the Blade ship and get your cooperation later, you could still change tactics if we annoyed you further. Can I take Matirin with me?>

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She peers at the screens - "I can't get this one, he's somehow wound up in the 'ponics bay. Will he present an obstacle? And if you like." Keys, keys, Andalites fall over, Matirin's restraints snap open.

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<None of our people will disobey their commanders once it is verified it is us.> He helps Matirin stand. He leaves.

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"How do you verify that?" wonders her voice over the microphone.

(Explosions make no sound in space.)

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