<Andalites. We do not possess other creatures, we morph them. There is no mind we are commanding or overriding, just our own.> This is a MORALLY IMPORTANT DISTINCTION.

:Ah. So it is a construct-body that has no mind of its own and ceases to exist when you stop 'morphing' it?: 

<Yes.>

:What a fascinating capability. Thank you for answering my questions: 

Leareth is far from certain that he knows all the relevant pieces here, and he's also not at ALL taking at face value this random scout's claim that his leadership is in no way going to conquer Velgarth or kidnap mages to fight in their war for them or whatnot. Still, he know enough to gamble that his best move is to stop antagonizing the Andalites any further, back off, and let them orient. 

He drops the last compulsion, and destabilizes the force-barrier and thought-communications shield so that they'll come down in about thirty seconds, then passes some quick Mindspeech orders to the other mages he came with, steps back, and casts an unscaffolded Gate, opening to a nondescript underground room. He steps through and the Gate vanishes. 

Twenty seconds after that, the Andalite can move freely again and the barrier against communications is down. 

He is going to report all of this!

- wow okay this is far too many things going on. If there aren't any Yeerks on this planet they need to get back into orbit immediately; they are very obviously in a bad position here on the ground. 

It is really unfortunate that a human knows about the contingency plan to destroy Earth. It is one of about eight really unfortunate things about the present situation. 

Has the representative for the other, apparently entirely unrelated human faction that is aware of their presence here gotten close enough to talk to, yet?

Vanyel is now just past the Valdemaran border, still riding all-out on his apparently tireless Companion. He's well over a hundred miles from the crashed ship but he's still in Thoughtsensing and Farsight range of the scout he was following. 

Well, there's no need to take him right to the ship. They've repaired some of the damaged, smaller shuttle planes. 

He gets into one, directs it south. It is shielded against observation by Andalites and Yeerks and every other force they've heard of; he has no idea whether the locals will notice it approaching.

Vanyel can't see it, and something is making his Thoughtsensing fuzzier, but he can still tell that something is approaching. He slows down. The road is getting a lot less safe for a full gallop, now that they're out of Valdemar and it's unpaved dirt. 

So they have absolutely no way to pass undetected to these people. That's - annoying.

This person almost certainly is in their own possession right now, or he'd have learned the location from the prisoner and not advertised that he was coming. 

That doesn't mean he isn't very dangerous.

He lands the shuttle, and waits to see how precisely the local humans with their extraordinary capabilities can find him.

Vanyel doesn't want to scare them, so he doesn't try to narrow down the location of the slightly-fuzzed mind. He waits on the road to see if they're here to talk to him. 

<I brought a shuttle here so we can speak, if you are still interested in doing so.>

:Yes, I am: Vanyel takes a deep breath. :I'm - sorry, about kidnapping your scout. We thought they were a spy from a different country, one we're currently at war with, and it took a while of questioning to determine that wasn't the case: 

<We would similarly extend an apology for causing you alarm when you were already at war.> Apparently with some other humans, horrifyingly enough. <The situation is very confusing, but perhaps when we've spoken we will be able to make more sense of it.>

A door opens in midair, and a ramp descends; the person who did this is not visible but the ramp is conveniently sized and sloped for Yfandes.

Vanyel hesitates, briefly, trying to decide if walking up the ramp into the apparently-invisible vessel is the sort of situation likely to get him killed. It's probably all right? And - worth some risk, he thinks, if he can make up for their awkward start and avoid accidentally starting a war with these people. 

:Van, you are not going in there without telling someone about it: 

:...Fine, I'll tell the relay: He's out of comfortable range of Tran, now, he could push it but he's already been abusing his Thoughtsensing for candlemarks, trying to stay on top of the bird-controlling person he was tracking. He can reach the closest Herald easily enough, though. 

They don't have full context on the situation yet - not that anyone has much context to work with - and they're very confused, but agree to pass on his message verbatim. 

Vanyel climbs the ramp. 

The little room is metal with glass windows and glass screens everywhere aside from the floor, which is a lush springy grass. The person standing there is bluish purple, approximately the size of Yfandes, with a tail the length of his body and four legs and two arms and four eyes.

<Hello> he says. <My name is War-Prince Matirin-Ashal-Nelinfir.>

Vanyel bows to him, unsure if he'll know what to make of the gesture. :My name is Herald-Mage Vanyel Ashkevron: his mind automatically completes 'Demonsbane' but he smacks that down. :This is Yfandes, my Companion. I am here to speak for King Randale of Valdemar. Thank you for being willing to come out and speak with me. Er, are you the leader of your people?: 

<I am the leader of the group of my people who landed on this planet.> Is Yfandes also a person? Are they one of those species with a symbiotic relationship - like Andalites, but the part with hands and the part with decent legs have separate brains somehow...he nods to her, just in case. 

:I'm a person: Yfandes confirms. :Most horses - er, animals shaped like me, I don't know if there are horses where you're from - anyway, most of them aren't people, but Companions are special. We Choose and bond to Heralds, Vanyel is my Chosen, but we're still separate people: 

:I'm still putting together what you landed on our world for: Vanyel confesses. :There was a war - some of your flying-void-ships were destroyed - the war is against slug-creatures that go into people's heads...?: 

<I think we landed on the wrong world when we attempted a hyperspace jump with a damaged starship. We were targetting a planet called Earth, which has about five billion humans and a similar atmosphere and ecology. I have never heard of two planets independently evolving the same species, so someone must have seeded the human populations on one or the other of the planets, but I think that makes more sense than our intelligence report about Earth having been so gravely mistaken on so many fronts.>

:Five...billion...?: Vanyel stares at the alien visitor. :No, I think you must be on the wrong world. We call this world Velgarth, and - there are half a million people in Valdemar, I think there can't be more than twenty million on the entire continent. How does a world possibly have so many people?: 

<They have developed many uses of technology that I think are unknown here. But they are extraordinarily numerous even by the standards of starfaring civilizations; thus their significance in the war. My people, the Andalites, are trying to prevent Yeerks from enslaving all of them and, with their five billion new hosts, the galaxy.>