Cassandra's Children:

Prologue

She was restless that night. Although the red blaring numbers of the clock declared that she should be asleep at least by now, reading to wake up in not too long, sleep would not come to her that night. She had tried laying in bed, but that only gave her more place to brood and wonder, and such thoughts needed the honesty of standing up, if not to the sunlight, for it would be a while to wait until the light came to drive the ghosts away. For now, though, all she could do was to look out the large, window, the one that in nice times of year would open out to the balcony, and let them come.

She had dealt well with the loss, she knew. That had been her specialty, identifying and dealing with emotions, even when she was young. It had practically been her role in the group, with Rachel as the driven warrior, Marco for morale, Tobias for an eye in the skies, Aximilli for the link to the Andalites, and Jake . . . Jake.

Oh, Jake . . .No.

She shook her head at that, closed her eyes and rubbed her temples with delicate fingers. She mustn't think about them. That group, the Animorphs -- Animorphs! She almost laughed sometimes at how childish that sounded -- was in the past. While still bound by the ties of blood and friendship and . . .love . . ., they had split up after the arrival of the Andalites. Rachel and Tobias had joined the new Terran Military Force, working together as pilots of the starwing fleet. The last she had heard, Tobias had been made commander of the Terran base in the Andalite sector, and Rachel had been promoted Lieutenant-Commander of the Gaia base. Marco, while he had resolved not to fight anymore, still helped the cause by engineering computer programs based on salvaged Yeerk and Andalite technologies. It was mostly to his credit that the Terran forces were quickly catching up to the rest of the powers in the galaxy, the Ssira, the Garatrons, the Leerans and the Tunderoids. They had already conquered the Yeerks,and, while Earth was a long way away, they were close approaching the Andalites. They now had advancements like Z-space travel, light weapons, universal translators, and the near-lightspeed travel, the engineering of which had helped the Terran forces turn the tables against the Yeerks in their attempt at invasion.

One thought led to another, all paths leading to the same destination, and soon she was thinking of that horrible day --- she turned away from the the window, as if blocking the light from her vision could also block the memories. Her dark skin gleamed in the moonlight, creating a profile of shadow on the walls. But there was no way to block them out. Finally, she knelt on the floor, and, hands on her face, succumbed to the memory of that day so long ago.

She had been in her office, filing papers for her newest patients. She had recently become in charge of the state's veterinary clinic, and was more busy than ever. Then the door burst open.

It was Ten'no Misao, her assistant. Misao had recently graduated from veterinary school, and was still full of vigor and excitement. She often came rushing into Cassandra's office in great excitement, whether it was because an in-patient had made a miraculous recovery, or some guy had called her and invited her somewhere. The two of them, despite their great differences in age and status, were good friends.

"Cassie-san!" she exclaimed. She had been an exchange student from Japan, though she chose to stay and work in America -- at least for a time. Because of that, she had still addressed Cassandra by the various titles of formality, even though she preferred to be spoken to on an informal, first-name, no-title basis, even by her old childish nickname if it was a friend. In fact, it had taken a while to keep her from calling her Robinson-san or even -sama, due to the fact that she was not only a prominent veterinarian, and ecologist, but she had also been highly acclaimed for her work in helping people before and after the war; there had even been a nomination for her winning the Nobel Peace Prize. Misao had always held her in high regard, even something of a role model, a hero.

"Cassandra-san," she said again."Turn on the T.V.! Quick!"

While Misao was easily excitable, she would never come in saying something like that with such urgency unless there was a reason. And, at this time, there most likely was. Cassandra quietly rose from her seat and went over to the small television/communicator that was set in the wall. Pressing two buttons, it simultaneously flickered on and turned to the Earth News Channel, where a reporter was going over live coverage of new developments in the war.

The war. It had been twenty-seven years --hard to believe all that time had gone by-- since they and the Andalites had won victory over the Yeerks, who had retreated to some distant, long-abandoned planet to colonize their new dominion on. There had been mostly peace after that. But then, a new race came into the picture: the K'jorla. They were relatively new to the rest of the galaxy -- while they had extremely advanced technology, it was the first time they had ventured out into space. They sped through the galaxy, studying planets as they went. Soon, they found one that, while different from their homeworld, was just suited for a second home to them.

Being the only species of sentience and intelligence they had ever known of, the K'jorla had not seen why they could not simply take this planet that, in the usual fashion, had been, like so many planets,  called in the language of the dominant species, "homeworld" -- Earth. They attempted to colonize the planet, but were turned back by the Terran forces. The K'jorla responded to this by attacking in full force. Not wanting to start a war without precedent, the people of Earth sent out probes and emisionaries who would try to work something out with the K'jorla. They were all harshly destroyed. It was not long until it was a full-out war.

The Earth News Channel provided daily coverage, and Cassandra tuned in to watch it whenever she could. The thing was, Jake was fighting in this war. When battle first broke out, Jake's name was near the top of the list of requested leaders and fighters to help. He had made a name for himself in the last part of the Yeerk-Andalite war, when Earth had gotten involved. Although he was asked to fight, it was also said to them that Jake had served his nation, his planet, well, and he would not have to take the command if he did not wish. But Jake still, after all he had given, still felt the responsibility to defend his people. She had begged him not to go -- no, that wasn't right. She had tried to persuade him to stay, or at the very least take a short-term military post somewhere safe, not go flying straight into danger and death. But he did.

She remembered the flickering of the screen as they switched to the cameras attached to the outside of an orbiting space station. It panned wide, scanning the dark expanse of space lit up by ships glimmering with Dracon shots.

The Earth ships rose up in delta formation, a sharp triangle with a single fighter as it's head. Jake. It was Jake's fleet. The Alpha Gold. They hovered there, preparing for an attack, praying that the enemy would back down.

Then there was the K'jorla group. They had a much different formation, all arranged into a tight cluster like a multifaceted sphere. Even the ships looked very different, a lot like travel pods. They were made of egg-shaped devices ringed on the top with small raised circles, and on the bottom with sharp ornaments that looked like razor leaves, giving the whole thing an appearance of a plant sprout. But they all know well from past experiences that they could be deadly.

Then came for the strategy. Cassandra watched, biting her lip. The newsanchor said, "Here we have live footage showing what seems to be the beginning of a new battle. Here is the elite Terran force, the Alpha Gold, protecting the space station Pallas, as well as the companion fleet Gamma Five." But the voice was soft, reverent, knowing as well as everyone the potential for those pilots to live or die, for the tables to turn in one side or another's favor for the war.

The K'jorla ships had been pointed toward the Pallas station. But suddenly, they turned, a smooth, simultaneous rotation of the round, central objects, so that their front helms were all facing the Alpha Gold fleet. "Jake," Cassie had whispered, praying for his victory.

Then they all broke apart, and the battle began.

First the Terran ships scrambled, in a matter of seconds changing from a goose-like V formation to thirty craft, working together to try to destroy the K'jorla cluster while they were faced away from the station.

It was a flurry of flying ships and shield glimmers and shots of light then, the violet of human-modified ship Dracons, and the yellow glow of the K'jorla's own energy weapons. Each ships were armed with energy shields, which glowed and glimmered when hit. Unfortunately, the K'jorla were much better at taking hits.

The Earth ships were holding out, though. They had managed to destroy three enemy craft, and with their superior speed and maneuverability, they had a chance at evading the powerful-yet-slow energy blasts and getting past their solid shields. But then the K'jorla seemed to pull out a new ace. They moved closer together, the leaf like structures surrounding them extended outward, eventually locking together as they all joined. Their tops glowed, and surges of power were visible coursing through them as they collected energy. The Terran fighters pulled up, but were carefully to stay moving, and scattered. They knew, Jake knew, that whatever energy would come out of them would be a powerful blast, based on their previous shots it would be enough to destroy a large structure.

The space station! Cassandra gasped as she remembered the source of the camera --- the Pallas station was one of Earth's most important military outposts aside from the Gaia on the other side of Earth, and the Huitzilpoctli with the Tilon allies in the Callisto system. So it was no real surprise, only confirmation to her horror, when the focus fronts of the podlike ships rotated once again, their glowing single eyes staring down the camera and all of Pallas. It would be the station's destruction. Not only that, but there were over 2,000 people there, twenty major warships, and countless fighters, at any given time. It would be a tremendous loss. The Pallas should have been more heavily guarded. It was just that they had never known they had such capabilities before. In the past the most advanced Z-space travel they had required a large energy source as a target, like a star. They would have to emerge near the sun and travel through a minimum of three Earth days before being able to reach a place like Pallas or Earth. But this time, there had only been a shimmer in the barriers of real space, and there they had appeared, past the guard around the asteroid belt.

Staring at the soulless, malevolent eyes of the K'jorla ship weapons, still collecting energy for their deadly blast, through the telescreen, everyone in the room transfixed, Cassandra could only send her thoughts out to Jake, and pray to whatever deity could hear her.

Please, Jake, it's up to you. It's all up to you.

Please don't let him die.

The K'jorla weapon-collective was just about done. A golden light now radiated around the dark seeds, something that would have been beautiful had it not been so destructive. In the front, the beam collected in a circular area directly in front of Pallas . . .

And the Alpha Gold leader plunged into its heart.

The one lone ship, with the gold markings of the Terran Starfleet and of Squadron leader, dove into the collective energy field, disrupting the connections in a insane explosion of ships and light weapons, like a tiny supernova.

NO!!

As Jake's ship, and all the other ships made their various reactions and sub-explosions on each other, the energy wave spread out and hit the camera, causing the picture to vanish into static.

And right there, in front of all her respected employees and colleagues, Cassandra let out an anguished scream.

The newsanchor came on again, speaking solemnly, but with the light of triumph in her eyes. "The Pallas station is safe. The enemy ships have been destroyed." She paused, taking a break and blinking back something from her eyes, "though only through the daring sacrifice of our brave Alpha Gold leader, Major Jake Aadler." Now quiet, Cassandra's eyes brimmed with tears as they showed a picture of Jake in starfleet uniform, already pulled up from the military computer files and sent to the media for instant upload to the telescreen network. As a soft, reverent rendition of "Taps" played, she had collapsed on the floor in tears. She vaguely thought there had been a hand on her shoulder, but if there was she couldn't remember it.

Just as she was now, kneeling on the carpet, hands on her face as it all replayed. After the trauma of seeing Jake die, right there, she had had to compose herself, go home, and tell the children. Donovan, Cassie, and even little Kyra, Kyra who had cried for weeks at the injustice when her beloved dog died. How could she tell it to them? But she did. And she felt like something had died inside of her, standing in front of the children and explaining to them with a stone face that their father had died in a space battle, though giving a tremendous victory in the process, with only three tears escaping from her eyes to stream down her cheeks.

She felt it, the wound that slashed on her children's hearts. The triple impact that matched her own, injuring in their own ways. She stepped over to embrace them all   with her arms wide spread, holding little Kyra to her, who was clutching her pant leg, Cassie and even Donovan, fifteen and considering himself too old, the four remainders of their family gathered for support.

"It's all right," she said softly. "We'll be fine. We can --- we'll never forget him -- but we can go on without him." She thought to say more, bring it to a stirring conclusion, but her voice broke and she choked on her own unspoken words.

Cassandra, in the present, still crying in her empty bedroom. Still dredged down in the memories. It had been many long nights before this one, where she had sat in silence, contemplating her sorrows, trying to cleanse them from her soul. But she never quite could. Maybe they would remain with her for the rest of her life.

At least Jake had died for a good cause though. Just as she had always feared he would die at the hands of Visser Three and the Yeerks during that first war that took away their childhood, he died fighting for his planet against yet another enemy.

With the Pallas safe, though, and such a large fleet of K'jorla ships destroyed in that chain reaction, it was a step up for Earth. After placing more fighters around their important strongholds, and making a few more offensive moves, it was not long until the enemy was crushed. They sent a surrender signal and then retreated back to the far reaches of the galaxy from where they had come. Not since then had they heard of the people who called themselves K'jorla.

She stood up and walked to the window, throwing back the curtains and opening the large balcony doors. It was bitterly cold outside, and the wind whipped against her robe. Pulling it tighter to herself, she looked up into the sky. The night sky was unusually clear and bright, each of the stars radiating their own light, only slightly drowned out by the nearly full moon and, although much smaller and dimmer, the still visible Pallas station. She averted her eyes from it.

But in looking away, she was also forced to look at the other heavenly bodies. All the other stars in the heavens had their own significance, told their own sagas, waged their own wars. Beyond that seeming veil of heaven were childhood friends sitting at the commanding help of starships, allies on a pact and enemies, lurking as they waiting to attack at the opportune moment.

Looking up at them, she resolved to herself, for all those people's sakes, not to let herself break down, to be strong for the people here on Earth to whom she must be ever constant, and for those people of the future who would in turn depend on her own children. Hers, and the other Animorphs'.

Back to Fanworks
Back to the Vortex