B23C19 - Keep Fighting

His four-legged body mutated, growing a fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth leg! The tail disappeared altogether, and where there had been blue fur highlighted with tan, there was now a green, slimy, froglike skin.

I yanked Bek close, fought a wave of pain, and tried to dodge around the monster that Visser Three was becoming. But Bek was in full panic. He was yelping and crying and trying to get back to what probably seemed like the safety of the building.

I tried to lift him up but I was unfamiliar with my Hork-Bajir body, and worried about cutting the young Hork-Bajir with my blades. At last I managed to get an arm around Bek's middle and ran around the Visser's right side.

Too late!

SsssPASSSS!

A liquid the color of antifreeze squirted from the monster's pouting mouth. It missed me by millimeters and hit a fallen two-by-four.

Hsssssss!

Acid! In seconds the wood was smoking and disintegrating from the corrosion of the greenish-yellow acid.

<Hah-hah-hah!> Visser Three exulted. <Are you ready to surrender, Hork-Bajir? You're not a fighter! Your people were meant to be our slaves!>

Surrender. What an excellent idea. With Bek in my arms, I couldn't risk a direct attack on this hideous, acid-spitting alien freak.

"I surrender!" I cried.

<Down on your face, then,> he snapped. <I have Andalite bandits to deal with. Down on your face in the mud, slave. And keep hold of that little one, too.>

"Yes. Down on face," I said, trying my best to sound like a Hork-Bajir. I knelt and started to stretch out. And that's when Visser Three got overanxious. He started to rush past me, desperate to reach the others.

He stepped a little too near. And suddenly, instead of eight legs, he had five. One fast, powerful swipe of my arm. Blade! Blade! Blade! I was like that new three-blade razor.

<Arrggghhh!> he bellowed in pain and rage. He began to topple over, unable to support himself with his one left leg. But even as he fell, he twisted his head and took aim. Point-blank range.