this isnt wod what is this doing here

My name is Yemir 742.

I should have known this would happen. Security breach. Five Hork-Bajir escaped, ran off into the forests of this planet and will likely never be found. I'd seen the signs. I was right there, in their ringleader's head, and I didn't act to stop what I knew had to have been coming. I kept those abnormalities secret, observed in silence when I should have reported. And now I will keep this negligence secret, too. Despite everything, I don't want to die.

He had been my first host, and I didn't know what to expect. I'd heard the stories from the others as they returned to the pool, the terrifying rush of sensation, the colors and sounds. a complete change of perspective. It scared me, and it was right to. As I tapped into his senses I was sent reeling. More and more control, visual nerves snapping to life, filling newfound vision with blinding light. Detecting vibrations from the air, translating it to sound. Things every other species in the galaxy takes for granted, but to me was overwhelming. My massive body was wracked with what had to be stress responses, muscles growing tense, those powerful legs ready to spring, foreclaws prepared to grasp and climb to safety. My reactions, his instincts.

Throughout all of this, he was silent. I'd heard from the others of Hork-Bajir hosts being highly emotional. Screaming, crying for loved ones, pleading for freedom in their stilted idiot speech. But not him. He knew I was there. I felt his awareness. But he only watched. It was unsettling.

I tapped into his memories and found that he had gone through much of his life in this silent state. The earliest ones showed his visual feed being considerably blurred as he clutched onto his mother. Naturally. This particular specimen was born albinistic, which affected his eyesight. Something easily corrected, not worth wasting an otherwise healthy host body over. This one just would not be bred to avoid contaminating the gene pool with his defect. Strangely enough, he never seemed concerned with this development. The thoughts of mating with a female were tied to feelings of discomfort.

That in itself was strange. His species was supposed to be unintelligent, barely sentient. Capable of speech, but incapable of comprehending complex concepts. But as I read through him further, there were tendrils of understanding creeping into every memory. He looked at our language and immediately tried to read it, even though he failed. He remembered individual words, conversations vividly. His mother had called him "spirit child" and he understood that it made him special, different. It colored all my interactions with him from that moment.

I tried to speak with him.

<Can you hear me?>

No answer.

<Are you different from other Hork-Bajir?>

He finally answered.

<No different. No different! Please! Let me go!>

It was incredible. He was being insincere. Trying to lie to me! Something his species wasn't supposed to be able to do. I translated the chemicals flooding through his brain, noticing the distinct lack of fear that belied his attempted deception. But the fact that he had tried told me a lot. Everything I did with his body was being watched by an intelligent mind. I was being judged.

It scared me. But at the same time, I was fascinated. I continued to poke and prod, trying to get this fascinating creature to show me more of his intelligence. I tried to speak with him more often. Perhaps even more embarrassing than his escape was this: for a brief time, I attempted to befriend him. I could tell he was more than just a simple host body. I wanted those watching eyes to come out of their hiding and open themselves up to me.

<I know you're intelligent,> I told him often, <You really aren't like the others, are you? You have something they don't. It must be lonely, not having any company that can speak to you as an equal.>

<No different. I want my mother.> he replied, <Miss my mother. Please leave head.>

<Come on. You're lying to me, I know you are. You can stop playing dumb.> I was beginning to get frustrated. <Speak to me. I can understand you. Don't you think you deserve more? They can't give you what I can give you. I can teach you things, you know. I can teach you what those words you see mean. I can teach you how our machines work. With my help, you can be as great as us. I promise.>

<I don't want anything you have, Yeerk.> he said, finally breaking his attempts at the simple Hork-Bajir speech patterns. <If being great like you means we do what you do, I want no part of it. I'll stay your tool. An idiot, just like you think we all are.> His voice was filled with pure disgust. If he'd had control of his body, he'd be spitting at me. <Don't try to talk to me again.>

After that, he stopped responding, going sullenly silent. He seemed upset, defeated, but even behind that smokescreen I could still hear the cogs turning and clicking. He saw the same things I did, heard the same things I heard. He was taking that information and I could feel him stockpiling it. He never kept anything concrete enough for me to read it, but he knew. He remembered.

That should have been my warning sign that he was plotting behind my back. He'd never truly given up. And eventually he'd be the one to outsmart us. A branch of the mighty Yeerk empire, outsmarted by bark-eaters. The moment I'd left his head to feed, his hand bolted out with those arboreal reflexes, snatching a Dracon beam from one of the guards. In the chaos he blasted open as many cages as he could, guiding those trapped inside out. He'd kept all the information I'd left in his head. He'd spent his time memorizing the Pool's layout. Most importantly, the escape routes. He was gone before a Visser could arrive to sort the situation out, taking as many brothers and sisters with him as he could.

Who knows where they are now. This planet is enormous, and its wilds tangled and untamed. The massive trees mean that the Hork-Bajir are in their element, and even our technology only has a small chance of uncovering them in their own habitat. I have no doubt that they will be followed to the ends of the Earth, perhaps recaptured. Perhaps killed. But no matter happens, I will never forget, and never reveal the secret of the Spirit Child, the grey-bladed beast that watched me with those cold, hateful, knowing eyes.