A/N: I've always wondered what ever happened to the voluntary controllers once the war was over. So, this is my response to that! It's a short one-shot about a voluntary controller.

Reviews are always nice, and I hope you enjoy. Please, feel free to leave critical reviews (or nice reviews! anything's good!) about the writing or story. To that, I have tried to imitate KAA's style as much as possible, short sentences, statements, etc.

My name is Malor.

It's not my real name. My real name was Joel. No last name, it only seems to give me more grief. Unlike the Animorphs, I don't have a noble reason for hiding my name. I do it to protect myself from hate.

Why am I hated?

I was a voluntary Controller. And this is my story.

I submitted at very early on in the invasion, about two months in, I was 14 years old, and I decided to become a host to this Yeerk. His name was Nelp-two-four-eight. The Sharing started it all off, I joined, after four meetings I chose to become a 'full member'.

The took me to the Yeerk Pool, I was nervous at first, but I saw the greater community I was joining. Their power. It was far more than I could ever hope to achieve.

Nelp and I, well, at first he fought me back. I was crushed in the corner of my mind. Able only to look out of eyes that were no longer under my own control. But I adapted. In order to stop Nelp's taunts, I helped him. He fitted into my old life almost seamlessly, no one realised anything was different.

Our relationship soon developed, we became partners. And we rose through the Yeerk ranks. I was a trusted Controller. I was not held in the cages down in the Yeerk Pool. I sat in the canteen eating fries while Nelp absorbed the Kandrona rays in the Pool.

This was when I first encountered the Animorphs. I was enjoying myself in the company of other voluntary people. When suddenly a Taxxon exploded beside us, from inside it came the mangled forms of the demorphing 'Andalite bandits'. I had no illusions, I knew I couldn't take them. I ran to the corner of the room, determined not to be one of the first taken down by them.

Common sense, really.

(Coward.) Nelp had said to me.

(As if you'd do anything different, Nelp.)

He laughed, (You're right, human. Survival at any cost.)

We survived, oh yes, we survived.

We were on the verge of becoming a sub-Visser. Being transferred off Earth. Given our own ship to command. We were due to be sent on a mission in some corner of the galaxy. A new species had been discovered, and was gradually being invaded by the Yeerks. They were called Juskans, a pale, purple skinned species, with incredible reaction times. Strong. Healthy. An able biped species. A little soft in the brain, maybe, but able creatures. A fine species to be brought into the Yeerk Empire.

Then the end came.

Oh, there were warnings. The destruction of the Yeerk Pool was a major blow. But the humans with their tactical skill defeated Visser One (admittedly, not a great task).

Once the Animorphs had triumphed over the Yeerk forces, we were rounded up. Like cattle. Nelp was given the opportunity to leave me and be given the morphing power, to take a new form. Away from the parasitic Yeerk that he was.

He took it. And took the form of a Juskan. To escape and become an assassin. I assume that's why he took the form. Always he revelled in the specific, impersonal nature of some violence.

And I was left alone. Weak human. I had no power. I was eighteen. I had no friends. No family. Nelp had seen that I was cut off from all of them. I could have faked the nature of my 'enslavement', but they put me on the list.

Oh yes, that was one aspect the Animorphs left out in their glorious tales. Maybe they didn't know. I couldn't careless. They brought it down upon us. They won their precious war without any thought as to who it would destroy. My life was no longer mine. At least me and Nelp were partners. We worked for the benefit of both of us.

The American government had a list of all voluntary hosts. We were followed, wherever we went, they knew about us.

We were prohibited from living too close to other voluntary hosts. I guess they were afraid that something would happen. We would collaborate. For what end, I had no idea. But their paranoia kept me isolated.

Eventually I found somewhere to live. No one knew me or my history. Several years passed, was I happy? As happy as I could be, I had no rank. No lackeys. No power. I was a shadow of what Nelp and I had become. And yet, I had anonymity. For a time.

How was my position revealed? I don't know. Some drasnik of a cop probably felt it was his duty to tell the local paper! I was compromised. Protesters came to my door. They threw insults. Bricks. Stones. Eggs. Shit.

"Get out of here!"

"Dirty f—ker!"

"You don't deserve to live here, coward!"

And of course: "Traitor!"

The cops, they didn't bother trying to control the permanent mob in front of my house, why should they? I was a traitor. A turncoat. I was trapped for two weeks. Left to ponder my life under a hail of insults. What was left? Nothing! I might as well die. Should I? Should I take my own life? What was left? I was on the brink of becoming a sub-Visser! I had POWER! And now, nothing. Maybe death would be the greater glory. Ha! I could see it now, the people persecuted for their hate. I would be...

Pitied.

No! That wasn't what I wanted. Pity is for lesser creatures. Me! I was above pity. They should fear me!

I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. Death was what they wanted. I was a traitor, after all.

I snuck out of the house one night. The mob of humans was sleeping. They weren't smart enough to keep watch on the back of the house at night. Their stupidity was their weakness.

I took the name Malor, it meant traitor in Jusketh. A suitable tribute, I thought! If was to be the traitor, well, I should embody that. I came first from now on. Number one. Survival at all costs.

I stole. I cheated. I killed.

It was my mission to get off of this rock. And I would achieve it. I was driven by determination.

I found myself on a Skrit Na freighter, taking passage to some different world where my talents could be used. Was I after fame? No. I now craved anonymity. Wealth? Only as a means to power. What sort of power? Enough. Enough to command my own ship.

Yes, that was my ultimate plan. To earn enough to get my own ship. A crew. I would fly across space. Dealing with all races. Even Yeerks. I would be a traitor to all and a traitor to none. With no allegiances, I was free to survive. Survival at all costs.

Unknowingly Nelp had given me what I needed to survive. I could now operate more alien technology, speak snatches of some languages. I could become the ultimate mercenary.

I have a crew of a pilot, a mechanic and grunts, of various species. I suspect at least one of them is under the control of a Yeerk. Do I care? No. Survival is the Yeerk's mission. With no Empire they were free to do what they will, no missions, no orders, nothing.

My full name is now Captain Malor Nelp Derann. I smuggle. Occasionally steal. Sometimes 'honest' work comes my way. Does it matter to me? Honestly, no. Those humans made me what I am. Malor. A traitor. They created this mercenary.

Survival.

At any cost.