Chapter 22: Lir Sey'les

Coruscant

Fortunately, Sey'les and the Rangers were not called into action on the second day of the weekend. She awoke alone in her room Primeday morning at 0600, showered, dried quickly on the Yawoshrogrugh, and headed for the Center for Military Operations to lead Ranger Team 2 in morning training exercises.

The Judicial Arcology had now been renamed the COMPOR Arcology—Commission for the Protection of the Republic, an organisation led by Director Byno Doubton. To Sey'les, it felt obscene.

A massive building that, for centuries, had housed the Federal law enforcement agencies of the Republic and their hospital, was now turned into something else.

As she stared out the Maglev window towards the building, she remembered Clahra's lecture on the Four Pinnacles of human civilisation: a Judiciary and a law enforcement agency, a Senate, a Monarch, and the Media. It was like the humans had destroyed one of the pinnacles and replaced it with COMPOR—whatever the hell that was.

"So Wulf, what do you think about COMPOR?"

Sey'les and Wulf were running alongside Fojo. They decided to take it upon themselves to make sure he put in some effort. Whenever he slowed down to a trot, she ordered him to jog faster. Dub had tried arguing with her that this was a bad way to make someone exercise, but she would not hear it.

Knot was still in the military hospital.

"I dunno," the Ardennian said in a breathy voice. "I guess the name sounds a bit like a computer."

Sey'les shook her head. "That's not what I mean. I—"

"—I think it's very Bothan ma'am," Fojo panted.

"What do you mean?" Sey'les asked in a breathy voice.

"I mean, it's an agency designed to combat Separatist feeds and design—" Fojo gasped for breath and paused for a moment. "Design pictures and posters to combat it."

"I guess I never thought about it that way," Sey'les admitted. "Come on Fojo, let's try to keep up with Oc'nel," she growled.

Without Tarkin, the two Ranger teams sat around without direction. Seegers and Sey'les had a discussion after forty minutes, called the training centre, and decided to take both of their teams out for a target practice session after lunch.

At 0936, Ro'val called Sey'les.

"Ma'am, I am at work right now and a little busy," she said, ducking out into the hall.

The old white-coat uniformed Bothan glared at her from the datapad screen. "I have booked you in for an appointment Captain."

"You can't do that," Sey'les growled cautiously, sitting down in the hallway. "It's up to me to schedule them. This is insane and highly unprofessional!"

"As I said before, 'insane' is not a word in my vocabulary," Ro'val said sternly. "Captain, there is… there is a… Mesha mu korn agkalaga."

Sey'les growled back curiously, in Bothese, "Zųsk ąghkąlągha?" What kind of situation?

"Get over here and take Ensign Oc'nel with you!" Ro'val yelled and hung up.

"Let me get this straight," Oc'nel huffed. "You are taking me with you to your impromptu psychiatry appointment?"

Sey'les sighed. This is really crazy.

The two Bothans sat on the Maglev. Oc'nel had protested, insisting that he, instead, should fly her to the COMPOR hospital. Sey'les had argued that it was just one stop away.

"Ma'am, with all due respect, if this really is the case, you need a psychiatrist," he said without a hint of irony.

"There is some stuff that is need to know," Sey'les snarled, "which I can't tell you."

The two Bothans stopped their loud argument once they realised six teenagers, wearing military-style grey uniforms, were standing by their row. The kids glared down at the Bothans menacingly. They were all different flavours of human, and Sey'les could see the hatred in their eyes.

"Do you kids have a problem?" Sey'les growled angrily. Who the kriff are these humans?

"You Bothans," a ruddy-faced, red haired, human girl sneered. "You Bothans better keep those Naval Uniforms on, or else."

"Who the kriff are you kids?!" Oc'nel snarled, standing up to face the teens. At 1.7 meters, he was shorter than all but two of the human children.

"We are the SA," a dark-skinned, black-haired, human male said, folding his arms looking down on the Bothan.

"The Sub-Adult Group!" a blonde-haired human male yelled proudly with an eccentric salute, pointing his hand straight ahead.

Oc'nel and Sey'les both started laughing hysterically.

"The Sub-Adult group!" Sey'les gasped between laughs, slapping her knees with her furry hands.

"That name!" Oc'nel laughed, gasping for breath. "You kids, really… hahaha! SUB-ADULT!" The Bothans could not stop laughing.

The kids moved in on the Naval officers menacingly, one pulling out a club from his backback.

Sey'les stood up with a snarl, pulling out her canister of pepper spray.

Oc'nel backed up towards the window.

"Is there a problem here?" an adult human female in a Naval uniform asked the kids sternly.

"N—no ma'am!" the kids stammered. The one with a club slipped it back into his backpack.

"Good, leave them alone," she said sternly.

"Thank you, Admiral," Oc'nel stammered upon seeing their saviour's rank.

"Thank you, ma'am," Sey'les said, putting her pepper spray back in her bag.

"No problem, Ensign, Captain," she said regarding the two Bothans. "It really is not smart to laugh at people who outnumber you, even if they are kids."

"Who the hell are those kids?!" Sey'les asked. "Ma'am," she added.

"It's been like this at the COMPOR Arcology since it became the COMPOR," the Admiral sighed. "Director Byno Doubton dressed a group of human kids, mostly the spoiled rotten children of politicians and officials, in fake military uniforms. They call themselves the 'Sub-Adult group.' Most of them seem to be complete assholes. I am going to lodge a formal complaint. You are the second group of alien officers I have seen them harass and the group itself just formed on Benduday."

"Wow, three days old and the group is already out making asses of themselves," Oc'nel said, shaking his head.

Great. They've replaced the Judicial Arcology with this kriffing nonsense, Sey'les sighed to herself.

"Uh, good morning ma'am," Oc'nel said as he regarded the neurotic Bothan psychiatrist.

"Good morning Ensign, good morning Captain. Please, take a seat," Ro'val said warmly.

Sey'les's fur swirled nervously. She did not know whether the topic of conversation would somehow go to the issues she's been having.

"We have reason to believe that the Republic has succumbed to false intelligence—false intelligence created by your commander, Wilhuff Tarkin. The Republic is—"

"Ma'am, who are you?" Oc'nel growled cautiously. "If you guys are committing treason," he glared at Sey'les, "I want no part in it and will report it—"

"—Ensign Oc'nel," Ro'val snarled, "we are not committing treason, and who I am is of no concern."

Sey'les winced as Ro'val glared at her.

"I don't care whether you think your own actions are treasonous ma'am," Oc'nel growled. "I don't want any part in secret Bothan bullshtak. You Bothawui and Kothlis Bothans may do this nonsense, but I refuse to participate. I am—"

"—you are dismissed Ensign," Ro'val snarled.

"Thank you, ma'am," Oc'nel said sarcastically, lazily snapped to attention, and slammed the door on his way out.

Sey'les was amazed. Never had it occurred to her to just simply not put up with Ro'val's nonsense. She smirked thinking how she was going to step out and brush the old Bothan off.

"Sey'les, where is Tarkin?" Ro'val asked, cutting straight to the point.

"Ma'am, you know where Tarkin is," Sey'les growled sternly. "We are in the COMPOR hospital, aren't we?"

Ro'val blinked at her. "Sey'les, I take it then, that you don't know where he is," she sighed. "Tarkin must be… dealt with while he is in a vulnerable position."

"Yep, this is treason," Sey'les growled impatiently. She stood up and approached the door. "I'm out Ro'val. You can kill Tarkin if you want. He is an asshole and said he wants to 'obliterate' Bothans, but I am not taking part in it at all. I don't want to know."

"Even knowing and not reporting is treason, Captain," Ro'val said challengingly.

"Yeah, well, I've committed treason before. I've never participated in fragging my commanding officer. I am back in with the Wookiees. I am out with the Bothans. Done with this nonsense. Kill Tarkin, you have my blessing. I am not participating in it in any way though," Sey'les growled and flashed a toothy feral grin challenging Ro'val's dominance.

Ro'val stared at her, snout agape.

Didn't think so, Sey'les thought. She stood up and walked out the door.

"THERE IS NO 'IN' WITH THE WOOKIEES! YOU THINK JUST BECAUSE YOU KRIFF WOOKIEES YOU ARE IN WITH THEM?" Ro'val screamed hysterically, yelping like a jackal.

"I'll see you next week for my regular appointment then, ma'am," Sey'les said, peering back into the office with a grin. She walked down the hallway towards the COMPOR plaza.

Ro'val continued ranting and raving, yelping as Sey'les walked further down the hallway. "THEY HAVE NO ACCESS ANYMORE! YARUA IS OUT! WOOKIEES ARE OUT! KASHYYYK IS DOOMED! THEY WILL BE LUCKY IF THEY AREN'T BOMBED INTO OBLIVION BY THE REPUBLIC AND SEPARATISTS ALIKE! YOU ARE SCREWING LOSERS! THE WOOKIEES ARE DEAD! DOOMED!"

Sey'les chuckled under her breath as the screams became more distant. Several other psychologists and psychiatrists opened their office doors, looking down the hallway curiously.

She could not stop laughing. Psychiatry definitely is a necessary practice. Kriff, Ro'val needs a psychiatrist more than anyone. Ro'val had screamed confidential information about Sey'les and her history into the hallway and Sey'les did not even care. Ro'val's proved everything Sey'les thought about her to be true. Damn I am so glad to be away from Bothan Space! A Spynet Director posing as a psychiatrist. Sheesh.

She stepped outside, putting on her patrol cap. Oc'nel saluted her with a grin and she saluted back.

"I heard some of that. Ma'am, you really got her pissed," Oc'nel said with a feral vicarious smile.

"I need a different psychiatrist," Sey'les sighed, shaking her head.

"Damn you do. Ma'am, that Ro'val is—"

"—An evil, abusive, manipulative bitch," Sey'les interjected. "You're telling me."

"The Lurmen come in two batches then!" Dub exclaimed. The Clones, Wulf, Fojo, and Ranger Team 1 were all on one table, flipping through datapads.

"Bring me up to speed," Sey'les said as she and Oc'nel entered the room.

"The Lurmen you arrested Oc'nel are not the same as the Lurmen who ambushed us in the Underworld," Seegers said. "The Lurmen in the Underworld had slave bombs still active," he added darkly.

"Slave bombs?!" Sey'les gasped as she sat down, grabbing Dub's datapad.

Oc'nel scowled.

"The Lurmen you arrested were freed. They had traces of explosives in them which had been long deactivated. The tracking beacons still could work, theoretically, according to the Corps of Engineers technicians," Seegers added matter of factly. It was as if he were talking about battle droids as opposed to a group of sentients. "These ones who ambushed us, well, they are still slaves."

"So, they are being forced to attack?" Grath asked.

"Yeah, it would seem so, and they are not part of the Lurmen population of Coruscant," Seegers answered.

On the datapad screen, Sey'les could see gruesome images of Lurmen dissected in the morgue. Bomb fragments and tracking devices had been extracted from their innards. She could not help but feel pity for them. As someone who had volunteered to have a martial career, she could not help but wonder who would force an army of slaves to fight. What type of monster?

"Hey Captain, Captain!" Dub said waving his hand in front of her snout.

"Captain Sey'les!" Tarkin yelled. "Are you with us? Have you put on another dunce hat?"

"Sorry sir, yes I am with you." Sey'les's fur swirled with embarrassment. "How are you feeling Governor?"

"Much better, thank you," Tarkin said, walking in front of the rear viewscreen.

Suddenly, four new Clones entered the room. All of them had hulking muscles and looked far grimmer than any Clones Sey'les had seen.

"Lieutenant Dub? Corporal Dubs? Trooper Grath?"

"Yes Governor?"

"You, along with Sergeant Knot, are being transferred to the Coruscant Guard, pack your things."

Almost everyone in the room gasped in shock. Fojo dropped his datapad with a clatter. Wulf folded all four of his arms and wore a look of anger.

"What?!" Sey'les gasped. "Sir, it took me weeks to bring them up to speed!"

"Sir, I don't understand," Dub stammered. "Are you displeased with us?"

"Yes," Tarkin said simply. "Lieutenant Dub, I do not trust you or your men to have my back at all. You are frankly, incompetent. I can handle Sey'les's stupidity, but incompetence is—I do not trust you to have my back, Dub," Tarkin said coldly. "I cannot trust a man who stands on a hill getting shot at when there is cover in every direction. I cannot trust men who, when tasked with guarding our flank, instead yell and charge into combat without being ordered to."

"Very well Governor," Dub said sadly.
Grath, Dub, and Dubs walked to the armoury and silently gathered their belongings.

"Sir, I can train them and—"

"—Sey'les, enough. You have new Clones. These models are ARC Troopers. Someone just transferred them to me," Tarkin said, gesturing to the four identical humans. All of them looked serioius. Two of them had red facial tattoos, one had shaven symbols into his hair, and the final had shaved his head bald.

"Now, I will be in my office. You can all take the day off early. I daresay, you'll need it for introductions," Tarkin said.

"Thank you, Governor," Oc'nel said with a sad smile after Sey'les said nothing.

"I am Lieutenant CT-0099, you can call me Buzz ma'am," the bald Clone said.

"Buzz?" Sey'les asked and started looking up at the ceiling in thought.

Wulf put his hand up to his chin, pondering the name.

Buzz started stammering "What is going on? What are—"

"—No, I think I'll call you Fuzz," Sey'les said with a feral grin.

"No ma'am, you will call me Buzz," Buzz said defiantly. He approached Sey'les and Wulf, folding his arms as he stared down at them. "That is not how this is gonna work."

Sey'les gulped nervously. "Insubordination! That is—"

"—No ma'am, this is not insubordination," Buzz said sternly. "Insubordination is failure to obey the lawful orders of my superior, which is you ma'am. Ordering me to change my name to something humiliating is not a lawful order. The rest of my men, your men, you will also call by their proper names."

Oc'nel and Fojo started struggling not to laugh.

Sey'les's fur swirled nervously. Kriff. She had never had a subordinate under her command who refused to put up with her whims. The Bothan was not sure how to handle it. Then, she remembered how she and Oc'nel had stood up to Ro'val earlier. I don't want to be Ro'val. I can handle this.

"Fine, you get to be Buzz," she growled cautiously.

"I don't just get to be Buzz, I am Buzz," he said.

"You are Buzz," Sey'les sighed. "Okay who are the rest of you? If one of your names is Wolf, or a variant of Wolf, we will have a problem because Lieutenant Wulf here well—"

"—no ma'am, none of us are named Wulf. This is Sergeant CT-0754, Dawn," Buzz said, pointing to the Clone with a red tattoo under his eye. "This is Sergeant CT-1854, Scorch," he said, pointing to the Clone with a red tattoo covering the whole right side of his face, "and this is CT-1879, Isaac," he said, pointing to the final Clone who had letters shaven into his hair.