o.o.o.o.o
Kelia Los'ean
RSD Kestrel, Hyperspace
Kelia awoke screaming to a sore throat and the on-duty door guard kneeling next to her with an aid kit out.
Her sheets had been torn up in her sleep, her fur was flat against her skin, and in her half-terrified state she smelled that her armpits stank of sweat from night terrors.
Were she more cognizant, she would have realized what a mess she was.
The Clone, Vex, looked at the Bothan he watched her cough and sit up.
"Trooper… Vex?" She coughed, rubbing her throat.
"Captain! I came in when I heard screaming, are you alright?" He questioned as he backed away.
Kelia blinked tiredly, slowly regulating her breathing. "I'm… Just… Get me a cold glass of water…" The Bothan croaked hoarsely.
The Clone nodded and strode off as Kelia laid back, sitting on her bed while feeling the dryness in her mouth set in.
She couldn't remember exactly what she'd dreamt about, but this was the first night terror she'd had in a while.
No doubt linked to her self-guilt about the convoy or something.
Vex returned from the refresher with the water and handed it to Kelia, who took the glass and slowly began to drink it.
As she did, she felt some of the coarseness in her throat fade. "Are the civilians alright…?" She asked, still trying to get her bearings.
Vex nodded. "Yes sir. All thirty thousand are aboard, not comfortable, but alive." He informed her.
She nodded back, grateful that her nightmare of being responsible for the deaths of thousands had been thankfully false. "Thank you Vex, return to your station. I'll be fine for now." Kelia uttered softly as her fur slowly fanned away from her body and returned to its resting state.
Vex stood there for a few moments, as if skeptical, before he nodded and walked out of the room, allowing Kelia the privacy she needed to get out of bed and head into the refresher.
A quick run through the sonic cleaned off most of the tang of sweat and the fearful musk. Stars knew with thirty-thousand other Bothans aboard that she needed to be as presentable as possible.
The rest was handled with a fresh uniform and clean underwear, plus some minor adjustments to her whiskers and mane.
She wasn't a male, so she didn't feel the need to spend an hour preening. Which honestly immensely cut down the amount of time required for grooming.
Idly, twirled a finger through her dark blond mane hair, which was starting to get longer.
She honestly preferred it long, she felt it looked better like that.
Shaking her head as she placed her cap atop it, Kelia made a few final adjustments to her clothing and then strode out of her quarters.
"Doing better, sir?" Vex asked curiously as the door slid shut behind Kelia from his position at the door.
His voice wasn't judgmental, but there was a hint of wariness behind it that stung all the same.
"Yeah, a bit." She replied, wondering if her men saw her as unstable now.
He nodded at her. "Do you need an escort, sir?"
She shook her head slightly. "Nah, go get some rest when your shift is done." Kelia ordered, patting the man on the shoulder. "I'll call up another unit. Planning on going to check on the refugees anyways."
"Understood sir." Vex acknowledged before returning back to his duty stance as Kelia turned and strode off, making her way to a nearby turbolift.
She had an inspection to run, regardless of the fatigue lingering in her body.
o.o.o.o.o
CT-32/3333 'Vex'
RSD Kestrel, Hyperspace
Vex waited patiently for Kelia to vanish into the turbolift before pulling a datapad off of his belt, setting the cameras watching this section of the hall to loop on him checking it after making sure nobody was scheduled to come by for the next five to ten minutes.
Cautiously, he pulled up a feed from Kelia's quarters after holstering his DC-15 Carbine and pulled up a biomonitor feed, also part of the monitoring gear built into the walls of the Captain's quarters.
As it came on, Vex frowned behind his visor as he watched her kick and scream in an incoherent mess of Bothese, Mando'a, and Basic during brief but intense bursts of REM sleep, though he noticed several fits of night terrors during the NREM periods. As the Clone watched her toss and turn while she suffered through a nightmare, his interest was piqued when he heard her mutter 'Erz kor dol' during one of her whimpering periods that interceded the fits of screaming.
I am sorry.
Hardly proper Bothese, that much he knew, but then again one could hardly be expected to say 'Tona zhiza do mo korn dol' coherently in their sleep.
Grammatical critique aside, this was more interesting to him given this was the only time since their voyage had begun that she'd suffered from nightmares.
["Hrrm... Does she blame herself for the convoy losses?"] Vex muttered in Bothese as stared at his datapad.
While he was interested, it wasn't his job to do psychological analysis, nor was he qualified.
So, Vex set recording mode on and began to file his recommendation. ["This is Lieutenant Novisk Sov'fal, I am recommending, following observations of VIP designated 'Ha Wui', that Psychological Evaluation Operative Maxeena Ny'lya be deployed to RSD Kestrel under the guise of a therapist once entering Republic service, psychological profiles of both Bothans of interest already onboard are attached to this message."] He uttered in perfect Bothese before shutting off the recording.
Holstering his datapad after setting the cameras to unloop, he drew his DC-15 and returned to his normal guard stance just as a pair of Clone crewmen rounded a nearby corner.
As they approached, chattering idly about their interactions with a couple of Bothan females, Sov'fal frowned behind his helmet's faceplate.
The Clones on this ship were individualizing far faster than SpyNet's best estimates anticipated, indicating that his original assessment that they were only deterred by standing practice, contrary to the assurances he and the other infiltrators had been given by Ko Sai and Nala Se, had been correct.
He honestly hated having a degree in sentientology sometimes.
Still, it also made him wonder what else his superiors had gotten wrong about the Clones in general.
o.o.o.o.o
Zenir Le'tah
RSD Kestrel, Hyperspace
Zenir sighed as she stood in the chow line for Republic military rations.
She'd entered the mess hall only to find it crowded with Bothan civilians and Clones, all either waiting in line or actively eating.
The civvies were rubbernecking at the Troopers like nothing she had ever seen. Worse, many of the Clones who weren't standing watch were starting to do the same to them.
Thankfully, most of the Clones seemed familiar with what a Bothan was at least.
Given the vessel's Captain was one, even if they were a kriffing Aean of all things, she would have been surprised if they weren't.
The line moved up, putting Zenir in position to recieve food.
As she held her tray up, a cook droid slopped onto it a few helpings of what appeared to be food intended for Clone consumption.
High calorie, mixed meat and vegetarian. It provided an excellent nutritional balance for most humanoids even if it was meant for someone with a higher metabolism than the norm.
It was also utterly unappealing to even look at; a mix of noodles, cooked blobs that vaguely resembled meat, and synthetic vegetables.
Her snout scrunched up she stared at her tray for a few moments, before she finally accepted her fate and walked over to a table where Strask Rel'lya and five other Marshals were eating.
Lieutenant Strask Rey'lya frowned as he watched her sit down and then leaned in. Le'tah glared at him in response. "Zo ravo woks pa Rel?" ["What do you want Rel?"] She asked warily in Bothese, not growling, but close. ["You wanted me, or well us I should say, to meet you here specifically."]
Sergeant Besk Kol'tiv looked down at Lance Corporal Irys Vel'kre, who shrugged her red and black furred shoulders at the other Bothan, both being equally clueless about Rel'lya's request.
Rel'lya crossed his arms and lowered his voice a bit. ["It's simple, we're on a foreign vessel commanded by an Aean. There are thus thirty-thousand helpless civilians and only twenty of us Marshals against… At least a few thousand well-armed Clones."] He uttered flatly.
Corporal Relir Dza'lab almost slammed her silver furred head into the table. ["With all due respect… Sir… We're not going to be leveraged for anything…"] She growled as she pulled her head back up, Le'tah silently agreeing with her.
Rel'lya's mindset ranged from idiotic to conspiratorially idiotic and he steadfastly refused to believe anything to the contrary.
There was a reason he never made the grade for SpyNet selection. Which he would never shut up about whenever the subject was broached.
Corporal Burukt Uv'trek glanced sideways at Relir while scratching the back of his neck. ["I'd have to agree with Relir, sir. It's kind of a dumb thing to think about."]
Strask huffed softly. ["Really? Thirty thousand Bothans is hardly an opportunity anyone would pass up! So what's stopping them?"] He growled at Dza'lab, his fur flaring to express his aggravation.
Relir snarled softly. ["The fact that public opinion will shift to the CIS? Sir."] She added at the end.
If it weren't for the difference in rank, or the fact that the others would be obligated to arrest her for assault, Zenir knew she would've decked him by now.
Rel'lya's eyes narrowed angrily. ["When was the last time that stopped humans from performing atrocious acts? Those Aeans are no different either!"]
Zenir finally had enough. ["Strask! Lock it down! If you think the Republic is going to just shut their kriffing brains off and take us hostage for no reason, how about you explain as much to them yourself!"] She snarled loudly as her own fur bristled in anger.
The Alya's gaze shifted over to Le'tah, who glared back at him.
["Maybe I will..."] He growled.
Sergeant Itask Bre'val, meanwhile, realized something about their situation even as his superiors snarled and snapped at eachother, completely oblivious to their surroundings.
Ashen-grey fur fell flat as his observations confirmed that their now rather loud conversation was being observed by the Clones and the Bothan civilians.
Most of the latter looked suspiciously or angrily at the Marshals, clearly either upset by the disruption or aggravated by the stupidity of the Marshals.
A few families shied their children away, clearly upset by the obscene language being used in their presence.
For their part, the Clones thankfully seemed oblivious outside of being disrupted by the noise, most continuing to chat about various things as they ate.
Some of them, however, had taken an interest in the yipping and growling Bothans wearing paramilitary uniforms and law enforcement badges.
Zenir noticed her fellow Marshal's distress and looked around as well, coming to the same conclusion before turning to Rel'lya and Dza'trek. ["Lock it up you two. In case you've forgotten, we're not the only beings here who understand Bothese!"] She hissed.
The rest of the Marshals also began looking around, which now caught the attention of the Clones.
"Is everything alright over there?" A helmetless Clone with maroon striping on his armor asked as he looked up from a table inspection.
Kriff, an officer.
Another Clone voice spoke up. "I dunno Captain. Sounds like things got pretty heated." One of the unarmored flight crew techs interjected.
Oh shtak.
A Clone Captain noticing this was bad, very bad.
"Yes, yes." Irys uttered somewhat nervously in basic, speaking for the rest of the group. "We're all fine here… Just a disagreement on our chain of command." She lied, her fur swirling nervously in a manner any Bothan would be able to decode with ease.
The Clone narrowed his eyes but said nothing, simply turning and walking off.
["Oh kriff… I think I've just blown it…"] Vel'kre muttered as her body sagged a bit in dismay.
Kol'tiv gently patted her on the back. ["We'll be fine. What's he gonna do? Tell the ship's Captain? We'll be fine."]
o.o.o.o.o
Kelia Los'ean
RSD Kestrel, Hyperspace
"You think the Marshals are doing what Captain Flare?" Kelia asked incredulously after being pulled aside after she had aided a hapless Bothan female and her Pantoran and Zabrak significant others, the three of whom had been asking where refresher facilities were.
Kelia suspected they just wanted a discreet place to kriff, but directed them in the direction anyways.
"I believe that the Marshals might be planning to take hostile action against the crew." Flare repeated.
Kelia pinched the bridge of her snout. "Kriffing wonderful, my anxiety's already tripping every alarm in my head and then this happens… Just keep an eye on them. If they're sane, they won't try anything."
The Captain's head tilted slightly and he frowned. "Shouldn't we detain them as possible threats to the ship? Sir?"
Kelia shook her head. "We don't have any proof of them planning anything. So, no." She said plainly and clearly. "Just watch them and if they act like idiots and attack the crew detain them for assaulting Republic personnel, shoot them if they don't give you a choice. But only if they do that."
She wasn't dumb. And knowing the Marshals, the odds of a stupid holodrama moment where someone within earshot heard the wrong thing before then setting off an idiotic chain of events, was too high for her liking.
Not to mention the reputation some units of the Marshalcy had for being full of arrogant shtakheads who did obscenely stupid things for no discernable reason regardless.
"Understood sir. We'll leave 'em be." Flare acknowledged somewhat begrudgingly before giving Kelia a salute, only walking off after she returned it.
She sighed and rubbed her snout. Kelia knew the Clones generally prioritized following protocol, and that proper military procedure would involve detaining a possible threat to the ship.
Still, she didn't want to just shove her foot up her own shebs like an even bigger idiot. "Right, gotta figure shtak out… Might have to talk to them myself if they prove uncooperative…"
Shaking the cobwebs away, Kelia entered the main corridor where her escorts were waiting, before proceeding to continue her inspection.
So far nobody had really complained. Being shunted into sleeping bags in hallway on a Venator was better than being left on a drifting freighter. Though even Kelia couldn't deny that thirty thousand Bothans packed into tight corridors created an unignorably musky odor.
She envied her men who wore helmets around the ship. They didn't have to smell so many competing scents.
Well, not to the same extent at least.
Stopping at an intersection to allow a group of children to run by, Kelia smiled warmly as they stopped and stared in awe at her uniform and the pair of armed Clones accompanying her.
"Mapask…" ["Rogue…"] One of them whispered softly as Kelia gave them a smirk and moved on, the two escort troopers following in her wake.
To them she seemed larger than life, a Bothan in a Republic Navy uniform escorted by Clone Troopers. Hell, a couple weeks ago and she'd have acted similarly starry-eyed.
It struck her then that she was important now, well she was important to her Clan already, but now she was important on a much different scale.
Kriff, it hadn't been that long and she'd already been forced into the mould of someone acting perpetually serious.
Some part of her yearned for those simpler days, where she could geek out over some warship and not feel like she was making an immense fool of herself in a professional setting.
Those days were gone, and admittedly she hadn't had the opportunity to do that since she'd graduated.
Kelia shook her head as she headed towards the mess hall. She had a job to do, and it involved kriffing Marshals of all beings.
Maybe talking to them would accomplish something? Hopefully this group wasn't too stupid to not see reason.
Hopefully…
o.o.o.o.o
Zenir Le'tah
RSD Kestrel, Hyperspace
["Alright, so, how about… Instead of just… Screaming at eachother like a bunch of Council politicos, we just keep an eye on the situation and then just call for aid if the Republic does anything funny? Okay?"] Zenir said, trying to keep as calm as she could. ["Can we all agree with that?"] She uttered testily, using a tone she normally reserved for her younger siblings in the process.
["I swear, this is why they sent us out to Denon. Because we're all a bunch of kriffing idiots who're too busy looking for absurd plots that don't exist or being lazy morons!"] Relir added heatedly.
The other marshals begrudgingly agreed, even postings on asteroids like Void Station, Tawa, or Thellus were more glamorous than this.
She could have been promoted by now, with all the benefits that came with having a higher station, if she didn't have some of these morons trying to scramble all over her for their own benefit.
"Attention on deck!" A Clone Trooper called out as the Republic personnel snapped to attention.
The marshals immediately snapped to as well, instincts drummed in during training taking over.
"Carry on." A female voice with the distinct and blunt intonations of a Krantian accent called out. The civilians murmuring amongst themselves in surprise now.
The Marshals sat down and turned their heads to see a relatively tall Bothan female with blond fur and a mane of a slightly darker shade entering the room with a pair of troopers escorting her, her well-built form giving away her clan origins instantly before Zenir even had a chance to test for her scent.
The rest was given away by her Republic Naval uniform, which bore a Captain's rank plaque on her sizable chest.
Zenir felt a slight twinge of annoyance. Then again, if she had wanted tits like those of an Askar prostitute she would have just gotten implants.
Still, it annoyed her that this Aean didn't even have to try to get other's attention on them. Just walking into the room drew all eyes to her.
The Aean Bothan walked over and inspected the Marshals. ["So, what exactly is going on here?"] She asked in Bothese.
The eight marshals looked amongst themselves, but said nothing, though Zenir spotted Rel'lya glowering a bit at the Republic officer.
["Anyone willing to field an answer?"] She inquired again as she stepped up to them.
Zenir noticed that the Aean Bothan was mildly stressed based on the subtle shifts in her fur beyond the already suspicious swirling. Though for what reason the Marshal could not comprehend.
It was still a bit more obvious that the Marshals were nervous though, as the very visible swirling of their fur attested to.
Wonderful, first experience with the Republic Navy and they had already torpedoed the Marshalcy's reputation…
She was going to have a hell of a time explaining this to Major Sav'ija when they got back to their post on Sennat.
Finally, Uv'trek spoke, the male sheepishly looking down like a chastised pup. ["One of our Lieutenants believes that you're willing to take us all hostage."]
Zenir watched the Aean openly roll her eyes at what she could only assume was the sheer stupidity of the statement before looking over at Rel'lya.
Rel'lya seemed like he was resisting the urge to begin snarling at her, which Zenir wasn't surprised by given his disposition. ["And you? Clearly you seem to have a problem with me in particular."]
His fur bristling angrily, Rel'lya almost spat in the Captain's direction as he spoke. ["I have nothing to say to you."] He growled before getting up and walking off, almost shoving an Alya smelling female in a Republic rear-line uniform out of his way as she entered the room.
Several Clones glared at him as they noticed the commotion.
The startled Alya blinked dumbly in surprise at her clanmate before sliding up next to the ship's Captain, clearly an aide of some kind.
Turning back to the Aean with her fur flat, Zenir quickly apologized. "Tona zhiza do mo korn dol." ["I am deeply sorry."] The marshal uttered quickly as she bowed her head. ["I must sincerely apologize for Lieutenant Rel'lya's behavior."]
She hated having to kowtow to an Aean of all Bothans, but that idiot Rel'lya had forced her hand in this manner.
The Aean female growled softly and nodded in acceptance before turning back to the others. ["Well, the rest of you, just make yourselves as comfortable as you can. We'll be arriving in the Dressel system in a few days, at which point we'll likely be transferring you and the civilians to another vessel at Thellus or Tawa."] She informed them. ["Anyways, if you have or need anything. Just have a trooper try to contact me."]
With that, she turned and walked away with her aide, leaving the Marshals dumbfounded.
Kol'tiv looked at the others ["Aren't Aeans supposed to be a bit... Less polite than that?"] He asked the others, bewildered.
Zenir frowned and nodded in agreement; she had admittedly never met an Aean before now, so all she had was their reputation to go by.
As the others mulled this new information, Vel'kre sighed as she leaned forwards and allowed her fur to settle. ["I'm done eating… Wanna go take a nap or something…"]
["We're technically on duty…"] Dza'trek noted dryly.
Irys raised an eyebrow as she leaned over the table. ["Don't care… Not much point anymore."]
Kol'tiv and Uv'trek exchanged a glance as Vel'kre began to nod off to sleep.
Uv'trek looked over at Le'tah. ["So uh… You wanna wake her up and tell her that we need to vacate this table pretty soon?"] He conceded after another look at the now sleeping Vel'kre, who was murmuring softly as a group of now somewhat amused looking civilians and Clones passed by.
Zenir sighed in exasperation.
Some part of her would rather be held at blasterpoint by the Seps than deal with this nonsense.
o.o.o.o.o
TZ-23
CSS Underwritten Investment, Daalang System
TZ-23's metal feet clanked across the deck plating of the Providence-class Destroyer's bridge as it marched up to a B1 manning a comms console. "Report." The two-tone blue painted droid, with distinct white CIS triangle marks on either side of its head and emblazoned on its chest, intoned harshly.
"Sir." The pilot droid reported in the tinny cadence that had become standard for most B1s made at the CIS's main droid plants. "It appears that our taskforce in the Shador System has been destroyed. By a single fighter squadron too."
Other, newer and younger, tactical droids would have dismissed the claim as impossible, illogical.
As would many organic officers, now that TZ-23 thought about it.
But TZ-23 had been one of the first CDE-T units to roll off the line, specifically having been purchased by the wealthy and powerful House Naliju of Serenno as a military advisor and had not once received a memory wipe.
Thus, with the breadth of experience TZ-23 had under his metaphorical belt, the machine was given pause to consider if it was possible for a single fighter to destroy an entire taskforce.
"Captain Tone's arrogance was his downfall." TZ-23 concluded with a dismissive shake of his head after a few seconds of processing.
Its tactical analysis software had determined that the Republic... 'Squadron'... Had likely struck while the taskforce was docked. A few torpedoes had blown up the fuel tanks on the station they were ported at, the chain reaction spreading to the platform's munitions storage and reactors before continuing from there.
Thus destroying Turr Tone's ships with one fell swoop.
A very plausible outcome.
One corroborated by the data from the Extellius, which had fled the system with its Captain aboard along with the four surviving Lupus-class ships from the U-412's pack.
Typical Neimoidian cowardice at its finest.
"What are our orders sir?" The pilot droid inquired.
"Remain vigilant for further Republic offensives." TZ-23 instructed whilst folding his arms behind his back, emerald optics glimmering in the green light issued from the bridge control consoles. "With the Shador taskforce all but wiped out, our base at Daalang is now in a far more precarious position. Therefore, we shall follow our current orders from General Tann to maintain our fleet's position until we receive more pressing orders."
"Roger roger." The B1 muttered as TZ-23 strode away from the comms station, processing possible Republic tactical options now that Shador was clear.
The likelihood of attack from that vector had increased nearly forty percent, only the threat of being caught off-guard by a CIS pincer attack prevented the estimate from being higher.
Still, TZ-23 had served as the aide de camp to Count-Admiral Rhwystr Naliju of Serenno. From whom he had observed that odds often didn't matter if the proper actions were taken to counteract them, or were even offset through seeming chance.
It was a conundrum for a machine based around pure logic, and much to TZ-23's irritation he found his ability to fully comprehend why this was to be quite…
Limited.
The droid looked down slightly as he went through yet another cycle.
TZ-23 had been devoting an increasing amount of processing power on the question as time went on, something that he should have viewed as concerning, but for some reason did not.
A most intriguing development.
"Sir! We have an incoming transmission from the Naliju Gale!" A B1 reported from a nearby comms console.
New orders then, from Admiral Naliju's Grandson no less.
Who just so happened to be one of the few beings in the region with the authority to override General Tann's standing orders.
Even more intriguing.
"Open comms." TZ-23 ordered as he sat down in the command chair. "Let us see what Commodore Naliju is requesting of us."
o.o.o.o.o
Kelia Los'ean
RSD Kestrel, Hyperspace
Kelia sighed as she sat down in the officer's lounge sometime later, a glass of Candorian Ale sitting next to her. "Alright, we should be at the Bresnia system in an hour, followed by Dressel in another half hour. After which we'll move to Bothawui, and then down to Manda. Hopefully I can try to talk to someone in the meantime…"
She pursed her lips and her fur rippled nervously. Talking had never been her strongest suit… Or well, negotiation hadn't.
If there was one thing Kelia truly detested about herself, is that she was often indecisive when it came to asserting her opinion on matters. When faced with those who had stronger forces of will, she folded faster than a battle droid without a control computer signal.
A dozen or two Clones also cohabitated the bar, mostly naval officers, squadron leaders, and armor platoon commanders, though a few infantry and artillery officers were also present. With many of the pilots and walker officers glaring at eachother whenever they thought she wasn't looking.
Desperately she hoped they were not paying attention to her, the last thing she needed was to feel like she wasn't an authority worth respecting.
Not that some of them already didn't see her like that. She knew Flare was borderline and the 608th's feelings on her were already mixed.
Amid her musings, Jural sat down across from her. "Captain?"
Kelia looked up to see her aide after snapping out of her thoughts. "Oh, Lieutenant."
"Something the matter?" Dan'lya asked as she picked up her drink.
Kelia thought for a moment and then shrugged. "Just the usual. Stressed out, anxious… And kinda guilty over losing two pilots."
Jural nodded softly. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I didn't break anymore datapads…"
"Did you spill caf again?" Kelia asked as she took a sip of her ale.
"No… Not the caf…" Dan'lya muttered as she sheepishly slunk her head in. "I did accidentally spill my food all over Major Tecs at lunch though." She admitted.
Several Clones began guffawing, having been listening in to the conversation.
A sharp glare from Tecs quickly silenced them.
Dan'lya gave the Clone Major an apologetic look before turning back to Kelia, who was snickering slightly as well.
Her cream-colored fur swimming warmly at seeing Kelia more upbeat, Dan'lya gave her superior a smile.
Kelia smiled back as she tapped the underside of her snout. "Say, Dan'lya?"
Her ears perked up. "Yeah?"
There was a momentary pause as Kelia stopped to consider phrasing before she spoke. "How have you been adjusting to warship duty?"
"Perfectly fine. You?"
She shrugged at Jural. "Same, more or less." Kelia replied.
Kelia watched her aide pause and study her for a few moments. "Permission to speak candidly?" Jural asked.
"Granted."
"With all due respect ma'am, you're lying through your teeth. Your schedule is entirely nonexistent. You seem to go to sleep and wake up whenever, and half the time you seem like you're trying to avoid flimsiwork by going to places like the hangar just to see what's going on." Dan'lya observed, a nervous ripple passing through her fur.
Kelia opened her mouth, and then promtly closed it. Jural had a point.
"Kriff. You're right. Start working on a schedule for me… Okay?" She said, closing her eyes and letting out a deep breath.
The other Bothan nodded. "Yes ma'am, it is my job after all."
"Thanks Dan'lya… I can always count on you." Kelia said, smiling softly at her.
Dan'lya's fur swam even more vibrantly at the praise.
["Captain Los'ean to the bridge."] Perth's voice called out over her comlink, causing Kelia sigh in exasperation.
"Well, duty calls…" She muttered.
"It's alright Captain, I'll get everything sorted out and on your desk by the time we arrive at Dressel." Jural assured Kelia.
Kelia nodded as she stood up and walked out of the officer's lounge, leaving Dan'lya to pull out her datapad and begin to work while she took another sip of her ale.
o.o.o.o.o
The Kestrel finally decanted from the last leg of the trip to the Dressel system an hour and a half later.
Outside the bridge windows, Kelia watched as a Tawa police Citadel-class civilian 'cruiser' approached. The small freighter-sized ship was in turn backed by a pair of A-6 interceptors. "Ensure all weapons are powered off. But keep our shields readied, we'll need full particle for effective maneuvering in the Dressel Belt." She ordered.
"Sir." Perth acknowledged from her side.
Yap suddenly looked up from the crew pit. "Incoming transmission sir."
Kelia nodded at Yap. "Patch it through."
The faint crackle of lower quality comms systems issued over Kelia's headset, followed by a male voice speaking in the mixed basic/Bothese intonations of Askar Creole echoed over the speakers covering Kelia's ears.
Given the situation the police vessel's crew were either too flustered, or too lazy, to use proper basic.
Possibly both.
["Republic warship, this esh Tawa Police Cruiser Three. Gin-follow and dock a' Tawa, you. Understood? Nokiz place to dock a' Thellus now with all the traffic. Transfer gin-happen a' Tawa. Acknowledge."]
Indeed, even from here Kelia could see numerous Marshalcy vessels. These in turn being backed by ships whose IFFs read as being from the Bothawui, Sennati, Kothlisian, Krantian, and Torolisian Navies.
All of them were currently herding the horde of vessels from the since arrived convoy into smaller groups for further transit.
This being on top of the normal traffic the Dressel system boasted.
Of course, Kelia knew her own clan was here merely from the unmistakable presence of the Kandosii-class Darasuum Akaan.
The ancient warship, which bore the distinct house markings of House Ji'ean, was currently idling at a berthing station just outside the Thellus portion of the belt alongside a Bothawui Navy Recusant destroyer and a Sennatt Navy Vainglorious-class cruiser
She didn't know if Aean's Grum was aboard the Akaan, but it was possible given the magnitude of the situation.
Smiling softly at the knowledge her clanmates were in-system, Kelia nodded at Yap, who opened comms with the Tawa cruiser. "This is Kestrel Actual; we copy your last Cruiser Three. Lead us in."
["Copy last Kestrel."] The cruiser's comms operator replied as it and the two fighters came about and led the Kestrel into the belt, smaller rocks smattering harmlessly off the warship's immensely powerful particle shields as it made its way to Tawa.
o.o.o.o.o
A handful of tugs zipped around the immense Venator and began to carefully adjust the ship's course with their tractor beams as it slowly drifted into a large warship berth fifteen minutes later.
The port had been originally designed for the handful of two kilometer long Invincible-class 'Heavy Cruisers' that Clan Askar maintained before the Dressel contention.
Now it was mostly reserved for whatever vessel was currently deemed the Clan's flagship if the Askar Grum chose to visit on it.
Visiting dignitaries and military vessels from other Clans used it the rest of the time.
And in this case, one from the Republic.
With a thud, the asteroid mounted docking clamps locked into place on the Kestrel and stabilized the ship's movement relative to Tawa, followed by a large docking collar extending from the hangar bay and connecting to the Kestrel's starboard-side bay door.
Several smaller Corellian type boarding tubes also extended from the facilities, with one nestling at the port on the side of the bridge tower.
"Alright you have the bridge, I'll go greet our hosts." Kelia informed Perth, who nodded and watched as she headed off the bridge.
"Understood sir. I'll have a team ready to accompany you." He acknowledged as the turbolift doors slid shut.
Exhaling. Kelia wrung her hands nervously.
It had been two years since she'd last been to Bothan space, owing more towards travel realities than personal preference.
As such she had found a low-rent tenement, financed by a biscuit baron waitress job on Anaxes instead of out of her personal accounts, to have been more convenient than booking passage on liners during the off-months.
Admittedly she liked the white and red checkered uniforms too, even if most humans thought they were hideous.
Still, the point remained that she didn't know what, if anything, had changed at home. Two years of cultural trends she had missed out on, combined with her own anxiety, made her worried about looking like an idiot.
Frowning, Kelia smacked the side of her snout. "Focus… You're just talking to a spaceport official, not chatting up socialites…" She muttered softly.
Okay, all she had to do was not shove her foot into her own mouth and she was golden.
Well, metaphorically speaking anyways, her fur was blond enough as it was.
Finally, the lift doors slid open, a Clone she recognized as Sabre saluting her as he and a handful of other troopers stood outside. "Sir! We're ready to go." The mustard-green striped Sergeant assured her.
Smiling at him, Kelia nodded. "Right then Sergeant, we shouldn't keep the Tawa port authorities waiting."
With that said, she strode down the hall, following the internal markings directing her to the airlock, her escort in tow.
o.o.o.o.o
AN: Let's just say that the concept of Bothans in non Bothan bodies is something Golm-Fervse-Dra allowed me to borrow over the course of our idea sharing. Tawa, Thellus, and Askar Creole are also from their Edge of Doom series as well.