Chapter 11: Tav Mi'zya

Krant

Throughout the first month of remedial training, Tav was exhausted. As the weeks of constant exercise went on however, the middle aged Bothan began to improve in his fitness.

By the second month, he was more fit than he ever had been. That month, the exercises and training regimen changed to endurance tests. They were more difficult than anything Tav had ever done at the Martial Academy, but nothing he was unable to handle.

For the next two weeks, they would have four days to cross 65 kilometre stretches of wilderness. Tav's previously blonde fur was now dyed a shade of sage green. If his children could see his green fur now, they probably would have giggled with glee.

Tav had spent most of the exercise navigating for his battle buddy. However, on the second day, Erol began getting his own ideas.

"Nokiz ko horseya bakit pomonta mu do korn droga." ["I don't understand why we are going this way,"] Erol sighed despondently.

Tav and his battle buddy, a young Naval recruit, Erol had been in the Krantian wilderness now for three days. For the former Colonel, land navigation was a trivially easy task. Just look at the compass, verify that the sun is rising/setting in the correct spot, and go forward.

"Speak Basic," Tav snarled, looking around over his shoulder for listening devices. His green fur twitched impatiently. "The instructors told us to speak Basic."

"I no understan' the point," Erol scoffed.

"Maybe if you could pass your proficiency test, then we wouldn't have to speak Basic. We are going this way because… Look," Tav gestured to the setting sun. "That way. East."

"East yeah, but there's many brambles…"

"We are going this way," Tav snarled, stepping into a wall of brambles blocking their path. He yelped as one jabbed his knee through his pant leg. His green fur fell flat and the pain subsided.

"Tav, you're an idiot," Erol scoffed. "I'm going the other way."

"FINE!" Tav yelped, holding his arms up defensively as brambles whiplashed onto his snout. The Bothan absolutely did not want to be wrong and continued on, trudging through the brambles.

After a few minutes, the shoulder strap of his Boola Carbine got stuck. Unclipping it, with a snarl, Tav held it out in front of him using it to wedge a dense bloc of brambles away from his face. Shtak! This is bad…

Behind him, the brambles had closed, blocking his path back. Thick sage-green vines and leaves surrounded him in every direction.

"Erol!" Tav growled nervously, then yelped, "EROL!" He perked up his ears, listening in for any sound.

Erol guffawed, then yipped, "Tav! You are the stupidest son of a bitch in the entire Marshalcy! If the drill instructors come by—" the Bothan was overcome with laughter, unable to say a word. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "—if the drill instructors come by, I'll tell them you is stuck, yeah."

Tav's fur twirled stiffly. Kriff it. Going back will be humiliating. Only one way to go. Forwards.

o.o.o.o.o

After what felt like an eternity, and may have been hours, Tav finally emerged from the brambles—green bush uniform torn in a dozen spots, Boola Carbine scratched, long bits of spikey branches poking from the straps of his rucksack.

As his fur relaxed and began swirling nervously, a few thorns fell out onto the ground. Tav began furiously digging his gloved hands through his fur, trying to find any more that were still stuck. The sun was going to set in less than an hour.

Removing his boots, he began pulling thorns from his socks. Shtak. I am going to spend tonight alone… Stupid Erol Wa'lya. You should never leave a teammate behind Erol. He couldn't just follow me. Couldn't—wait! Tav's ears perked up and he sniffed the air curiously. Up ahead, he could hear the sound of rushing water and smell it too.

Opening his rucksack, Tav pulled out his flimsiplast map. The only river on the map was less than half a click from the finish line. The Bothan's fur danced with excitement. I am done! I did it. He smiled, yipping elatedly. Stupid Erol. He left me behind and now he finishes later. The instructors are going to be so proud of me. Finishing two days early!

Despite his torn-up gear, ripped up bush uniform, and thorns still caught deep in his fur, Tav's fur danced with excitement as he trudged on. Less than a click.

When the sun set, he could see artificial lighting ahead through the forest. I did it. I won. There is no way anyone could beat me. I, former Colonel Tav Mi'zya, showed these stupid Marines and Sailors how Marshals do it! With our brains!

The Bothan limped into a clearing, illuminated by a floodlight affixed to a tower. There were barracks, several tents, a few busses, and Tav could hear voices inside one of the tents.

Approaching the tent, he smelled cooked food. For a moment, Tav had a fantasy where the Marine drill instructors were so proud of him that they invited him to dine with them. He tried wiping the smile from his face, replacing it with a serious expression. Not quite knowing what to do, he stood at attention and let off an expectant "ahem."

"Tav Mi!" yelped Gunnery Sergeant Kifo Ay'nok.

"HOLY SHTAK!" yelped a Captain Tav had never seen before.

"GET HIM TO THE INFIRMARY!"

o.o.o.o.o

The infirmary, at this makeshift encampment, was a CR-20 transport jury-rigged into a modular hospital. As hemodialysis pumps and IVs were hooked into Tav, Kifo waited in the bright white hall.

For what seemed like an eternity Tav slipped in and out of consciousness. The very first thing he heard when he returned to consciousness was Gunnery Sergeant Kifo.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Kifo snarled furiously in Basic.

"Zhiza syu dosk." [He'll be okay,] sighed the doctor, Captain Trennan Gyar'fon.

["I am sorry Gunny,"] Tav stammered in Bothese, lying back on a bed. An IV inserted in his arm continued a slow trickle of antivenin into his system.

["The shpirak bush is poisonous,"] Kifo growled, balling his hand into a fist and resting it on a spot of the wall a meter over Tav's snout. ["You are lucky the toxin didn't make you so high—shtak I can't believe Erol Wa would abandon you."]

Tav's fur swirled nervously as he looked up at Kifo's arm. He was very glad the Gunnery Sergeant saw it that way. As the hallucinogenic and dopamine effects of the shpirak toxin wore off, more and more, he realised that in fact, it was he who left a teammate behind.

o.o.o.o.o

"Congratulations," Kifo said proudly in Basic, sticking a yellow ribbon on Kilar Maj's bush uniform, then sticking another yellow ribbon onto the uniform of her battle buddy. "You finished first."

In the morning breeze, standing at attention ten meters away, Tav did not dare protest. After all, it's only fair, he thought to himself. My teammate didn't finish yet. If we average my time with Erol's, I am sure it will be slower than theirs.

As the hours passed by, Tav continued standing at attention, watching every other team finish. Where is Erol? His fur twirled unhappily when, around noon, the smell of cooked food filled the air.

Shortly thereafter, the class gathered in formation on the grass. Tav found himself once again on display.

"As you might have noticed," Kifo snarled, "Sergeant Tav Mi is standing here without his battle buddy. Tav here decided the course was just taking too much time and took a shortcut."

Kriff it, Tav scowled. That is not what happened. I was just going East!

"Isn't that right Tav?!" Kifo snarled, spinning around to face him.

"Yes, Gunnery Sergeant!" Tav yelped, ears folded back in a nervous wince.

"For abandoning a teammate, Erol Wa is on his way back to base, and is going to restart the entire course in a new class. No one is to abandon a battle buddy, even if he is annoying," Kifo snarled, pointing at Tav. "Even if he is the scum of Bothawui. Even if he is Sergeant Tav Mi."

Tav gulped. Erol was quite popular with most of the Sailors in the class.

"Kilar Maj?!" Kifo snarled.

"Yes, Gunnery Sergeant?" Kilar asked.

"Tav's last battle buddy moved at too slow of a pace for him. Do you believe you can complete the course quick enough for Tav Mi to avoid taking shortcuts?"

Holy shtak. Tav's fur fell flat. Nezir would not be okay with this!

"Yes, Gunnery Sergeant!" Kilar yelped, then began snarling, "if Tav Mi attempts to leave me behind, I will kick his kriffing ass."

"Good," Kifo said with a proud smirk.

o.o.o.o.o

Taniar Trav'nel

On the other side of Krant, the standoff between the Spacer Coalition and Clan Aean continued. A few days after Taniar and her forces were captured, aid from the Red Sigil arrived, along with intermediaries from the Bothan Diplomatic Corps. They were escorted by a team of Marshals. The lead Marshal, Colonel Keok Gran'tannen, was from Botha'ahir.

The local leader, Zovir Ras'ean had snarled furiously to her Grum, yelping in a panic, believing Keok would be an unfair intermediary. Taniar's fur had danced happily when she saw the variegated fur and heterochromatic eyes of a fellow countryman. Along with the member of the Diplomatic Corps, Edep Im'val, Keok and the Red Sigil met with all of the Botha'ahir Marines. They made sure to gather statements from each of them—a statement away from the watchful eyes of the Aean Bothans.

Then nothing came of it.

It became clear that he had absolutely no authority in this situation, and Edep Im'val had his hands tied. The Botha'ahir Bothans' conditions had improved vastly since the arrival of Grum Vekor Ji'ean, but their situation had stagnated. They were still being held in a motel, only allowed to roam with escorts. More hostiles were entering the town every day.

o.o.o.o.o

Taniar awoke to the sound of drumbeats and the noontime sun blazing through her window. The Botha'ahir Gunnery Sergeant felt disgusted with herself. Her rusty tan and black fur twirled unhappily. I used to wake up early every single day. This captivity is dragging on for too long.

She sighed, standing up in front of the window, looking for the source of the drumbeats. As usual, the Bothan-Wookiees were behaving strangely.

She and the other prisoners now shared the motel with over a hundred Wookiees and Ghawashyr-smoking naturist Bothan-Wookiee exiles. In the day, they sat around bonfires in front of the motel, beating drums.

Taniar had no idea how Zovir could tolerate these beings in her town. She assumed the Bothan-Wookiees were here just as a way to get around Grum Vekor Ji'ean's prohibition on torture.

Zovir's not allowed to shoot my snout with a Guardian Lightning Canon anymore. She can, however, subject my nose to these degenerates.

When the Bothan-Wookiees first arrived, Taniar's eyes had watered from the overwhelming smell of Wookiee spice-smoking and funk. Both the Wookiees and Bothans were blunt and had absolutely no boundaries. Several times a week, Taniar found herself having a conversation with a complete stranger—a complete stranger who put their shaggy dirty hand on her shoulder.

One thing was certain to Taniar as she began dressing herself in her orange jumpsuit. If my people attempt a rescue now, we will be declaring war on all of Krant.

Opening her door, she stepped into the hall. The sound of a vacuum droid could be heard in the distance. Many doors were open. The Bothan-Wookiees had few possessions and the Botha'ahir Bothans had all of their possessions seized, save a few snacks and trinkets gifted from their families.

Taniar locked her door behind her, then headed down the hall.

"Sir? Zrask?" Taniar growled, walking up to Zrask Oc'nel's open door. In their captivity, Taniar had begun awkwardly communicating with her superior officers on a first-name basis.

The engineer was not present. An empty pair of shoes however, told Taniar that he must be in the motel somewhere.

She continued down the hall, past the door of her least-favourite Bothan after Zovir—the leader of the Bothan Wookiees.

Rhrumaymayhlma was the strangest Bothan Taniar had ever met. She spoke Bothese with as thick of a Shyriiwook accent as a Wookiee and wore nothing but beads in her shaggy black fur. And she stunk.

Taniar scowled as she stared at Rhrumaymayhlma's door. She's probably high on spice somewhere. Maybe roaring at the sky for it to rain again. The Gunnery Sergeant smirked, remembering the time Rhrumaymayhlma had explained why it was bad for a Bothan's fur to shower and that, instead, Bothans should wait for the rain.

Clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth disapprovingly, Taniar continued on, thinking more about Rhrumaymayhlma. What does that kriffing weirdo get by being here for a month and a half? It's all just a big party to her. Another cause célèbre for her lazy pacifist ass to protest. Another—

—Taniar yelped in terror when Gurosk's door opened; her sniper, Gurosk, did not emerge. Instead Rhrumaymayhlma did.

"Zom erz pa Gurosk? Zon—" ["Where is Gurosk? What—"] Taniar gasped, sniffing the air. Rhrumaymayhlma smelled like her usual self and—"Shthąkh!" she snarled, swearing in Bothese.

The green and yellow beads dangling from the knotted fur on Rhrumaymayhlma's snout jiggled as she cocked her head curiously, ears perked up. ["Taniar,"] she slurred in her Shyriiwook-accented Bothese, blinking her amber eyes. ["We are all equals. Gurosk is mine to share with you."]

Taniar's snout fell open in shock as she regarded the naked Bothan. Then she tightened it, scrunching up her face in disgust. I wouldn't kriff Gurosk if he were the last Bothan on Botha'ahir and—she snarled, bashing Rhrumaymayhlma out of the way with her shoulder.

Rhrumaymayhlma moaned angrily in protest, groaning something in Shyriiwook.

If Taniar had taken a moment to calm down, even five seconds, she probably would have told Gurosk to be careful. Instead she barged into his room, scared and angry.

Gurosk was hurriedly pulling his pants up. ["Gunny!"] he yelped, looking afraid of Taniar for the first time. ["I can explain. Rhrumaymayhlma and I were—"]

—Taniar's fist collided with his wet nose. Struggling to pull up his pants, Gurosk did not raise his arms in defense, but fell to the ground.

["YOU KRIFFING IDIOT!"] Taniar shrieked, fur standing on end. ["IF RHRUMAYMAYHLMA ACCUSES YOU OF ANYTHING, WE'RE DEAD! ZOVIR WILL KILL US ALL! YOU KNOW WHAT SHE'S CAPABLE OF!"]

In the hallway, Rhrumaymayhlma began yelping and moaning in Shyriiwook.

Kicking Gurosk on the ground, Taniar was now yelping phrases like ["Fraternising with the enemy!"] and ["PIECE OF SHTAK!"]

["Gunny please!"] Gurosk yelped. ["I'm sorry. I don't think they will—ouch!"]

Taniar continued punching and kicking Gurosk until an actual Wookiee picked her up and threw her through the doorway into the hall. She yelped as her head impacted the wall. Wincing in pain, Taniar saw stars.

Without warning, the Wookiee began picking her up.

Rhrumaymayhlma snarled something in Shyriiwook and the Wookiee dropped her as suddenly as it began.

["You are so like a typical Bothan,"] Rhrumaymayhlma scoffed.

Groaning as she sat on the carpet, Taniar grabbed her head. No blood. Good.

Gurosk staggered out of the room. ["Gunny, I am sorry. Are you all right?"]

["I think so,"] Taniar sighed. ["Sorry for—are you all right?"] She blinked, staring at his bloodied snout.

["Yeah,"] Gurosk smirked.

["I won't tell Zovir,"] Rhrumaymayhlma muttered suddenly.

The Wookiees began yowling at her.

Shtak. I didn't even think of that. Taniar's fur swirled nervously as she looked up at Rhrumaymayhlma. ["Thank you."]

Rhrumaymayhlma moaned in a sage voice, with a confident, almost Wookiee-looking smirk. ["I won't tell Zovir if you go to our Festival of the Sky's Lament and bring all of your people. I think it would be good for you if you were exposed to our culture."] As if to show off, she put her shaggy arm around Gurosk's shoulders.

Gurosk's fur swirled with embarrassment.

Taniar's fur twitched in annoyance.

o.o.o.o.o

Taniar scowled as rain poured from the sky, soaking her fur to the bone.

In front of the motel, the sky continued lamenting upon the mostly stoned Bothans and Wookiees, who danced around the smouldering bonfires on the muddy grass. A few Aean guards loomed around the rave.

Varesk Po'nel yipped excitedly, then began chugging a bottle of Accarrgm.

["Corporal!"] Taniar snarled, pushing his bottle-holding hand down. ["You have had a bit too much to drink!"]

["All right Gunny,"] Varesk slurred holding out the bottle.

Taniar grabbed it from him, then turned around and walked towards where she could smell the Corps of Engineers prisoners. Holding the bottle, the soaked Bothan carefully walked between the dancing beings. A few would walk backwards, not looking where they were going, and either get in her path or nearly collide with her.

Two minutes into her journey through the wet crowds, Taniar spotted Gurosk Lon'tannen. Amidst a harem of Wookiees and Bothan-Wookiees, he had decided to go native and now wore nothing, a stick of Ghawashyr poking out of his snout as he smirked. Sheets of rain fell upon his variegated grey-blue and tan fur.

Taniar scowled. Once again, the words fraternising with the enemy crossed her mind. Holy shtak this… This is out of control.

By the time Taniar reached the other side of the crowd she had seen and smelled many things she simply could not unsee or unsmell.

At the edge of the crowd, Zrask Oc'nel shivered, staring ahead despondently. He and the other Engineers wore orange jumpsuits and calmly sipped beers, staring around at all of the chaos.

Taniar smirked, exhaling in relief through her nose. The sight of other beings not enjoying themselves in the midst of this debauchery made her feel not alone. "Good evening sir!" she yelled over the rain in Basic.

Zrask snorted, holding his hand out to catch some rain drops. "Good evening, Gunny."