Chapter 35: Gavin Azi'skar
Thellus Asteroid, Dressel System

As time went on, more and more, Azi'skar came to regret arguing in favour of holding the debates so late in the primary season. It had been so long that, he suspected, most residents of Tawa and Thellus had already formed their opinions. With less than a week before the first debate, quite a lot was on the Grum's mind.

The last few months had been even more trying for Azi'skar than the months after the Thellus attack. Zoc, his favourite son, though he did not like to admit he had a favourite child, had moved out. Storming out of their new rental unit dramatically to move onto the Yu'tor with Zerir and the rest of her crew.

The loneliness of his rental unit wouldn't have been so bad on its own, but with the re-construction of the Grum's Manor nearly complete, Azi'skar could only imagine how bad things were going to get.

In the polls, Zerir had been neck and neck with Azi'skar for the last two months. Shidar had been hovering between 9 and 10% support since the second week of her candidacy, when she had returned to the Gal'skar Docks. Azi'skar did not view her as a threat, however, he was deeply troubled by the amount of support she had. One in ten beings on my station would rather vote for a nineteen-year-old prostitute than the Grum of their Clan. Azi'skar could not decide what was more insulting. That, even after leaking footage of Zerir viciously biting a Mirialan to death, she was within two percentage points of him. Or, that one in ten beings would rather vote for Shidar than either of them.

Of course, Zerir is close to you in the polls. Your own son wouldn't vote for you.

"Grum? Grum, are you there?" asked Hidrina Borsk'nel, his debate coach. Hidrina spoke politely, yet her tone betrayed more than a hint of impatience.

Azi'skar sighed wistfully, sloshing a tiny cup of caf between his thumb and pointer finger. In the low gravity, the caf twirled like a whirlpool up the edges of the mug. "Could you repeat the question?"

"Why do you want to be Senator, Grum?"

o.o.o.o.o

Secretary General Vask Plo'tannen growled away in his thick Botha'ahir accent. "Phąm Ghrųm, ęrz aghkhąbhęlįyą khų, nųdhų phųmųnthą ųdh khųrm ręys." ["It is my belief, Grum, that you should withdraw from the race."]

Azi'skar's fur stood on end as he flashed his shiny white teeth.

The Secretary General of the Spacer Coalition's holopresence stared defiantly at Azi'skar, completely unintimidated. ["Can you even tell me why you want to be a Senator? You already have legislative power at the Combined Clans, you have executive authority in the Dressel System, and frankly, your son lacks your… Unique set of experiences."]

["I want to make sure the attack on my people, orchestrated by someone in the Republic, never happens again,"] Azi'skar answered robotically. This was, of course, not the truth. It was the same lie he and Hidrina had made up earlier in the day. One of those one-liners that he had repeated so robotically that his fur did not even swirl.

Vask scowled incredulously, fur twitching with further impatience. ["Well, what can I say?"] he asked rhetorically with a Spacer hand shrug. ["I think—"]

["—You only want me to drop out, so that someone on Botha'ahir will run,"] Azi'skar snarled.

["Nope,"] Vask replied dismissively. ["Our agreement stands. Whoever the Dressel system elects will be the next Spacer Senator. Whether that is you, Zerir, or even Shidar."]

His fur gave one nervous swirl, then held still. Azi'skar had not even considered that possibility. At the time he gave into further concessions in exchange for Botha'ahir backing out and voting on him specifically, he had not considered the implications. He had not considered the possibility of actually losing the election.

Vask smirked, then straightened his snout. ["Grum, I am informing you, that if you are not personally present at the Combined Clans Security Council Session, with the other other Spacer Grums, on Vorshtday—For any reason short of a life and death scenario—It would be as…"] the heterochromatic Tannen paused thoughtfully for a moment, as if struggling to say what he had to say next politely. ["It would be as baffling to us on Botha'ahir as your decision to personally enter the abode of the Supreme Chancellor and assassinate a Republic Admiral."]

Azi'skar gasped in shock. To his knowledge, the only beings who knew about what had transpired were in the Spynet. He opened his snout to refuse, after all, the session was in two days and he had to prepare for a debate in just five days. Then, Azi'skar caught his tongue, realising that Vask was threatening him. If I don't show up at the session, the Clan Onel and Tannen Grums will expose my escapade on Naboo. The Combined Clans will declare me mentally unfit to serve as Grum.

["I will be there,"] Azi'skar replied, flashing his teeth.

o.o.o.o.o

In the foyer of the two-story Grav'shtarn house, two Bothans stood. One was frantically searching for a datacard. In the Drev'shtarn dry season, packing for a trip of just two days would be light. However, when preparing for the rainy season, Azi'skar always packed raincoats and multiple pairs of shoes into, not one, but two bags.

"Grum, we have to go, the transport esh waitin' now," Trigger growled, holding one of Azi'skar's bags.

Azi'skar responded with a dismissive Spacer gesture for: wait two seconds.

Trigger looked at his chronometer, fur swirling nervously.

Aha, Azi'skar thought, grabbing the datacard out from under a pile of keys and code cylinders. "Found it."

Trigger led the Grum out the front door. Waiting outside were three of his bodyguards, Freyir, Thosk, and Vangon. Thosk and Vangon were new additions to the team, hired after the KHGC attempt on his life five months ago.

Vangon was short for a Spacer with mostly grey fur. After twenty-one years in the Thellus police force, he joined Azi'skar's team—Responding to Mandalorian terrorists was certainly not worth being paid only seventeen Zav an hour. Thosk was the exact opposite in almost every way. The cream-furred twenty-year old mixed martial artist was personally recommended to Azi'skar by the police chief.

The five Bothans proceeded from the doorstep, towards Azi'skar's new TannenWorks 8L speeder. A tall boxy airspeeder with shiny black paint that made it look somehow luxurious despite its cheap lazily shaped chassis.

Freyir opened the door for Azi'skar. The moment Azi'skar sat down, something wasn't right. His ears perked up, hearing police sirens coming from somewhere in the sphere's interior.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, several TW police speeders hovered up the street. They bore not the black and white colours of the Thellus police speeders, but the black and blue of the Marshals.

Two Bothans, hopped out of the nearest speeder. One wore full combat gear, a blue-coloured RIS armour suit, wielding a Bola Carbine. The other, a panicky black and white furred Bothan wearing a Captain's rank, wore a blue uniform with a black slugproof vest and a black helmet that sat dorkily over her ears.

Azi'skar's fur twitched in annoyance as he rolled down his passenger window. Kriff these idiots.

"GRUM!" the Captain yelped, fur flat in fear. "ROLL YOUR WINDOW UP!"

Azi'skar rolled down his window further. Already, her demanding behaviour was reminding him of Tav. She thinks she can boss the Grum around on his own station.

"Sir, we have reason to believe an attempt on your life is imminent! We have orders to escort you to New Aroo where an Otrek transport will take you to Bothawui."

Swearing under his breath, Azi'skar rolled his window up.

"Orders Grum?" Trigger asked, hands on the steering wheel.

"Gin-follow them. Follow the morons who let something else happen," Azi'skar snarled cynically. "Wonder what they must have kriffed up on this time."

After ten minutes of everything-seems-normal, Azi'skar began to suspect that the Marshals were seriously overreacting. He began to suspect that, perhaps someone was just pranking them. Nonetheless, he asked Freyir for the wrist comm as they neared the Grav'shtarn to New Aroo tunnel.

"Captain," Azi'skar huffed impatiently. "Do you think I should put Thellus under lockdown?"

"I—I don't know," the Captain replied, laughing nervously all of the sudden.

"How credible is this threat? What type of—"

—Beyond the transparisteel windscreen, the hood of Azi'skar's speeder split open. Metal shrapnel of electronics and bits of the engine column flew into the sky, bouncing off the windscreen. A second later, the loud supersonic crack of a slugshot echoed through the air.

"The airbrakes!" Trigger yelped. "They—shtak!"
Before Azi'skar understood what was happening, his speeder rear-ended the armoured Marshal vehicle in front. The Grum yelped as the seatbelts tugged tightly on his chest. An airbag deployed from the seat in front of him, smacking him in the snout.

o.o.o.o.o

"I—uh what…" Azi'skar croaked. Laying on his back, he stared up across the air to the green suburbia on the opposite side of the sphere's interior.

"You are going to be all right!" the black and white furred Bothan yelped, fur flat in fear.

Up close, even with blurry vision, he could read the name tag on her slugproof vest. иђир Фэў'лаб/Mithir Fey'lab." From Mithir Fey'lab's tone, Azi'skar assumed he was about to die.

"WE NEED AIR SUPPORT!" Mithir continued yelping as the Marshals ran around like headless dudub birds.

"Does anyone have sight on the target?" a Bothan growled nervously from his RIS helmet, waving his blaster in the sky.

"Shots came in at 88º," another panicky voice yelped. "Must have fired from two clicks away!"

As his mind acclimated to the chaos all around, Azi'skar's began to wonder who it possibly was who could have done something like this. Would Zerir really kill me over that video I leaked?