Chapter 26: Itoll Oc'skar
In Orbit of Skor II
Itoll's now shiny jet-black fur danced with excitement as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Something about the way the new fur dye mixed with the remnants of the pink dye gave him a shiny reddish-golden sparkle. He flashed his teeth and sighed, suddenly wishing he had whitened them like a real Askar. Maybe I'll make this colour permanent.
Sey'les frowned, looking at her reflection, her now hot pink fur swirling nervously. She had insisted on being pink this time because Nebhir had said it was koovy.
Looking at her, Itoll smiled. "You look very koovy Captain."
"Thanks," Sey'les yipped, fur now dancing with excitement.
"Uh yeah," Nebhir agreed, a calm frown forming on the end of her snout. "Koovy."
Itoll smiled to himself. There. Maybe Sey'les will be off my case. She does look… Cute in a shaggy pink sort of way, I suppose.
o.o.o.o.o
"Air traffic is clear below us, ma'am," Itoll said professionally. Outside the window, Skor II drew ever closer as the Avaricious Snaltowg descended into its upper atmosphere.
"My father talked to the Serwald Autonomous Community High Council," Nebhir said matter of factly. "We should be cleared to land."
And now an entire local government knows we are landing, Itoll thought, fur swirling nervously. If Tarkin ever finds out… The Bothan looked to Trajan. The human was holding his wide brimmed hat with a grim moody contemplative expression on his face.
"What's Serwald like?" Fojo asked, sitting at a station behind Itoll's.
"Oh, very nice. You'll like it," Nebhir said cheerily. "It is very nice in winter."
o.o.o.o.o
As the ship neared the ocean, tiny white specks below grew ever larger, until finally, it was obvious that they were icebergs. Ten minutes later, as the Avaricious Snaltowg neared the planet's polar circle, the sun set below the horizon.
"The polar sun," Nebhir sighed. "With three-hours of daylight in the second month, you really get to appreciate the sun in winter."
Sey'les yelped when the ship flew straight into a howling blizzard, the yoke in her hand jerking every which way.
Snowflakes pasted against the transparisteel as Wulf said "just hold it steady Captain! You're doing fine."
Fojo swore aloud in Basic, then whispered away bitterly under his breath bitterly in Rodese.
Very nice in winter, Itoll thought to himself glumly.
Down below, along the sea in the darkness, a series of dim red lights grew more visible in the distance. They seemed to form the shape of a giant wall or perhaps fence.
"What are those?" Sey'les asked, pointing ahead through the window.
"Those are the Omwandersyövferteytowgen," Nebhir said matter of factly, with a hint of pride. "Quite handy to have in case the shields fail."
Itoll rolled his eyes, frowning.
"Okay," Sey'les growled cautiously. "What the kriff does that omwander… Omwandertowg mean?"
"Omwandersyövferteytowgen," Nebhir repeated firmly. "As syövferteytowg suggests, they are things that protect us from the sea. They form an omwanders around the land."
Remembering the flooded buildings along the shore of Metrobig City, Itoll started to put two and two together. Those walls must be there to hold the water back.
"Are you really trying to teach us Squibbian in the ten minutes we have left to Serwald?" Sey'les asked incredulously.
"No, that's not Squibbian," Nebhir snorted, rolling her eyes at Sey'les. "It's Serwaldish. A much easier language for to pick up than Squibbian, Sey'les. Much more beautiful too."
Beautiful? Itoll thought, furrowing his brow in disagreement. Omwandersyövferteytowgen is quite the mouthful.
"If you don't shut your yap, I'll give you something to pick up," Sey'les snarled.
"Nebhir," Trajan said worriedly, "let's try not to annoy the Captain."
"Thank you, Trajan," Sey'les growled sarcastically. "Maybe, if you let Nebhir make her own choices sometimes, she wouldn't be such a up little cowish Muunyak. Such an unpleasant, immature, blue, piece of kriffing—"
"—CAPTAIN!" Itoll yelped in alarm, fur flat in fear. Just a few days ago we were nearly mobbed by a pack of rabid Squibs! He looked nervously back at Nebhir.
The half-Squib now had tears in her big round eyes. Her lower jaw trembled.
"I am sorry," Sey'les croaked, fur swirling stiffly with nervousness. "I am so… I don't know what's come over me," she growled, looking at her reflection in the bridge window thoughtfully.
"Maybe you need a night off," Nebhir sniffled. "We've all been stuck on this ship. We're starting to get on each other's nerves."
Remembering Sey'les throwing water at him over dinner, Itoll agreed wryly to himself. I need to get away from Sey'les.
o.o.o.o.o
When the Avaricious Snaltowg descended on the city of Prosstäd, Itoll's fur danced with excitement. Over the dim light of the skyscrapers, through the darkness and snow, was a line of lights leading up the slope of a mountain. Definitely hover skiing.
"Is that a ski slope?" Itoll asked Nebhir and Trajan.
"Yep," Nebhir answered then added, matter of factly, "Serwald has the bestsnow in the Galaxy."
I am sure, Itoll thought sarcastically, remembering all of the other planets with ski slopes that made similar claims. Still, this will be nice.
o.o.o.o.o
Within two minutes of landing, the six crewmembers assembled in front of the LAAT/le in the spacious and nearly empty hangar. As usual, Sey'les barked orders to her subordinates, many of which did not need to be said.
"You know the drill, no going anywhere alone," Sey'les grunted. "That includes you Nebhir and Trajan."
"It is quite safe here," Nebhir reassured, gesturing gently to the hangar door. "No need to take extra security precautions."
"You are under my command," Sey'les snarled, "and while you are acting as Republic Operatives, you will do what I tell you."
"Hey Fojo," Itoll whispered to the Rodian. "Do you want to go to a ski shop and buy some gear?"
"Buy some?" Fojo whispered incredulously. "Renting is—"
"—We are loaded in credits with Trajan padding our pockets," Itoll growled strategically. "Besides, we can just sell it when we leave, or take the gear back to Coruscant. I've needed a new set of hover skis for a while. Also boots, a coat—We'll need to buy a coat anyways, it's kriffing cold!"
"Yeah," Fojo sighed. "All right, tomorrow morning we can—"
"—Hey, you guys wanna hit the Cantina?" Wulf asked with a tired groan, reaching his arms around Fojo and Itoll, pulling them close.
"Sure," Fojo said cheerily.
Itoll sighed. Kriff it. I don't want to be anywhere near Wulf or Sey'les right now. They are both driving me crazy.
"I can't," Sey'les growled, smirking slightly at the half-Squib. "Nebhir and I have a dinner with her dad."
"I'll accompany you, Captain," Trajan said. "I haven't spoken with Daymask Traf in a while."
Sey'les's ear batted in annoyance for the umpteenth time, but she nodded, accepting the human's presence.
o.o.o.o.o
Wearing winter field jackets over their multicoloured flight suits, Itoll, Fojo, and Wulf wandered Prosstäd, looking for cantinas. Fojo shivered in the cold, urging them along faster.
Prosstäd was much more diverse than Metrobig City had been. There was a visible human population, either residents or tourists, Itoll did not know. There were also Bothans, Tarsunts, and a surprising number of Squib hybrids, mixed species families, and Squibs that smelled a lot like Bothans or Tarsunts. At one point, Itoll could even smell some Lurmen when a Squib opened a door to an apartment bloc, although he did not see any.
Towards the ocean, forty-meter tall walls loomed in the distance, holding the sea back from the lower elevation areas of city and the empty snowy plains.
Nebhir is right, Itoll thought as, he, Fojo, and Wulf walked along a gargantuan wall to his left, with buildings shorter than the wall to his right, along both sides were parked speeders. This place seems safe. Like an actual civilised area. Nicer than CoCo Town. It is nothing like the hellhole MetroBig City was.
o.o.o.o.o
"It's so great to be able to just get smashed," Wulf yelled over the squeaky chatter of dozens of multicoloured and very drunk Squibs.
"Yeah," Fojo agreed, chugging a stein of a sour yeasty smelling Serwald beer called Yälmush.
"Huh," Itoll growled, fur twitching in annoyance. In front of him was a tiny glass of some sort of fruity spritz. Being stuck in the airlock with Wulf for two days was not as unpleasant as it might have sounded, but he wanted nothing more than to get away from the Ardennian's scarred round face.
"I can't drink in front of Sey'les," Wulf said. "She gets jealous, just because her kidneys are kriffed up." At that, the Ardennian angrily punctuated his sentence by slamming his stein on the table.
Itoll's fur stood up in anger. Because it's totally mine and Sey'les's fault that our government cybernetically modified our brains with implants that fry on contact with Hyperspace radiation. Our faults we got hooked up to hemodialysis pumps and stuck with artificial kidneys.
"Yeah," Fojo winced, giving Itoll a nervous glance. "Sorry," he whispered in the Bothan's ear. "You know Wulf, can be insensitive."
o.o.o.o.o
Lir Sey'les
"Erz-interestisk zhiza, yag trefa ko ta." ["It is interesting to meet you,"] Daymask said, taking a sip of Kothtri. He was seated at the other side of the long rectangular table from Sey'les, next to his wife, a tiny blue Squib named Stratogolilefari. Nebhir and Trajan sat across from each other along the narrow width of the table.
"Ęrz-tąshą-įnthęręsthįsk zhįzą, yągh thręfą kų thą." ["It is also interesting to meet you,"] Sey'les growled, fur swirling nervously at his very unconventional greeting. What is his problem with me?
Nebhir and Trajan looked at each other quizzically.
After sending Daymask a completely unredacted copy of their mission recording, Sey'les, Trajan, and Nebhir had trudged through the snow and caught a cab ride to Nebhir's parents' manor in the hilly suburbs.
"Nokiz pa Nebhir erz nizeg 'Bothask?" ["Is Nebhir not a speaker of Bothese?"] Sey'les asked incredulously.
["No,"] Daymask answered. ["No, she is not. Neither is my wife."]
["Oh,"] Sey'les grunted. So, he wants this conversation to be secret.
["Watching the footage of your mission was most enlightening,"] Daymask sighed.
["I told you, proof,"] Sey'les said firmly.
["Indeed. The Techno Union is conducting germ warfare research. Not only that but experimenting on live human subjects. You know though? I learned other things, things about you Captain."]
Gulping, Sey'les's fur swirled nervously. Shtak. What could this be about?
["I learned that, even though my daughter is a spice-headed criminal,"] Daymask snarled, fur on end, ["I can still be proud—Proud that she has more empathy, and a better moral compass… A better moral compass than you, a Captain in the Republic Navy."]
["The kriff are you talking about?!"] Sey'les yelped in outrage, getting up from her chair. Nebhir can't even be trusted to touch an ice cube!
["Is it often that you aim for the head? That you shoot fleeing unarmed beings? My daughter was shocked by your conduct, terrified of—"]
["—I always shoot centre mass,"] Sey'les snarled, flashing her teeth as her fur stood on end. ["Just, there's something I've learned in my eight years as a Judicial and year serving the Navy. For some beings, their centre mass is a little further north on their bodies, you know? This is true for humans, pretty much all kriffing Morseerians, all Gotals, all Koorivar, Mon Calamari, even some Bothans I don't like. You all have higher centre mass, Daymask."] With a feral toothy grin, she made the shape of a blaster with her fingers, aimed her fingers across the table at Daymask's head, and pulled the trigger.
Daymask's fur fell flat, eyes wide.
"What the hell are you two talking about?!" Nebhir yelped.
"I want to know too," Stratogolilefari growled sternly, big round Squib eyes open wide as she stared at Sey'les. "Daymask, you are scaring me."
"Oh—Nothing," Daymask croaked on the edge of a whimper.
"Yeah, we're talking about nothing important, ma'am," Sey'les reassured in her most professional tone, then cleared her throat with a soft cough. "Nothing anyone in the Galaxy needs to ever worry about again."
When the conversation switched to Basic and everyone's attention went to Nebhir and Trajan, Sey'les allowed her anxiety to show. As her fur swirled nervously again, a worrying thought crossed her mind: Do I need a lawyer?