Chapter 30: Itoll Oc'skar
Merj
"I—I am going to get a shower if that's all right," Itoll growled, stroking the huge, clawed, furry hand gripping his chest fur. "I really need to get my day going."
At 0812, when Itoll woke up automatically, feeling like he had overslept, the polar sun was still nearly an hour away from rising. The Bothan was eager to get out of bed and start the day.
Of course, Shiptar had woken up. Next thing Itoll knew, the Shistavanen had turned the straightforward business of simply waking up into an aggressive snarling cuddle session that would have looked like a furious wrestling match to an outsider.
"All right," Shiptar sighed reluctantly, his hot breath blowing into Itoll's ear.
Batting his ear, Itoll crawled to his hands and knees once Shiptar let go of him, then shook his whole body as if shaking off water. He groaned, noticing a cramping spot of pain in the back of his neck.
"Wait a sec," Shiptar yawned. "I'm hopping in too."
Itoll's fur swirled nervously as he got out of bed. I'd rather shower alone.
On the whole, while Itoll had plenty of fun with the Shistavanen, Shiptar was absolutely not his type. With his cutesy clumsiness, complete and utter inability to hover ski, and mysterious exotic musk, Itoll had gotten the wrong first impressions. Under that thick snow coat, Itoll had imagined a pudgy and tall, but out of shape, near-Bothan.
What the Bothan got however was, by far, the strongest and most muscular sentient he had ever seen. Itoll felt like nothing more than a toy to Shiptar—A type of companionship that could work for a one-night stand for Itoll, but certainly nothing longer term.
"So, look, I was going to get back to my ship now," Itoll said firmly. "I just want a quick shower before—"
"—You said you'd be here the next four days at least," Shiptar growled, putting his knuckles under Itoll's snout, pushing the Bothan's chin up with the back of his hand. "I was hoping to get four more days of you. We have something deep, don't we?"
"Yeah well, I really need to get going," Itoll growled more nervously, staring up into Shiptar's fiery energetic yellow eyes.
On top of Itoll's many reservations about the Shistavanen, worse than everything else, Shiptar did not respect him. He had a habit of saying creepy-sounding things that made the Bothan feel unsafe. Not in imminent danger, but definitely unsafe longer term. Creepy things like—
"—Oh, you're not going anywhere without me," Shiptar scoffed, pinching Itoll's snout firmly to force the Bothan's mouth open.
Gulping nervously, Itoll took a huge breath, preparing for his umpteenth smothering kiss.
The Shistavanen laughed gently as he slobbered on the Bothan, gripping the fur at the bottom of his chin.
Nose squashed up against Shiptar's snout, Itoll took a shallow breath, smelling nothing but Shistavanen, then pulled back.
Strings of saliva connected the two snouts as the Bothan and Shistavanen blinked at each other. Suddenly, Shiptar's wrist comm began buzzing. "Oh shassa," he groaned.
Itoll's ears perked up as he looked down curiously at Shiptar's wrist. He somehow hadn't even noticed that the Shistavanen was wearing a wrist comm.
"Itoll," Shiptar growled firmly, "I need to take this."
"Huh," Itoll said, continuing to stare at Shiptar's wrist. His ears perked up even higher.
"Get in the shower," Shiptar growled, leaning his snout up against Itoll's right ear.
The Bothan thought nothing of it, expecting Shiptar to whisper something. Instead, Shiptar snarled loudly. "I told you to get your in the kriffing shower! Get in there, and don't spy on my conversations." He firmly gripped the Bothan's shoulders without warning, pushing him back towards the doorway.
"Ouch! Ship!" Itoll yelped, walking angrily towards the refresher. "WHAT THE KRIFF!"
Slamming the door behind him, Shiptar growled apologetically. "Sorry, I just really need to take this and it's private. Just shower up without me."
If he's this much of an asshole when he just met me… "You can't just shove me places!" Itoll yelped loudly through the door, banging his fist against the wood. "Kriffing asshole!"
"Sorry," Shiptar grunted dismissively.
Startled, Itoll blinked his eyes, fur now swirling with suspicion as a female voice spoke through the comm on the other side.
Itoll wondered to himself who that could possibly be, then looked around the room for a possible escape without having to openly reject this terrifying monster.
There was a snowy rectangular window about a meter above the toilet. I could definitely step on the toilet and slip through that. But… Oh yeah, my clothes are in the bedroom and it's kriffing -30º outside. I just need to be firmer. No goodbye sex. I am leaving, asshole, and that's that. If you hurt me again, I am calling the cops. The teeny-tiny Squib cops. Hell, if I shower now, I might even be able to get dressed while he's showering and slip out.
As the warm water ran down his back, Itoll began rubbing his hands up and down his strained aching body, checking for bruises or cuts. On the side of his snout, he felt a missing dot of fur and some raw skin—Exactly in the shape of the tip of Shiptar's thumb-claw. "To hell with this guy," he snarled to himself, seething with rage.
o.o.o.o.o
Shiptar Tovrak
"Oh, Director Pax is going to love hearing this!" Hista's voice guffawed from Shiptar's wrist comm.
"He's calling?" Shiptar growled nervously.
"Affirmative," Hista chortled. "Get out your holoprojector pad."
Digging through his suitcase, the Shistavanen gingerly lifted the barrel of his partly disassembled NT-242 anti-armour sniper rifle. Digging through a stack of underwear, he pulled out the holoprojector pad in one hand, and pants in the other.
Listening in on Itoll to make sure the shower was running, Shiptar stepped into a set of tightly fitting snow pants with a groan, then pulled a sweater on hurriedly.
Looking in the mirror in front of the foot of the bed, he cringed. The Shistavanen's mane was unkempt, fur was sticking out every which way, and his snout was damp with Itoll and his own drool. His eyes looked sleepy and tired. Shiptar looked exactly like he had kriffed someone, fallen asleep for a few hours, kriffed that someone again, woken up a few hours later—Extremely grumpy due to that same someone waking him on a Republic military schedule, and then, to top off a completely feral night of debauchery, neither showered nor combed his hair.
As the holopad beeped, he quickly wiped his snout on his sleeve, drying it as best he could, then wiped the crust out of his eyes. Well, here goes nothing. He sighed despondently as he pressed the "accept" button.
Two holopresences appeared on the floor, directly next to his suitcase.
"Good morning Director, Admiral," Shiptar said as professionally as he could.
"Good morning, General," Hista chortled, her holopresence shaking with laughter.
"What is going on?" Pax asked sternly, his holopresence wearing his characteristic wide-brimmed Duros hat.
"I made contact with Itoll," Shiptar reported, holding his hands clasped behind his back as he stood tall.
Hista guffawed even louder, holding up one finger in a wait a moment gesture. The moment never came. She laughed and laughed until tears flowed down her long Muun face.
"That's good to hear," Pax said cautiously, glancing nervously to Hista. He then glared at Shiptar for explanation.
"You uh…" Shiptar growled nervously. "Sir, you didn't say Itoll goes both ways in your personnel file. You only said he had a relationship with some Jedi woman named Jazal."
"Well, I didn't include everything," Pax snorted. "I could have told you how many fillings he has, or how many…" The Duros's drawling voice trailed off. "You—You kriffed Itoll! You kriffed my friend! Didn't you?"
"Yes sir. Last night, I was intimate with Itoll Oc'skar," Shiptar reported firmly, unable to stop his toothy snout from smirking proudly. That Bothan can hardly walk now. This is standard spycraft, isn't it? Sleeping with your target.
"Holy shassa," Pax gasped, holding his bald blue head in his hands. "You—You idiot! He's going to be so angry when he gets to Murkhana! He's going to tell Fojo! He's going to think I set you up with him. That I—WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING?!"
"I think," Shiptar started, then licked his lips. Standing there with his tongue sticking out, the Shistavanen was not entirely sure what he thought. His thoughts slowly drifted to Itoll, scrubbing off in the shower.
"You're… You're thinking about Itoll!" Pax gasped in shock. "Unbelievable. No this is… Get them to Murkhana. I want Itoll, Fojo, Sey'les, and Wulf on the Actuarial today."
"Very well sir," Hista's holopresence said. "I will send down a drop ship with some commando units."
"Itoll will be easy sir," Shiptar smirked, ignoring Hista and turning to Pax. "He's so whipped… If I told him to shut up and get into my duffel bag, the little Bothan would stay quiet all the way through the blastport security if need be, trust me. Fojo and the rest though—"
"—I don't want to know this!" Pax yelled. "Don't hurt them. Don't stuff Itoll in a duffel bag. He might suffocate! Get them all on the Actuarial, safely."
"Can do sir," Shiptar growled. "I'll make arrangements after Itoll gets out of the shower."
"You will—What?" Pax blinked in disbelief. His holopresence whispered urgently. "Is Itoll there with you, right now?"
"Yes sir," Shiptar answered, still clasping his hands behind his back.
"Itoll is a trained Republic operative who is fully capable of shooting you," Pax whispered urgently. "Do not underestimate him, do not underestimate Sey'les, and do not call me when… This is unbelievable. Unbelievable."
At that, the Duros hung up after giving Shiptar a very angry stare.
The Muun guffawed again, her holopresence stooping down and pressing the terminate button as she continued to laugh.
Shiptar whistled in relief. He had been worried Pax might fire him. This is… Well Pax isn't happy about it, but I am sure he'll give me permission to keep it up with Itoll when we're all on Murkhana.
A knock on the door disturbed Shiptar's reverie.
"I CAN SMELL YOU! OPEN THE KRIFFING DOOR!"
o.o.o.o.o
Itoll Oc'skar
"Good morning," Itoll said, standing fully clothed in the doorway with a towel around the back of his head. His fur was extremely damp.
In the dark pre-dawn morning, Sey'les and Wulf stood on the balcony in front of the exterior entrance to Shiptar's room. Snow fell lightly from the dark sky, sticking in their fur.
Sey'les had been sniffing the air since before Itoll answered the door.
"This is Shiptar, ma'am," Itoll growled proudly, flashing a toothy grin. He reached over, firmly gripping the Shistavanen's hand.
"Oh… Hi," Shiptar growled, eyes wide in surprise.
With Sey'les standing right there, Itoll suddenly found himself able to completely ignore all of the Shistavanen's flaws. He was prepared to spend four nights with Shiptar, to put up with all of the misbehaviour and his domineering attitude, the possible injuries from the Shistavanen's ferocious ideas about sex, all just to get under the Captain's skin. Look, I am on shore leave and I kriffed someone—Someone who is not under my chain of command! And he's totally your type Sey'les. Look! A big hulking chunk of pure unadulterated ridiculous masculinity. Oh, and he's an idiot, also your type. He's dumber than Wulf!
Looking at Itoll's facial expression, Wulf chuckled to himself, then closed his mouth when Sey'les glared at him.
"This isn't about Shiptar," Sey'les growled cautiously.
Sure, it isn't. Itoll rolled his eyes.
"I ordered you to stay with your battle buddy—to not wander around on this planet alone. This fraternization—"
"—Fraternization ma'am?" Itoll snarled, letting go of Shiptar's hand. "Fraternization, like you and Wulf, huh?"
Sey'les scowled, fur beginning to swirl stiffly, a mixture of nervousness and anger. "That's different. You don't know who Shiptar is."
"And you do?" Itoll scoffed.
"I am ordering you to return to the ship. Pack your things, say goodbye to the kriff-buddy, and—"
—Itoll stepped out from the doorway, stepping right up to Sey'les and Wulf. Remarking his two stunned colleagues, he hmm'd to himself aloud, and then brushed past them, walking along the balcony towards the stairs. The tips of his damp fur were beginning to frost. Shtak this is stupid, but I need to make a point.
"Did I dismiss you?" Sey'les huffed, blowing steam into the cold air. "Lieutenant! Did I dismiss—WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!"
"For a walk!" Itoll yelped.
"For a walk?—A WALK?!" Sey'les yelped back. "GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!"
Itoll continued walking away defiantly. He could hear two pairs of crunching footsteps in the snow following him, but he didn't look back.
"THIS IS INSUBORDINATION!" Sey'les shrieked, following Itoll into the speeder parking lot in front of the lodge. "DO NOT WALK AWAY FROM ME LIEUTENANT! YOU INSUBORDINATE DOME-HEADED MAN-SCHUTTA! YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN ME ANGRY!"
Man-schutta, Itoll thought, a furious scowl crossing his snout. All right, you've never seen me angry.He stooped down, sticking his right hand into a cold dirty pile of black snow at the edge of a row of speeders. With a grunt, he spun around, throwing a perfectly rounded snowball back towards the bottom of the staircase.
In a moment where time seemed to move slowly, Itoll winced nervously as he watched his black ball of dirty snow sail through the dim parking lot light, directly at Sey'les who was standing on the lowest step. It's going to hit her… Then I assaulted my commanding officer! SHTAK!
Sey'les's eyes went wide. Her snout dropped open in shock. The snowball split in two on her soft wet nose. The top half spewed gravel into her eyes, while the bottom half flew into her open mouth, exploding on her tongue. Snow, de-icing salt, gravel, dirt, oil residue, and all manner of foulness scattered into her nose, eyes, and mouth.
Snarling, whimpering, and yelping, the Captain coughed, gagging as she wiped gravel and oil residue from her tongue.
Wulf charged with all four of his fists clenched.
Itoll yelped, running to the left, leaping over the hood of a parked speeder before sprinting into a clearing. If I can stay ahead of Wulf till Sey'les calms down, then she'll—SHTAK. Twenty meters in front of the lodge, he tripped on a tree root buried in the snow. He tried crawling to his feet, but it was too late.
"I am so sorry about that!" Itoll whimpered, fur flat in fear.
The Ardennian began wailing on the Bothan, screaming as he kicked and punched him.
Yelping, Itoll covered his head with his arms as Wulf began stomping on him with his boots.
"Wulf!" Sey'les mumbled, continuing to wipe dirt from her tongue. "Stop—STOP!"
Ignoring Sey'les, Wulf rolled Itoll onto his back, using his bottom hands to hold down both of Itoll's hands. The Ardennian then straddled the Bothan's chest and began viciously punching him with his free hands. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
"I'm sorry!" Itoll yelped, turning his snout to the side as Wulf's fist collided with his face. Struggling, he was completely unable to free himself from Wulf's grip. He could only squirm.
"WULF! STOP!" Sey'les yelped loudly.
Wulf grabbed Itoll's whiskers and began pulling. "HE ASSAULTED A COMMANDING OFFICER!"
"And what is it you are doing?!" Sey'les snarled. "ENSIGN, ITOLL IS YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER TOO!"
Right as Wulf's mouth opened in a startling realisation that he too was assaulting one of his commanding officers, a dark brown predatory-looking animal seemed to come out of nowhere on all fours. Standing on its hind legs, it yanked the Ardennian up, holding him mid-air by the ankle.
A moment later, seeing a white blur from a t-shirt on the creature's chest, and smelling Shistavanen, Itoll realised it was Shiptar. "Shiptar," he slurred, lying on his back with blood in his snout. "Stop! Please don't hurt—"
—The Shistavanen slammed Wulf into the snow headfirst, then began punching him.
Screaming like a dying Ardennian, Wulf struggled to his two feet, trying to grapple just one of Shiptar's arms with four of his own.
With a snarl, Shiptar punched Wulf squarely in the chest, punctuating his attack with the chilling sound of cracked ribs.
Wulf collapsed to the ground, groaning as Sey'les ran to his side, yelping in a panic.
"You stay away from Itoll!" Shiptar howled, pointing his claws at Sey'les and Wulf, as if to demonstrate that he could have disemboweled the Ardennian if he wanted.
"Guys," Itoll slurred, standing up. He wiped his bloody snout on his sleeve. "Stop fighting!"
"We did stop fighting!" Sey'les snarled, kicking the snow furiously. "If both of you are done assaulting commanding officers, we are all going to the sickbay! I am going to restore some kriffing order to this chain of command!"
"Ma'am, I won't—I won't tell anyone about Wulf hitting me, or about him kriffing you, or about him sleeping in your quarters," Itoll slurred, spitting a fat wad of blood onto the snow. "If you… If you don't tell anyone that I threw a snowball that happened to collide with you. I am so sorry, ma'am. I really don't know what came over me."
"Deal," Sey'les snorted, grabbing Itoll's arm reassuringly. "I won't even tell Fojo."
"Glad do see you've all made up," Shiptar said with a smile. "There'll be less drama. I really hate drama."
"You know what Itoll?" Sey'les growled, smiling at Shiptar. "You can bring Shiptar on the ship. Hell, you can haul him all the way to Coruscant if it makes you happy. I just have a feeling we really need to get moving now. Something's dangerous. Really dangerous. My fur is—"
"—That is really nice of you, Captain Lir Sey'les," Shiptar yipped excitedly, mussing her mane with his claws. "All of you Bothans are just so fun! We are going to have so much fun together—But, not on Coruscant. You're reporting to my ship's sickbay, Wulf too."
"Your ship?" Itoll asked, ears perking up. Hey, did I tell him Sey'les's first name?
"Yep, you can restore your little cute chain of command, on my ship. Under me," Shiptar growled, flashing a devious toothy grin. He pulled his wide wrist in front of his snout, speaking into the comm. "I have Lir Sey'les, Itoll Oc'skar, and Razal Wulf. Commence Esh X-Ray."
Hearing metallic footsteps and crunching snow, Itoll turned around. His fur fell flat as three pairs of glowing eyes drew closer. Droids. What are droids doing here?
The Shistavanen's grip on Sey'les's mane became less playful and more vicious. She yelped in pain as he forced the Bothan to her knees.
"WHAT THE KRIFF?" Sey'les yelped. "LET GO—HOLY SHTAK!"
Three commando droids emerged from the snowfall, E-5 blasters raised. Unusually, the droids were painted in some sort of arctic camo pattern, their white and black splotched colour scheme blending into the surrounding alpine terrain.
Tightening his grip on Sey'les's mane, Shiptar pulled a blaster pistol out of his coat with his free hand, aiming it at Wulf.
Wulf swore angrily as two commando droids yanked him to his knees. One of them began binding his hands.
"Be careful with Wulf, I broke his ribs," Shiptar told the droids matter-of-factly.
Sey'les whimpered as Shiptar let go of her mane, then pushed her into the snow face first. She snarled furiously as the Shistavanen began putting her hands in bindings behind her back. "ITOLL! THIS IS TREASON!"
Fur flat in fear, Itoll looked around, concussed and dumbfounded.
"YOU SEPARATIST SCHUTTA!" Sey'les spat. "FRATERNIZING WITH THE ENEMY! LITERALLY! I LIKED YOU ITOLL! SHTAK!"
"What the kriff did Admiral Hill do to your paint?!" Shiptar snarled in outrage at the droids, ignoring the Bothan hissy-fit.
"Sir," the nearest BX droid said, standing at attention. "Admiral Hill said camouflage would make it more difficult for opponents to identify us or acquire targets in this environment. The tactical droid said she was correct."
"Very well," Shiptar sighed. "How far out is the—Oh, that's it right here."
"That's not our transport sir," one of the droids said matter-of-factly, looking up at the sky.
From the sky, a spotlight shone down onto the clearing. Beyond the spotlight was a mysterious dark bulbous vessel, about twice the size of an LAAT. Itoll had never seen anything like it before.
"Kriff. Morseerians," Shiptar snarled. "PREPARE FOR ANYTHING!"
"Roger, roger," the droids chanted in unison.
Sey'les croaked sadly, fur twirling unhappily as she sat on her knees, wallowing in self-pity. "Great, if it isn't bad enough that we got taken out by Separatists, if you hadn't nabbed us, the Techno Union was a few minutes behind. How did I fail so badly? This is like… a farce."
"Itoll?" Shiptar growled, ignoring Sey'les again.
Itoll held out his hands, fur still flat as he prepared to be cuffed.
"Get upstairs, pack our bags, and get back down here."
Bloodied snout hanging open, Itoll blinked in surprise. "Uh what?"
"GET UPSTAIRS! PACK OUR THINGS!" Shiptar snarled, putting his snout in Itoll's face. "DO YOU NEED ME TO DO EVERYTHING FOR YOU?"
"All right, Ship," Itoll grimaced. "I'll go pack our bags." He turned around, limping towards the staircase. His thigh felt like it was on fire where Wulf had stomped on it.
As the Bothan got further away from the scene without anyone shooting at him or handcuffing him, his fur relaxed somewhat and began swirling nervously. I am going to use the subspace radio in our room to call Trajan and Fojo.
Soon, he was opening the door, stepping from the dark cold outside back into the warm room of the lodge.
"Gah," he whispered aloud, vigorously rubbing his hands together to warm up. He picked bits of frost from his fur.
Stepping over Shiptar's duffel bag, Itoll reached towards the subspace transceiver on the nightstand. He paused mid-reach and noticed something shiny in Shiptar's bag. Huh, a blaster of some sort.
He groaned in pain, squatting down next to the bag, then began digging through Shiptar's clothes. First, he found the partially disassembled handle of a blaster and then, deeper in the duffel bag, a barrel.
Straining, he held the handle piece and stock still between his knees, then screwed the barrel on. Once connected, his ears perked up, fur dancing with excitement. Wow. An NT-242 sniper rifle. Shiptar must have a power cell… He frantically dug through the bag until his fingers touched something hard, metallic, and rectangular, bound in a ball of underwear and rubber bands.
o.o.o.o.o
Within minutes, Itoll had assembled Shiptar's sniper rifle and, with a pained yelp, pushed the bed up against the window. Laying on the end of the bed, Itoll had a vantage point over the entire snowy field in front of the lodge. There was only one tree in the middle of the field for cover, and all of the Separatists were standing well to the side of it.
Not only that, but the Morseerian vessel continued shining its spotlight directly on Sey'les, and Wulf, illuminating not the prisoners, but also Shiptar, his commandoes, and now six Morseerians who had repelled down from the vessel on ropes. Itoll could not have designed a better ambush if he tried.
Grimacing, Itoll stared through the scope, aiming at the most dangerous target. Shiptar's head. No, he sighed despondently. We don't even know who Shiptar is working for.
He aimed the sniper rifle lower, aiming directly at the Shistavanen's crotch. Snarling at himself, Itoll swore aloud, fur standing up. No, I don't want to do that either. KRIFF IT! I have to shoot him!
Angling the rifle to the right, Itoll zoomed in on Shiptar's shoulder—The shoulder to which his beefy, muscular, T-shirted blaster-holding arm was attached. He took a deep breath, steadying his aim.