Chapter 32: Hista Hill
Aboard the Actuarial, in geosynchronous orbit of Skor II
On the bridge of the Actuarial, a messy Demesne board sat in the centre of the room. A now unfinished and abandoned game between Hista and her tactical droid.
All of the Muun's attention was now where it should be.
Displayed on one half of the main viewer was a scene of devastation. Six Morseerian bodies were scattered across the snow. The roof of the lodge Shiptar had been staying with was riddled with holes, snow caving in. Tiny Squib first responders were running about through the parking lot.
The other half of the main viewer displayed the view from one of the commando droids' eyes.
"FREEZE!" a tiny grey furred Squib squeaked, aiming her blaster at the droids.
"Admiral, there is no sign of Itoll Oc'skar or General Tovrak," the droid's voice echoed in a monotone from main viewer. His head turned to puddle of red blood in a snowy body-print the shape of a Shistavanen. "I believe he was right here."
"BLAST!" Hista screamed, banging her fist on the terminal in front of the Captain's station. This is out of control. The Techno Union has gone too far. This is an act of war. "GET ME THE MORSEERIAN EMBASSY ON THE LINE!"
"I SAID FREEZE!" the Squib yelped through the main viewer in a terrified voice, ears falling down.
"The Morseerian embassy?" the commando droid asked, believing Admiral Hill was speaking to him. "That does not compute."
"No, not you," Hista groaned, massaging her temple. "Disengage and get yourselves back on the transport."
"Roger, roger." The view spun around, panning away from the lodge as the droid turned his head. His five compatriots, all painted an unconventional black and white, began retreating as fast as they could from the Serwald police, metal feet clanking on the snow.
"STOP OR I'LL SHOOT!" a Squib voice squeaked. "FREEZE! I SAID FREEZE!"
A second later, a blaster shot flew into view, hitting one of the commando droids in the back. The droid's black and white camouflaged armour held, but a scorch mark glowed in the centre of its back.
"We are under fire," the droid chanted calmly.
"RETREAT!" Hista screamed, sending spittle into the air. "DO NOT ENGAGE! I SAY AGAIN, DO NOT ENGAGE!"
"Roger, roger," the droid said, continuing to run at superhuman speeds through the snow.
Trembling in rage and confusion, Hista stood up, walking over to the comm station. It was manned by a tan and blue painted B1 droid. "I have the Morseerian embassy on the line, Admiral."
"This is Admiral Hill," the Muun hissed furiously in a croaky voice, shoving the B1 out of the way. "You have taken a Corporate Alliance General, and three prisoners wanted by—"
"—We have done no such thing," a voice replied calmly through the comm. "I ordered a retreat after an entire team was wiped out. Your General is either dead, in Republic custody, or in Squib custody."
"BLAST!" Hista screamed, croaking on the edge of losing her voice. "Scramble the fighters! I want a visual on that whole damn island! Get me Pax on the line!"
o.o.o.o.o
Lir Sey'les
Skor II
To Sey'les's relief, she was being treated as a suspect, rather than a criminal. The Serwald police had not even put her in bindings, allowing the Bothan to get in the back of the police cruiser of her own volition (after another pat down for weapons, of course).
The driver of the police interceptor, the red-furred Squib whom Sey'les had spoken to earlier, held the tiny steering wheel with one hand, sipping a thermos of caf with the other. His partner, a white furred Squib female, held the police radio transceiver, occasionally giving updates as to their position.
Up ahead through the front windscreen, the police van, of the same make and model as the police ambulances, led the way.
Turning her attention away from the snow-covered wooden houses and trees at either side of the road, Sey'les sighed, thinking about her feet. "Is it all right if I take my shoes off?" she asked, not wanting to alarm the Squibs as she reached for her boots.
"Sure," the driver grunted.
Sey'les cautiously rolled up the soaked leggings of her flight suit, then undid the frosty laces of her boots. The interior of the interceptor reeked with the smell of wet Bothan as she groaned, tugging off her half-frozen socks.
"A Captain, eh?" the white furred Squib growled in a thick accent.
"Yeah," Sey'les answered. Sensing the conversation was going to quickly go to information she could not disclose, she changed the conversation to something that would pique their interest. "I used to be a cop though, before the war."
"Huh," the driver asked. "Really?"
"I can see it," the white-furred Squib squeaked, smiling knowingly.
o.o.o.o.o
Hista Hill
Aboard the Actuarial, in geosynchronous orbit of Skor II
Pax's new orders were simple. Stop Shiptar from falling into enemy hands–kill him if need be, and capture Itoll, Sey'les, Wulf, and Fojo.
The main viewer was now segmented into a dozen of squares, each showing an area of activity somewhere in Serwald. Within ten minutes, Admiral Hill had superiority over the entire autonomous community.
Thirty-six probe droids floated in the clouds around the slopes of Mt Hornstersh, the town of Mitterlaken, and the suburbs of Prosstäd. In a very Banking Clan violation of planetary sovereignty, a hundred and sixteen Vulture droids, along with fifty Hyena-class bombers, were soaring through the stratosphere, circling Serwald like carrion birds, ready to attack at a moment's notice.
"We are being hailed by King Ebareebaveebeedee," the B1 at the communication station reported.
"Tell him this is an InterGalactic Banking Clan matter," she bellowed to the droid. "Four beings wanted for a 51% attack on our credit chain are being protected by Serwald. As long as the Squibs don't interfere, no one will be hurt. Now…"
With a few button presses, Hista selected one of the Hyena-class bombers from the fifty, taking full control of its communications' systems, then selected one of the two police convoys on the ground in Serwald.
Shiptar is almost certainly being taken along in the first ambulance since he is the most injured, Hista reasoned. She clicked on the ambulance (or the vehicle that appeared to be an ambulance), highlighting it for quick targeting.
Following her flight plan, the bomber broke formation, flying down through the clouds at a supersonic speed.
o.o.o.o.o
Lir Sey'les
Skor II
As the police convoy entered the suburbs of Prösstad, a thunderous boom made Sey'les's ears fall flat. The transparisteel windows shook as the Squib cops squeaked in terror, struggling to drive in a straight line.
Snow blew dangerously onto the roadway from the rooftops of the houses at either side as a black metallic blur flew past, too quickly at first for Sey'les to identify.
Sey'les leaned forward in her chair, growling cautiously. "We need to—"
"—ADMIRAL HILL TO SQUIB MINIONS!" a female voice yelled from somewhere, as loud as the supersonic boom had been.
The aircraft circled back into view, hovering stationary over the road, blocking the convoy from moving forward. The craft was now easily recognisable as a Hyena-class bomber.
The red-furred Squib slammed on the airbrakes, coming to a halt behind the police speeder van at the front.
"SQUIB MINIONS! LITTLE PEOPLE! YOU ARE AIDING BEINGS WANTED BY THE INTERGALACTIC BANKING GLAN!" the voice boomed even louder, from a speaker at the bottom of the bomber, causing the snow to vibrate off the road and rooftops in every direction.
Fur flat in fear, Sey'les put her hands to her ears, squishing them flat to protect them from the sound. The Squibs in the front seats did the same, squeaking in terror.
"STEP OUT OF YOUR VEHICLES AT ONCE AND SURRENDER THEM TO ME OR I WILL FIRE! THIS IS AN INTERPLANETARY MATTER, BEYOND YOUR JURISDICTION!"
Gasping, Sey'les looked up, tears in her eyes from the loud sound. It was far louder than a blaster, comparable to the sound of a thermal detonator. For Bothans and Squibs, the sound itself was an overwhelming shock and awe attack.
The red furred Squib cop turned around, looking at her, making eye contact. His snout was open in shock.
After just five seconds, without giving enough time for the powerful-eared sentients to regain their bearings, the voice boomed once again "VERY WELL THEN! YOU GIVE ME NO CHOICE!"
At that, a glowing red proton torpedo fired from the underside of the Hyena-class bomber. The police van in front of the interceptor Sey'les was in exploded right before the Bothan's eyes.
The transparisteel windscreen of the interceptor cracked as the armoured rear hatch of the van crashed into it. The front airbags deployed, nailing the two squeaking Squibs in the snout.
Sey'les swore aloud, yelping as she tugged on the doorhandle, trying to open it. She had to do something to appease the Banking Clan, even if just to buy time. The door wouldn't open.
"OPEN THE KRIFFING DOOR!" Sey'les snarled to the cops. "WE HAVE TO—"
—Another proton torpedo glowed in the sky. This one, however, sailed across the horizon, slamming into the Hyena-class bomber floating in front of the convoy. Another thunderous boom cut through the air as the bomber exploded dramatically, falling to the road in a fiery inferno.
Snow melted around the smouldering wreckage of the bomber as it warbled in a garbled electronic language for a brief moment before its eyes dimmed. Water vapor steamed into the sky.
A calmer, quieter, human voice spoke from a loudspeaker from somewhere. "Proceed to your destinations. I will cover you."
"Trajan!" Sey'les gasped, craning her neck as she stared out the passenger window.
An LAAT/le police cruiser, emblazoned with a Republic flag, was hovering in place over a row of wooden houses. Trajan and Nebhir had come to the rescue.
o.o.o.o.o
Hista Hill
Aboard the Actuarial, in geosynchronous orbit of Skor II
"The Republic!" the Muun gasped. "They aren't supposed to be here for days! Scan the whole system!"
"I am not detecting any Republic ships in the system, Admiral," a droid droned matter-of-factly, gesturing to his station.
The Muun looked around the bridge to her unfinished game of Demesne, then to the tactical droid. "Possibilities!" she barked. "Give me the possibilities!"
Lights blinked on the tactical droid's head for a moment. After four seconds, it began reporting a risk assessment. "There is an 87% chance a Republic ship is on the far side of the planet, ready to extract the prisoners. There is a 12% a Republic vessel is under stealth."
Hista exhaled despondently. Either way, this is supposed to be a neutral non-aligned ship, and there's a good chance the Republic is nearby, with more firepower than I have… We will need total air superiority and hundreds of droids on the ground, quickly. This ends now.
"All units, attack the police interceptors. Attack any spacecraft in the sky. Serwald is a no-fly zone! Ground units, prepare to move on the ambulances. I want them captured!"
On the main viewer, dozens of droid fighters and bombers swooped down, cutting through the clouds. Soon, the clouds parted as the view lowered onto Serwald. Dozens of exhaust clouds formed from the supersonic plumes of the droid fighters and bombers at the front of the attack, trailing behind as the Banking Clan's squadron of death descended lower and lower.
A low rumbling whooshing sound echoed from the main viewer; a hundred times quieter than the apocalyptic thunder the beings on the ground were hearing. The Admiral could not help but smirk in pride at the amount of firepower she was bringing down onto Skor II. Down onto those furball minions.
"Admiral," a B1 droned from behind the Muun. "I am detecting an energy spike from the sea."
From the sea? Suddenly, her eyes widened in shock, pupils dilated in fear. "PULL UP!" she screamed. A greenish liquid-looking ripple ascended into the sky from the sea in every direction, forming a dome over the snowy island. Beneath the shields, the skyscrapers of Prösstad glimmered in the dawn sunlight.
Descending far too fast to make a course correction, the lead Vulture droids impacted the shield at supersonic speeds, exploding as the shield rippled violently. The explosion grew brighter and brighter as more Vulture droids and Hyena-class bombers slammed into it. The dozen perspectives on the main viewer all drew closer and closer to the explosions until, one by one, they blinked out, replaced by static.
"Bloody hell," Hista croaked, legs shaking as more than half of her compliment of droids shattered uselessly on the unanticipated particle shield. She turned, ready to bark orders again, when the sound of an explosion rocked from one of the lower decks of the ship.
"We're under fire, Admiral!" one of the battle droids droned.
"Shields up!" Hista yelled as sparks flew from one of the terminals overhead. "STATUS REPORT!"
"Damage on decks seven through nine and fifteen through twenty. We lost… We lost thirteen of our turbolasers," the tactical droid chanted calmly. "We are under fire from a CR-90 Judicial Corvette."
"ON SCREEN!"
A black-painted Corellian Corvette appeared on the main viewer. It was not flying a Republic flag.
"We're being hailed," the droid at the comm station said, slightly louder and more panicky than the tactical droid sounded.
"Let's here this," Hista hissed.
"Captain Zozridor Slayke to the Banking Clan Vessel. Lower your shields and prepare to be boarded."
"Freedom's Sons," Hista whispered. "They aren't supposed to be operating in this sector."
A dozen Dunelizard fighters jumped out of hyperspace behind the Corvette. One of them immediately fired a torpedo at the shields.
"Shields at 89%, Admiral," a droid droned without being asked.
"Get us to hyperspace!" Hista yelled. "We are cutting our losses."
"That's inadvisable. We have the advantage," the tactical droid argued, "if we scramble the remaining fighters—"
"—You were programmed to follow my orders! Get us to hyperspace!"
"Activating the hyperdrive."
Seconds later, a hail of turbolaser fire, proton torpedoes, and laser canon fire began impacting on the Actuarial's shields.
"BANKING CLAN VESSEL!" the human voice yelled angrily through the comm. "CUT YOUR HYPERDRIVE!"
"Shields at 71%," a droid reported.
The ship shook violently as a stray torpedo from one of the Dunelizards got through.
"Plot a course to Sluis Van!" Hista yelled, voice on the verge of panic. If they take out the hyperdrive before we make the jump.
She sighed in relief as the stars outside of the bridge's many windows streaked. The Actuarial jumped into hyperspace, leaving Pax's chief of security to his own fate on the surface of Skor II.