Chapter 35: Itoll Oc'skar

Skor II

As the defenses around Serwald continued being built up, it became more apparent that a battle would unfold. Itoll grew less and less certain of her Sey'les's to remain on Skor II. But he continued to do what Trajan and Sey'les told him, helping the locals prepare for an attack.

The streets were crowded with speeder and bus traffic for most of the day, as the population was advised to seek out higher ground.

The shields could hold back an orbital bombardment, potentially for months. If the shields were taken down or failed, however, then the sea walls could breach—

"—Nebhir," Itoll growled nervously, placing another sandbag on top of the already existing wall of sandbags. "How far below sea level are we?"

The half Squib took her glove off, licked her finger, then held it in the cold snowy air.

Itoll scowled, fur rippling and twitching in aggravation.

"Thirty-nine meters, I'd say," Nebhir answered in a dreamy voice.

The Bothan spun around, looking gloomily at the Red Sigil building behind him. That means the water would definitely be lapping the eighth floor… "Why are we setting up sandbags if this spot is going to be 39 meters underwater?!" he snarled.

Nebhir shrugged, frowning as she looked at him with her big round eyes. She put her glove back on.

This makes so little sense, Itoll thought bitterly. We should move our entire defensive line back to foothills…

"It's possible," Nebhir muttered thoughtfully, "that they won't take down the sea wall, but will attack us from the sea in an effort to bring down the shield."

Itoll hmm'd to himself, conceding the point. His wrist comm buzzed. "Itoll here, what's the situation?" he asked, raising the comm to his snout.

"The prisoner was taken out of the bacta," Sey'les's voice growled. "He says he won't talk to anyone but you."

"Very well, ma'am. I'll be right up."

Sey'les terminated the line without another word.

Itoll sighed, swearing under his breath. Of course, that psychopath wants to talk to me.

"It could have happened to anyone," Nebhir groaned, heaving another sandbag. She dropped it next to the one Itoll had just placed down. "What happened is not your fault."

"No," Itoll grunted, thinking back to how quickly he had fallen for the Shistavanen.
How he had disregarded any of his suspicions and ignored most of Shiptar's glaring flaws. "It couldn't have happened to anyone."

o.o.o.o.o

On the twenty-third floor of the Red Sigil hospital, Shiptar laid in bed, handcuffed to one of the railings. The room he was in was windowless, with a few charts of Shistavanen anatomy plastered on the walls for reference. In the doorway, one Bothan and four Squibs stood nervously.

"We'll be right here if you need us!" a brown furred Squib cop squeaked, ears folded down in fear as if expecting to be struck.

Standing just outside Shiptar's room, Itoll scowled at the Squib cops. They were colourful, half his height, and looked completely useless in any sort of physical confrontation. "Thanks," he grunted, taking a step towards the door.

"WAIT!" one of the Squibs yelped. He pulled a datapad out of his back pocket. "King Ebareebaveebeedee has a script of questions he wants you to ask!"

Itoll yanked the datapad from the cop's hands, frowning as he read the screen. They were questions such as:

· "What is your purpose here?"

· "We know the Morseerians are working with the Ugors. Is the Techno Union working for the Ugors? If so, how long?"

· "Are Skakoans technically a sub-species of Ugor?"

· "How many Ugors are contracted by the Confederacy of Independent Systems for waste collection?"

· "How many Ugor infiltrators are in Serwald? What is their disposition?"

· "Is Count Dooku in talks with the Holy Ugor Taxation Collection Agency for exclusive rights to Raxus Prime?"

· "What is the Ugor plan for Skor II?"

Fur standing on end, the Bothan snarled incredulously. "These questions are either things we already know the answer to, or utter nonsense! The Ugors have nothing to do with any of this!"

"The Ugor threat is not nonsense," a blue furred cop snarled, folding her arms as she jumped to her feet. She pointed to Itoll, then to Shiptar. "You are going in there and ask those questions."

"KRIFF IT!" Itoll yelped. He stormed into Shiptar's room, holding the datapad.

Shiptar rolled over onto his side, staring at Itoll. A silver-coloured durasteel plate, a cybernetic implant of some sort, glimmered visibly through his fur above the collar of his blue hospital gown. He laughed in a weary croak.

The Squibs may be idiots, but somehow a few of them must be competent doctors, Itoll noted to himself. Build on your already existing rapport. "Hey, Ship. You said you wanted to talk with me?"

"Stick to the script," a Squib voice said through the intercom.

Itoll scowled. "So," he growled cautiously, sliding a spare chair up to Shiptar's bed. He held up his datapad, frowning more deeply. "You work for the Banking Clan then…?"

Shiptar narrowed his eyes, flashing his teeth.

"You know, there is no record of a General Shiptar Moronvrak in our database of Separatist personnel. I really don't want anything to happen to you, Ship," Itoll said, then added, in a more confident tone. "Since you haven't given us your real name though, you don't have Red Sigil protections as a prisoner of war. I might have to resort to enhanced methods to get you to talk." The Bothan's fur swirled nervously. He knew he was completely unintimidating to this massive Shistavanen—Unintimidating without a sniper rifle at least.

"Itoll," Shiptar snarled, then cackled as he continued lying on his side. "When the cavalry comes and breaks me out, I am going to lock you, Wulf, Fojo, and Sey'les in a cell and make you squeal. I won't be asking questions. Nothing you say or do will stop that eventuality. But, if you let me out, and surrender to the Separatists, I won't go quite as rough on you and your friends."

Fur rippling with worry, Itoll scooted his chair back a few inches, realising he was in grabbing range of Shiptar. "Uh," he croaked, "I don't think that's gonna happen."

"ASK HIM THE SECOND QUESTION OR I AM PULLING YOU OUT!" a Squib voice shrieked over the intercom.

Rolling his eyes, Itoll read the second question from the datapad. "Ship, we know the Morseerians are working with the Ugors. Is the Techno Union working for the Ugors? If so, how long?"

Shiptar sat up, then scooted over to the edge of the bed, allowing his feet to rest on the floor. The bed itself was taller than the chair. With the Shistavanen sitting up, he was now more than half a meter taller than Itoll.

"Are Skakoans technically a species of Ugor?" Itoll huffed bitterly. "Guys!" He snarled, fur standing on end as he looked back to the doorway, "that question is actually really damn stupid. If King Ebareebaveebeedee picked up a medical book like the doctors have here, he'd know Ugors don't even breathe the same air as Skakoans! So, you know what the answer is? NO! No, Ugors are not technicallySkakoans!"

"STICK TO THE SCRIPT!"

"No," Itoll snarled. "I am not sticking to your stupid script!" The Bothan furiously chucked the datapad across the room. As the it hit the wall with a dull thud, he turned back to Shiptar, sighing in relief that the script was out of the way.

"Oh, it's all unscripted now, is it?" Shiptar snarled with a feral grin. He closed his snout, swirled spit around for a moment, then spat into Itoll's face.

Itoll yelped, wiping the spit from a spot above his right eye. He stood up snarling, kicking his chair away.

"Here's my unscripted question," Shiptar laughed. "If I tell you my real name, will you do something to relieve some of my stress again?" Closing his snout, he pressed his tongue against his cheek in a vulgar gesture.

Itoll's fur fell flat. Not because of what Shiptar had said, but because he realised the Shistavanen was sitting up with only one hand cuffed to the railing. His other hand isn't cuffed. He can sit up… That means… Shtak. The entire time the Bothan had been trying to interrogate him, Shiptar could have leapt off the bed, pouncing on him.

Swearing under his breath, Itoll sprinted as fast as he could across the tiled floor. He heard Shiptar's loud clawed footsteps, his breathing, and the sound of a bed being dragged across the floor by one hand.

As Itoll cleared with doorway, Shiptar followed, grabbing at his mane.

Itoll spun around, preparing to bite, kick, and punch his way out, but he didn't need to.

Shiptar's bed snagged in the doorway with a metallic clang. The Shistavanen was yanked back into the mattress by one hand still cuffed to the railing. He snarled and howled, struggling to squeeze out of his binders.

For a comical moment, Itoll laughed wheezily, panting for breath. It was one of the funniest things he had ever seen. "Ship!" He yelped. "Calm down please."

One of the Squib cops, a one-meter-tall orange furred male, walked up to the Shistavanen, with a taser. The Shistavanen was more than twice his height. He squeezed the trigger, sending two electric rods into Shiptar's buttocks.

"No!" Itoll yelped, realising the Squib was much too close. "GET BACK! HE'S…" not going to go down with one stun from a taser.

With his free hand, Shiptar gripped the Squib's mane firmly in his claws. He cackled madly as the three other Squib cops surrounded him, tasers and garbage grabbers out.

Itoll reached for his blaster but grabbed an empty holder. For a panicked moment, he thought Shiptar had stolen it, but then he remembered he had to leave it at the hospital's front desk.

The blue-furred female Squib cop grabbed Shiptar's ankle in her garbage grappler.

Laughing madly, Shiptar pushed back against the bed, dragging the helpless squealing orange-furred Squib into the room with him.

Shrieking, the Squibs ran into the room after him.

"SHIPTAR'S LOOSE!" Itoll yelped into his wrist comm, remaining in the hall. "HE HAS FOUR HOSTAGES!"

"Holy shtak," Sey'les grunted. "Hold position. We are on our way."

The sounds of terrified squeaks, electric taser zaps, clanking metal, and thudding flesh echoed from the room. Itoll saw the orange-furred Squib tossed from one side of the room to the other.

Holding the blue-furred Squib in his free hand, Shiptar walked back into to the doorway nonchalantly, gingerly pushing the bed back into his room.

"Ship," Itoll pleaded. "Please, just let them go!"

"Come in here, so we can work our issues out, and I'll consider it!" Shiptar snarled.

"YOU'RE DELUSIONAL!" Itoll yelped furiously.

"If you don't get your ass in here, Itoll," Shiptar growled with a devious grin. "I won't just keep the Squibs in here with me. I'll eat them. One by one."

Of all of the completely insane things Itoll imagined Shiptar might threaten, cannibalism certainly was not one. Like something out of a horror HoloNovel, the wolf-man casually chewed into the upper arm of the shrieking blue Squib.

The distraught Bothan grabbed the nearest plastic chair, snarling as he charged the Shistavanen.

Snout full of blood, Shiptar tossed the Squib to the side into the corner of the room, then held his one free hand up defensively.

Itoll slammed the chair down onto his arm, swearing furiously. "You kriffing bastard! You have no droids left! No allies! Even if you kill these cops, what?! WHAT!" He swung the chair down again and again.

Shiptar grunted angrily, deflecting the blows.

The Squibs sat up against the walls, massaging their wounds and whimpering. The blue-furred cop was grabbing her arm, trying to stop the bleeding by tying a piece of bedsheet to it.

"GET THE KRIFF OUT OF HERE YOU STUPID SQUIBS!" Itoll yelped. "I AM DISTRACTING HIM FOR YOU!"

"Distracting me?" Shiptar asked in a snort of laughter. Reaching his clawed foot out, he ripped into Itoll's pant leg.

Itoll fell backwards, dropping the chair as he yelled in pain.

"Didn't know I could do that too. Did you, Bothan?" Shiptar snarled. "You see," he grunted, gripping the centre of Itoll's jacket with his other foot. "I've been going easy on you. Hell, I am still going easy on you. There are about ten ways I can kill you instantly with my bare hands."

Whimpering in pain, Itoll grabbed fruitlessly at Shiptar's foot, trying to lift it from his sternum. "Please! Just stop this. It's pointless."

"Pointless," Shiptar scoffed, putting more weight on Itoll's chest. "You betrayed me. You shot me!"

I betrayed you? You lied to me, used me to get to my team. Compromised— "I'm sorry," Itoll pleaded. "I know you could have killed me a hundred times over but didn't because you like me! Let's stop this, calm down and—"

"—Like you?" Shiptar muttered bitterly. He lifted his foot up, releasing much of the weight, but dug deeper into Itoll's fur with his toe claws. "I think I love you actually. I can't stop thinking about you."

"If that was true," Itoll croaked, pulling on the Shistavanen's toes, which were digging into his fur, breaking the skin. "I don't think you would have lied to me, hurt me, and continued—"

"—Oh, it's true," Shiptar snarled, then began growling more strategically. "I love you. I just… I need to just kriff the mission, cut my losses, and take you back to Murkhana. Just you. Even if it's only one fourth complete, a fourth is better than nothing, and I'll have you."

Murkhana… Itoll gasped in sudden realisation. Distracted, his eyes went wide as he loosened his grip on Shiptar's foot. Pax… That son of a bitch! Pax sent this kriffing psychopath after me.

To Itoll's horror, Shiptar picked a set of keys up and begun undoing his one cuff.

Damn. The Squibs must have been carrying the keys. I've got to get—

—Lifting his foot off Itoll's chest, Shiptar pulled the Bothan up to his knees. "Hands out," he grunted, brandishing the binders.

Sighing despondently, Itoll looked around the room. Everything he had done was pointless. Maybe he saved the Squib cops, but if Sey'les was nowhere to be seen. At best, they would rescue him, in a manhunt that might end up—

—A blue stun blast cut across the room, nailing Shiptar in the face. Grunting, the Shistavanen lurched. Two more blasts hit him, knocking him to the floor.

"Huh," Nebhir muttered in an interested tone, squeezing a fourth shot into the Shistavanen for good measure. "He's really big up close."

A swarm of Squib police, doctors, and nurses spilled into the room. Itoll lay back to the floor croaking the words "holy hell."

o.o.o.o.o

"What were you thinking?" Sey'les snarled.

After waiting an hour in a hospital bed, Itoll was scanned head to toe in a holoscanner, then cleared with only minor injuries. The four Squib cops all had severe injuries. Broken eye sockets, internal bleeding, external bleeding, broken arteries…

Sitting on the edge of his hospital bed, Itoll sighed despondently. "Shiptar was going to eat them."

"They're just Squibs!" Sey'les yelped. "Stupid Squibs! It's not worth it!"

Standing in the corner of the room, Nebhir snarled at Sey'les, flashing her teeth.

"Well, ma'am, what are we doing defend this planet if they're not 'worth it' then?" Itoll asked, nodding to Nebhir in recognition.

"I don't know what the kriff we're doing!" Sey'les yelped, fur standing on end. She stood up from her chair, pacing the room angrily. "The Republic told us to not enter Republic space because of a virus. I have no idea what's going on. I assume they'll be here in a few days to get us out."

"We should at least relocate to another part of the planet," Itoll sighed, standing up from his bed to look out the window. "The Morseerians know we are in Serwald. When—"

An ominous alarm sounded, ringing through the city. Moments later, the shield rose, extending into the air from the horizon like it had the last time there was an aerial attack.

"I think we should stay in Serwald," Nebhir said firmly. Walking past Sey'les, she joined Itoll at the window. "We have shields in Serwald."

Punctuating Nebhir's point, a rain of laser fire flew out of the clouds, seemingly from nowhere, impacting the shield. Within seconds, the shield was being hit in hundreds of places, as far as the eye could see. It was a mixture of ion blasts, turbolaser blasts, and smaller laser blasts.

Swearing loudly, Itoll and Sey'les rushed to the window. Sey'les pulled her comm up to her snout and began barking orders to Wulf, Fojo, and Trajan.