Chapter 37: Lir Sey'les
Skor II
The second Sey'les cleared the window, she knew she had made a mistake. In the smoky bridge of the Avaricious Snaltowg, her fur pressed tightly into her body as she writhed in pain. It was Antar 4 all over again. I am fire! I am going to die.
The smell of smoke was intense, even through the filters of her transpirator. All she could hear was alarm klaxons blaring. In the humidity of the intense steam floating in from the fire suppression systems on the lower decks, the lenses of her transpirator fogged up.
Collapsing to the durasteel floor, all Sey'les could see through the smoke and steam was a dim red glow from emergency lights. Soon, her lenses fogged too much for even that to be visible.
Sey'les remembered F'laro, almost a year ago, screaming as he burst into flames. She was unable to do anything. Now, she was alone and there was no Wulf to save her. No one. Closing her eyes tightly, she took a deep breath.
Huh. I'm not alone, Sey'les realised. She stopped squirming in pain and lay on her back, panting. She felt like she was going to vomit but was suddenly able to perceive her surroundings again. She could sense the crouched outlines of Trajan and Nebhir, passing a faint object between them. Reaching out to Nebhir, Sey'les felt the half-Squibs snout open, her lungs expand, then contract. She's breathing… Trajan and Nebhir are sharing air… They're alive. Wait… I can't see.
She opened her eyes. The dim red glow once again sent her into a panic. Closing them tightly, her calm returned. I can see… But not with my eyes.
"SEY'LES!" Wulf's voice screamed from the comm inside of her transpirator. "Please respond! Sey'les—"
"—Muun Leader here," Sey'les panted breathlessly. "I'm in. I found Trajan and Nebhir… Hold position." When she closed her eyes and focused on her surroundings, she realised that, unlike the inferno she had experienced on Antar 4, the temperature on the bridge was just hot and not lethal—At least not yet lethal.
Her danger sense now had less of an edge to it. I can do this.
She stepped confidently across the room, eyes closed, yet continuing to perceive the feint outline of the objects in the room in front of her. She stepped around a chair on her way to Nebhir and Trajan, both still crouching by the helm, sharing an oxygen mask.
"Don't worry," Sey'les growled, reaching under the half-Squib's armpits, pulling her to her feet. "I gotcha."
"Take my air, Nebhir," Trajan gasped, brandishing it at Sey'les.
"It's connected to the wall," Sey'les yelled over the ringing of the fire alarm. "Keep it, I'll be back for you after I get Nebhir out."
Sey'les sensed Trajan's head nod in agreement.
Nebhir began coughing and gasping for breath as Sey'les carried her across the room towards the shattered window.
Even though Nebhir was taller than Sey'les, the much more muscular Bothan found the half-Squib lanky and easy to carry. Easier than my packed rucksack. As she approached the shattered transparisteel, Sey'les grabbed Nebhir's hip with one hand and the small of her back with her other, hoisting her up without so much as a groan.
Sey'les stepped towards the window, yelping "I have Nebhir, Wulf? Wulf where are—Oh."
Wulf reached through the smoke, now wearing a transpirator himself. He grabbed Nebhir from Sey'les's arms, pulling her into the transport.
"All right, getting Trajan!" Sey'les yelled, stepping back towards the smoke.
"Sey'les!" Itoll's voice yelped into the built-in comm of her transpirator. "When we blew the bridge, we cut off some friendly's escape from the spaceport. We'll—"
"—Let's pick them up after this, over," Sey'les growled, interrupting Itoll as she walked across the room with her eyes closed. Trajan was exactly where she left him, breathing through his oxygen mask.
As she hoisted up the much heavier human with a groan, now pondering to herself about sensing shapes. Reaching out to the human, she could feel the outline of Trajan's lungs and diaphragm, much bigger than Nebhir's, spasming as he gasped for another breath of air—struggling to survive.
Sey'les mused to herself as she dragged the human across the floor towards the window. This is kinda like SONAR. Or laser guidance. Yeah, just like laser guidance. I can't see it with my eyes, but I can see it when I… Focus on it.
"I got Trajan!" Sey'les yelped, shoving the human up to the window. Trajan sagged, torso leaning forwards into the abyss until Wulf grabbed him with four arms, heaving the human up to the transport.
Danger sense completely gone, Sey'les's hot pink fur calmed and poofing gently to its normal level of shagginess. She turned around, sensing the shape of the bridge, recalling her fond memories spending time on the floor with Wulf right over there, of flying in hyperspace for the first time at that station, of—
"—SEY'LES!" Wulf screamed. "HOLY SHASSA! Itoll, I am going in, Fojo, you're on the prisoner!"
"Calm down, calm down!" Sey'les growled, stepping up to the window. She calmly extended her leg over chasm between the windowsill of the Avaracious Snaltowg and the interceptor, then took a step inside as Wulf grabbed her by the arm.
"We have her!" Fojo screamed, leaning towards the cockpit. The interceptor lurched to the right as Itoll steered away from the burning wreckage. The smoke soon cleared as the cold wintry air blew in from outside.
Nebhir and Trajan were sitting in jump seats holding oxygen masks to their faces as they coughed. Once the smoke cleared from the interceptor's interior, Wulf pulled the transpirator from Sey'les's face and Fojo squished an oxygen mask onto the end of her snout.
After taking one breath of dry and highly oxygenated air, Sey'les turned her face, growling angrily as she swatted the mask away. "Hey, cut it out! I am okay!"
Wulf pulled his own transpirator off then swore aloud. "Kriffing hell Sey'les!"
Sey'les held up her hand, poking her fingers in the air as she counted. "I'm okay. Trajan is okay. Nebhir is okay." Which means we're all okay, and Tarkin won't be angry at me.
"My ship," Nebhir growled wheezily, ripping off her mask.
"We'll get you a new ship," Trajan croaked.
Ignoring them, Sey'les staggered back to the cockpit, dropping into the co-pilot's seat. She took a huge gulp of water from her canteen, then put the targeting helmet back on.
Itoll didn't ask the question, but Sey'les could sense he wanted to ask it.
"Yes, Lieutenant. I am fit to fly," she croaked unconvincingly, throat burning, unable to smell anything but smoke as the targeting helmet flopped around on her head.
In the darkness below, blue, green, and red blaster shots were flying back and forth between two crowds. One of the crowds obviously the Seppies, Sey'les reasoned, were backed by seven NR tanks, shining floodlights ahead at a crashed Nu-Class transport.
"Firing now," Sey'les spoke into her helmet comm in a smoky sore-throat croak, "Danger close!" Already pointing the targeting laser at a Separatist tank, Sey'les let loose a barrage of blasterfire, punching a hole in the armour plating on the side of the NR-N99. As that tank came to a stop, she shifted the laser to the left, hitting the tank behind it.
Against the cold black background, white hot droids were visible in her monochrome. She couldn't tell whether they were BX commando droids or regular battle droids, but either way, she opened fire, spraying them down into piles of sparkling ruin.
The NR tanks shifted their focus from the downed transport on the ground and fired up at Sey'les.
"Taking fire!" Itoll yelped, steering the interceptor to the right, then backing off. Blasts impacted the shields, flashing white against the background, making it difficult to see anything.
Sey'les fired back blindly on instinct, continuing to fire down at the tanks, which were now rolling forwards chasing Team Muun's interceptor as it backed away.
When the firing stopped, all five pursuing NR tanks were ablaze, burning white hot on the snow.
"We're clear!" Sey'les yipped excitedly, then hacked, clearing her throat as a blob of mucus got caught in it. She took another swig of water from her canteen, coughing as Itoll set the interceptor down.
Sey'les tried reaching out to the beings down below but felt exhausted. "Will there be enough room?" she growled to the back.
"Uh…" Fojo said uneasily.
"It's gonna be a tight fit. Help me move this kriff-head," Wulf grunted, grabbing the end of Shiptar's stretcher. With a heave, Fojo helped, pushing the stretcher along to the very back of the interceptor.
Sey'les got up from her seat, staggering to the cabin. "All right everyone," she croaked gazing to the crowd of nine humans wearing white snow-patterned uniforms and cold weather helmets. Two of them were holding a stretcher, which she scowled at as she noticed a lanky Ardennian. "Durant? Is that you?"
"Sey'les again?" Rio asked incredulously.
Huh. That Nu-Class… Rio got shot down. "All right, everyone aboard," Sey'les growled, clearing her throat with a cough. "Put the injured in the back, Wulf, keep an extra close eye on Shiptar!"
"Yes ma'am," Wulf grunted, extending two hands to help pull Rio Durant's stretcher up.
o.o.o.o.o
"Permission denied?!" Sey'les yelped incredulously. "We have an EXTREMELY dangerous prisoner sedated in the back—"
"—Denied," a Squib voice squeaked angrily from the radio console. "Landing permission at the Red Sigil Hospital denied. That prisoner has already injured four of my men, takes resources we don't have… Permission denied."
Their LAAT/le interceptor now hovered in place over Prosstäd, floating in front of the Red Sigil hospital. In every direction overhead, the bombardment of the shields continued.
Sey'les opened her snout to argue, but this time all that came out was a wheezing whisper. Kriff it! My voice died. "Itoll," she hissed, "you tell him."
"We have wounded," Itoll spoke cautiously, leaning forward to the radio. "You can't just have us sit here."
A familiar Bothan voice, the voice of Nebhir's father, growled onto the radio. "Drop off the wounded on the rooftop but take Shiptar Moronvrak with you."
Sey'les's ears perked up. In the corner of her display, a red light was flashing. Yanking her helmet off, she looked at the terminal in front of her. On the display seven radar signatures—Hyena-class bombers. How? "I am picking up bombers."
"Shtak," Itoll snarled, switching to the Serwald defense channel. "Muun One to any all forces, we are picking up Hyena-class bombers just four clicks outside of Prosstäd, coming in fast."
Panicked squeaks, human yells, and angry calls for radio discipline emanated from the terminal.
Cutting over all of the chatter, a Squib voice yelped. "ALL FIGHTERS, CONVERGE ON THE SHIELD GENERATOR!"
"Let's get out of the air," Trajan croaked. "We can take Shiptar and everyone to my place."
"Your place?" Itoll asked, ears perked up.
"Yes, I have a penthouse at the top of a lovely high rise just six clicks… Here," he groaned, standing to his feet. He walked to the cockpit, standing behind Itoll and Sey'les as he entered the address into the navcomputer.
"Red Sigil Hosptital," Itoll growled, "be advised, we are bugging out and landing somewhere else."
"Understood," Daymask spoke, sighing audibly in relief. "Nebhir is all right, right?"
"LET ME THROUGH!" Nebhir yelped, pushing her way angrily through the crowd of rescued Sons and Daughters of Freedom troopers as she stormed into the interceptor's cockpit.
"She's fine," Sey'les growled in pained croak, terminating the line.
"What the hell?" Nebhir snarled.
"We don't have time for this," Itoll sighed, hitting the navigate button on the terminal. He turned the interceptor, following the suggested route on the map.
"Sit down, please," Sey'les croaked pleadingly to Nebhir and Trajan as she put her targeting helmet back on.
"Very well," Trajan muttered, gently beckoning Nebhir back to the rear compartment.
Sey'les locked her jaw, fur twitching stiffly. Something felt perilous again, but not quite the same way. Danger, but not for my team, she thought, scanning the horizon through her monochrome vision.
"That's weird," Itoll muttered, tapping the side of the console. "The Vulture droids… They're—"
"—Shtak!" Sey'les gasped in sudden realisation as she looked at the display. The bombers had split into two groups, one group of five was heading right for them, the other was—She croaked two words urgently. "The hospital."
"Kriff, you're right," Itoll growled, turning the radio back on. "Muun One to all forces, the bombers are targeting the Red Sigil Hospital. I say again, they are not after the shields."
"We'll never make it to Trajan's apartment in time," Sey'les whispered, running her furry finger over the five targets closing in on them. "TURN US AROUND!" she yelped in a raspy voice, then began coughing violently.
With a nervous groan, Itoll turned the ship, hooking around the nearest skyscraper. "They have a target lock on us! Evading!"
Several of the passengers in the back yelled in alarm as the interceptor took a nosedive. Metallic thuds echoed through the interceptor as humans, Rodians, Ardennians, and Shistavanens bounced off the interior walls, wailing and screaming.
Sey'les gripped the targeting control, ready to fire once Itoll turned the ship around.
A torpedo sailed past the LAAT/le, blasting into the permacrete below as Itoll pulled up. "Ma'am," he said with a strain from the g-force, "centre button, top of the stick."
Sey'les slid her two hands up the stick and felt a button on the top. Once she pressed it, she gasped. The helmet view changed from a monochrome projection of the targets ahead of her, to a view of what was behind the interceptor.
Four Hyena-class bombers were in tight pursuit, flying over the road as they gave chase. The interceptor shook violently as shots from the bombers began impacting the shield.
Tightening her grip on the trigger, Sey'les let loose a barrage of laserfire from the LAAT/le's rear turret, hitting the lead pair of bombers. The nearest bomber exploded, while the next-closest Hyena-class bomber took a shot directly between the fuselage and its right wing. With one of its wings gone, the bomber slammed into the permacrete, bursting into flames as it cartwheeled across the ground before finally erupting into an immense fireball.
Decelerating rapidly, the sheered-off wing flew through the sky, crashing into the bomber immediately behind it, slicing through the centre of its chasis.
The remaining bomber fired another torpedo, then decelerated to increase the distance between it and the interceptor.
Seeing this, Sey'les's pressed her thumb down hard on the tail gun's firing stub, letting off a constant stream of fire at the Seperatist bomber. She groaned softly as her fur went flat in fear. The torpedo was drawing nearer and nearer.
A sudden involuntary twitch of the hand corrected her aim, sending a stray shot into the proton warhead. The resulting explosion both blinded her and rocked the gunship so hard her helmet was almost flung off her head.
Several beings in the back screamed in terror.
All Sey'les could see through the interceptor's rear camera was big red Aurebesh letters spelling"ERROR." She stared helplessly ahead with her snout open in shock. What do I do now?! I can't see!
"Invert!" Itoll yelped. "Forward view! Hit the button again!"
Straightening her helmet with one hand, Sey'les pressed the centre button on her weapon control stick with her free hand. Her danger sense was pulsing, telling her there was something directly overhead. "It's too high for me to hit!" Sey'les groaned, pulling the stick back as hard as she could.
"Hold onto something! It's gonna be rough!" Itoll yelped, pulling as hard as he could on his steering stick. The interceptor pitched straight up, then flipped upside down.
Every passenger in the back who was not strapped into a jump seat fell onto the ceiling. The hospital stretchers bounced around violently, whomping onto the roof with plastic thuds.
Sey'les grimaced, sensing Wulf's pain as the corner of Rio Durant's stretcher nailed him in the eye, but suddenly she had something new to worry about. Her targeting assist helmet flew off her head, sailing into the transparisteel overhead. She reached up to grab it—
"NO!" Itoll yelped, "FIRE!"
Looking straight ahead with her naked eyes, she could see a Hyena-class bomber directly in front of them. It was banking hard to try and get around for another attack.
Grabbing hold of the forward gun controls, Sey'les centred the cockpit targeting reticule on at the ordnance pod bulb on the underside and fired.
The bomber's continued movement saved it from instant destruction as the shots fell just behind where Sey'les had aimed. They instead tore through the left side of its fuselage. A bright orange plume of fire erupted from the port engine a second later as something exploded. Trailing smoke and flame, the Hyena careened out of the sky, momentum dragging the doomed craft to the right and out of view.
The Bothans did not need to look up to see the bomber was falling from the sky, but Itoll and Sey'les did anyways. Staring up to the ground from their upside-down perspective, their colourful irises were illuminated with the reflection of an orange explosion. The bomber nailed a line of snowy trees, scattering fire and debris across a snowy park.
"Nice flying," Sey'les croaked, looking up at her helmet sitting rolling around atop the cockpit window.
"Thanks. Nice shooting," Itoll panted. "Flipping us back over, slowly. Are you ready?"
Sey'les opened her snout to say yes but realised from the murmurs and pained groans of the passengers behind her, that he was talking to them.
"It's a transport, not a snub fighter you blasted idiot!" Rio yelled angrily, bound to his stretcher. "You don't flip transports!"
Itoll winced, fur swirling guiltily at the havoc in the rear.
Still sitting upside down, Sey'les turned and looked over her shoulder. Everyone except Nebhir and Trajan had been thrown into the ceiling. All of the gear that wasn't secure had fallen and busted open. Several of the humans had bloodied noses from either smashing into the ceiling face first, or from having had an item slam into them.
"We gotta flip it," Sey'les croaked, feeling increasingly dizzy. "The blood's rushing to my ears."
"Hold—Kriffing hold the stretcher!" Wulf screamed angrily to one of the humans, yanking Shiptar's stretcher up by the head. The human complied, picking the stretcher up by the feet.
"All right, rotating us…" Itoll growled.
Slowly, like the slowest-spinning cog in the universe, the transport flipped. After about a minute, Sey'les's helmet rolled off the cockpit window, bouncing off the dashboard into her lap.
"The hospital," Sey'les whispered, remembering the other target.
"Shtak," Itoll gasped, turning the interceptor around slowly. "We are in absolutely no shape to respond to that Sey'les. Rear turret gone, shields gone, we have passengers, a POW, injured—"
"—Agreed," Trajan croaked from the rear, holding a handkerchief to his bloody nose.
"Yeah," Sey'les agreed with a despondent sigh. "Take us back on course to Trajan's apartment."
As Itoll turned the ship, Sey'les leaned in, whispering quietly. "They were trying to kill Shiptar. No other reason to attack us and target the hospital, but not the shields. How five of those things even got in—"
"—Five?" Nebhir growled, ears perked up.
Sey'les scowled, narrowing her eyes as she stared at the half-Squib.
"Oh—It's just—Well, you're an ace now," Nebhir stammered.
"Rogue," Sey'les croaked, smiling brightly. Her fur danced with excitement. "Did you hear that Rio?" she spoke as loudly as she could, wincing from the pain in her throat.
"Yeah," Rio sighed exasperatedly from his stretcher. "You know Sey'les, if you attain ace-hood while co-piloting a kriffing transport, it means you are doing it wrong! Both of you! Would you say that was good flying?"
The Sons and Daughters of Freedom began muttering angrily to each other. One, a bald human male with a bloody nose and an eyepatch yelled "kriff no!"
"Asshole," Sey'les grunted to herself, staring out the cockpit window. Even in a stretcher, Rio Durant has such a punchable face!
o.o.o.o.o
Guided by the Navcomputer, Itoll set the interceptor down on top of an apartment complex landing pad.
As she helped the passengers off the transport, Sey'les felt exhausted and numb, yet increasingly uneasy. Explosions thundered in the distance as torpedos rained onto the Prosstäd central business district, brightening the dark cityscape.
After helping Itoll enshroud their damaged interceptor in a tarp, Sey'les followed Trajan and Nebhir inside. They bickered as they showed the Sons and Daughters of Freedom the way to the communications centre on the penthouse's third level.
"What are you going to do? Buy me a new father too?" Nebhir snarled, tears in her eyes.
"I am sure he evacuated," Trajan said reassuringly as they walked down the hall. Another explosion thundered in the distance, rattling the interior of Trajan's apartment.
Sey'les yawned tiredly as she stepped into the communications centre. It was state of the art, with dozens of terminals connected to radar, deep-space scanners, the status of the city shields, and a long executive desk located beneath a huge main-viewer.
Asking how or why he owns this apartment did not even occur to her.
"I am pulling my operations out of this system until things settle down," Trajan explained, leading Sey'les and four humans around the room. "The Sons and Daughters of Freedom can use this space in the interim."
"Trajan?" Sey'les whispered. "My voice is dead, and I don't know why I am here and not with the rest of my team. I don't know why—"
"—Oh Captain! I forgot you were there," Trajan chortled.
The floor trembled ominously as another explosion roared in the distance. Dust rained down from the vents onto Sey'les's fur.
This is just… Ridiculous. "Trajan," she whispered, "I don't think this is a very secure position."
"Not a secure position?" Trajan mumbled in a somewhat nasally voice, his nose now in a white splint which Fojo had recently put on. "Sey'les, the entire autonomous community of Serwald is being bombarded thanks to you and Nebhir's bone-headed decision to come here, after your equally bone-headed decision to blow up the Techno Union tower."
Sey'les's fur twitched with guilt. Her ears folded back slightly.
But Trajan wasn't done. His voice elevated and by the end of his rant, he was shouting. "There is a layer of incendiary chemicals burning overhead. If the shield fails, everything on the surface will burn away. Submersible Separatist vehicles—Including spacecraft, as you saw, are breaching the shields. It's something of a miracle that you pulled us off the bridge—this—This entire week has been nothing but a mess. A complete disaster for my business! The Squib lives lost! For what Sey'les? A single infected Clone? A new kriff-buddy for Itoll? Some kriffing waste of space Separatist general! Do you think we are really going to get any intel whatsoever from Shiptar?! DO YOU?! ANSWER THE QUESTION!"
Startled, Sey'les blinked in shock as she regarded the criminal mastermind. She had never seen him angry. Trajan hadn't even yelled at her when she and Wulf beat the shtak out of him. "I think," she gulped nervously. "That we all just need some space and time to process this."
"I couldn't agree more," Trajan panted. "Why don't you go sort out Team Muun, make sure everyone's okay, that Shiptar is secure—Really actually secure. In the meantime," he added, licking his chapped lips. "I want you to trust the adults in the room to handle the logistics of this battle. To keep everyone alive until Armand Isard, whose actions have been even more baffling than your own, by the way—Till Director Isard extracts us and liberates the planet."
With a grunt, Sey'les turned around, fuming as she stormed out of the room. Kriff this. Why is some spice lord's financial position in any way my concern? Trajan has yet to hold up his end of the bargain anyways.