Chapter 3: Vasa Ro'val

Aboard the Fensk, in Hyperspace

Vasa Ro'val, the Spynet operative in operational command of the Murkhana operation, had managed to send off two subspace transmissions to Atzerri in the last six hours. The first suggested that their next course of action should be the immediate utilisation of Brachia in the Murkhana operation. The second was an even more forcefully worded message suggesting the same thing and emphasising the failure of Trajan Kran due to "too many moving parts."

Content that the matter of the Murkhana operation was settled, the elderly Bothan's greying fur relaxed as her attention shifted to another matter. A matter she urgently needed to inform the Fensk's Captain about. "Major, we can't just publicly drop the princess off on Manaan."

Asir's right ear batted in annoyance. Major Kroy'lya's variegated cream and brown fur often twitched in annoyance whenever Vasa was near. It was painfully obvious she had little tolerance or trust in the elderly Spynet hack.

Bafflingly however, Asir was alone in a spare storage room, stirring the foul-smelling contents of a durasteel black cauldron. She looked up from the cauldron in front of her, removing her transpirator as she looked towards Vasa in the doorway. "I know this."

Unable to guess as to the identity of the substance in the cauldron, Vasa sniffed the air curiously as she stared into the storage room. Aside from the cauldron and heat source in the middle of the room, the only other contents were unlabelled steel cylinders.

"Can I help you ma'am?" Asir asked crossly, folding her arms.

"What are you doing?" Vasa snorted, fur letting off one derisively mirthful twitch.

"Handling Princess Kuril," Asir said with a frown, eyeing Vasa suspiciously.

"There are far more effective poisons than whatever you are concocting!" Vasa chuckled, laughing at the ridiculous-looking cauldron.

"We are not poisoning her!" Asir gasped in shock. "What the kriff is wrong with you? We just saved her to stop a diplomatic catastrophe."

"What the kriff is wrong with me?" Vasa snarled in affront. "I was going to suggest a memory wipe, because killing that princess could be construed as an act of war. What is it we are doing then?"

o.o.o.o.o

"You Bothans all look… Taller today," Kuril, the Selkath princess they had rescued, noted in a serene distant voice. Water dripped from the end of her snout onto the durasteel floor as she knelt on the ground in front of her makeshift water tank. Her quarters were filled with steam. "Especially you Arakh," she gasped, grabbing at the Defel's fur. "So much taller… Sexy even. At least when you are visible."

Vasa glanced at Asir wearing a devious smirk.

"Your highness," Arakh growled politely, reaching his lanky Defel arm up to his head and scratching it. "You are on your knees, which explains why we look taller. But thanks."

"Oh," Kuril gasped in surprise, looking around confused. Her strange vertical aquatic eyelids blinked.

Asir sighed, walking forward to help Kuril up. "Dasha ko likosh zharn knorisk-knorisk spays do za." ["Perhaps I gave her too much spice."]

["No,"] Vasa replied consolingly in Bothese, ["you gave her just enough."]

Kuril grasped Asir's hand as she stood up, curiously pinching the fur. "You're wet!"

"No Kuril, you're wet," Asir explained in a lecturing tone. "You are just getting water on me."

Arakh snorted with laughter.

The ship shuddered as it exited from hyperspace. "All right, I'm needed on the bridge. Arakh, you know what to do."

"Yes ma'am," Arakh growled stiffly.

"I'll help," Vasa said reassuringly.

"Thank you," Asir growled in a slightly sarcastic tone, before vacating the room. "Arakh, watch her," she grunted, right before she disappeared through the door frame.

"Where are we… What?" Kuril asked dreamily.

"We are in the Pyrshak System," Arakh explained professionally as he held his arm around hers, guiding her out of her room. "Watch your step."

Rather than watching her step, the Selkath stopped walking entirely and stared down at her bare feet. "Huh. They look so weird."

"Let's keep going," Vasa said gruffly, gripping her other arm.

"Pyrshak… I know that," Kuril noted.

"Yes, we are taking you to Navlaas Station 31."

"Navlaas station?" Kuril said, opening her eyes somewhat wider as they approached the airlock. "I thought you were taking me to Ahto City?"

"I am sure you can manage to get to Ahto City from here yourself, your Highness," Arakh growled. "Here are 200 Flans," he said, handing her a stack of jelly-like red plastoid coins.

"Oh yeah," Kuril nodded in agreement. "The shuttle from here just costs 80 Flans."

Outside the airlock window, a sparkly white space station loomed into view. From the uppermost deck, a bulbous transparisteel water tank was visible. When she squinted, Vasa could see a few Selkath figures looking back at the Fensk from the other side.

"What am I to do with 120 extra Flans?" Kuril asked worriedly, turning to the two canine sentients for advice.

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Vasa snorted, shaking her head disapprovingly.

Twenty seconds later, a metallic thud echoed through the hull as they docked.

The airlock door hissed open and Arakh yelped in terror. Vasa glared at the Defel.

"Sorry," he stammered. "I thought it was gonna flood! Whoa… Where's the water?"

"Oh silly," Kuril said dreamily, "this is a chamber. It's filled with atmosphere that like… Well… I don't know how it works," she admitted lamely, stepping inside. "But, invisible Bothan, if you ever come by this way again, I can show you around. And my gratitude."

Arakh opened his snout to say something, but Kuril leaned forward through the airlock, slamming her wide snout into his in a wet kiss.

Well, I did not expect that, Vasa thought with a tsk tsk tsk.

Arakh pulled away, sputtering and yelping. "I don't think Asir would be okay with that, your Majesty!"

"Oh, right," Kuril replied. Stepping backwards into the interior of the chamber, she tripped on a plastic tube, falling over onto her buttocks. The Selakath sat there for a moment, giggling stupidly. "Call me Kuril!" she yelled as the airlock door shut.

"WAIT!" Ilar Ren'lo yelped, her red and white fur flat in fear as she sprinted into the airlock.

Vasa swore aloud, moving to open the airlock.

"SHE FORGOT HER SHOES!" Ilar screamed at the top of her lungs, brandishing a pair of oddly-shaped orange boots. Where most boots would have a toe cap, the Selkath's boots instead had two gaping holes through which parts of their flippers would poke.

"You had me terrified," Vasa snarled, grabbing Ilar by the shoulders.

"S—Sorry ma'am," Ilar stammered.

"Give the boots to Arakh. He can give them to Kuril next time he's in the system," Vasa snorted. Mechanical noises clicked in the background as the ship decoupled from the airlock. "We need to focus on Murkhana, Ilar. Get your head out of the clouds. Enough royalty and princesses."

"Yes ma'am," Ilar sighed, handing Arakh the boots.

The Defel said a polite "thank you," then began sniffing them curiously.

Vasa scowled in disgust, turning to Ilar. "Have we heard back from Atzerri?"

"Not yet ma'am," Ilar reported.

"What if..." Arakh growled, his voice getting somewhat muffled and echoey as he stuck his snout against one of the flipper holes. "What if Kuril gets angry about the boots?"

"She won't remember any of this," Vasa snorted, looking out the airlock window to the Selkath station, now growing smaller and more distant. "And if she does, who would believe a story about being rescued by an invisible Bothan?"