Chapter 4: Itoll Oc
In Orbit of MGX-937
Beyond the Polycaste's hangar forcefield, an armada of Republic and Separatist ships were firing at each other in the largest fleet engagement Itoll had ever seen.
The Bothan's fur swirled nervously as he looked at the battle unfolding. Off in the distance, a Venator exploded, three Artiquens-class cruisers drifted forwards to fill the gap in the line. They all came under heavy fire—
"—Ensign," Ekos snapped, "come on!" He beckoned from the ramp leading onto an unusual corvette.
Nothing makes you care even less about your job than being ordered around by a fourteen-year-old, Itoll thought with a scowl. He continued gazing at the parked ship, ignoring the child.
The corvette he was being asked to board was long and thin, roughly a hundred meters long. Its pointy cockpit, which was wider than the rest of the cylindrical hull, was painted red and grey. Along the hull, jutting out, were dozens of golden pegs; their function the Bothan could not even begin to guess. The ship—
"—Itoll!" Fojo yelled. "Kriff! You are beginning to annoy the hell out of me too! Get your daydreaming under control."
Itoll's gaze returned to the ramp. His fur swirling with embarrassment, he walked up.
"You were looking awfully hard at the ship," Ekos muttered accusingly once Itoll stepped inside.
"Is that not allowed, sir?" Itoll asked the Padawan frankly.
Ekos scoffed, turned around, and walked onto the bridge, joining the HAIT Troopers.
o-o-o
"What are you doing!" Itoll yelped to the pilot. His fur pressed tightly to his body in fear.
Fojo gripped the edges of his. "You are flying too close—"
"—It's fine," the Clone pilot said gruffly.
The unusual, pointy, cylindrical corvette flew within ten meters of a Lucrehulk's surface, flying so close it cast a shadow against the bright hull.
"Why aren't they shooting us?!" Itoll growled in amazement.
"I knew it was a mistake bringing a Bothan," Ekos muttered bitterly, folding his robed arms. "That is need to know."
"ETA twenty minutes," the co-pilot said.
"Good." Hopper unbuckled from his seat. "Everyone! Suit up."
o-o-o
It turned out Hopper was being literal when he said the Clones were bringing them down with him. After Itoll dressed in an EVA suit with a snouted helmet, Sergeant Pebbles walked behind the Bothan, reached around his suit, and connected their suits with a magnetic cable.
"Take these," Pebbles muttered gruffly into the comm, handing Itoll a box of energy packs hooked to a carabiner.
Itoll hooked the energy packs onto the front of his suit. "You've been in space before Sergeant? Right?"
Hopper had hooked himself to Ekos and Phil had connected himself to Fojo.
"Yep," Pebbles said reassuringly. "This is our first real jump though, sir, so it might be a bit sloppy."
Itoll's fur swirled as he chuckled nervously. Might be a bit sloppy. We are falling from kriffing space.
"Hey Itoll," Fojo's voice came through on the private channel.
"What's happening?" Itoll asked.
"You seem a bit nervous. Just wanted to make sure you are okay."
"I think," Itoll sighed. "I think I'll be fine. How about you?"
"This is really crazy," Fojo muttered. "I can't stop thinking about this ship we are in. It obviously has some sort of stealth tech or jamming tech. We flew right past the Separatists."
"Something secret," Itoll agreed. He began checking the joints of his suit and his air levels. "It bugs me that they trust me enough to bring me on a planetary jump, but then won't even tell me what ship I am on."
"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Fojo interjected. "They probably don't want to tell me either."
"Yeah, but you're not a Bothan," Itoll growled. "You are only not being told because you are with me."
"I got demoted for selling meds from my kit… Remember?"
"Oh yeah," Itoll growled with an optimistic toothy grin. Somehow, this fact made him feel better. They don't trust either of us.
"Listen up, that includes you Ensign Itoll," Hopper barked into the team channel with the Padawan clipped awkwardly onto his front. "As planned, we are hitting the surface at 0236 local time. It will be dark. The rainstorm should hide any heat signatures from the Separatist scanners. Have we done our safety checks?"
"Yes sir," Itoll answered half a second before everyone else.
"Good. Prepare for jump."
o-o-o
Itoll tilted his head up as he and Pebbles propelled through space. All above him, the space battle continued raging. Droid fighters and Republic fighters were now caught up in heated engagements alongside the capital ships. Flashes were going off here and there every few seconds as the fighters or torpedoes exploded.
"Hey Itoll, look in your mirror," Fojo said breathlessly.
Itoll held out his wrist and looked in the mirror.
The light from inside the airlock they had exited from was visible but nothing else was. It was like a lighted portal shining out of another dimension. The cylindrical pointy corvette they had boarded was completely invisible.
"Whoa…" Itoll groaned in amazement.
"Ensigns," Ekos's voice barked onto the channel. "Cage your eyes forward!"
"Shyrii oh shyriiwook." [Speak Shyriiwook,] Itoll growled to Fojo.
[Why?] Fojo asked back.
[When Jazal mind-probed me, she—]
[—Jazal mind-probed you!?] Fojo exclaimed in horror
[It's not like that,] Itoll growled cautiously. [I mind probed her back,] he paused, wondering how to phrase this. [When Jazal could read my thoughts—let's just put it like that, when she could read my thoughts and memories, she couldn't understand the Bothese ones.]
Fojo gave a neutral Shyriiwook grunt. [That's actually kind of surprising. You think Ekos is reading our thoughts to hear our conversation through space?]
[Maybe,] Itoll growled with uncertainty.
o-o-o
"HOLY SHTAK!" Itoll yelped onto the team channel. All over his body, his fur was completely flat.
As they entered the atmosphere, they began accelerating faster and faster through the darkness. The readout on his wrist already showed a speed of 1,100 km/h and increasing. In a panic, the Bothan began reaching for the emergency chute—
"—Don't you dare Ensign!" Sergeant Pebbles yelled angrily, pulling Itoll's hand off the cord. "Don't you dare touch my chute!"
Itoll closed his hands into fists to avoid doing anything stupid and continued screaming.
"Ensign, relax," Ekos said with a calm Jedi trenquility.
Fojo cackled madly.
"FOUR MINUTES TILL CHUTE DEPLOYMENT!" Hopper yelled into the channel.
Forty-one seconds later, the falling Republic soldiers reached a terminal velocity of over 1,300 km/h.
Ten seconds later, Itoll stopped screaming and began panting heavily. "Holy shtak," he croaked. "We just keep falling."
"Only three more minutes, sir," Pebbles said reassuringly. "Then only five minutes of arrested freefall before landing. Just like the simulator."
Itoll groaned.
"This isn't as bad as I thought it would be!" Fojo chuckled with a show-off tone.
o-o-o
A few minutes later, the Republic troopers landed hard on the night-time savannah. Itoll fell over sideways under the weight of the energy packs and his space suit, dragging Pebbles down with him into the tall grass.
Pebbles groaned angrily, unhooking himself from the Bothan. Itoll laid on the ground for a moment, staring up as a light sprinkle of raindrops hit his visor.
"All right everyone!" Hopper yelled into the comm. "If we don't get assistance, we are going to have to leave our spacesuits behind. Everyone, gear up for ground assault."
"Let's get to it!" Ekos yelled unhelpfully in a shrill voice.
Itoll sniffed the air curiously as he removed his helmet. Everywhere was a strong smell of grass.
Fojo began speaking in Shyriiwook the moment his helmet came off. [Can you think of any positives to Ekos?]
As Itoll began removing his boots, he muttered wryly, [he's a Rodian, like you.]
"Ha ha," Fojo whispered sarcastically in Basic, as he neatly stacked the components for his space suit.
[Also, Ekos is coloured tasty,] Itoll growled thoughtfully.
[WHAT?!] Fojo roared in Shyriiwook.
"Keep it down," Hopper whispered harshly.
"Sorry sir," Fojo whispered.
[Ekos looks like he would make a tasty meal,] Itoll whispered as he started putting on his dark-green combat vest. [I don't mean it like… literally, like I would eat him. I just mean he looks tasty. He is tasty-coloured if that makes sense. Many tasty things are purple, you know?]
"What the kriff are you two doing? We are on a stealth ops! You are officers of the Galactic Republic! Get your acts together," Ekos whispered sternly. "We are deep behind enemy lines."
"Itoll was just saying that you look like you would taste good, sir," Fojo guffawed, nearly doubling over with laughter.
Ekos gasped and ignited his blue lightsaber.
"I am sorry sir!" Itoll stammered. "I didn't mean it—It's just you are purple and AHHH!" the Bothan yelped in terror as the fourteen-year-old Padawan charged him. Shtak! No pot of boiling carrots this time!
"What did you mean?!" Ekos yelled walking closer. He brandished his blade centimetres in front of Itoll's snout. "BOTHAN! EXPLAIN YOURSELF NOW!"
"HOLY SHASSA!" Fojo yelled. "Ekos stand down! Itoll was just fooling around!"
Itoll fell to his knees. His fur fell flat. "I am sorry Commander! You are just purple. Purple things look tasty," he continued stammering. He felt an unseen presence reaching out to him, tugging on his tight fur pressed flatly into his body. The heat of the lightsaber began to hurt his nose.
"COMMANDER!" Hopper yelled. "STAND DOWN!"
The Clones began screaming and shouting. Pebbles swore under his breath.
Ekos continued standing over the kneeling Bothan, lightsaber in his right hand, brandishing three fingers in Itoll's direction with his left hand.
"He didn't mean it sir!" Fojo yelled again. "Don't hurt him! Please sir, he really didn't mean it!"
"Please Commander, I really won't hurt you. I promise. I didn't mean it," Itoll pleaded.
Five seconds of nervous silence later, Ekos retracted his blade, suddenly content with the veracity of the Bothan's promise. "Stand up Ensign," he grunted.
Itoll stood at attention.
Ekos picked Itoll's green helmet off the ground and shoved it into his chest. "Gear up. I don't want to hear another word of Shyriiwook until we make contact with the locals. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir," Itoll answered, regaining his military bearing for the first time since being put under Sey'les's command.
Without saying another word, Ekos walked back towards his own pile of spacesuit components. Hopper and the Clones stared at Itoll incredulously. Pebbles looked mildly impressed with Ekos.
Itoll's fur remained flat for ten more seconds as he changed into the rest of his combat gear. As the shock from being nearly killed wore off, a new shock from being reprimanded by a child took its place. The Bothan could not remember ever having been so embarrassed in his life.
Fojo finally piped up. "Sorry. Itoll I—"
"—Don't even talk to me," Itoll snarled. "That was kriffed."
"You're both kriffed," Ekos muttered. "Pebbles? Phil?"
"Yes sir," both of the Clones answered.
"Pebbles, you are going to be Itoll's battle buddy for the duration of this op. Phil, you are going to be Fojo's. I don't want either of the Ensigns near each other until we reach the operating base."
"Understood sir," Pebbles answered sternly.
"Itoll? Fojo?" Ekos asked in a shrill whine.
"Yes sir?" Itoll growled nervously and Fojo muttered angrily.
"Any more misconduct and you will be spending the duration of this mission in the brig. Your behaviour is putting us all at risk. I—" the Padawan stopped talking once his voice cracked.
"I am sorry sir," Itoll said. "It won't happen again."
o-o-o
The group cautiously walked through the darkness, trampling through the tall grass. Itoll's nightvision goggles bounced awkwardly on his snout, giving him a sore spot.
After forty minutes of walking in the silence, Itoll began to smell Wookiees. He walked faster, catching up to Ekos.
"Where are you going?" Pebbles whispered harshly.
"I smell Wookiees," Itoll whispered back. "Telling Ekos."
The Padawan stopped and held out a fist. The whole group stopped.
"I smell Wookiees," Itoll growled optimistically.
"I sense them too," Ekos muttered. "These ones don't want to be found. I sense they are not the Wookiees we are looking for. We best keep walking."
"But sir," Fojo whispered in a pant. "We have been walking for hours. Surely some Wookiees could help us with our gear."
"It's been forty-two minutes," Ekos whispered with an angry glare in Fojo's direction. "Do any of you need help carrying your gear?"
"No sir," Itoll and the Clones chanted in a whisper.
"Good," Ekos scoffed. "Itoll, carry Fojo's assault pack."
