Chapter 7: Raskyer Vri'skar
Kothlis
The interrogations over Naboo had been the worst time in the old Bothan's life, at least since arriving Thellus as a refugee twenty-five years ago, along with her parents and cousins. When she was younger, before she became a ship's doctor, Raskyer worked in one of Thellus's hospitals in a rougher district. She often had to file incident reports after altercations between patients and staff. It was her least favourite part of the job.
Over Naboo, her life had been nothing but one long repetitive incident report, being pulled out of her in every possible way. Now that she was on Kothlis however, the interrogations were different. Friendlier, less monotonous, but far more ominous. Ominous, that's a good way to think of it, Raskyer thought to herself.
Across the interview table from two sweet-smelling Kothlis scientists, Raskyer's cream-coloured fur swirled nervously. The Kothlis interviewers were far nicer than the humans had been, but they continued to ask and say things that worried Raskyer deeply. Things that shocked her conscience. Things like—
"—Nokiz ko li ravo rasa yag tona ko korn welomat!" [—I don't want to find out how to make a cure!] Kalan Fey'val scoffed impatiently.
[We already know that a temperature higher than 40º C kills it,] Heshask Sy'fon growled consolingly. His calm red fur betraying no sign of worry.
Raskyer's fur now swirled with suspicion.
Kalan's fur began swirling nervously. [Perhaps our interview has exhausted its usefulness?] he growled.
[There is some information that… Well, yes, I agree,] Heshask said uncertainly. [Thank you very much for your time Dr Raskyer.]
[Have a fantastic afternoon!] Kalan blurted out with enthusiasm.
Raskyer scowled, snarling [thank you.]
o-o-o
Raskyer's fur now twirled unhappily as she was escorted to the exit of the Tal'cara Spynet Headquarters. Zerir was waiting in the lobby.
"All esh in order?" Zerir growled nervously once Raskyer was allowed past the security checkpoint.
"Captain, I'll talk about it once we're out of here," Raskyer growled cautiously. A few of the security guard's ears were perked up. There were also security cameras visible on the ceiling.
"Well, I am glad they only wanted to interview us and not the whole crew," Zerir muttered. "Ben sounded like he might lose it."
The automatic door opened to the bright blue sky and fresher than fresh air. A slight tinge of pollution from the cityscape as well as the smell of the ocean were the only impurities. The secret to Kothlis Bothan longevity and the reason for such a strict visa policy—1.5% higher atmospheric oxygen concentration.
Zerir's fur fell flat and Raskyer's swirled nervously they walked under a giant spider web spanning two streetlights.
In addition to increasing Bothan longevity, the higher oxygen content allowed for very large insects and arachnids. Some Kothlis tarantulas were bigger than two Askar dinner plates.
Once they crossed under the tarantula, Zerir's fur relaxed.
"Rąsą khų yągh rąvų zhųl zhąrn bhiųwęphųn." [I think they want to make a bioweapon,] Raskyer growled, breaking the silence.
"Bakit?" [Why?] Zerir asked in alarm.
[Their questions were all about the infection,] Raskyer sighed wearily. [Nothing about the events that happened. As if they couldn't be more obvious, they also explicitly stated that they weren't interesting in curing it.]
[Not very discreet,] Zerir agreed.
[You aren't bothered by this?!] Raskyer snarled.
Zerir paused for a moment. She spoke calmly, [just because Kothlis builds a bioweapon, doesn't mean they will use it, does it?]
[No, but it is still dangerous.]
As the two walked on, the streets gave way to boardwalk and the smell of the ocean became more intense. A bright ultraviolet hue reflected off the water with dark distortions here and there—distortions under which sat fish, seaweed, or—
—Out of the centre of one of the bits of ultraviolet shade, popped a snorkelling Bothan child. She spewed water out of the top of her snorkel, coughing at the saltiness.
Raskyer smirked.
"Hey Captain! Hey doc!" Zhol said brightly, emerging from behind the two holding an icy Kothtri.
"Interrogations all over?" Ben growled.
Raskyer and Zerir turned around to face the two.
"Kiz," Zerir answered with a smile. "No more questioning."
o-o-o
In a beachside cantina, seven Askars were celebrating the end to their ordeal.
"Ravo ko li won drugisk tubig." [I would like a second water], Raskyer growled politely.
The waiter scowled at the doctor, pouring another complementary water.
[Thank you,] Raskyer growled gruffly, taking a sip.
The other Askars at the table, Zerir, Zoc, Zhol, Eshka, Hagin and Ben ranged from being mildly inebriated to nearly falling out of their chairs. All had gone through multiple glasses of fruity tropical Kothlis beverages mixed with alcohol. Zoc still wore a cast.
No one was angry at Azi'skar's son anymore for the Bursa incident. At the time, Raskyer had been livid but after being tortured, witnessing murder, and the genocide of an entire moon, it really didn't matter. The Gungans who were upset died. The Bursas died.
[Here's to never having to set foot on Ohma-D'un again!] Eshka yipped.
[Hear hear,] Zoc shouted.
Everyone banged their glasses on Eshka's, Raskyer awkwardly doing so with a cup of water.
[What's the matter Raskyer?] Zerir asked worriedly. [You haven't gotten any drinks. I said they were on me. Still have our Clan Afon bonus, yeah?]
[Nothing,] Raskyer growled glumly. [I just don't feel like letting my guard down. We're safe now, but who knows what's happening on the other side of the airlock?] Ominous. This whole thing just feels ominous.
