Chapter 35: Fraedrak Saxon
Thellus Asteroid, Dressel System
Three Mandalorian police cruisers hovered away from New Aroo Maglev Station. 45º overhead, on the sphere's interior, the largest building in New Aroo, the Buli, jutted more towards the sphere's centre than the rest of the cityscape.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Fraedrak's fingers jittered as he switched the comm channel in the Mandalorian police cruiser. "This is Captain Fraedrak Saxon of the Mandalorian Consulate to whoever is the acting commander of the emergency response. This is a secure line. We have Grum Azi'skar. Does anyone read me?"
Incomprehensible Bothese yammering and snarls come through the comm from several voices.
"Let me talk," Tav stammered in the back seat. "I can—" his voice died as he began retching again.
Well… "All right Colonel, you can—"
"—This is Major Warosh Yu'trek. Admiral Gyar'trek is in charge, but she is not responding. What do you mean you have Grum Azi'skar? What are your demands?"
Fraedrak sighed despondently. "We have no demands. We—"
"—This is a cowardly act of war," Yu'trek snarled.
"You don't understand, Detective, we are rendering assistance," Fraedrak said in a raised voice. "We have rescued Grum Azi'skar and are Oscar Mike. Please hold your fire on any Mandalorian Protectors flying around New Aroo."
The police cruiser drove on down Circumference Street, following the curve of the sphere's interior from the station towards the Buli and the Marshalcy Field Office. Through the comm he heard more snarling and the word Gyar'trek.
"Be advised," he croaked, "Grum Gyar'trek is dead. Her body is at the intersection of Circumference Street and High Bisect, along with four other Naval personnel. I say again, Grum Gyar'trek is KIA." Under his helmet, tears formed in his eyes. He tried swallowing the sensation of utter failure, but it did not disappear.
Panicking yelps and arguing could be heard on the other end of the line.
Fraedrak tried rubbing his eyes but touched his helmet plate. Kriff this. He took it off and dropped on the floor in front of his seat, then rubbed his eyes. "Major, Colonel Tav Mi'zya is alive too but he is no state to decide—"
"—Grav'shtarn," Tav murmured wearily. "Liska Gyar'trek said Grav'shtarn but first, we need to get to the Field Office."
"All right," Fraedrak said into the comm. "We are—OPEN DOOR LEFT!" he yelled to the driver, pulling out his blaster.
A Gran in a purple cloak stepped out of the door on the first floor a building.
Phew, Fraedrak sighed in relief. "Never mind—"
"Captain Saxon?! Is everything okay? STATUS REPORT!" Warosh yelped into the comm.
"Saxon here, we are fine. Had an open door and it was nothing. We are ETA…?"
"Five minutes sir," whispered Sergeant Will Hurk, the driver.
"ETA five minutes to the Marshalcy Field Office," Fraedrak said. "Some of us are flying via jetpack. Please hold your fire."
o-o-o
Two Mandalorian police cruisers were now in the parking lot behind the fences of the Marshalcy Field Office. The third cruiser and ten of the Mandalorian Protectors had returned to the Consulate. Six Protectors stood in the parking lot, keeping an eye out on the sphere's interior.
Marshals came and went from the building wearing RIS armour, riot gear, or tactical outfits. They eyed the Mandalorian Protectors wearily.
In the Field Office's medical bay, the eight survivors sat or laid on beds: Tav Mi'zya, Nezir Mi'trek, Glazir, Ralosk, Gavin Azi'skar, Grafisk Rey'tiv, Mayer Tatrek, and Lieutenant Kilar Maj'lab.
After five minutes of discussion and sharing of information, Fraedrak, Tav, and Azi'skar came to the conclusion that there were likely 64 KHGC terrorists on the station. The Marshals had the whereabouts of one of their ships while the New Mandalorians had found five. That left three ships completely unaccounted for. By now, the number of dead was likely in the tens of thousands.
Kilar Maj'lab was the lone survivor of Gyart'trek's entourage. She was less than happy at the prospect of Tav Mi'zya resuming command. "We are screwed," she muttered bitterly in Basic. "You may be the highest-ranking officer here Tav Mi, but this isn't a normal day at your kriffing desk. This is… Sir, you are just SHTAK!" She yelped the last word furiously, biting the air. Tears were in her eyes.
Nezir glared at her. Warosh whistled, exhaling a nervous puff of air. Azi'skar blinked, staring up at the ceiling. Not reacting particularly much.
Fraedrak thought of putting his helmet back on to disguise his facial expressions.
Tav Mi'zya's fur stood on end. He sat up higher in his bed. "Lieutenant, I am not on the other side of an airlock anymore," he growled cautiously. His fur rippled stiffly.
Kilar Maj'lab's fur fell flat.
Fraedrak had witnessed that particularly nasty bit of Bothan drama on the Consulate's viewscreen. He imagined Kilar must now be thinking: Uh oh. The only one keeping Tav from squealing is dead. Tav got into a barfight. I helped put someone in an airlock. If Tav squeals…
Gyar'trek's dead… The thought resurged into Fraedrak's mind. A sinking feeling began in his stomach again. Damn. I need to stop this. We need to focus. No time to deal—
"—Other side of an airlock?!" Nezir snarled. "Tav, what did they do to you?"
"We don't have time for arguments," Tav growled wearily, his fur twirling. "I'll tell you later." He turned back to Kilar.
"I am sorry sir," she growled nervously.
"I know you are upset," Tav said consolingly. "We all lost a lot of people out there. I need to know, Kilar Maj, should I leave you here, or take you to the Situation Room. We need all the help we can get."
"I am very sorry for my outburst sir. It was inappropriate," Kilar stammered quickly. "I can act as your Naval liaison."
Tav nodded with a scowl.
And like that, the drama was ended.
Fraedrak had considered telling Gavin Azi'skar that Gyar'trek had not legally declared Martial Law and that, by no means, was Tav actually the commanding officer in charge of this whole shabfest. After seeing that exchange however, he reconsidered. Don't want to throw the Bothans into even more confusion, right after they sorted out the situation.
o-o-o
Tav Mi'zya
After giving a nervous farewell to Nezir and the kids, Tav went to the Situation Room with Warosh, Grafisk, Mayer, and Kilar. The plan was for Tav to coordinate the response while Fraedrak and a group of Protectors took Gavin Azi'skar and the others by police speeder to the Grum's Mansion in Grav'shtarn.
There were only six Marshals already in the Situation Room
"Where is Lieutenant Dzeshka Po and her team?" Tav asked, surprised at their empty chairs.
"They were there," Warosh growled wearily, pointing to the fiery crater on the viewscreen where Fort Otrek used to be. "Almost everyone was there."
Blast. That's right. Only Marshals working the nightshift were not in Fort Otrek. The only reason we weren't at home in Fort Otrek was because we were in prison. Tav's fur twirled unhappily. "How many survivors? Why… why aren't any of the Thellus cops here? We need to coordinate with them."
"I have the Thellus police on the line," Captain Mithir Fey'lab said, pointing to her headset.
Tav continued speaking, pacing around the room looking at all of the missing roles. At least we have one Naval officer here," he growled optimistically, gesturing to Kilar. Shtak. Could have used Fraedrak here. "We need a Protector here or someone from the Consulate to coordinate… Holy shtak what a mess. Major? You really couldn't think to do any of that?" he snarled.
"I am sorry sir," Warosh said wearily.
"Sir, what is our next move after organising the disparate elements?" Kilar asked, her fur swirled with suspicion.
"If we can muster a sufficient force and continue securing this position, we will breach their ship in the Gal'skar docks. Assuming it is still there, of course," Tav sighed. Damn. Shidar. "From there, we will try and find their remaining ships."
"If we can't muster a sufficient force?" Kilar asked more pointedly.
It is a good possibility. "We should have reinforcements within a day," Tav growled. "The Mandalorians have 80 Protectors on the way. Hopefully, before then, we will… Have you messaged Bothawui asking how long for support?"
"I am trying sir, but something strange is happening," Sergeant Jalanor Rey'tel growled, fiddling with her terminal. "Well, as you know, the rescue teams haven't detected any radioactive contamination."
I didn't know that. Good. It wasn't a nuke, Tav thought.
She continued, "someone somewhere is broadcasting that we have station-wide contamination, warning all ships in the system to stay away."
Tav approached her station. "Can you advise the system that this is not the case?"
"No sir, none of our transmissions—we're… We're being jammed!" Jalanor gasped.
"Jammed? How are we being jammed?!" Tav snarled. "We can't even contact the Buli now and it's right next door!"
"Sir," Kilar growled, her fur swirled nervously. "If I may, we can still communicate by directly going places, right? We can just walk next door."
Tav scowled, blinking in annoyance. "Yes, we can."
"The police radios should work sir," Mithir growled, glaring at Kilar. "It's only the holonet and external comm relays that have been severed."
"Okay, that could work, do we—"
"—I have the Buli on the line now sir!" Mithir yipped in relief.
o-o-o
Shidar Zhol'skar
Shidar walked through the empty ship after stirring awake. What could that alarm be… the shaking. Where is everyone? The kitchen and common areas were empty. She continued on to the bridge.
"What are you doing?" Shidar growled nervously to the droid. "The radiation alarm is a going off."
"Nokiz erz zhar agkanota 'radyashin." [There is no radiation emergency.] QP9X, the RA-7 protocol droid said in Bothese.
"Zon bedotha woks?!" [What do you mean?!] Shidar gasped.
[It's to ward off Bothan reinforcements in preparation to facilitate Phase Five,] QPX9 said simply.
[Phase Five?]
[Need to know,] QP9X growled in convincingly organic Bothese. He turned back to the comm terminal, responding to a call. [This is Thellus control.]
[This is Tawa police chief Trawalo Krit'skar here with requested reinforcements, requesting permission to dock,] a Bothan voice came through the comm.
[Radiation is still too high in any of the docking areas,] QP9X sighed. [Request denied. We have things under control here.]
o-o-o
Ditmas Shar
On the garbage level, underneath the Mandalorian Consulate, Ditmas and the three surviving members of Orion team sat in the darkness. Fiddling with a rectangular object he had left down here four days ago, Ditmas frowned.
Ditmas had planned to blow up the Mandalorian Consulate, to wipe out the heretics, after all of their other objectives had been completed. In hindsight, he should have instructed another team to handle the Consulate. Going from Fort Otrek to here was a mistake. We should have had more teams here in New Aroo. We should have taken out the Protectors first.
Now, Gavin Azi'skar had escaped. They had killed every target except the most important one.
Opening an access panel, Ditmas looked up the garbage chute for obstructions. Clear shot to the Consulate. Never too late to even the odds further. His exhausted hands were quaking. He set down the bomb. Mentally envisioning the blast cone, he held his shaking hands up, thumbs together, and angled his hands over the bomb. Not quite right. He pushed it three centimetres or so deeper into the chute.
"Sir, what are you doing?" Ketri asked, a hint of impatience in her voice.
"Just—Do you hear that?" Ditmas whispered, picking up his heavy repeater.
"Yeah, I—"
—A blaster shot hit Ketri's armoured glove. Her pistol exploded.
Ditmas ignored her screams and spun towards where the shots came from. In the corner of the room, Vank was shot three times with a Guardian lightning canon. His armour sparked and his wrist control panel exploded as he went down screaming.
Four protectors had already breached the room, two more were coming through the doorway.
"FREEZE! Drop your—"
—Ditmas raised his heavy repeater, then went down screaming. The displays on his helmet interior flashed with "ERROR" messages. Ditmas yelled in rage as his helmet was pulled off.
"IT'S DITMAS SHAR!" a female Mandalorian exclaimed. "WE HAVE DITMAS SHAR!"
