RSD Kestrel, Randon Intersection, Mid-Rim
In the midst of Veryk's chaos, Nebhir had slipped into a corner of the bridge, unnoticed by any of the crew—who were more concerned with firing their blasters at the Viverrid. By the time Halfdan had arrived, Nebhir was already on the turbolift, taking it down to anywhere-but-here.
While Nebhir was as tall as a typical Bothan, she had muscle mass more similar to a Squib and was quite thin. She used that to her advantage, squeezing behind support columns as squads of clone security troopers ran past, en route to the bridge.
She could feel some withdrawal symptoms setting in, but being addicted to three spice blends as well as one type of hormone, Nebhir was not sure what she was craving. I gotta get out back to Coruscant. Ditch Sey'les. Restart my life. With the pirate lord Trajan Kran dead, I could at least take some emergency funds out of his reserves, buy myself a new ship, start shipping scrap and forge IDs again. There will certainly be hyperspace-capable ships on this vessel...
She jogged down the hall, towards what she felt must be the bow of the ship, where all of the hangars would be in relation to the bridge. I could take a Z-95 with a hyperdrive… A Y-Wing, an LAAT space model… Okay maybe not an LAAT, a Nu-Class then. Anything, just give me a hyperdrive.
The blaster on her vest had no charge left on it, leaving her unarmed. But she still had the three datarods she had used to open several layers of security at a bank on Skor II, minutes before she had jumped from the LAAT, a smoke bomb, a thermal detonator, and a hydrospanner.
Up ahead, in yellow and black caution paint, aurebesh letters on the bulkhead spelled "PORT FLIGHT-LINE BAY 3."
Nebhir sighed in relief, sprinting as fast as she could towards the sign. The hangar doors were open, revealing a row of parked Y-Wings on one side, and a row of LAATs on the other, as well as a handful of small wedge-shaped fighters she didn't recognize, craft which used their folded down radiator-wing panels as landing struts.
Behind them she could just make out a massive shuttle resembling a Nu-class with a massive cargo pod slung underneath its frame, wings folded upwards and scraping the roof rack, which had yet more of the tiny fighters slotted into docking spaces via clamps.
Beyond the bay entrance was the flightline, empty at the moment, with the hangars she could see directly across it being a semi-hive of activity as Clones and droids worked on numerous craft, including headhunters, more of the wedge fighters, and a few large multi-seat bombers that reminded her of fatter ARC-170s with engorged bellies.
Nebhir took a step inside, beginning to quake from her withdrawals.
Okay... Which ship to steal. Which—
"Hey!" a human voice yelled from her right. He was so close she could taste his aromatic musk.
All right, I know which hit I am getting withdrawals from… At least which one is hurting the worst. "Hey," Nebhir replied, blinking her black eyelashes effeminately.
A human male, but not a clone, approached her cautiously. He wore a blue jumpsuit with a yellow safety vest. "What are you doing here?"
Another voice yelled from behind an LAAT. "Throne, who are you talking to?"
"No kriffing idea Chief!" the human yelled back.
To Nebhir's surprise, a Bothan emerged from behind the gunship, tall and with variegated fur, much like one Bothan she had met before named Itoll. Well, it makes sense I suppose. This Commodore Kelia is hiring her own, or at least being assigned them. Bothans are sooo prone to nepotism.
The Bothan's snout hung open in shock as he approached Nebhir. He sniffed the air furiously, clearly unable to make heads or tails of her. Soon, both the human and Bothan were standing in front of Nebhir, looking at her curiously. "What are you?! You smell like a Bothan but so different…"
"Are there only two of you?" Nebhir asked instead of answering his question, her mousy Squib ears perked up innocently.
"Yeah," Throne, the human, answered. "It's just us—"
"SHHH!" the Bothan hissed, reaching for a wall comm.
Well, you're right to worry. With a snarl, Nebhir whacked the Bothan's wrist with her hydrospanner, then pulled a much longer datarod from her vest.
The Bothan recoiled, howling in pain as he fell to the floor.
She swiftly whapped the human on the helmet with her datarod, then began striking at unarmored parts, ruthlessly whacking his arms and legs. Finally, she tripped him from behind with a swift whap to the back of the knees.
With Throne yelling in pain, struggling to get up, Nebhir put a knee on his chest, then began rubbing her blue furry fingers all over his face, groaning in ecstasy.
"AHHH—WHAT THE HELL! GET OFF ME!" Throne screamed, batting her hand away.
"Just stay there," Nebhir instructed the human and Bothan as she got up, walking towards the shuttle at the far end of the hangar. She quickly glanced across the flight line to see if anyone had noticed. So far, nothing.
As she approached the first gunship between her and the shuttle, Nebhir heard some electronic chatter, droidspeak, followed by a series of mechanical whirrs—the familiar sound of astromech wheels.
Six astromech droids of varying models emerged from behind the LAAT. They paused for a moment, swiveling their domes to look at her and then to the two mechanics, groaning in pain on the floor.
Nebhir froze as she stared at the droids.
"STOP HER!" the Bothan snarled as he managed to prop himself up on his good arm.
Nebhir flashed her teeth at him, then turned back to the astromechs with her datarod, pointing the tool at them threateningly. "One step closer and I'll reprogram you with this!"
It was, of course, a bluff. The datarods were only programmed as keys for a bank vault in her hometown. Even if she managed to stick one into a droid's socket, it would only have received the code to open the vault of a bank that was destroyed two years ago when Skor II fell to the Separatists.
The droids aggressively rolled closer to her, chirping and whistling angrily. Each extended shock prods from behind panels on their cylindrical bodies.
Nebhir dropped her hydrospanner and pulled a second datarod from her vest, dual-wielding the longer tools. "I AM WARNING YOU!" she snarled. "ONE MORE STEP—AHHHH!"
The half-Squib shrieked in agony as one of the droids zapped her. Three more rolled forward and pushed her, knocking her onto her back. Within seconds she was surrounded by astromechs, the droids ruthlessly zapping her with arcs of electricity.
She swung her legs around the nearest one, struggling to pull it over, but it was no use, the droid was too stable and too heavy, and a dull thunk indicated it had also mag-locked itself to the deck. "AAHH! STOP! I GIVE UP!" she gasped, letting go of her datarods and letting them roll away from her hands.
The droids chittered triumphantly, most of them keeping their prods pointed at Nebhir's curled up and sobbing form. One of the astromechs then rolled off to sound the alarm.
o.o.o.o.o
Kelia Los'ean
A dozen of the Kestrel's highest-ranking officers were now present in the flesh in the ship's CIC. They were joined by a dozen more attending as holopresences, and the Lothwolf Halfdan, the ashy-furred Bothan wearing a construction outfit, Lir Sey'les, and the Convor Morai.
The highest-ranking attendee was not Commodore Kelia Los'ean, but Kelia's immediate superior, Admiral Maarisa Zsinj, a Chandrillan human female, who was calling in from Manda.
"Bring her in," Kelia ordered, one finger on the CIC's intercom button.
Four Troopers led by Commander Vex ushered in a figure in stun-cuffs and a cut-down grey version of a Clone training uniform. To Kelia's surprise, the ship's doctor, Lieutenant Commander Perla, a reddish Mon Calamari female, entered the room standing alongside Nebhir.
Bafflingly to Kelia, the half-Squib looked in terror specifically at Kev, her lower jaw trembling.
"Sey'les, you reported Nebhir dead!" Kev snarled, causing Nebhir to shirk back towards the door.
"You reported?" Kelia asked incredulously to both Kev and Sey'les—who was wearing a construction outfit and did not appear to be a part of the Republic military or Jedi Order in any capacity.
"Lir Sey'les used to be a Direct Action Operative," Kev snarled, "Before she was stripped of her rank and deported. Now it turns out that she was less than truthful about Nebhir—Unsurprising."
"She was dead, Commodore," Sey'les said firmly, suddenly picking up a tone that resembled military bearing. "When I was in the World Between Worlds—"
"Let's save this argument for the appropriate time," Halfdan growled, glowering at both Bothans.
Perla turned Kelia. "Commodore, there are some things we need to urgently discuss before this individual," she waved her fin at the half-Squib, "participates in any briefing."
After a few seconds of being completely flummoxed, Kelia realized there must be serious health concerns pertaining to Nebhir. "Excuse me a moment," she said apologetically, following the doctor who had stepped just outside in the empty turbolift platform.
The Mon Calamari's already large eyes were even wider than normal. "I don't even know where to begin when it comes to Nebhir," she said, handing Kelia a datapad. On screen was her bloodwork.
The half-Squib's chart was obscene. She tested positive for Glitterstim, Guilea, and Yaladai, all highly illegal and the last one apparently requiring arresting officers to immediately inform the Jedi Order if someone tested positive for it, for some reason. There was also a hormone of some sort, Androstadienol, which Kelia had never heard of before.
"The security team fingerprinted her after she was captured in bay three. She assaulted Petty Officer Brik Throne and Chief mechanic Relirsk Yi'nel—"
"Nebhir did what?! Are they alright?"
"Both of them suffered minor injuries," Perla nodded, "But they will be fine. The Androstadienol concerns me… It's the least-damaging of Nebhir Traf'lab's addictions, and at first I thought she must have a hormonal imbalance. But the scans found the substance in her fur in high concentrations on her hands. Androstadienol does occur naturally in virtually all mammals, including humans, Squibs, Bothans… Humans have a fairly high amount though, and human males have about five times the amount as females of their species. Unlike Squibs or Bothans, humans can release the hormone from their sweat glands on their skin—My guess is that Nebhir can imbibe the hormone on human skin through her fur, as Squib fur is known to have nerve endings leading directly to the olfactory gland. It may be the result of the fact she's a hybrid… I am not sure."
"You're not telling me…" Kelia started then trailed off. She had a briefing to attend to, and Admiral Zsinj would only wait patiently for so long seeing a Lothwolf on her holoprojector. "You're sure this individual is Nebhir Traf'lab."
"Yes, I am certain, Commodore," Perla nodded. "What wanted to report was, I am going to give her a small dose of Ryll to help with withdrawals—"
"After the briefing doctor," Kelia interrupted, "I really need to return."
"Very well."
When Kelia stepped back into the briefing room, her thoughts were swimming. Did Lir Sey'les falsify Nebhir's death? What did this 'World Between Worlds' have to do with it? Did Sey'les change history by saving that half-Squib spice addict, and more importantly, why?
"Commodore, you had better got a damn good explanation for this," Zsinj's holopresence said, positively glaring at Kelia.
"It is I who am doing the explaining," Halfdan purred serenely.
"I know you can talk," Zsinj retorted. "No, I need an explanation for why this is happening, Commodore Los'ean. Why was my schedule interrupted so I can meet face to face with the Captains of your taskforce, a talking dog, a very blue prisoner," she said, turning to Nebhir, "And… Is that a Convor?"
Kelia paused for a moment struggling to explain it herself. "Admiral, this wolf, Halfdan," she finally managed, "Appeared through a portal onto my bridge, along with two other animals. We…" she winced, "Tried to stun them. Tried to blast them. Nothing worked. I don't think they mean to hurt us, since they clearly possess powers beyond that of the Jedi and still have yet to act against me. At present, Halfdan seems to be the only one who can communicate with humans, which is why I believe they sent him to us."
"A portal," Zsinj said with raised eyebrows, "and they?! Who is 'they'?"
"You said something about a 'council'?" Kelia asked Halfdan.
"Yes, and that is all I am willing to share," the Lothwolf growled cautiously.
"They claim to come from the future," Kelia added, "or at least to have time-traveled."
"I think I come from a different point in the present," Sey'les growled.
"No, you come from a few months in the past," Halfdan said, "And Nebhir from a few years in the past."
In the center of the table, Admiral Zsinj's holopresence was now busily recording notes on a datapad.
"I tolerate your presence here," Halfdan muttered, "Or at least tolerate Commodore Los'ean's decision to include you here because you are in as great of danger as any of us."
"I am listening," Zsinj said.
"You know?" Halfdan asked rhetorically, "This would be easier if my son were here. He loves tinkering with scrap from the recycling plant and has a knack for technology. Would it be agreeable for him to join us, Commodore?"
Well, that's one way to prove to Zsinj that we have a literal time-portal problem on my ship. "Does he also need a caf?" Kelia asked with narrowed eyes.
"No, caf makes him far too hyperactive," Halfdan sighed, tail wagging as he walked around the conference table in a circle. He came to a rest in front of the bulkhead leading to the turbolift shaft.
"Admiral Zsinj, I hope you are watching that portion of bulkhead," Kelia said through gritted teeth.
"What portion of—Oh my!"
A now-familiar vortex appeared in the wall, creating an opening to darkness beyond. Halfdan stuck his head inside and began howling. "ZOLTAN! WE NEED YOUR HELP!"
Soon thereafter, a smaller black furred Lothwolf appeared—still huge by human or Bothan standards, but smaller for a Lothwolf. "What is it dad?"
"This… New technology," Halfdan spat. "I don't sense Sey'les or Nebhir are particularly good with technology, Morai's next to useless—"
The convor hooted indignantly.
"Don't worry dad," Zoltan sighed, stepping out of the portal, "I can help."
"Help with what?" Kelia asked worriedly.
"Pull up the file on Nebhir Traf'lab's death," Halfdan said.
Zoltan approached the holoprojector, placing one paw on it.
"So now you're letting these strange dogs access our databases?" Zsinj snorted. "Commodore, I am sure this will come up in your next security clearance review."
Kelia winced, not sure how to respond. All she could do was hope that whatever the Lothwolves presented next was worth allowing them access.
Zoltan's eyes glowed white as he held a paw on the computer terminal. For all of five seconds, the holodisplay in the center of the table shifted rapidly, so fast that it was impossible to make anything out. Then Zoltan's ears perked up. "Dad, I think I got it! It's… Be warned, it's gnarly!"
"Just put it up… Or whatever you say. Transmit it to us?" Halfdan asked with uncertainty.
A moment later, everyone in the briefing room's datapads buzzed, receiving a file. Kelia swiped her datapad's screen, accessing it. The file was a record of a corpse of an unusual hybrid, Nebhir Traf'lab, being transferred from GAR to Kaminoan possession, following the Battle of Skor II. Even in this secret file, the details of what exactly had unfolded were redacted. Attached was a file written by Lir Sey'les, reporting the death of Nebhir to Admiral Tarkin.
Kelia opened the image attachment and shuddered. Zoltan's description of the image as gnarly didn't do it justice. The bones on the right side of Nebhir's face were visible, and her fur was torn off in multiple places.
Sey'les pushed her own datapad to Nebhir, who shuddered, tears in her eyes.
"Kaminoans…" Zsinj muttered. "Well, that explains it. They cloned Nebhir."
"Oh sure," Halfdan scoffed, "the Kaminoans cloned her and she sprung to adulthood in just two years."
"With all due respect, Admiral," Kelia growled cautiously, "I would have thought so too initially, but my ship's doctor ran a DNA test. The test did not note the shortened telomeres marking her as a Clone. Even the Kaminoans produce Clones with shortened telomeres depending on where on Jango they took the specific sample from… Nebhir also reacted to Kev very viscerally a moment ago. I don't know exactly what happened on Skor II, but it seems she remembers."
"I would like a copy of her medical tests," Zsinj said stiffly, ignoring Halfdan, who had lowered his snout to the mug of caf in front of him, and begun lapping it up with his long tongue.
"I will have it sent to you in a moment," Kelia replied, gesturing to one of the clone technicians standing in the background.
"I never made it to Skor II," Kev snarled suddenly, banging his fist on the table. "I was in the hospital and had to be recalled out of duty. Nebhir, care to elucidate the reason why?"
Nebhir covered her eyes with her cuffed hands and sobbed.
"Kev, cut it out," Sey'les snarled. "This was all just like… a week ago to Nebhir. And if I recall, you messed up so much of the mission—Care to tell us why it was that I and the rest of Team Muun were in no position to help you? How was it that Nebhir and Trajan kriffing Kran were loose on the ship while I was in the brig? Tell them how you accused me, not just of being a Separatist traitor, but of being a droid! You thought I was a clanker!"
A momentary swirl of shame crossed Kev's fur, but then his expression hardened.
"Trajan Kran?" Kelia asked.
"He was a crime lord," Kev growled, "He looked human, but had a body that made him invisible to security cameras… Tarkin made me, Sey'les, and a group of Direct Action Operatives work with Trajan Kran, who had agreed to supply the Republic information in exchange for immunity for his crimes. Nebhir was Trajan Kran's partner in crime, and she put glass in my ice. I couldn't see the glass, and it cut… It cut everything."
"I am glad you survived, Master," Ekos said serenely.
"While true, this is all irrelevant," Halfdan said, withdrawing his snout from the cup of caf. He shook his head before pacing a circle around the table, then stopped at Nebhir, putting one of his large paws on her shoulder. "I did not have Zoltan bring up that file so we can argue about the past. Instead, well… Ladies and gentlemen, here is your irrefutable proof of time travel. Here is your proof that what I am about to tell you is true… Or at least, some evidence supporting it."
"And what are you telling us?" Kelia asked
Halfdan paused thoughtfully for a moment, as if deciding just how much information to tell them all before answering. "It is imperative that you rescue a clone trooper named Kix, under the designation CT-6116. In just ten hours, a Separatist vessel, a cruiser of some kind, holding him will exit hyperspace at Ponemah Terminal, on the edge of the Unknown Regions."
"Why, praytell, should I authorize a Republic fleet to jump out to the Unknown Regions to rescue a single clone trooper?" Admiral Zsinj asked gruffly.
"And what about the bees?" Sey'les asked Halfdan, then stared at Kev worriedly. "Remember what Veryk told us about the wasps and the bees?"
"The wasps!" Nebhir gasped, staring open-snouted at Kev. "The wasps are about to kill the bees!"
Everyone stared at the two alleged time travelers, eyebrows raised.
I'd hope 'wasps and bees' isn't a euphemism for sexual education, but given the circumstances I have no idea what to expect. Kelia thought dryly as she glanced at Nebhir and Sey'les.
"It is best to let them learn about the wasps and the bees from someone else," Halfdan purred. "To answer the other question… Zoltan, I've seen Sidious viewing it, but it was categorized under something called 'Omega.' Do you think you can pull the surveillance footage of Kix's transfer?"
Omega, Kelia thought with a frown. A few months ago, she had met one of the Supreme Chancellor's advisors who had something called 'Omega Clearance' which gave him access to all of her ship's systems, and the ability to unilaterally abort and initiate missions.
"Omega clearance," Zsinj hissed, "I don't have omega clearance. This is a serious violation of the Official Secrets Act! Even the name of that clearance is classified!"
"Omega… This will be more difficult," Zoltan growled, ignoring the Admiral. His eyes glowed white again. For all of thirteen seconds, he stood there, one paw on the computer terminal. "I got it!"
Kelia looked at her datapad in anticipation, but nothing happened. Instead, this time Zoltan had chosen to send the file directly to the holoprojector in the middle of the table (and presumably to Zsinj's holoprojector as well).
On holodisplay was a scene that caused Kelia's fur to go flat and caused many of the human officers to cry out in alarm, the Clones among them sounding particularly distressed. A group of four clone commandos in silver-striped armor and one cuffed clone in a black jumpsuit, stood next to a group of battle droids—in front of a Separatist Sheathipede-class transport. All illusions that this was perhaps a training exercise, or that the droids were somehow under Republic control, vanished when the cuffed clone began screaming.
"TRAITORS! YOU'RE NO BETTER THAN CLANKERS! YOU'RE—OOF!" he groaned as one of the commandos pressed a stun baton into his back.
"We will take him from here," a T-series tactical droid said, gesturing for two of the commando droids to take possession of the clone prisoner.
"Clones working for the Separatists!" Zsinj cried out in outrage.
"It's not unheard of, Admiral," cautioned Lieutenant Brell Conten, one of Kelia's senior bridge staff.
"But those were isolated incidents!" said the holopresence of Captain Darik of the Nightingale, one of the Kestrel's escort corvettes. "This is minimally an entire squad."
"Of Clone Commandos no less…" Kelia noted, fur rippling nervously.
"Oh it's much deeper than that," Halfdan purred, his white teeth contrasting against his silver fur in an eerie smile. "To even view this requires Omega access, which means someone in control of handing out those security clearances was also involved. There are only six individuals in the Galactic Republic with that power, all of them on the Republic Security Committee, Republic Strategic Command, or both. Find Kix and bring him to the Jedi High Council. They will know what to do… I hope." He paused, staring at Kev.
"None of this information can leave this meeting," Zsinj said suddenly. She held her datapad up, hastily erasing every note she had recorded.
"Oh Maarisa," Halfdan snorted, suddenly referring to the Admiral on a first-name basis, "If you think pretending to be ignorant to these plots will save you—"
"I didn't say that!" Zsinj yelled, her face becoming red with impatience.
Halfdan licked his lips. "The knives are out. You will all need to watch your backs. Zoltan, purge every recording of this meeting."
"Yes, father," Zoltan said, eyes becoming white again. "Their databanks won't remember we ever existed."
"Good. Zoltan and I shall now take my leave of you. Thank you all for your patience and—"
"You can't just abandon us!" Sey'les snarled indignantly. "First Veryk has to go now—"
"I'm leaving Morai in charge," Halfdan said consolingly, a portal now open behind him. "Morai, make sure Commodore Los'ean and Lir Sey'les remain on-task. Help them prepare any way you can. At the end of this ordeal, I will return to retrieve you."
Morai turned her head a hundred and eighty degrees, hooting in understanding.
"Set course immediately for Ponemah Terminal," Zsinj ordered the moment Halfdan and Zoltan disappeared into the portal's event horizon. "And Commodore Los'ean?"
"Yes Admiral?" Kelia growled.
"Whatever that wolf says, you're in operational command, not that blasted bird."
"Aye ma'am." Kelia acknowledged as Zsinj's holopresence vanished.I need a damn drink.
