Project Boussh: Back Online
by Majick

    Mike looked impatiently at the Internet cafe doors. They were late
reopening after the NRI team had accidentally released a virus into their
systems, and the team desperately needed to send their message to the rest
of the Boussh team. They knew exactly who was behind the kidnap of Quiara,
as well as the villain's plans for world domination and subjugation. That
the bad guy, one Eugor Atner, had the Empire's help only increased the
seriousness of the situation the Bousshers faced.

    Inside the cafe, the technician completed his final checks on the
system, and nodded assent to the owners, who breathed a sigh of relief. Both
had been involved with the Internet since it's early days, and neither had
uncovered a virus as destructive as this one had been. They dearly wished to
encounter the people who'd unleashed the virus, preferably with a railgun or
rocket launcher to hand.

    Mike listened very carefully for the telltale sounds of the bolt sliding
back behind the door, then the snapping of deadbolts being released. Beside
him, Shalla, as communications expert, whispered into her comlink that they
were about to go in. Mike wished once again for a conventional mobile phone,
but a lack of funds prevented it. Mike cursed his lack of money most of all.
After his laptop had crashed, the team had been unable to obtain a spare to
relay messages to the rest of the group. His team's actions had had
unforeseen consequences.
    In blowing a hole in the Republican building, following the Democrat
bomb, they'd unwittingly increased security in public places. This stopped
them merely lifting a computer from a store, or breaking into anywhere where
they could access the Internet. News of their virus had made people wary of
sharing their computers as well, so they couldn't even borrow a laptop from
anyone, no matter how hard Shalla or Bror tried to charm them.
    Mike made a promise to himself to try and foresee the future wen
planning missions. He sighed and wished devoutly that his team had been
assigned a cooler head, like Tycho, or Kirney, to compensate for the rampant
enthuisasm his team offered.

    From high on a nearby rooftop, Bror and Elassar watched expectantly as
their friends walked into the cafe. The feed from Shalla's comlink kept them
updated on the duo's movement inside the cafe, as they payed for their
space, and logged on to the server.
    "Isn't it my turn with the bins?" Elassar wanted to know.
    "There's nothing to see. They are inside," Bror replied.
    "So what are you watching for?"
    "In case they come out."
    "I could do that just as well as you, and it is my turn..." Elassar
pointed out.
    "I thought you were one of those Devaronians whose lineage was a
throwback to the hunting days? Are you not possessed of enhanced senses that
allow you to see things us humans cannot?"
    "Yeah, and I'm also possessed of the ability to overpower you and take
those bins if you don't let me take my turn," Elassar said, with a raised
voice.
    "Will you please keep your voice down? We are supposed to be a covert
team, after all, and I'm sure the security for this building, lax though it
certainly is, will be sharp enough to hear you bellowing your lungs out."
    "You just don't like the idea that anyone else could do something as
well as you, do you?" Elassar asked.
    "I am perfectly prepared to let you conduct your share of the overwatch
duties, but the simple fact of the matter is that we agreed a maximum of
twenty minutes per turn on the binoculars, and I have yet to see ten minutes
elapse on the present rotation. I suggest you concentrate those remarkable
senses of yours, and make sure we are not being approached."
   Elassar sighed, and focussed his hunters senses on his surroundings.
Slightly improved over standard human senses, Devaronian hunters had
survived many hunts throughout the years because of the additional warning
their senses gave them.
    Just like in this instance, when Elassar heard the footfall of someone
on the roof maintenance ladder, two stories below.
    "Bror..." he began.

    To: Boussh Group
    From: Majick & Co.
    Subject: Most urgent information on suspect Eugor Atner

    Further to early communiques, this group can confirm that Eugor Atner,
Dictator of Mendellia, has struck a deal with the Empire to take our planet
into the Empire's control. His reward will be the leadership of a racially
pure planet, one where all people's are confined to their home country's,
and consortion with anyone of a different race will be a punishable offence.
    He has the backup of a Star Destroyer, and has delivered an ultimatum to
candidates Bush and Gore, whichever one of them eventually wins the
election, he has to make the USA the beginning point of Atner's movement.
The alternative is to have the Star Destroyer pound America flat, and then
Atner takes over the planet bit by bloody bit.
    By the way, you science buffs out there may have noticed that the Hubble
telescope is offline. Make that a permanent change. Atner decided to give
Gore and Bush a practical demonstration...
    Mike, Shalla, Elassar & Bror

    Bror turned to look at the Devaronian, and read the seriousness of his
young partner's expression. He pointed at the fire escape, and the two
sprinted for it, as a security guard opened the rooflight and spotted them.
    "Stop! Stop there! Hey!"

    Mike and Shalla left the internet cafe, and Shalla instantly tried to
regain contact with the overwatch duo. Hearing nothing from their comm link,
the two of them headed towards the building that had been their last known
location. Nering it, they heard shouting, and a loud crunching sound,
accompanied by a stifled yell. They broke into a run.

    Bror and Elassar made it to the fire escape as the security guard
summoned assistance. He then sprinted to the edge of the roof and again
called for the two men to stop. When they continued their descent, he pulled
his revolver from its holster, and aimed it at Elassar.
    "Last time. Stop, or I shoot!" he yelled.
    "Sithspit," muttered Bror, as he paused and looked up at the security
guard. "Elassar," he called up to the Devaronian. "We are going to have to
jump. On three. One..."
    "Are you crazy? That's six storeys!"
    "Aim for the garbage. Two..."
    "Great. Dead *and* smelly... I hope you know what you're doing, bacta
boy."
    "Me too. Three!"
    The NRI duo leapt from the ladder, and dropped more than thirty feet
into a huge pile of garbage. Elassar landed agilely, his genetic heritage
giving him the advantage. Bror, good condition though he was in, landed
badly, and only half managed to stifle a cry of pain.
    Elassar was quickly upright, and ready to run, but was pulled up hort
when he realised Bror wasn't going oanywhere. He looked at the Thyferran's
leg to see a shard of bone protruding from his shin. The wound was already
bleeding copiously, and Bror looked to be in shock.
    "Son of the Sith, Bror, I told you that was a bad idea."
    "It don't get any better, son. Let's see, trespassing, and attempted
breaking and entering. Not to mention failing to stop when caught by
securty. Why dont you just turn round, and we'll sort this out."
    Elassar turned around, and found himself face to face with a Washingotn
police man. Fat, middle aged, and short, the man still had the advantage
over Elassar, simply because he had a gun on the Devaronian, and was outside
of Elassar's reach.
    "Now, you want to explain why you and your busted up friend over there
were prowling around the rooftop of that building up there?"
    "No," Elassar replied, "but she might." He pointed over the policeman's
shoulder, and the officer instinctively looked sideways for a second, but
snapped his gaze back forward.
    "Nice try son, but it takes better than that to get me," the cop said.
    "Shame," Shalla said, stepping from behind the man, and grabbing his gun
arm. Wrenching it skyward, she stepped alongside him, and twisted over by
ninety degrees, alowing her to bring her foot up flush into the cop's chin.
He dropped like a stone. The trio of standing NRI agents rushed over to
Bror, who was shivering uncontrollably, and was a deathly colour.
    "We need to get hiim to a medunit," Shalla said.
    Mike gestured with the gun he'd taken from the cop. "Sure, and every cop
in town will line up outside the ER to take in the three who attacked one of
their own. Their has to be a better way."
    "What do you suggest then, Lead?"
    "Don't you have a field medikit?"
    "Sure," said Elassar. "I'm even a trained corpsman, but it's all up on
the roof. I'm sure the security guard who spotted us has got his friends
onto us by now."
    "Suggestions?" Mike asked.
    "We move out of here. Tie up Bror's wound, try and staunch the flow.
Maybe we can get some medical supplies in a medical shop?"
    "Has to be worth a try," Mike allowed. "OK, let's get some strips of
cloth for you to work with then, Elassar."

    Ten minutes later, Elassar had fixed a rudimentary splint to Bror's leg,
and cut off most of the bleeding. Elassar and Mike lifted him onto their
shoulders, and began to drag the half conscious man towards the street, in
Shalla's wake.
    The plan was rudely interrupted by the arrival of a number of squad
cars, each of which disgorged a number of policemen, who took up positions
covering the alley. The NRI team quickly took cover behind a dumpster.
Elassar spoke first.
    "It hasn't been our week, has it?"