Project Boussh: Ending the Charade by Brad Corletti "Of course. Your prisoner," the lieutenant smiled "Of course, she told me something far different when I questioned her." Brad felt like he'd been shot in the gut - again. The New Republic had struck yet another blow against the innocent... He's lying! The thought leapt unbidden into Brad's mind. It takes an officer of Colonel rank or higher to override a Major's orders. Things started clicking into place. Minor inconsistencies began falling into place - not knowing of a possible source of information, then pretending to have already interrogated his Rebel prisoner. An Imp SpecForces officer operating solo. A mere Lieutenant daring to tie up an Imperial Major! The bastard was a fraud. Brad shook his head. Why didn't he see it earlier? He was obviously in the hands of those Rebels who attacked his base. Since he didn't recognise him, that must mean this clown must be Josh. Assuming, he reminded himself, that it wasn't a Wraith. Like Face. Time to buy a little time. He looked up at the lieutenant. "You bastard," he growled, grinding his teeth together. "I'll see you roasting on an open spit for this affront. That prisoner was mine to interrogate and mine alone!" The lieutenant stepped back. When playing Intelligence games, ground teeth can mean one of a few things. Suicide, kamikaze, or simple plain anger. When nothing happened, the lieutenant visibly relaxed. Brad felt confident for the first time in a significant while. If these were Rebels, they wouldn't just execute him out of hand. Which meant that he didn't have to mince words. Time to end the charade. Time to show the New Republic just what he thought of them. He rose to his full height. "Take me to the Admonitor, Lieutenant," Brad said reasonably as he took a step forward, his left foot forward, twisting at the waist slightly. "I need to see-" Twisting the other way, his right arm shot forward in a jackhammer blow towards the Rebel's stomach. In a silent warehouse in South Australia, something stirred.