Project Boussh: Espionage - A Different Language
by Josh Nolan

Josh sauntered down the warm Melbourne street, the unfamiliar beanie
snug around his skull, his baggy pants nearly tripping him up, his fake
gold chain weighing heavily around his neck.  *God, I hate this
disguise.*  Immediately after the thought crossed his mind, a reproach
followed it.  *It is necessary for the mission.  A good soldier does not
gripe about his duty.*

Doing his best to ignore the stormtrooper voice in his head, he wandered
past a particular warehouse, taking in details of its construction,
noting the number of windows and estimating its security.  As he passed
it, he nodded at the thickset man leaning casually against the door, and
called out, "Yo, 'sup, G?  You must be cookin' yo' ass out here, man!"

The stormtrooper merely fixed Josh with an icy glare.  Inwardly, Josh
smiled - this disguise was doing its job.  Outwardly, he ostentatiously
paused, checked his watch, and fished his new mobile phone out of one of
the cavernous pockets in his pants.  He brought up the single number on
the speed-dial, and called it while strutting away from the warehouse.

"Ten here."

"Yo, my main man, how's you keepin', baby?"

"Josh?"

"Right ohn, my brutha.  I been lookin' for that ad-dress you left me,
but I can't find it nowheah.  All's I find is some musclehead givin' me
a look that says he sees thing in black and white, knowwadI'msayin'."

There was a pause on the other end while Ooryl unravelled Josh's
dialect.  "There's a stormtrooper on guard outside.  Correct?"

"Word."

"Was that a yes or a no?"

"Is the Pope Catholic, y'all?"

"Is the what what?  Josh, start making sense."

"Can that Luke Skywalker mofo fly an X-Wing or what, mah man?  He's one
baaaad mother behind a stick."

Ooryl paused another few seconds.  "It's a yes."

"Right ohn."

"Were you able to determine much else about the place?"

"Fear not - Curly G Cradle Rock is on the case."

"What?"

"I'm thinkin' we can go up to dat joint and BAM!  Cradle Rock style!"

"Josh, Ooryl thinks these phones were a bad idea.  Ooryl cannot
understand you."

"Well, muh man, I gots places to go, people to do, knowwadI'msayin'?
And the Curly G has got hisself some ideas, baby!  Cookin' ideas!  I'll
be round to your place and I'll let you know the blueprints, baby!
BAM!  Cradle Rock Style!"

"Ooryl thinks you're getting carried away."

"Me?  Never.  Hang loose, G."

A sigh echoed over the line.  "I hope that is a signoff, Josh.
Goodbye."

Josh hung up, pocketing the mobile again, and continued walking.  He had
barely gone three metres when a voice rang out from some distance behind
him, yelling, "Oi!"

Josh tried to conceal the sudden ice that appeared in his veins, and
turned around with studied insolence towards the disturbance.

The stormtrooper was standing a couple of metres out from the doorway of
the warehouse, holding his arms at the ready as if for combat, even
though Josh was some fifty metres away.  "You make me sick, boy.  Get
the hell out of here before I make you sicker."

Josh adopted some parody of a conciliatory pose.  "Chill, dogg.  I's
already going, a'ight?."
It really was a very good disguise.  It appeared to have exactly the
effect Josh was intending.

*******

There was a strange, off-white van sitting in the parking space next to
Kronos, outside the room Josh was renting at a low-rent motel.  Josh
casually sauntered around the van, noting its Queensland numberplates as
he did so.  The van was locked, as he discovered when he tried opening
the driver's-side door.  There was no clear way of getting a good look
at the main body of the van - the rear window was heavily tinted, and
the side panels had no windows at all.

Josh tested the van's sliding door, but it was locked as well.  He threw
a glance at the motel's front door, and began walking towards it,
fishing his blaster out of the rear waistband of his pants - when there
was a sudden noise behind him.

Josh whirled, bringing his blaster to bear, but a furry wave ripped him
off his feet and knocked him to the ground, yubbing furiously.  Josh
lashed out with a wild kick, connecting with something soft and furry,
throwing it away from him.  An elbow here, a knee there, and Josh
scrambled to his feet, with three groaning Ewoks on the ground around
him.  *They are your enemies,* the stormtrooper whispered.  *Show no
mercy to enemies.*  Josh gritted his teeth, and ignored the voice,
instead sweeping the Ewoks up in his gaze.

"Can't you guys just say hello before you jump on me?  Even a couple of
yubs'd be nice," Josh said, scowling at the Ewoks.  "You scared the
bejeezus out of me."  He gestured with the blaster.  "What if I'd shot
one of you?  Did you think of that?"

The Ewoks yubbed sorrowfully as they dragged themselves upright, one
still rubbing where Josh had kicked it.  Another waddled up to Josh and
embraced his leg, and Josh's irritability faded.  "Don't do it again,
huh?" he murmured, rubbing the top of the Ewok's head.

The door to the motel room creaked open, and Josh turned around to see
Nick standing in the doorframe.  Nick looked Josh's garish outfit up and
down, gave a meaningful glance at the Ewok attached to Josh's leg, and
Josh shrugged ruefully.
"Wassup, G," drawled Nick in an affected American accent.

Josh ignored the dig at his disguise.  "Can I come in?"

"You might want to take your Ewok off, first," said Nick,
straight-faced.

"Aaaah," said Josh, pulling a wad of folded and rolled papers from out
of his disguise's jacket.  "But I have blueprints."

Nick frowned.  "Was that supposed to follow?"

"No."

"At least we know you're not an impostor," grinned Nick.  "Come on in."