Project Boussh: Everyone Wants To Be A Jedi
by Emily Janson

"We can't get any outside updates until I fix my computer," Emily
sighed, hitting her hand against the monitor hoping it would do
something, but the impact only caused the screen to flicker before
flashing back to the desktop. "Until then I can only send, not
receive. I can check AFW still for updates there, but either no one
has been writing recently or my computer is choosing to ignore all
posts related to Project Boussh."

"Do you have Internet access at school?" Wes asked.

"Yeah, but the principal is a Nazi and won't let us check our messages
there."

"A Nazi?"

"Never mind. And neither Sci nor Alison have been on Instant Messanger
when I am lately, so we're pretty much in the dark."

Wes leaned back in the chair he was sitting on backwards. "Now all we
need is a glow rod."

Emily heard someone coming up the stairs and Hobbie entered her room a
few seconds later. "I convinced him it would benefit to answer our
questions. He wants to know if we'll let him meet Luke Skywalker after
he answers our questions."

She shook her head. "Everyone wants to be a Jedi."

The prisoner wasn't really a trained stormtrooper. He was actually a
resident of Litchfield that got hired to be in some sort of local
militia. The idea of Imps taking over the small farm town didn't seem
very likely, but the armor had to of come from somewhere. They rushed
to where the stormie was being held in a shed in Emily's backyard. It
had snowed the day before and the rain from last night made the
surface slippery. Emily almost fell over when a small, white,
curly-haired dog came bounding over and tried to tackle her to the
ground.

"Lucky, you're a brat," she laughed. "Come on, you can snarl at the
stormtrooper."

The stormie was tied, suspended from the wall in a manner that
reminded Emily of a Malcolm in the Middle episode when Dewey was tied
to the back of a door. The yards and yards of rope were taken from the
lawn ornament otherwise known as a sailboat that hadn't moved from
next to her house for the past three years or so. Lucky growled, took
a sniff of his boot, and went to lie down by the shed's door.

"Let's start with an easy question," Wes said, tearing off the duct
tape that held the man's mouth shut. "Are there any Imps on Terra?"

The prisoner nodded ferociously. "I never would have gotten hired if
there weren't."

"Why did they hire you?"

"They had a representative or something going around asking if anyone
wanted to play mercenary. I needed the money to get Christmas presents
for my kids."

"How much?"

"American equivalent of a hundred thou- ImpCreds. However much that
is, anyway. The rep just said that we would be a militia of sorts if
the New Republic sent people to the area. I didn't think anyone would
and the money sounded good, so I joined. I'm a pretty good shot, too.
Go moose hunting every winter."

Emily was getting bored. Interrogations were always so much more
interesting in the books and movies. "Who sent you?" she asked, hoping
it would be some major Imp warlord to make this thing all the more
interesting.

"Christopher George," the man said simply.

Wes burst out laughing hysterically and even the usually dour Hobbie
managed a slight grin. "Christopher George!" Janson mocked. "What kind
of lame-ass alias is that?"

Emily laughed lightly. "It's not an alias. Christopher George is my
school's principal. I can't seem to figure which is worse, though, a
Nazi or an Imperial. I guess I was pretty damn close with my
accusation, though."

The sound of a shot being fired went off, instinctively knocking Wes
and Hobbie down to hug the shed's wooden floor and pulling Emily down
with them. Whoever had fired the shot only needed to once because a
laser hole from an exiting bolt of energy was smoking between the
eyes of the man who wouldn't be able to get those Christmas
presents for his kids.

*~**~*

"What do you mean we're leaving! A sniper kills a man in my shed and
we're leaving? What about the rest of my family; shouldn't they be
concerned about someone after them?" Emily stood with her hands on her
hips. She figured this would have happened. Put a fifteen year old in
charge of two grown men that happened to be Rogue pilots, they would
figure that age of majority and combat experience could pull rank.

"The less they know, the better for them. This is getting bigger than
it's supposed to. We probably could have known about all this sooner
if your email wasn't broken! Now civilians are getting involved and
getting killed in the process," Wes countered back.

"You guys were assigned to me, so I'm supposed to call the shots! This
is a different galaxy with different rules and technology."

"How are you supposed to call the shots if you don't know the first
thing about war?"

"Who said I don't? I know about every single battle Rogue and Wraith
Squadrons have fought in. Why is a teenager always assumed to walk
hand-in-hand with ignorance?"

Hobbie started to chuckle, which got Wes and Emily angry. They looked at
him and spoke in unison, "What?!"

"Nothing. Well...it's just that the two of you sound like you're
married. That's all."

Wes looked at her and saw the fight in Emily's eyes. _Gavin was
sixteen. Cheriss knew it her entire life. Terrans document our wars,
our battles, our lives, and these AFWers mainly focus on Rogue and
Wraith Squadrons. We were made out to be heroes for the battles we won
and victories we claimed. Terra deserves to be another, and we can't
let them down._ "What do you recommend we do?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Emily said, "We rendezvous with other
group members. If we're attacked, someone else had to of been. We can
get updates and possibly form a counter attack. Georgie may be an Imp
sympathizer, but he's still a principal. If we leave Litchfield, there
will be no problems. Not to mention there's no one left in his
militia. The mystery sniper is the only thing to worry about. Then
again, it could just be someone telling us to leave before any more
trouble begins. If the Imps wanted to get a message across, destroying
Litchfield wouldn't do it. That would be like cutting down one tree on
Endor."

"To the Ewoks, a tree represents life. Destroying a tree destroys a
piece of the galaxy according to them," Hobbie said.

"Well, then," Emily sat down on the sofa in her basement, "let's hope
that we can do a lot of damage with a few stones and arrows."

*~**~*

"We ready to get going?" Hobbie asked.

"I emailed Alison. She has a place here near Clark's Trading Post.
That's about two hours north of here, so we should be all set," Emily
replied, hoping no attacks would come between now and the arrival of
the next group.

"As long as they hurry," Wes was sitting at Emily's computer and
surfing around the Internet. "You have some strange pages bookmarked,
here. Tell me, who exactly _is_ this Yamato character?"

Emily blushed. _Alison better move her ass because curiousity ends up
killing the cat, not the Rogues._