Project Boussh: Ex Post Facto
by scifantasy

"I can't sense you. And why are you three looking at me like that?"
Vickie was wearing an odd expression: part confusion, part anonyance,
and part wonderment. Sci could guess where the various parts came
from: The confusion he recognized as what he saw for a second on Luke
Skywalker's face, when he couldn't sense Sci's presence; the annoyance
probably came from being interrupted in what was obviously a
meditation; and the wonderment from battling her deomns and winning.
You didn't have to be Force-sensitive to gave some idea of what
happened here.
"I'll respond to those concerns in reverse order," said Sci. "I'm
looking at you because I can't imagine or comprehend what happened to
this room, and I'm not sure i want to. They're looking at you because
they can imagine, comprehend, and probably feel some of it, I assume.
You had a little run-in with the Dark Side?" Vickie nodded, a little
astounded. She looked around the room slowly. From the condition of
the room, it was apparent that something big had taken place. The
walls were carbon-scorched, the computer panel was blown out, the
lights were flickering, the mattress was trashed...it looked like a
war had been fought in the room. An apt metaphor, Vickie thought.
"And how come I can't sense you?"
"Long story. To put it short, I'm kind of a human ysalamir. I can't be
sensed or affected by the Force in any way, short of you
telekinetically thrwing a rock at me. Personally, I think it might be
useful in case I run up against a Jedi or other Force-sensitive being.
And given you, Mike, Corran, Tyria, and who knows who else, that will
definitely be useful."
Mike turned to glare at Sci. "Spoilsport."
Sci chuckled slightly. "So, Vickie, I take it you emerged victorious
from your bout with the Dark Side."
"Yeah, but I'm not in the mood for Round 2."
Sci smiled a little. "As Gurney Halleck says, mood's a thing for
cattle, not fighting. But I'm not going to argue."
Corran looked at Sci. "Whoever this Gurney person is, I want to meet
him."
Sci sighed. "So, I have to loan you Dune as well as the Wheel of Time?
I should stop quoting books."
Vickie nodded. "Maybe you should. Anyway, did you just come here to
see what was going on?"
"Well, they did," said Sci, gesturing to Corran and Mike. "I, on the
other hand, came to give you the good news. You're released from
lockup, and we want you back on active status for whenever we invade
Mendellia."
Vickie's jaw dropped, something Sci probably attributed to her
inability to see what was coming more than the news. "What about my
letting Brad go free?"
"Well, I had a few conversations with some of the major players. you
shoudl call your husband, by the way--he's probably worried about
you."
"You called Rich? What did he say?"
"About the same thing as the rest of them. Regardless of what you did
concerning Brad, you would never do anything to deliberately hinder
the mission. Your questionable actions were a result of prodding from
the Force, something which I obviously have no skill at, but which I
am willing to trust. Your skills would also be useful in the invasion
that must happen sooner or later. And besides, being the only one with
no marbles is no fun." Sci smiled at the last one--he'd been quoted as
saying that as the ringleader of the Project, he must have the fewest
marbles of anyone present.
"However," Corran cut in, "there is one thing you should do. Given
your fight, I'd say you're ready to take yet another step along the
path of the Jedi."
"And that would be?" Vickie asked, although she already had a pretty
good idea.
"You need a lightsaber of your own. One that represents your own
future as a Jedi, and not just the idea of a Jedi, like mine did."
"You probably want yours back for those same reasons, Corran," Sci
chimed in. Mike nodded agreement to both of them.
"Truth be told, you probably should have made yours before I made
mine."
"I'll get started on that today," Vickie said, standing up. "But not
in here--and not in the bathroom, either."
The four began walking back toward the cabin. "So what did I miss
while I was out?"
Sci thought. "Well, Bror Jace has become Gonad One for the purposes of
call signs, he said, unable to resist cracking a smile. "Pash got
drunk on hot buttered rum--"
"He did?"
"Apparently rum is stronger than lomin-ale or lum." Then Sci sobered.
"Some bad news--Wes Janson is dead. He was captured and tortured."
Vickie kept walking, with an odd expression on her face. "He's been
reported dead before, don't forget."
"You think he's alive?" Sci's voice was tinged with a hint of
hopefulness.
"Something isn't right about his death, I know that."
"Maybe that's good news."