Project Boussh: Flowering Of Suspicion
by Nick Coghlan

"No? Yes? You seem a little unsure of yourself."

Brad swore silently to himself. He had been hoping he'd gotten away with
that slip of the tongue. Thinking quickly he said, "I meant of course
it'd be stupid to engage an unknown number of enemies on your own. But I
could see there were only four of them. I've handled that many dozens of
times before."

Nick mentally appended the missing words, "in simulation." Something
else Brad had said caught his attention, though. Before he could say
anything, Piggy stepped in.

"Four? You said you vaped two of them."

Brad nodded. "Yeah, they didn't seem interested in sticking around to
fight. Two of them hightailed it for orbit - there was no way I was
going to catch them."

Piggy nodded. "Well, that is certainly an explanation for the
discrepancy." As Piggy continued speaking, Nick stepped over to the
console and began to activate a recreation of the sensor logs. Piggy's
blaster, meanwhile, was still firmly trained on Brad. "Something you may
be interested in knowing is that the sensors were reactivated when that
message appeared. Whether that was intentional, or whether the agents
responsible aren't as good as they think they are we're not sure.
Regardless, I am sure you will find this fascinating viewing."

Brad wasn't listening. Nick had turned away from the console and was
watching Brad closely - his compatriot's eyes were glued to the screen.
What had captured Brad's attention was a simple recreation of a sequence
of tactical readouts. Tactical readouts desribing a battle that Brad
had, very recently, been involved in. Tactical readouts that showed a
B-wing engaging four TIE fighters and destroying two of them. Tactical
readouts that did NOT show the remaining TIE fighters fleeing for orbit.

Piggy picked up where he had left off, "Now, let's have a go at
something with a little more resemblance to the truth shall we?"

Brad opened his mouth, closed it, started to speak again and then
stopped - staring at the blaster still held firmly in Piggy's grip.

"C'mon Brad it isn't that difficult. Tell us what you've been doing on
these clandestine trips of yours, and we can see about forgetting about
the whole situation." Despite Nick's conciliatory tone, there was
nothing particularly friendly about the direction his blaster was
pointing.

"Of course, if you _don't_ tell us what we want to know, we'll have to
assume that music in your cockpit is significant. We would have to make
... other arrangements. We have questions. We expect you to answer
them." Piggy's tone was as dark, ominous and foreboding as they come.
"Let's start with an easy one. Where did you get that B-wing?"

"I bought it. Look, aren't you two being a little melodramatic here? I
mean Josh took off and you barely batted an eyelid. What have I done to
deserve this?"

Nick smirked. "You mean, apart from lying through your teeth?"

Brad grimaced, but didn't press the point in the face of two blaster
pistols.

"All you have to do is answer the questions. If you haven't done
anything we'd object to, how can that be a problem? Now then, how did
you a) gain access to a top-grade military fighter and b) afford it." As
he asked the question, Piggy ticked the two points off on his stubby
fingers.

"It wasn't really that hard you know. I mean, even though Terra isn't
officially known to the New Republic, there is still _some_ contact. I
mean, look at Emily and Alison's ...ummm... business." Brad suddenly
realised that Rent-a-Rogue was probably _not_ the best example to use
around a Wraith. "Anyway, I got lucky - the right opportunity came along
and I was in a position to take it. I thought you wanted to know where
I'd been. What the hell is all this in aid of?"

"Where did the money come from?" Brad's protests had as much effect on
Piggy as they would have had on a brick.

"Lots of places. I inherited a bit from a few different relatives, I had
a few investments of my own, work was paying well. Sure it was a huge
expense - almost wiped me out financially - but how could I pass up the
opportunity to own a genuine B-Wing starfighter? But why are you asking
me all of this stuff? You could find out quicker from the computer."

Piggy smiled. "Smart of you to realise that. You must have had some
rather wealthy relatives."

Brad cocked his head to one side, apparently still slightly bemused by
the line of questioning. "Yeah, they were pretty well off. They didn't
have any kids of their own though - amazing how well a favoured nephew
can do in that situation."

"Well now, that _is_ interesting. Of course, even more interesting is
the fact that there is absolutely no way on this planet that those
estates could legitimately have provided the sums of money that you
received."

The expression on Brad's face appeared genuinely puzzled. "What are you
trying to say?"