Project Boussh: Epilogue: Gonad and Strife
by Josh Nolan

What was wrong with everyone tonight?

Had no-one noticed?

Bror had destroyed an *entire squadron* single-handed out there this
afternoon.  He had scored more kills than anyone save Wedge and Tycho -
even beating out Corran Horn by two.  He'd even crippled one of the
fighter bays on the Inexorable with a well-placed torpedo.  But aside
from a quick 'well done' from Wedge, no-one else had even commented on
it.

It was probably because they were Rogues.  It had probably gone out of
fashion for them to laud their competent pilots.  The Terrans - well,
the inhabitants of this backwater could hardly be expected to know what
it took to be a great pilot.  They probably accorded Bror's success to
sheer chance - as if the worst pilots all *chose* to take on a pilot as
obviously skilled as he was.

Still, it irked him that everyone seemed to consider that Terran pilot
the hero of the hour.  What had he done?  Flown close to a few mines.
With his astromech there to catch his fall.  How so very impressive.
Bror could have done as well in a Y-Wing with his eyes closed and his
astromech deactivated.

Still, Bror had to give the primitive some credit.  It wasn't like he'd
flown anything nearly as sophisticated as a starfighter before.  And, of
course, the idea simply hadn't occurred to Bror.  But still... a *whole
squadron*, and no-one noticed.  There was no justice.

Oh, well.  There was nothing for it but to have a few drinks, and maybe
later in the evening someone would remember.  It wasn't proper to brag.

********

Bror truly did detest these sorts of gatherings.  Here he was, simply
trying to get to the bar to sample another of this planet's alcoholic
concoctions, but he was unable to get through.  All right, it was
perfectly reasonable for a pilot to try and impress women with tales of
his prowess.  At least when Bror did it, he deigned to let others access
the bar.

"And there I was," the pilot was saying, "caught between Lord Thayer and
his pursuer.  If I were to move out his line of fire, I would expose
Lord Thayer.  What was I to do?"

"Jink," interposed Bror.  "Make yourself a difficult target.  Call your
wing.  Tell Grace Lead to break one direction while you draw the pursuer
off in the other so your wing can vape it.  Does any of this sound
familiar?"

The pilot held up a finger.  "Aaah, but that's just what he would have
been expecting -"

"Yes, because it's the sensible course of action.  It's the method that
would give you the least chance to be killed and the most chance of
saving your squadronmates.  Are you sure you're even a pilot?"

The pilot stood from his barstool and drew himself to his full height.
"Sirrah, my name is Anaugi S'Ics, and I have the honour of flying with
Grace Squadron, Mendellia's elite fighting force!"

"Not for much longer, if your tactics are anything to go by," Bror
observed.  "Now close your mouth and cease bothering this woman.  It's
clear your prattle bores her."

"Prattle?!" exclaimed Anaugi.  "Sir, I find your manner rude and your
opinions snide.  I would have your name, sir, so that I may teach you
some manners in a duel!"

"My name is Bror Jace, and I am from Thyferra.  I am merely trying to
have a drink so that I can enjoy myself, but I find your empty-headed
mouthings have deprived me of that luxury."  Bror sneered.  "I accept
your challenge.  This is a boring party anyway."

"Very well, sir.  You may choose your weapons."

"X-Wings."

Anaugi's expression froze at that.  "E... X-Wings?" the Mendellian
managed.  "To the death?"

"No, powered-down weapons.  I have killed enough people today, and
X-Wings are expensive."

"Very well... you have a second?"

"Yes.  Do you?"

"Of course.  A gentleman is always prepared, not that I expect you to
understand that.  I shall meet you in the hangar in -" the Mendellian
glanced at his watch - "three hours."

"Good.  Now let me get my drink."

Anaugi glared at Bror, then stalked off into the crowd.  Bror threw a
winning smile at the woman, who only frowned at him.  Shrugging, he
looked away, trying to attract the attention of the bartender.

************

As Bror was grumpily making his way over to the stairs, someone emerged
from behind a corner and jostled his drink, causing much of it to
spill.  Bror whipped his head around to see another Mendellian pilot,
raising his hands in a conciliatory fashion.

"My apologies, sir!  I am afraid I failed to see you there, and I
apologise for my clumsiness."

"Apology accepted," nodded Bror, then regarded the pilot's face more
keenly.  "I think I recognise you.  Have we met before?"

"I would not go so far as to say we've *met*," the Mendellian allowed.
"My name is Kwah S'Newrom, and I had the misfortune to be disabled early
in the battle today."

Bror cocked his head.  "I think I remember.  You were the one who dodged
into that ion blast, didn't you?"

"'Twas I."

"You know, if you want to sit a fight out, it's far more effective to
let an actual pilot fly your fighter than depriving your squadron of
it."

"Excuse me?"

"I understand the nerves of flying in a battle, but there was no call to
be disabled that far away from the Admonitor.  I mean, it's not like ion
blasts move that quickly - even an unskilled pilot can avoid them at
that range."

"What are you saying, sir?  That I am an incompetent pilot?"

"No, I choose to believe better than that of you.  I think you had
second thoughts about fighting.  And that ion blast was too tempting a
way out."

Kwah's face turned purple, and he began to splutter.  "You dare... I've
never...  How..."

"It happens.  I won't tell anyone."

"SIR!"  Kwah finally managed. "You have impugned my courage.  I
challenge you to a duel, this very night!"

Bror sighed and rolled his eyes.  "I choose X-Wings.  Powered down
weapons.  I have a second."

"Very well!  You shall pay for your ill-mannered presumptions.  I shall
meet you in the hangar two hours hence!"

Bror sighed and checked his chrono.  "I'll see if I can fit you in," he
replied.  Kwah gave an incoherent cry of rage, turned and stormed away.

*********

The same woman was still sitting at the bar, and yet another Mendellian
pilot was trying in vain to win on to her.  Bror scowled.  These
Mendellian pilots were really beginning to annoy him.

Bror pushed his way in behind the pilot, who was saying something about
stealing stars and placing them in someone's eyes.  Bror glanced at the
woman, who seemed suitably unimpressed, and then spoke.  "I suggest you
leave the seduction for those who are skilled at it, boy."  At the sound
of his voice, the woman glanced up at him, then immediately turned away
in disgust.

The pilot turned around.  "I pray that you do not pry into other's
personal affairs, sir."

"Not all prayers are answered, boy."

"My name is Niugnep S'Ylime, sir."

"Is that a name, or a disease?"

"Are you mocking me, sir?"

"No, I'm serious.  Is that a name or a disease?"

The woman's disdain cracked then, as she began to giggle despite
herself.  Bror flashed his best winning grin at her, but Niugnep jumped
to intercept it.  "The name of S'Ylime is a name unsurpassed in honour
and loyalty!  S'Ylimes have served the Dictator faithfully for
centuries!"

"Oh, so it's hereditary, then."

"I will not stand here and listen to you insult my family's honour!"

"Good.  I'm starting to tire of your smell."

"SIR!  You are an oaf and a cad, sir, and I call upon you to prove
yourself in the field of honour!  Choose your weapons!"

"X-Wings, powered-down.  It so happens that I'm taking an X-Wing out for
a spin in a few hours - would you care to have your duel then?"

"Very well - have your second meet mine to arrange the time!"

"And your second is...?"

"Anaugi S'ics, of Grace Squadron!  Failing that, my friend Kwah
S'Norwem!"

Bror blinked.  "I... believe that will not be a problem."

********

Koyi looked over the edge of the S-foil at Cubber.  "Power ratings
check.  Systems are green."

Cubber nodded.  "Right."  He looked at Bror.  "Four starfighters good to
go.  We've got the lasers throttled back to minimum power and the
torpedo racks have paint-rounds only.  That makes -" he examined his
datapad - "a crate of Whyren's Reserve between Koyi and me, a lum
brewery kit for me, and you're picking up the tab for Koyi's next dinner
for two on Coruscant."

"Yes," said Bror impatiently.  "I know the terms, Daine.  I offered
them, after all."

"Just restating them for the record, Jace."

"But you still owe us, Jace," added Koyi, lowering herself from the
S-foil.  "That Terran actor was really nice."

Cubber laughed.  "I think he has his eye on a homeworld lass, Koyi."

Koyi glared at him, which only sent the Corellian tech into more
laughter.

"Charming," said Bror flatly.  "Thank you for your work tonight.  I
trust you have some R2 units standing by?"

No sooner had the words been spoken as a group of six astromech droids,
including Bror's R2 Vratix, rolled into the hangar, tooting and
beeping.  "They're not going to be happy," warned Koyi, trying
unsuccessfully to keep a straight face.  "We had to break up their
sabacc game.  You might have to bribe 'em with an oil bath."

At the last two words, the astromechs all turned their visual sensors
towards Bror and began bleeping angrily.  Bror sighed.

*******

Noreh watched as the three headstrong Graces met in a group.  She
marvelled at the looks of resolute anger that decorated their faces -
around her, they always made sure that they were smiling.  Well, that
arrogant alien had certainly given her one thing - a glance into the
character of a few of the pilots who pursued her.

She sipped her riesling, savouring the fruity flavours that danced
across her tongue, when someone pressed past her to the bar.  "Hey,
barkeepin' dude!" called the newcomer in a resonant baritone voice.
"We, like, totally need two bottles of Jack Daniel's black stuff, and a
bunch of shot glasses would be cool, too."

Noreh looked up in curiosity at the speaker, and the first thing she saw
was his expansive grin.  The second thing she saw was a pair of horns
emerging from his forehead.  She realised with a jolt that this man was
not human.

This lithe, hard-bodied, handsome man, with eyes that flashed of fire...

The alien felt her eyes upon him, and flashed a grin full of fangs at
her.  "Hey, babe," he said.  "Like, me and some friends are doing a bit
of drinking.  It'd be totally cool if you wanted to join in."

His grin was infectious, and Noreh needed very little convincing.  "Of
course," she said, downing the last of her wine.

The Mendellian pilots would still be here tomorrow.  This horned man
from the stars would not...

********

Bror crouched over Vratix's hologram, studying the weather patterns with
the eye of an aerospace pilot, when the Graces finally burst into the
hangar.  "Bror Jace!" called out Anaugi, "Your time has come!"

Bror looked up.  "How are you, gentlemen?  Ready to fly?"  He glanced at
Kwah.  "Reinforced your courage, I hope?"  He looked back down as Kwah's
face began to burn red.  "I trust by now that you have realised that you
*all* have a match with me.  What say we make it interesting?"

Niugnep stepped forward, eyes blazing.  "A duel is a duel, sir - we are
not about to gamble on a contest of honour!"

Bror looked up, frowning.  Then realisation dawned, and he grinned.  "No
wager, Slime.  What I meant was I believe I can turn this into almost a
fair fight."  Bror stood and gestured at the hologram.  "None of you
have a chance against me. You have not flown X-Wings before.  So I
propose the following conditions.

"First, the three of you fly against me together."  He glanced at
Anaugi.  "This gives you a chance to use teamwork.  Do you think you're
up to that?"  Anaugi glared back at him, and Bror grinned smugly.

"Second, we begin the contest here."  He gestured at the hologram, and
Vratix obligingly zoomed in on the area Bror had indicated, revealing a
mass of flickering cloud moving slowly across the ocean.  "This
thunderstorm is a natural hazard - it will disadvantage a single fighter
more than it will disadvantage three."

Bror then turned and walked over to the gathered astromechs.  "Third, we
disable the sensor feeds to the HUD.  We give our astromechs the
authority to steer us out of collisions, but if a fighter does so it is
out of the match.  Our targeting sensors will still work - but
otherwise, we will be flying blind.  Skill on skill alone."

The Graces looked at each other, then simultaneously nodded.  "We accept
your terms," Kwah said haughtily.  "Skill on skill alone."

Bror smiled unpleasantly.  "Of course, that stipulation is why this can
never be a fair contest.  Vratix is my second - I will fly with him.
You may choose your astromechs."

Niugnep frowned.  "It is most irregular to take one's second into a
duel..." he said doubtfully.

"You three are doing so, I take it."

The Graces went into a brief huddle, muttering to each other.  Then Kwah
disengaged and walked over to the nearest astromech - Gate, Wedge's R5.
Kwah placed his hand on Gate's head and said, "We are agreed - we
jointly name this astromech droid our second.  We cannot take him out
with us."  He smiled smugly at Bror.  "You cannot take your second,
either.  They must stay here and mind that we conduct ourselves
fairly."  Gate blatted rudely at the Mendellian in response.

Bror glanced at Vratix, who tootled noncomittally.  Bror strode over to
an unfamiliar R7 unit and placed his hand on it.  "I will fly with this
one."  The R7 unit let out a noise that sounded almost like a whoop.
"Let's launch."

********

"So, droid, what's your name?"  Bror asked as he ran through the
pre-flight checks.

The droid tootled, and the translation appeared on his screen.  In the
unreadable alphabet that most Basic speakers on this backwater seemed to
use.

"Translation in Aurebesh, please," Bror growled.  "I can't read that
junk."

The translation changed itself - it now read HYPER.

"Thank you.  Are you looking forward to this, Hyper?"

The droid responded with a high-pitched squeal.  WHEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Bror shook his head.  "I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered to
himself, and commenced ignition.

*********

The cloud formation had looked like a toy in Vratix's hologram.  But now
Bror was actually approaching it, it looked mammoth - twice as large as
a Star Destroyer and every inch as majestic, the lightning flickering
within a testament to its awesome power.  He had always enjoyed
thunderstorms, and it was good to see this planet could get *something*
right.  He glanced over his shoulder at the three X-Wings tailing his,
and clicked on his comm.  "Gonad One here.  Hostilities shall begin
sixty seconds after my mark.  Are we agreed?"

"Grace Six agrees,"  Niugnep reported.

"Grace Seven agrees," added Anaugi.

"Grace Ten agrees," finished Kwah.

"Very well."  The edge of the clouds loomed up before Bror, and just
before they swallowed him, he said, "Mark."  Then the storm had him.

Bror broke left, away from the Graces, and climbed through the banked-up
cloud.  A bolt of lightning speared its way across his path as he began
to corkscrew, the better to catch a glimpse of any pursuers.

He saw none.  The Graces were going to play it like this, were they?

He continued flying erratically through the clouds, every so often
doubling back on his own path to surprise any Graces pursuing him, but
they seemed to be avoiding him until the sixty seconds were up.

HOSTILITIES BEGIN, bleeped Hyper.  WE'RE GOING TO FIGHT!  WHEEEEEE!

Bror pulled back on his stick, looping his fighter around into a dive.
He kept his head moving, looking for any signs of the other
starfighters, but the lightning kept drawing his attention.  He ducked
as a scarlet lightning bolt screamed past his cockpit, and kept
looking.  There was another flash, and another, when Bror finally
realised that lightning wasn't red - he was being fired upon!

He quickly levelled out and rolled his starfighter through a tight loop,
bringing him out side-on to a diving X-Wing.  Bror fired a dual-linked
burst, bracketing the slender craft, and it veered off away from the
Thyferran, still diving for the ocean.  Bror began to fall in behind it,
and was dazzled by a flash of lightning carried along the fighter's ion
trail.  Flying blind in more ways than one, he yanked the stick to his
right and began evasive maneuvers until his sight cleared.  "Damage
report!" he yelled.

SHIELDS HOLDING, NO DAMAGE, Hyper reported.  JUST DON'T FLY US INTO ANY
MORE OF THEM, PLEASE?

"I'll try," muttered Bror, snapping his head back and forth, trying to
reacquire his target.

THE OTHER ASTROMECHS SAY I SHOULDN'T ADD THAT TO EXCERCISE DAMAGE.  IS
THAT OKAY?

"Yes.  Whatever makes you happy."

THAT WAS FUN, THOUGH!  WHEEEEEEEE!

There was another lightning flash, shining an actinic blue in the
darkness.  Hyper squealed tremulously, and Bror decided that the
electrical activity up here was a little too busy.  He aimed his
fighter's nose for the ocean.

When he broke out of the clouds, he realised two things - one, that it
was raining heavily, which disrupted his vision through the canopy, and
two, the Mendellians were waiting for him.  His field of view went red
with shield-scatter, and he began testing the limits of his craft's
inertial compensator as he tried to wind his way out of the crossfire.

He was out.  And he was on the tail of one of the Graces - Grace Six,
his display reported.  That would be Niugnep, then.  Bror quad-linked
his lasers, and commenced firing.

The Mendellians were not very well-trained.  It appeared they had only
been taught to fly TIE fighters - and then, only in atmosphere.
Niugnep's evasive maneuvers made it clear - he used hardly any lateral
motions at all - so Bror lined his shot up, and his quad-burst smashed
into the Grace's tail.

And then the Grace was out of Bror's field of view, and another X-Wing
was coming head-to-head, bathing Bror's forward shield in crimson
light.  Bror snapped off another quad-burst and veered to his right,
desperately transferring power to keep his shields up, and ignoring the
squeals from his astromech.

"This is Grace Six," came Niugnep's mournful voice.  "I fear this craft
is not as maneuverable as the TIE fighter - my droid had to drag me out
of a collision with Grace Seven.  By the rules of this duel, I am
defeated."

"Good job, Grace Six," Bror replied distractedly, trying to find where
his opponents were hiding.  "And a good job to Grace Seven on that
head-to-head."

"Thank you, sirrah."

Bror glanced up at his shield display.  Even with dumping virtually all
of the energy from his lasers' capacitors into his shields, they were
still reading ninety-three percent.  "Hyper, did we receive damage from
that last pass?"

NO REAL DAMAGE, Hyper began.

"I want to know about the excercise, dammit!"

STARBOARD PROTON TORPEDO LAUNCH BAY DISABLED.  'REPAIR' IS IMPOSSIBLE
UNTIL THIS EXCERCISE ENDS.  ISN'T THIS EXCITING?

Bror swore, and transferred more energy into his shields.  "While you're
up there, Hyper, can you give me any pointers on where the others are?
I haven't been able to see them."

Hyper tootled an affirmative, and an arrow appeared on Bror's HUD,
indicating down to port.  "Thanks," Bror muttered, and twisted his craft
to face the enemy.

Who were fleeing.  They were flying low, over the ocean, and were it not
for the clouds of spray the two X-Wings were dragging up in their wake,
it was unlikely Bror would be able to see them at all.  He dropped his
fighter to the deck, lit his repulsorlifts and punched the throttle.

Flying in the Mendellian's wake was tricky, since visibility was reduced
to near-zero.  On the plus side, there was no chance the Mendellians
could see him, either, since his engines were facing away from the
fleeing fighters.  Once they decided to begin looking for him again,
Bror would have cover and a few second's notice.

Bror's X-Wing bounced up suddenly as its repulsors encountered a
high-crest wave, and suddenly Bror could see where his quarry was
heading - they were nearly back to Mendellia, with the lights dotted
around the High Palace acting as their beacon.  Bror decided to level
off where he was - slightly above the vapour cloud - and switched to
proton torpedoes.

"Hyper, are the usual missile lock alarms functional?"

OF COURSE.  THEY WERE NEVER SPECIFIED TO BE DISABLED.

"All right then."  Bror drifted to starboard, until he was no longer
over the cloud, and carefully lined a shot up.  He mapped it out in his
mind, added a fudge factor for wind and relative air-speed.  He nudged
his targeting reticule a little ahead of the fighter, drew a deep
breath, held it, released it and squeezed the trigger.

TORPEDO AWAY!  WHEEEEEEEEE!

"Gonad One, this is Grace Seven.  If you are wondering where we are, we
are heading back towards the High Palace, the better to display your
humiliation to your peers.  By all means, follow us, and prepare to face
your -" The transmission fuzzed with static for a moment, and when it
returned, Anaugi was shouting.  "-scurvy dog, where in the seven hells
did that come from!?  Lucifer's black bones!  Boil my bollocks in oil,
I'm in the red!"

"I accept your invitation, Grace Seven."  Bror triggered a quad-laser
burst, which caught the paint-covered X-Wing just above the astromech.
"Oh - but you're no longer in the match, are you?"

Kwah's X-Wing bounced up from the deck and began spiralling towards the
Palace.  As Bror shot off in pursuit, Anaugi grudgingly admitted, "That
was exceptional shooting, Gonad One.  I bow to your skill."

"Acknowledged, Grace Seven."  Bror was trying to catch Kwah, but with
power still diverted to charging his lasers, his top speed was less than
the Mendellian's.  Still, once the pilot reached the palace, speed would
count for less than skill - and there, Bror would have him.

Kwah began winding his way through the spires of the High Palace, Bror
only a few hundred metres behind him.  Bror snapped off a few single
shots at the Mendellian, to no avail, his powered-down blasts merely
scorching the Palace's stonework.  The X-Wings screamed over the main
courtyard where the party was being held, Bror doing a slight
wing-waggle as he passed.  Bror switched to torpedos, trying to get a
lock, but the Mendellian was too canny to allow the Thyferran's reticule
to turn red.

As the Mendellian flew parallel to one of the battlements, Bror spied a
small gathering in the light from Kwah's engines.  As Bror approached,
one of them turned around and dropped his pants, exposing his buttocks
to the Thyferran.  Bror gawked, unable to believe that someone would be
so crass as to *actually*...

Hyper screeched a lock warning and there was a faint clang on the
X-Wing's hull as an opaque cloud sprang up around the fighter's canopy.
Bror looked up at his shield reading and saw that it was gone.  "Hyper -
damage report!"

WE GOT NAILED WITH A TORP.  WE'RE VIRTUAL DEBRIS.  AND HERE WAS I
THINKING YOU WERE A *GOOD* PILOT.

"I... but... did you see..."

"Gonad One, this is Grace Ten.  Well flown, sir.  It has been an honour
to duel with one of your skill.  I do hope this settles our
disagreement."

Bror shot a glance at the wall, now long behind him, and scowled.  "It
is settled, Grace Ten.  Congratulations.  I shall meet you back at the
hangar."

********

Bror jumped down from his X-Wing's S-Foil, and nodded to the Graces who
were doing the same.  "Well flown, gentlemen," he said, swallowing his
pride.  "I was wrong to underestimate you."

The Graces made similar noises at Bror, but the Thyferran paid no
attention.  The *humiliation*, brought low by a trio of backwater
savages!  And whoever that was who...

"Ahem."

Bror snapped out from his simmering to see a familiar figure leaning
against the droid crane.  The brown-haired pilot stood, drawing himself
to his full height.

"Just what did you think you were doing, Bror?"  asked Wedge.
"Borrowing starfighters without permission.  Loaning them out to pilots
without even any sim-time in X-Wings.  Drawing me away from my wife and
a party.  How do you propose to explain this?"

Bror looked back and forth between Wedge, the Graces, Gate and Vratix.
"Uh..." he began, and knew immediately that he was doomed.


--
"Always - always remember... Less is less, more is more,
more is better, and twice as much is good too.
Not enough is bad, and too much is never enough except
when it's just about right."
  - The Tick.



Terra Group - defending the Earth from our own imaginations. 

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