Project Boussh: Interview With An Atner by Josh Nolan Kirret Xarim stood on the parapet, staring out to sea. The early morning sea-breeze was not bringing the smells she was used to, of salt and sand and surf, but of fire, smoke and death. She watched the flames dance on the ocean, watched the ships spraying foam over the fire, but it had spread very far, and the ships had much more work ahead of them. Around her, more smoke was rising from the few fires left in the High Palace, and sporadic firing could be heard from the city around it as the Resistance tried to clear the last few pockets of Imperial diehards. Though the morning was warm, Kirret shuddered. She had seen the body of Eugor Atner being carried from his chambers, and had taken the opportunity to spit in the corpse's face. The memory cheered her not at all, since the murderous pig had not been alive to experience it. The knowledge that Eugor was dead should have been a joyous occasion, but the wreckage that the morning sun revealed mirrored the wreckage the usurper had made of her life. She heard a light footfall behind her, and a man's voice spoke. "Kir?" Thayer's voice was as melodious as ever, his deep concern for her resounding even through that single syllable. Without speaking a word, she turned and embraced him fiercely. "Kir?" Thayer asked again, more out of surprise this time. The uncertainty that such a simple action produced in Thayer actually brought a chuckle out of Kirret, the first she could remember in quite a number of years. The first since Eugor Atner killed her father. The memory, coupled with the realisation that it was all over, overwhelmed Kirret and brought her to tears. "Kir?" asked Thayer a third time, completely bewildered by now, so Kirret tried to speak. "Eugor -" She broke off, not knowing how to phrase it. "The ocean -" Again, she broke off. "Reth -" Her grasp of language, always so firm, had deserted her entirely. Thayer took hold of her shoulders and looked her in the eye, a slight twinkle dancing in his own. "If I know Reth, he's coming up with some way of making you glad to be my new Minister of State." Kirret flushed, looked away and looked back at Thayer. "I - I'm honoured," she croaked. "Thayer, I've got something to tell you... about me and Reth." "I don't believe so, Kir," Thayer said, smiling. "You've made your feelings for Reth clear enough." Kirret uttered a disbelieving laugh, and turned away to face the burning sea. "It's been so long, not knowing if either of us will survive..." She turned back to Thayer. "I've been in the revenge business so long, I don't know any other way to live." Thayer gave his longtime friend a firm hug. "Then this morning is a time for new beginnings. Reth seems to keep running into countrymen that were formerly in the employ of the Empire who keep falling over themselves to surrender to him." He released Kirret, and said, "I suspect he would like the opportunity to do the same to you." ******** Josh stomped grumpily up the stairs - it really hadn't been his morning. Oh, sure, there had been the whole storming the palace bit, and he was still alive, so he couldn't really complain - it just seemed since Eugor Atner had swallowed a blaster bolt, everyone and everything had decided to start gunning for him, instead. It would have been bad enough if his troubles were confined to that stupid nickname Face had been spreading around, with the gleeful help of Becki and Emily. Even Ooryl had called him Crispy when he'd tried to say hello. But, of course, it wasn't just raining, it was pouring. He'd tried talking to Sharon about her mishap with Emily, but she'd just withdrawn and refused to talk, and he couldn't think of anything to draw her out. He'd asked Corran to have a chat to her - it seemed to be a hobby of his, and maybe a Jedi could figure out how to make her feel better about it. Josh was on too little sleep and too much stale adrenaline to have that kind of patience. And then, naturally, Kristy had decided to start haranguing him. Blah blah blah, no right to take the risks he did, blah blah blah, sucidial idiot, blah blah blah, what was he thinking, blah blah blah, Stupid Boy Plan, blah blah blah, tried to shoot Face, blah blah blah, where the hell did he disappear to, blah blah blah, how come he's got a lightsabre and she doesn't, blah blah blah, don't try and bluff your way out with your accent, boyo, blah, blah, blah, and you do know you stink to high heaven, right? In trying to escape from the ear-bashing, he'd gone and tried to have a shower, but had found that his shirt had decided to bond with his torso over his left ribs, and had torn a huge patch of skin off when he'd removed it. Of course, he only discovered this after a few minutes in the shower, when he'd started to wonder why the water going down the drain was a funny colour. The wound had begun to sting abominably almost immediately afterwards. One of the medics sealed up the wound with a bacta patch, but Josh had forgotten about his cracked rib. When he'd made a noise at the patch being secured, the poor medic had acted so frightened of Josh that he'd wanted to shake the man's shoulders and scream at him that there was no reason to be frightened. Josh was still awake enough that he'd recognised the flaw in this plan, so he'd bit down his irritation. When he tried to secure a replacement shirt, he'd found that there was only one shirt available. Apparently, there had been an attempt at a 'Bad Shirt Day' some months previously, which management had managed to stop before it started. However, someone had brought an awful day-glo chatreuse-and-violet Hawaiian shirt, and no-one had claimed ownership at the end of the day. Unfortunately, but somehow inevitably, it fit Josh perfectly. Kristy had been waiting to give him another ear-bashing after this, only now she started criticising his taste in clothes as well. He'd lost his temper and yelled at her to stop it, but that had only made her all the more determined to point out just how much of a typical male he was being, and how ashamed he should be. He'd gotten away from her by the simple expedient of helping to heft Hobbie into bacta, then legging it the moment the pilot was in the tank and her back was turned. Now he was tired, his latest bacta patch was still smelling of what Becki had dubbed 'Eau de Klivian' and if he stood still for long enough, the Prophetess would find him and rant his ears off. He needed some fresh air. He finally reached the top of the stairs and walked out onto the sunlit battlement. Almost immediately, he caught sight of a pair of people having an intensely intimate discussion, so he turned on his heel to head back inside, hoping he hadn't interrupted. "Who's there?" called Kirret, and Josh froze. Too late. Bugger. He turned back around with a sheepish grin on his face, and completely failed to recognise the man Kirret was talking to. He waved anyway, and said, "Hi, Kirret. Um, I was just after a bit of fresh air, and, um, I can see you're busy, so, ah, I'll just..." "Don't go," said Kirret, with an expression on her face that wasn't a frown - for Kirret, she was practically beaming. "Josh, I want you to meet the noblest man I know - Thayer Atner, the rightful Dictator of Mendellia. Thayer - this is Terra Five, who assures me that he's called Josh when he's not killing people." Thayer's face broke out into a broad grin. "Ah! You must be the one they call Crispy!" Inwardly, Josh winced. "I understand you and your Ewoks were instrumental in breaking the forces loyal to my despicable uncle. The nation of Mendellia owes you a debt of gratitude for your valiant deeds this day." In spite of his mood, Josh found himself wanting to like Thayer. From anybody else, that speech may have sounded formulaic or forced, but Thayer made it sound like it was the uppermost thing in his mind. But both Josh and Macchiavelli knew that fake sincerity was a very useful attribute for a ruler. Josh bowed with an ironic flourish, and said, "I'm overwhelmed." He straightened and looked pointedly at the burning ocean, and a few of the nearby coastal settlements, then back at Thayer. "It looks like you're going to have a whole heap of cleaning up to do." Thayer smiled ruefully, and his gaze was drawn to a ship trying to squeeze the last of its foam onto the burning oil. "Even from beyond the grave, it would seem my uncle is trying to blot Mendellia from the face of this small planet." Thayer closed his eyes, and shook his head. "But we will be stronger than that. Under my rule, Mendellia shall become a paradise, a place where all shall be free and happy, where none shall starve, where no crime shall go unpunished." Thayer opened his eyes, smiling beatifically at Josh. The smile faded into puzzlement as Thayer studied Josh's scowl. "But the only way it can happen is if you get all the power, right?" Josh asked, not bothering to conceal his mood now. "How *dare* you speak to Thayer like that?!" demanded Kirret, squeezing Thayer close. "If you only knew him, you would know him to be a kind, just, honest man, the best man that Mendellia has ever produced! He is the only possible choice for Dictator! How dare you imply that his only goal is the accumulation of power, that... he is no better than his accursed uncle! How *dare you!" She trailled off with a wordless exclamation of rage, her Irish eyes fixed on Josh's as if trying to tear his head off with her gaze. Josh's eyes blazed in response. "I dare because I have the blood of several hundred of his countrymen - or should that be 'subjects'? - on my hands. I can't even begin to think of the suffering that their families'll have to face when they find out. They died so Thayer could get the throne - is that somehow supposed to make it all okay? 'Children, Daddy's not coming home any more, but that's all right because the rightful ruler's on the throne'? They were defending their homeland against a bunch of invaders, and their families are supposed to dance on their graves? That's how I dare! I want to know that we haven't just replaced one tinpot dictator with another one who just *seems* nicer! Is that all right with you?" Josh snorted. "It's not like I buy this whole 'true king' crap anyway." Kirret and Josh faced off for a few seconds, Kirret struggling against Thayer's suddenly tight grip, and Josh wondering if he'd made any sense at all. Finally, Thayer spoke. "I can see your problem, Josh, and believe me, it's mine as well." Kirret relaxed her struggle, and Josh broke the staring match to look Thayer in the eye. Thayer continued, "I always knew that when the revolution came, Eugor would have cronies that were better off dead. Retsim, for one, was a very nasty piece of work, and several of the thugs he had surrounded himself with. I was always hoping that we'd perhaps be able to stage a bloodless revolution, save for those few. But Eugor forced our hand, and my people will suffer for it yet. I know this, and it does not please me - my uncle's ghost has not yet faded from these shores, and it will be years at the minimum before we banish it forever." Thayer had been looking Josh in the eye throughout this speech, but the intensity of his gaze now made it seem as if he had been staring in the opposite direction. "I don't know whether you take me for an idealistic fool or a manipulative despot, but I take great exception to either one. In the years I have spent in the Resistance, I have come to know what it's like to live outside these walls. I know how my people work in this world. I know what responsibilities I have to my people, I know what my deposing Eugor has cost them, and believe me when I say I know a hawk from a handsaw." The intensity faded, and Thayer continued, "What my uncle did shall never be allowed to happen again. I intend to use my office as Dictator to rebuild this land as quickly as I can, and then..." Thayer looked out to sea again, where a new shift of ships was taking up the burden of fighting the fires. "Then, I hope to rebuild the office itself into something that will face the twenty-first century. My uncle's brand of evil shall be extinguished forever." Josh nodded slowly. "Thanks. That's pretty much what I wanted to hear. After all, if someone like your uncle does seize power again, it's going to be the Mendellian people who will have to pay the price again. I apologise if I insulted you." Thayer nodded, and smiled. "It is reassuring that the allies I chose care enough even about their enemies. Mendellia will always welcome representatives of the New Republic." "As for the caring, I guess I had some good teachers. As for the welcome, well, thanks." Josh glanced at Kirret, then back at Thayer, then back at Kirret again. "But, I think, I should leave you two alone." "No need," said Thayer. "Kirret, Becki and I were going to find Reth. Would you care to join us?" "Becki?" Josh asked, looking around, finally spotting the young woman standing a fair distance down the battlement, leaning against the wall, her eyes shut. An orange cat was winding its way around her shins, but she didn't seem to notice. "No thanks," said Josh eventually. "I, uh, have more pressing things to do. So I'll see you later." He ran off down the battlement, waking Becki briefly when he hollered a greeting. Somehow, the orange cat had managed to disappear in the meantime. Becki blinked against the glare of Josh's shirt, and looked at the two Mendellians as they approached her. "Was that Crispy?" she asked blearily, forcing herself to balance on two feet. "It was," confirmed Kirret, "and if I were him, I would shoot his tailor." "Come now," said Thayer, unsuccessfully deadpan. "This is the new Mendellia. Such things will not happen any more." "Thayer," said Kirret with an almost-smile, "it is a fitting punishment for such a crime against good taste. I would sooner go naked than wear that monstrosity." Thayer grinned. "I'm sure Reth would be overjoyed to hear it." Kirret sighed. "Why do I suddenly have the presentiment that my wardrobe will soon sport many such items?" Thayer did not reply - he merely offered his arm to Becki, and together, the three of them walked off in search of Reth.