Project Boussh: Most Important Meal of the Day
by Durandir

It was just after daybreak in Mendellia. Beaches, rivers, 
mountaintops, Palaces glittered in the early morning sunlight, 
flooding Sharon with relief. It was good to be home. It was a bit 
strange, perhaps, to be thinking of Mendellia as home already...yet, 
even though it was only yesterday that she'd decided to remain here 
as liaison between Terra and the New Republic, the island was growing 
on her.

A light footfall from behind her reminded Sharon that others in the 
shuttle would be feeling an even more poignant sense of homecoming at 
the sight of Mendellia. "We're almost there, your Highness," she 
said, half-turning to catch a glimpse of the stately figure behind 
her chair.

"Indeed," Llessur Atner replied, her voice betraying no specific 
emotion, her eyes clouded over with memories as she looked down on 
her homeland.

Sharon adjusted the shuttle's course slightly, heading for an open 
area in the Palace grounds, where the Terra Groupers and their allies 
had set up a temporary landing field. "Shall I call ahead," she 
asked, "so they can have a welcoming party ready for you?"

Llessur turned slowly to regard Sharon, her expression still 
unreadable. After a moment, she blinked, then smiled slightly. "Yes. 
That would be the proper way to go about it. I must beg your pardon, 
Miss Kerr; I have gone so long without the formalities of queenship 
that now I hardly remember... Thank you. Yes, make your call; we 
shall prepare for landing."

The Queen slipped back into the passenger section of the shuttle, and 
Sharon reached for the comm unit.

~

For just after daybreak--and taking into account how much had 
happened the previous day, and how little sleep some of the guests 
had gotten--the Palace was unusually wide-awake and alert. The news 
seemed to have spread quickly that breakfast was being served. 
Perhaps it helped that the kitchen Thayer had found for Becki was on 
the same floor as the med bay, where the majority of Team Boussh was 
still camped out. However it was, the two of them had barely finished 
their own first plate of pancakes when the Bousshers, ranging from 
disgustingly perky to nearly somnambulant, had begun wandering in, 
following the smell.

As it was not an overly large kitchen, the group soon outgrew the 
little table and four chairs that stood near the stove, so they set 
up tables in the hall, right outside the kitchen door. Rekla, by 
virtue of being the most energetic person present, was given the task 
of ferrying the stacks of newly cooked pancakes from the kitchen to 
the tables. In between trips, he sat at the kitchen table devouring 
plate after plate of the things, till Becki laughed and remarked upon 
the apparent hollowness of his leg.

Kirret and Reth sat at the kitchen table as well, Reth doing his best 
to keep up with Rekla's appetite, and Kirret drowsily leaning her 
head against his shoulder, protesting that she could not bear even to 
look at a pancake until she was further awake. The fourth chair at 
the table was occupied by Mike, who'd found a laser pointer somewhere 
and was using it to entertain Macavity, dancing the tiny spot of red 
light in front of the cat and then twisting it away again before he 
could pounce. Macavity either thought the game great fun or, at 
least, condescended to cooperate whilst nothing else demanded his 
attention.

And there was, it would seem, no satisfying the hunger of Team Boussh 
this morning. Becki had long since lost count how many pancakes she'd 
made already. As long as there was flour and milk and eggs and 
everything else necessary for the batter, and as long as the sounds 
of hungry Bousshers continued to filter in from the hall, she kept on 
in her role as temporary squadron cook. When ingredients ran low, 
Thayer would disappear to some pantry somewhere and reappear with 
whatever she had need of. In between such errands, he occasionally 
made the rounds of the hallway tables, feeling the duty of a host 
upon him to make his guests welcome. But most of the time he spent 
being as underfoot as possible in the kitchen, hovering anxiously 
near Becki.

At last she paused to kiss away a stray bit of flour from his 
nose. "If you follow me around much longer," she laughed, "we'll have 
to find you an apron."

He didn't seem to take cheer at the idea, gazing down at her 
sorrowfully as she went back to mixing batter. "You don't have to do 
this, you know. I'm sure everyone has had plenty to eat as it is; and 
even if not, the cook--"

"It's all right, Thayer. I don't mind."

"I do," he frowned. "We've hardly had any time to ourselves, and 
now..."

"There'll be plenty of time, when we're done with this rescue mission 
today."

"And that's the worst of it. You make it sound as simple a task 
as...as these pancakes of yours; but you're going up against a Star 
Destroyer! You'll be in extreme danger..."

"And," she grinned impishly, "loving it." Setting down the batter, 
she took his hands and fixed her eyes on him. "You mustn't worry, 
love. I'll return to you. How could I not? How could I possibly let 
myself be killed out there, when I know who's waiting for me here?"

And that, flour or no flour, simply demanded a kiss. The sound of 
Reth clearing his throat in amusement brought them back to awareness 
of the world around them.

"In public, people!" Reth teased, affecting a look of mock 
scorn. "Now what's the world coming to..."

"Let them be, General," Kirret interrupted sleepily, her eyes still 
half-shut. "You're just offended that they've managed to come 
together without your meddling."

"Who's offended?" Reth objected. "Impressed is more like it. He 
doesn't waste time, you know."

Thayer grinned at the teasing, but Becki blushed and backed out of 
his embrace, taking up the mixing bowl again. "Anyway," she said, 
waving around the batter-covered wooden spoon as if to emphasize her 
point, "since there is a mission today, the troops must be fed. Can't 
have our people going into battle on empty stomachs."

"Or without their good-bye kisses," Mike smirked, while Macavity made 
a sudden attempt to ambush the hem of the Brit's long trenchcoat.

"So," Becki continued, ignoring her wingman's comment save for 
another slight blush, "sit down, Thayer, before I trip over you. The 
sooner we get the team fed, the sooner we can go get this rescue over 
with."

Reluctantly, Thayer dropped into the chair that Rekla had earlier 
vacated to go and seek out the Bousshers who had not yet appeared for 
breakfast. Macavity seized that opportunity to appropriate Thayer's 
lap for his own throne; the ginger tabby pushed his head against the 
Dictator's chin with a purr of greeting, then arranged himself into a 
contented lump and promptly fell asleep. Mike, having thus lost his 
playmate, wandered over to glance out the kitchen door, while Becki 
glanced wonderingly, somewhat suspiciously, from her wingmate to her 
cat to her beloved. There was no accounting for Macavity, sometimes...

"Ooh," Mike said suddenly, glancing back toward the others with a 
grin, "here comes trouble. Bantam Squadron has arrived for breakfast."

"Bantam Squadron?" asked Kirret drowsily.

"I'm fairly sure you don't want to know," Thayer grinned.

"And every one of them utterly hungover. Not," Mike winked, "that 
that's any surprise."

"Who is 'Bantam Squadron'?" Kirret insisted, opening her eyes just to 
narrow them at Mike.

"Excuse me," interrupted a new voice: a rather disgruntled Mirax, 
poking her head in at the door. "Would there by any chance be coffee 
available in here?"

"Almost," Becki nodded. "We've gone through several pots of it 
already. The latest is just about done."

"Well," Mirax replied, "when it's done, I have a husband out here--
and several of his co-conspirators--very much in need of it."

"Corran?" Becki asked in confusion.

"And Elassar. I found them in your wine cellar, Thayer. And Pash and 
Face, from the looks of them, were in on it too, though they at least 
didn't apparently spend the night there..."

"Ah," Mike said suddenly, a mischievous light coming into his 
eyes, "maybe I'll just...go and see how Elassar's recovering--" And 
he ducked suddenly out the door.

Mirax shook her head as she looked after the young Terran. "If you 
ever find out what he's up to--don't bother to tell me. I probably 
don't want to know." And then she too headed out the door.

The coffee reached readiness just then. Becki gathered up a handful 
of mugs for the newcomers, took up the coffeepot in her other hand, 
and headed out into the hall, curious to see what was going on.

"I am still wondering," Kirret's voice came persistently from behind 
her, "who is this 'Bantam Squadron'..."

~

Alison had been quietly talking to both Joshes over a stack of 
pancakes when a sudden chorus of moans and whimpers drifted down the 
hall toward the kitchen area. She looked up to see Mirax and Shalla 
dragging a dazed-looking Corran toward the breakfast tables, followed 
by a slightly less dazed Face and Pash, supporting Elassar--the chief 
source of the moans--between them.

Bantam Squadron had arrived to breakfast.

Having settled this lively bunch at an empty table, Mirax ducked into 
the kitchen. Alison shifted uncomfortably in her chair at the sight 
of Face; the memories of what had happened yesterday seemed to settle 
upon her all at once, gnawing at her bellyful of pancakes. As yet he 
didn't seem to have seen her. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or 
upset by that. 

After a moment, Mike emerged from the kitchen and went to help Shalla 
in propping the peculiarly limp Elassar up in his chair. Mirax came 
out a moment later and took her seat next to Corran, who paled at the 
sight of her and dropped his head to his hands, resting his elbows on 
the table. Shalla and Mike had just finished getting Elassar more or 
less stable when Becki, aproned and somewhat flour-dusted, came out 
carrying a coffeepot and mugs.

"Please, kind lady," Elassar groaned, trying to focus bleary eyes on 
Becki as she filled his cup, "kill me now. End my pain."

Becki glanced suspiciously over at Mike. "What'd you do to him?"

"Who, me? He did it to himself," Mike insisted, adopting an innocent 
look not entirely unlike one of Macavity's.

"Please, Mike, dear comrade..." Elassar gasped.

"Sorry, pal," Mike grinned. "Not today."

Becki shook her head and returned to the kitchen, plucking a white 
feather out of her apron pocket with a look of bewilderment. 

Elassar's neck relinquished control of his head just then, and the 
Devaronian slumped forward, just missing his coffee mug. One of the 
Joshes--Crispy--glowered at the scene. "What are the chances the lot 
of them will be conscious when this mission starts?"

"Yeah, well, look at you," Alison shot back with a grin. "You're 
about to fall asleep in your pancakes. You sure *you'll* be conscious 
when it starts?"

Before Crispy could reply, Elassar's head shot up again suddenly, 
staring wild-eyed in their direction. "Lady Sky!" the Devaronian 
pleaded. "Your skill with the sword is well-known. Won't you just 
take my head off now, cleanly, so I won't suffer--"

"Elassar--Will...you...be...quiet..." Corran moaned, and Elassar 
again slumped to the table. But Face, sitting beside him, suddenly 
looked more alert than before. And this time he had seen Alison, when 
Elassar's wild cries had drawn everyone's attention to the 
swordswoman. Chagrin crossed the Wraith captain's face at the sight 
of her, and he glanced away quickly.

Becki's reappearance, carrying yet another stack of pancakes in from 
the kitchen, broke the tension momentarily. Pash and Face were nearly 
sober enough by now to eat; as for Corran, Mirax filled a plate for 
him, determined to make sure he was fed whether he liked it or not. 
Elassar was simply beyond hope for the moment. "You guys need 
something more substantial than coffee," Becki frowned. "Juice, maybe-
-"

"Let me get some for you," Alison interrupted, glad for the 
opportunity to get away from the group--and glad also for the 
opportunity to help, for seeing Face's discomfort was beginning to 
make her miserable herself. She dashed into the kitchen before Becki 
could reply, narrowly missing the icy glare that Kirney threw her 
way, from the table where most of the Wraiths were breakfasting.

Becki shrugged, brushed off another inexplicable feather, and 
followed Alison into the kitchen, wondering why all of "Bantam 
Squadron" had so earnestly refused syrup for their pancakes.

~

Back in the kitchen, several minutes later, Becki had just completed 
another batch of pancakes, when the sound of shattering china came 
from out in the hall.

"Do we even want to know?" muttered Kirret, who had by now awakened 
sufficiently to tackle her own plate of pancakes.

"Probably not," Thayer answered, but he went and looked out just the 
same. And broke into a sudden grin at what he saw. "No, Kirret," he 
said, "you really don't."

Curious, Becki joined him at the door. Standing at one end of the 
mess-hallway was Kristy, staring in shock toward the other end, and 
at her feet were the remains of the plate they'd heard shattering. 
Becki followed Kristy's line of sight, and laughed: what had caused 
the Prophetess to lose her grip on the plate so suddenly was a rather 
drunken Russell Crowe, looking somewhat the worse for the night's 
wear, sauntering into the breakfast area. "D'I smell pancakes?" the 
actor mumbled, glancing about.

"I thought he'd gone home by now," Thayer whispered.

"If he doesn't soon," Becki whispered in reply, "we may have to hold 
Kristy back--"

She broke off when the same look of shock she'd seen on Kristy's face 
suddenly crept over Russell's. "Crikey," the actor exclaimed, "it's--
it's me!"

Thayer and Becki exchanged a look of confusion; but the confusion 
faded as soon as they glanced back in Kristy's direction. Behind the 
still-in-shock Prophetess, striding up the hall, was Wes Janson, 
looking for all the world a twin to Russell Crowe.

"Hey everybody," Wes called out, beaming, "I'm back! Didja miss me?"

And Prophet Kristy, glancing in amazement from gorgeous Rogue to 
gorgeous actor and back again, fainted dead away.

~

"The others are getting the _Red Home_ unloaded," Wes explained, 
pausing from shoveling pancakes into his mouth. "Shouldn't take too 
long. Oh, and...there's something you should know." For a moment, his 
expression grew serious as he turned to meet Face's somber 
gaze. "Dia...was hurt worse than we knew. Oh, she's all right, Face--
bacta took care of all the worst injuries. Except..."

"Except what?" Face demanded anxiously.

"Her memory. She's got a mild case of amnesia--remembers some things 
but not others. Physically, she's just fine, but the memory loss 
shook her up badly. She's had a hard time of it..."

"I have to see her," Face declared, standing up too suddenly and 
swaying a bit on his feet.

"Face," Wes reached up a hand to stop the Wraith. "Just so you 
know...one of the things she doesn't remember is you."

Face stared, uncomprehending, for a moment. Becki, still watching 
from the kitchen doorway, caught a hint of movement to her left and 
glanced that way to see Kirney glowering across the hallway. And what 
she was glowering at... Becki glanced that way and frowned. Alison? 
But why...

A hand on her shoulder broke that train of thought. She turned to see 
Thayer, with an odd look of excitement on his face. "What is it?" she 
asked.

"Sharon just called," he said. "The shuttle is back. They'll be 
landing any moment."

"Shuttle?" she frowned. "Oh! Your mother?"

He nodded. "I must go welcome her home. You'll come with me?" He 
glanced at her hopefully.

"I--oh, dear," she said, suddenly flustered. "I shouldn't--"

"I'd be most glad if you would."

She glanced back at the drama unfolding there in the hallway. Kristy 
was just now coming around as Sci and Morwen worked to revive her. 
Russell, having made it halfway through a single pancake before the 
alcohol caught up with him, was sleeping peacefully now with his head 
on the table across from Elassar's. A noise to her right drew her 
attention: There was Rekla, returning from his errand, with Emily 
following him--somehow Becki wasn't surprised that that was as far as 
his errand to fetch the other Bousshers for breakfast had gone. Even 
this early in the morning, Emily wore her sword at her side. Becki 
wondered suddenly if the girl had ever caught up with Mike, and 
looked back toward where her wingmate had been sitting--but Mike was 
gone. Shalla, too--that was odd. As for those still eating breakfast: 
Wes was at the center of it all, cheerfully talking with his mouth 
full to answer all the questions that the others had thrown at him. 
And then there was Face, standing unsteadily, with such a look of 
horror and dejection as he took in what Wes had just said...

...Maybe, after all, this would be a good moment to take leave of the 
group. The peaceful, restful sense of the morning seemed to have 
faded away like evening mists pierced by the cold morning sun.

"I'll mind the pancakes," Kirret called from behind them. "You go 
meet the Queen, and don't worry about a thing."

Becki glanced at Kirret and Reth and then back to Thayer. "All right, 
then," she sighed, and quickly slipped off her apron. And then for 
the first time she realized...

"Oh dear," she laughed. "Do you think maybe I could go change first? 
I probably shouldn't be meeting the Queen in my nightgown..."

Thayer grinned and nodded. "I'd say you look fine as it is, 
but...Mother may not agree. You should be able to find a change of 
clothes in the med bay. But be quick."

~

Sharon set the _Gaia_ down easily, a gentle landing to set Sci's mind 
at ease about his shuttle. She could see them lined up out there in 
the courtyard, the welcoming party she'd called for, but she could 
not tell yet who the individual greeters were.

The shuttle's two other passengers were waiting at the shuttle's ramp 
when Sharon reached it. "After you, your Highness," Sharon offered. 
Llessur nodded regally and started down the ramp.

The Queen's heart seemed nearly full enough to burst as she stepped 
out of the _Gaia_ and got her first look--her first look in years--at 
Mendellia. It was as beautiful as ever; even when Paris was gray and 
cold, her island home, her true home, was a summery paradise. She 
could see one wing of the Palace across the courtyard, glittering in 
the morning light. The memories of the place--good and bad--rushed in 
at her, but she stood straighter and held them back, for the moment. 
Now was not the time.

A handful of people were making their way toward the shuttle--the 
welcoming party, of course. Llessur's eyes rested immediately on the 
one face she'd most longed to see during her years of exile. And when 
she saw him, it was no longer possible to hold back the memories, nor 
the tears.

Thayer reached his mother's side in a heartbeat and held her close. 
For a long moment she clung to him, weeping, but at last she regained 
control of herself. Biting back the tears and drying her eyes, she 
held her son at arm's length so that she might fix his image in her 
memory.

"Thayer," she whispered. "Child...how good it is to see you again."

"And you, Mother," he smiled. "Mendellia has mourned your absence."

"You needn't flatter me, boy," the Queen chuckled. "But Thayer, is it 
possible...it seems to me that you are taller than when I last saw 
you."

"No, Mother; that," Thayer sighed, "is most unlikely."

"Handsomer, then. Stronger. The past few years..." She grew solemn as 
she realized what his life of the past few years must have been 
like. "You've grown up; I hardly know you now."

Thayer laughed off her concern. "No; I am still your Thayer."

"Only now, you are Dictator."

"And you are still Queen, and my Mother."

"Queen no more," she shook her head. "She is Queen whose husband 
rules. My day is past, son; gladly I yield my place to you."

Thayer nodded respectfully. "Still, titles aside, you are Queen and 
Mother to me. But come--I would have you meet friends of mine, allies 
without whose help I would not be Dictator and you would still be 
exiled in Paris."

"I would be honored," Llessur smiled.

The others in the welcoming party had caught up to Thayer and now 
stood waiting in a respectful, if somewhat nervous, row behind him. 
He turned to them and began introductions.

"My own countrymen, Egro Firyni and Egro Fenyajul...these have fought 
with me ever since the beginning."

"Your loyalty is to be commended," Llessur nodded to the two of 
them. "If memory serves, Mister Firyni, I believe I have heard of 
you. You represented Mendellia in the Olympics?"

"Your Highness's memory is unparalleled," Fir smiled and bowed his 
head. "That is correct."

"The honor you brought our nation there," the Queen smiled 
graciously, "is surpassed only by the honor of the faith you have 
shown my son in his hour of need. I thank you, Egro Firyni and Egro 
Fenyajul."

"This," said Thayer, moving on, "is the leader of Terra Group, who 
fought with us in the battle yesterday. Sci, I present her Highness, 
Queen Llessur Atner."

Sci bowed respectfully. "It is an honor to meet you, Highness. And if 
I may say so--welcome home."

Llessur thanked him, and they moved on. "The leader of Rogue Squadron-
-another group of our allies--is currently held captive; today, in 
fact, our friends shall go to rescue him. In his absence, this is his 
second-in-command, Tycho Celchu."

"We were pleased to be of assistance," Tycho smiled.

"And I thank you for it," Llessur nodded.

"And this," Thayer said as they reached the end of the line, "is 
another of Terra Group, and--my dear friend, Becki."

The Queen heard something unspoken in her son's voice, but could not 
determine what it meant. The girl he had presented was just slightly 
shorter than Llessur herself, dressed in a gray jumpsuit, the color 
of her eyes, with curly brown hair drawn back into a braid. She had 
blushed as the Queen and her son reached her, and she seemed somewhat 
uncomfortable.

Becki smiled shyly and attempted a slight curtsy. "Your Highness. 
It's--" her glance drifted to Thayer, though she continued to address 
the Queen--"it's good to have you home."

Llessur marked the look that passed between the girl and her son; she 
raised an eyebrow slightly, but said nothing. Brangaine, following 
along behind, recognized the Queen's expression and caught her breath-
-but it was not an expression with which Thayer was familiar, and he 
took no notice. "I am pleased to be home," Llessur answered 
calmly. "You and your comrades have my gratitude for your part in 
liberating this home of mine."

Then Thayer offered his arm to the Queen. "There are many, many more 
of our allies inside--at breakfast, for the most part. Shall we get 
you settled, and then you can meet them?"

Llessur nodded, laid her hand on her son's arm, and let him lead her 
away to the Palace. Fir and Fenya headed for the shuttle, to carry in 
the Queen's belongings. Tycho, Sci, Becki, and young Brangaine stood 
uncertainly a moment, then turned and followed the royal family in to 
the Palace.