Project Boussh: Roadkill
by Nick Coghlan

Yarg sniffed the air. Traces of wood smoke, the strange industrial smell
of blast scored armour and a stench of sweat and fear not even military
grade air filters could erase. There was no doubt about it - the
half-squad of stormies he was trailing had passed this way. Signalling
to the apparently empty woods, he headed off, following the still fresh
scent of the enemy.

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

Nick glanced again at the scanner. Trees flashed past as he followed his
quarry back into the New Hampshire woods. The glowing point of light
which denoted the Imperial AT-ST was just ahead. He swung the Winnebago
to the left, bringing it around a heavy clump of trees, the whine of the
modified vehicle's repulsorlifts increasing as he accelerated out of the
turn.

Now, that walker should be just...

Before Nick could finish the thought, there was a blinding flash of
white light.

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

The Mustang's engine purred as it sped down through the New Hampshire
woods. A pulsating bass beat reverberated through the night, as the
vehicle's driver let the music penetrate to the very depths of his soul.
Now _this_ was the way it should be. Nothing but the night, the road,
and the beat. And the white-suited figure standing in the middle of the
highway.

The driver swore, jerking hard left on the steering wheel. This was a
mistake. The manoeuvre was too quick for the icy conditions, and the
back end of the Mustang swung out, taking the vehicle into an
uncontrolled spin. As the car spun, the driver was flung sideways,
unable to maintain his grip on the wheel. He closed his eyes and waited
for the inevitable.

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

Chase watched between Yagger's and Eqs's shoulders as they guided their
vehicle between the trees. Their main priority was escape, but the
scanner at the front of the cockpit indicated that that wasn't going to
be as easy as they'd hoped. The pursuing Terran craft was clearly
gaining on them.

Turning, and reaching towards the top hatch, Chase said "I'm going up.
Try not to throw me off." Yagger merely grunted in reply.

Situating himself behind his makeshift rear gun, Chase inspected the
twin barrels of the E-web heavy repeating blasters. Both weapons still
bore the signs of the heavy fighting in the initial escape from the
cabin. Still, at least he'd managed to get the pair of them operational
again. Closing his hands on the weapon grips, Chase scanned their
backtrail for the pursuing vehicle. There it was, rounding that thicket.
Narrowing his eyes, he tightened his fingers on the triggers.

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

The Ewoks moved quietly through the woods. Up ahead, Yarg was beginning
to catch glimpses of a large break in the trees. A strange throbbing
rhythym seemed to be moving across their path at a similar distance.
Suddenly, the throbbing was overwhelmed by a strange screeching and
squealing. When it stopped, the throbbing continued, but it was no
longer moving.

Looking around, Yarg shrugged in response to the questioning glances he
was receiving from his troops. Raising his hand, he motioned towards the
source of the noise.

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

Nick flinched away from the sudden blast against the Winnebago's forward
shield. Yep, there was the walker, all right. One of the Imperial's was
peppering him with blaster fire from the jury-rigged gunnery turret
mounted on top of the ungainly machine. Needing to concentrate on
keeping pace through the trees, Nick couldn't spare the necessary
attention to return fire. Not until they reached some clear ground.
Until then, his only option was to maintain contact with the scout
walker, waiting for an opportunity.

The AT-ST continued at a breakneck pace through the woods. Several times
Nick considered the option of taking the Winnebago to the air, but two
things stopped him. Firstly, he didn't want to make himself a prime
target for any trigger happy gunners still in orbit. Secondly, he
couldn't quite remember which button to press, and this didn't seem like
a good time for experimentation. However, as the forward shield
continued to take hits from the walker's improvised rear-mounted
weaponry, Nick made the necessary adjustments to shift the bulk of the
shield
energy to the front deflector. After all, the only other threats in
these woods were armed with hand weapons, which didn't pose any danger
to starfighter-grade shields.

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

The driver opened his eyes. The car wasn't moving. The beat of the music
was almost drowned out by the thundering of his heart in his chest. He
was alive! By God, he was alive! He unbuckled his belt and slumped in
his seat, simply savouring the sweet fact of his own existence.
Suddenly, the car door was wrenched open and a white gloved hand reached
and hauled him out. Before he knew what was happening, he was tumbling
down into a ditch beside the road.

His mind still awhirl, he stumbled to his feet just in time to see the
four doors of his car slam, as it sped off with four white-suited
figures inside. Slowly, finally, his brain began to catch up to the
reality of what he was experiencing. "Hey! They stole ma ride!". He
stood staring after the departing Mustang for a few moments longer.
Suddenly, something clicked. "Ya mutha%$#@ing bastards, ya stole ma
rekkuds!!!"

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

The AT-ST lurched as Yagger deftly guided it between the trees of the
New Hampshire woods. The breakneck pace didn't make Chase's job any
easier. Still, he was keeping up a steady fire on the pursuing vehicle's
forward shield. Unfortunately, that shield showed absolutely no signs of
weakening. His eyes narrowed. Even starfighter grade shielding should be
showing some effects from the barrage. Unless...

Chase suddenly grinned. He knew what the pursuing Terran had done. And
he knew how to take advantage of it. It was gonna take timing and a
great deal of luck, but he figured he could pull it off.

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

The dark-skinned human was still shouting after the departing vehicle,
shaking his fist in the air. Yarg made a sharp gesture, and his squad
drifted out of the trees, silently surrounding the obviously incensed
individual. As Yarg stepped forward, the man suddenly noticed him. Eyes
widening, he reached for his waist, presumably for a weapon of some
sort. Holding up his blaster rifle, Yarg concentrated, and forced out a
single word - "No!". The human obviously understood, as he stopped his
motion, and raised his empty hands.

Yarg grinned. Understanding this English the humans used wasn't that
hard, but the sounds required to produce it were still extremely
strange. However, he'd been practicing a couple of simple words, in the
knowledge that he might not have a translator handy when he needed one.
Still, this human really wasn't what he was after. He wanted the ones in
white.

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

That damn AT-ST pilot was a freakin' magician. He stepped his vehicle
between trees that seemed close enough together to give an Ewok trouble,
and several times Nick lost contact and had to rely on the scanners to
recover the trail. And these damn woods were still too thick for him to
divert sufficient attention to the ion cannon without careening into a
few giants of the forest. Not for the first time, he swore at himself
for convincing Myn and Wes to rejoin the others. What he wouldn't give
for a decent gunner sitting next to him, instead of the gaggle of Ewoks
bouncing around in the back.

A spatter of crimson fire against the forward shield reminded him that
indulging in self-recrimination wasn't really a luxury he had time for
right now. Focusing on the vehicle he was chasing, he could just make
out the shape of the gunner, as the AT-ST's guns spat another streak of
fire. This time the shots missed, falling well to the left of the
Winnebago. Nick grinned. Maybe his enemy was getting as sick of this he
was - that was the worst piece of marksmanship he'd displayed all day.
And then, suddenly, it felt like God had pressed the smite button.

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

Hands raised in the air, he stared at the bizarre fuzzball in front of
him. That rifle certainly wasn't looking friendly. And it looked there
was a bunch more of them around, too. Still, he would swear that the
creature had just yelped "No!" when he'd reached for his piece. Drawing
a steadying breath, he thought, what the hell, if it can talk, maybe it
can follow English. Probably just some guys in weird suits, anyway.

"Hey man, be cool a'ight? The G-man gets hisself a li'l nervous when
foo's sneak up on him knowwhaddI'msayin?  Now, I's cool.  See?  No
gatt.  A'ight?"

The fuzzball just stared back at him. He noticed that the creature's
eyes kept darting in the direction of the departing vehicle.

"Ya gotta beef wit' dem Klan $%#%s too? Yo, if that's ya action, I'm
there."

The staring match continued for a few moments more and then, suddenly,
the figure nodded, lowered the rifle, and gestured back to the road.
Fuzzballs ahead and behind, he headed off in the direction of his now
distant ride.

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

Chase stared at the wreckage. As he'd suspected, the Terrans had
weakened the rear shields to reinforce the ones he'd been hammering with
the twin E-webs. The massive tree had slammed straight through them,
smashing the rear corner of vehicle into the ground, and shorting out
the repulsorlifts. As he raked fire across the body of the vehicle, he
realised it must have taken out the shield generator as well. A
satisfied smile was spreading across his face, when a bolt a azure light
reached out from the wreckage, and stroked gently across his guns.
Chase's entire body went rigid with spasms as he was thrown back against
the front of the AT-ST's entry hatch. He thought he heard Eqs scream as
he fell into the cabin.

He came around a few brief seconds later, to find his head resting in
Eqs' lap. His head throbbed, and his entire body felt like it was on
fire. Still, he managed to get out, "The Terrans are done, Yagger. Get
us out of here."

He barely heard the reply. "Yes, sir. Just attending to a trivial little
detail before we go."

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

A throbbing roar indicated the approach of another of the Terran
vehicles. Yarg waved his arm and his troops melted into the trees. He
and the human who spoke with such a strange dialect turned to await the
approaching vehicle. It slowed as it approached them, and drew to a halt
a short distance away. The driver's door opened, and a powerfully built
figure stepped out onto the road, and appeared to sniff the air.

"You folks look like you could use a ride."

The human who had called himself the G-man replied, "Word. Them Klan
$%#@s musta seen a brother in a fly car and gotten all green-eyed 'n
shit, knowwhadI'msayin?  Them white-ass Nazis oughta be -"

The hairy man grunted, interrupting the darker man's burgeoning tirade. 
"Klanners, huh? Well then, maybe I can help. Get in. Your friends too."

Yarg saw the G-man's nostrils flare at the man's commanding tone. Still,
he started walking towards the truck. "So, wha's your handle, man?  Or'r
ya gonna get all mysterioso and pull that Batman shit,
knowwhadI'msayin?"

The man paused in the act of getting back into the driver's seat, and
appeared to think for a second. Finally he said, "Call me Logan. You?"

As the Ewoks started piling into the tray of the pickup, the G-man bowed
grandiosely and said, "You have the honour, nay, the pleasure of being
in the illustrious presence of Curly G Cradle Rock, the world's
greatest, freshest, crazy-beat-ass DJ!"  Curly paused to let that sink
in, and seemed annoyed that no-one reacted. Somewhat subdued, he
continued, "Are we gonna cap them Klan #$%@s now, or what?  We's gonna
be all BAM! Cradle rock style!"

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

Nick's vision was still blurry from the Winnebago's sudden rediscovery
of the laws of gravity. His ears were still ringing, as well, but that
may have been the result of the huge number of failures that the vehicle
was trying to report to him. That last shot of the Imps hadn't been a
wild miss at all. He'd been predictable, and it had damn near gotten him
killed. Still, at least the ion cannon was working - he might actually
live to regret his mistake.

Since his last shot, there hadn't been any return fire from the AT-ST.
The scanner wasn't working any more, but from what he could make out
through the windscreen, the walker had started to turn in a wide arc,
varying it's speed and ducking in between trees in order to present a
more difficult target. Finally, he got a clear angle when it turned
directly towards him. As he pressed the trigger, though, one of the many
red warning lights finally registered. It was the charging coils for the
Winnebago's main gun. The ion cannon. It wasn't going to fire anything
more than that first shot.

He looked up from the Winnebago's dash, to stare at the oncoming
Imperials. His finger held the ion cannon's trigger uselessly, futilely,
depressed as the walker's guns began to pump, raining down red death.

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

Curly G stared down the highway, looking for any sign of his Mustang.
The silent Canuck to his left didn't seem inclined to chat, and since
that first harsh "No!", the fuzzball on his right hadn't said anything
either. He hoped the powerful engine in this guy's pickup was enough to
run down his ride, burdened as it was with the four massive Klanners
that had 'jacked him.

Finally a set of taillights came in sight. As the drew closer, the
fuzzball leaned out the window, raised that vicious looking rifle, and
spat red light out into the night. The Mustang's taillights suddenly
started swerving across the road, as if the driver had lost control of
the vehicle. They gained rapidly after that, and suddenly all of the
fuzzballs on the back of the truck were letting rip with light guns as
well, aiming at something beyond the reach of the headlights. The Canuck
brought the truck to a halt, and all of the little critters jumped off,
and started running up the highway, rapidly disappearing into the
shadows still present on either side. The fuzzball in the cabin opened
the passenger side door, and disappeared after them. A few more strange
streaks of light could be seen in the vicinity of the Mustang.

The Canuck grinned unpleasantly. "Looks like a ride was all they needed,
after all."

He climbed out, and Curly G followed him. They made their way up towards
the place where they Mustang had come to rest. It seemed mostly OK. One
wheel looked like it had been half-melted to slag, but the spare in back
should fix that. And, with any luck, his records should have survived
the trip unscathed. Scattered around the vehicle though, were the bodies
of the four guys he'd taken for Klanners. Seeing them, he realised just
what it was the little fuzzballs reminded him of.

"What the @#$& was this? Attack of the Killer Star Wars Fans?"

He heard a sickening crunch from near one of the armoured bodies. The
Canuck was standing next to it, rubbing his knuckles thoughtfully. Half
to himself, he said, "They missed one. Not bad for a bunch a' midgets
though." Looking up at Curly G, he continued, "Looks like you got your
ride back. And your Klanners aren't gonna be bothering no-one no-more.
If I was you I'd be getting the hell out of here." With that, the
Canadian turned and walked off into the night, heading for his truck.

Curly G stared after him. He was hard pressed to decide who was weirder
- the fuzzballs or this Logan. Still, the man made sense. Hanging around
four corpses was not a good place to be.

As Curly G was getting set to change the destroyed tire, the Canadian's
truck sped past him. He never saw anything more ofthe fuzzballs. They'd
melted back into the forests as if they'd never existed.

"Damn, the li'l mutha#@!$ers coulda given me a hand," he muttered as he
started jacking up the car.

From out of the forest, he could swear he heard the word, "No!"

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

Chase moaned. Yagger had brought the AT-ST up to a full speed, and,
despite his skill at handling the mechanical war beast, it still caused
a certain amount of jarring for the injured Lieutenant. At the sounds
from his commander, Yagger looked back briefly.

"Rest easy sir, rest easy. We're well away, and I got the bastards that
got you. They're nothing but fried remains in a molten wreck."

Yagger wasn't sure, but he thought he saw the faint traces of a smile on
Chase's lips.