Project Boussh: The Wraiths Seek High Ground
by Durandir

It was early afternoon as three X-wing starfighters punched through
the last layer of clouds and approached their destination. Below, on a
broad field worn bare by many feet and marked with white lines at
regular intervals, some hundred people were in motion. Their eyes were
all on a girl standing at the edge of the field, waving her arms. In
their hands were a variety of instruments, and as they moved about,
forming abstract patterns on the field, they played.

The music at first covered the sound of the X-wings, but not for long.
The starfighters drew nearer; one after another, members of the
marching band looked up to see the approaching ships. The music came to
an abrupt halt as the marchers stopped to stare at the sky in wonder.

"Oh, no," one flute player groaned under her breath. "What are they
thinking?"

Then it became apparent that the ships were heading for the very field
on which the band was marching. There was movement again: this time,
the movement of musicians running for the edges of the field. They did
so not a moment too soon, as the X-wings came to land where moments ago
the band had been rehearsing drill.

As the cockpits of the starfighters began to open, the flute player
sighed in resignation and ran back onto the field, heading for the
first of the ships. The pilot was just removing his helmet as she
reached it-a handsome man with dark hair and eyes almost too light a
blue.

"Hi," said the pilot when he saw the girl approaching. "Can you-"

"You're early," she scolded. "You weren't supposed to get here until
band rehearsal was over."

"What?" he said, looking confused. She looked back toward the edge of
the field; he followed her line of sight. His eyes widened in surprise
as he finally realized just how many people were standing there,
watching what was supposed to be a covert insertion of the pilots into
this world.

"Uh-oh," came a voice from behind him. It was the second pilot, a tall
woman with her blonde hair in a ponytail; she had already gotten down
from her ship and had come over to join the man and the flutist.

"I don't know what they were thinking, anyway," the flutist
continued. "Sending you to the rehearsal field in the middle of campus.
Well, on the edge of campus, but still, it's in the middle of Terre
Haute. Isn't this supposed to be an undercover operation?"

"It was," answered the man. "By the way, I take it you're our contact?"

"Yeah," the flutist said with a weak smile. "Sorry, I forgot about
introductions in the midst of all this. I'm Becki."

"Kell," the man introduced himself.

"And I'm Tyria," the blonde pilot added.

"We are Runt," the third pilot said as he joined them. This pilot stood
out drastically from the others-with his rather equine features and
brown fur, he was definitely not human. The band members at the edge of
the field showed signs of astonishment at the sight of him, nonhumans
being a rare sight in Indiana.

"Oh," said Becki, "oh dear. I thought you were coming in with Voort and
Ooryl? Well, never mind. It doesn't make much difference now. They-"
she nodded at the band- "would be suspicious enough even if there were
only human pilots in the X-wings. I mean, X-wings aren't something you
see every day in Terre Haute. Especially not on the marching band's
practice field."

"So what are we going to do about them, now that they've seen us?" Kell
frowned.

"I've got an idea," Tyria said. "I've been developing my skill in the
Force, you know-practicing some of Master Luke's techniques. I think I
can convince them they never saw us here."

"All of them?" Becki raised an eyebrow skeptically. "They're not all
weak-minded fools, you know."

"I think I can do it. Corran's taught me a little about projecting an
image into another person's mind. Even if it doesn't fool all of them,
it'll confuse them enough to protect our mission."

"Do it, then," said Becki. "And we can't leave the X-wings here. My
car's parked at the other end of the field. If I drive to the
safehouse, can you follow me there in your fighters?"

They were confident that they could. So the pilots quickly returned to
their ships, the flutist ran to her car, pausing only long enough to
grab her backpack and instrument case from among all the others piled
at the side of the field, and in moments they were gone.

A minute later, the band director called, "Let's go!" and the musicians
made their way back onto the field, instruments in hand. One girl in
the flute section turned to her neighbor to ask, "Where's Becki?"

"Oh," answered the other, "she had to leave early. She had a meeting of
some sort."

And the drill began again. The music still did not quite drown out the
sound of X-wing engines, but no one seemed to take any notice of that
noise now, and soon it faded away, leaving the field just as it had
been before.

Meanwhile, a single car sped along back roads until it reached a house
on the outskirts of Terre Haute, a structure built low to the ground,
with narrow windows and a sturdy roof. Beside this house was a rather
large garage. The car passed by the garage, parking beside it. Moments
later, three X-wings flew by and landed in the garage.

The flutist was waiting for them at the door of the safehouse. "Welcome
to the Hermitage," she smiled as she led them inside.

"Hermitage?" Tyria asked.

"It's a long story. Actually, the Hermitage is a cattery. A friend of
mine raises purebred cats for shows, and I catsit when she's away.
She's a supporter of the campaign to elect General Antilles, so she
kindly allowed us to use the cattery for this mission."

"We are sorry," said Runt, "but we do not understand what a cat is."

"Oh, right. It's a Terran animal. One of these." She scooped a
longhaired orange and white feline up from the floor and presented it
to Runt. "People keep them as pets. This is Macavity." Runt's calm
brown eyes widened as he took the cat. Macavity began purring, settling
contentedly into the Wraith's arms.

"That's an awfully small hangar you've got here," Kell said.

"Sorry," Becki answered. "If we built it any bigger, it would have been
too suspicious. Your ships do fit, though, don't they?"

"Barely."

"Good enough. Now," she said, shooing a couple of cats off chairs so
the pilots could sit, "dinner will be ready shortly, and after that,
we'll be meeting with some of the others to get things underway." A
look of worry passed over her face. "I'm glad you're here now, even if
you were a little too early for convenience. We've been so worried
about Quiara. But with the Rogues and Wraiths here, we're sure to find
her."

The Wraiths grinned. "Let's hope you're right," Kell said.