Project Boussh: Think About The Impact
by Brad Corletti

Brad awoke to a rough shoving. He groaned and stretched. He felt
terrible. He opened his eyes and hazily saw a man in white armour
pointing a long black object at him from the open hatch.

Shit. Stormtrooper.

He briefly wondered why he'd been sleeping on his B-wing's floor.
Memories began to come back to him, a torrent of emotion. The past
day's hectic events.

He looked at the stormtrooper. It had said something. "What?"

"Hands up." The voice was only slightly distorted by the stormtrooper
helmet's comm system.

Brad complied. He craned his neck to look at the B-wing's chrono. Not
much more than an hour had passed since...

He looked down. Dorset was lying there, still unconscious. Since he'd
been 'shot down'. Since the injury had occured. Since he'd had to
leave an emergency landing to Drake. Since, presumably, the impact had
knocked him out.

He returned his attention to the stormtrooper. "I'm an Imperial
officer."

The stormtrooper appeared unconvinced. "You're in a B-wing wearing a
Rebel flightsuit with another Rebel injured in front of you."

Brad shook his head. "No, really. Check the cargo compartment. My rank
cylinder's in there."

The stormtrooper moved his head, presumably signalling to another
stormtrooper.

He heard another voice. "He's right, sir. Major's insignia."

The stormtrooper lowered his rifle and snapped to attention. "My
apologies, Major, but we had to be certain."

Brad nodded. "Understood. Now, first things first. Do you have
transport capable of reaching orbit?"

The stormtrooper nodded. "Yes, sir. A stormtrooper transport."

"Good. I want you to take this woman," he nodded at Dorset's sleeping
form, "to the Imperator. I want her in a bacta tank immediately. She
is my prisoner, and my prisoner alone. No one is to touch her without
my authorisation."

The stormtrooper nodded. "It will be done. Anything else?"

The memory of Vickie's mind touching his returned to him. "Take care
of her," she'd said. The only place in this system guarenteed to have
bacta is that Imperator-class Star Destroyer. This is the best I can
do, he thought to himself. I just hope it's enough. He looked back at
the B-wing's cockpit, expecting to see the droid there awaiting his
orders. The droid was there, but apparently the landing it had been
forced to make had been less than kind to it. It appeared heavily
damaged.

"Yes, Sergeant, just one more thing." He then said words he'd never
thought he'd utter.

"Take me to your leader."