Project Boussh: Unfortunate Callsign
by Josh Nolan

"No, Brad's definitely got more emotional problems," argued Nick as he
and Josh approached the door.  "I mean, you should have heard the things
he was screaming about Piggy in his sleep..."

Josh threw a sidelong grin at Nick.  "What, there's some masochistic
fantasy there, you reckon?"

Nick considered this for a second, then grinned.  "No, of course not!"
he exclaimed with mock indignation.  "Do you think I'm kind of sicko?"
Nick ignored Josh's frantic nodding and gestured at the closed door.
"Are you sure it's all right to interrupt them?"

Josh shrugged.  "Wedge told me to report to him straight after I'd
finished talking to Vickie.  Who am I to argue with the Word of TAWG?"
He knocked on the door.

"Identify," chirped a voice from inside - it sounded a bit like Sci.

"Josh and Nick, here to see General Antilles," replied Josh, mimicking
Sci's sing-song tone.

"Well, why don't you come in," said another voice, attempting to mimic both
the tone and the accent, succeeding on one count and failing on the other.

Josh and Nick entered the small room, where Pash, Sci, Wedge and Tycho were
seated around a small rectangular table, mugs of steaming coffee
interspersed with their datapads.  Pash was leaning his chair against the
wall, resting his feet on the table, his freckled face flushed red and a
silly grin on his face.  "Gidday, mates," he said broadly.  "So kind of you
to join us."

Wedge turned slightly and nodded at Josh, attempting to ignore Pash's
extravagant greeting.  "How'd it go?"

Josh was taken once again with Wedge's easy manner, a straight face that
seemed on the verge of smiling, the quiet respect he seemed to exude
without a hint of condescension, the easy way he bore his heroic
accomplishments.  Fighting down an urge to drop to his knees and scream
"We're not worthy!", Josh produced Corran's spare lightsabre from his
Curly G Cradle Rock jacket and handed it to the General.  "Like an
arse-kicking contest with a porcupine," Josh said with a rueful smile.

Seeing Wedge's puzzlement at the expression, Sci quickly explained, "A
porcupine's a small animal covered in a whole lot of spiky quills."

Nick chimed in with, "And the concept of an arse-kicking contest with
one is proverbial for futility."

Wedge nodded, and grinned.  "I like it.  She didn't try and break out,
then?"

"Nope.  All fine and dandy on that front."

"Did she talk about me at all?" asked Pash, his speech slurring slightly.

Josh shook his head, trying to figure out what was up with Pash.  "Not a
word."

"Pity," Pash mused, looking into his mug.  "She's written stories where
she's married to me, you know."

"Yes, Pash, you've mentioned this before," said Tycho gently.  "It's just
the rum talking."

"Rum?" asked Nick, his face screwing up slightly at the mention of the
liquor.

"Emily mentioned a drink that's apparently fairly common around these parts
this time of year," explained Tycho.  "Hot, buttered rum.  It seems to be a
little stronger than our A-wing jock is used to, though."

"'m not drunk," muttered Pash sullenly.

"Anyway," said Wedge, bringing the Australians' attention back to him, "We
were just discussing callsigns for the group.  We figured it would be easier
if the New Republic pilots kept their standard callsigns, since we know them
and you all know them."

"But we can't go around calling you people by name," continued Tycho.  "For
one thing, you people live here - and for another, it's traditional to
assign callsigns."

"We were going to use Terra as our callsign group," added Sci.  "We're
still trying to figure out where everyone goes - but we have  figured
out where you two sit.  Josh, you're Terra Five, and Nick, you're Terra
Six.  Is that okay with you?"

"Suits me," said Nick.  "I'm not the wing leader, then."  He turned and
grinned at Josh, who had just realised the implications.

"Why me?" blurted Josh, his eyes flicking from Sci to Wedge to Tycho.  "I'm
not cut out for command."  He threw an imploring glance at Pash, but Pash
was entranced swirling his finger in his mug.  "I'm not the guy for the
job."

Wedge held up his datapad and coughed discreetly.  "You were the main
planner in two successful raids on Imperial installations.  Ooryl's
reported that to us, and his assessment of your combat skills.  Of the
two of you, we think that you're more suited to the job."

"Wait!  The first one I just parroted Ooryl's plan back to him, and the
second Nick had just as much of a role as I did!  No way was I the main
planner!"

Tycho said quietly, "You came up with the same plan as Ooryl on your own
- we've read his report on the matter."

Nick said quickly, "And the second raid /was/ mostly your idea.  I was
just a sounding board."  Josh shot him a black look, which Nick
responded to with a faint, but extremely smug, smile.

"Tha's beau'ful," hiccuped Pash.  "Credit where credit's due.  Go far, that
boy."

"Indeed," agreed Tycho with only his faint smile belying his utter
sincerity.  "Support for those under one's command is a wonderful attribute
in a leader."

"Absolutely," agreed Sci, nodding gravely, eyes twinkling.  "I believe that
settles it."

Josh looked around imploringly at the various officers, who were trying
not quite hard enough to hide their smiles at Josh's discomfort.  Josh
finally turned his gaze to Nick, who snapped him a salute.  Josh's
shoulders slumped, defeated.  "Oh, all right then.  Terra Five,
reporting for duty."

"Welcome aboard," said Wedge, his smile at once mocking and encouraging.
Josh's own words echoed in his head - "Who am I to question the Word of
TAWG?"

"Excellent," beamed Pash, quickly skirting the table and grabbing Josh's
right hand.  "Welcome aboard," he said, his voice sincere but his
expression mocking, pumping Josh's hand slightly more than necessary.

"Anyway," said Sci, "I was wondering if we'd be able to pick your brains
on something.  It seems Bror Jace somehow failed to register a callsign
before he came on this mission.  We were thinking of calling him
Thyferra One, but 'Thyferra' is such an awkward word to throw around in
combat.  Have you guys got any ideas?"

Nick and Josh exchanged glances, and Josh asked tentatively, "Is there
some rule where if an unknown is labelled with a callsign during a
mission, they keep that callsign to the end of that mission?"

"That's generally the way it works," said Wedge.

Nick asked, "Would Terran mobile phones be considered to be an official
transmission?  If they were used between Boussh operatives, of course."

Wedge and Tycho exchanged glances, and Tycho shrugged.  Wedge turned
back to the Australians and said, "Sounds reasonable."

"Well," said Josh, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips, "I had
a conversation with Ooryl about who had a transport that could get us
out of Australia.  He mentioned that Mike's group had a decent-sized
transport."

Nick continued, "And in the process of this, Ooryl named the operatives
working with Mike.  They were Wraith Nine, Wraith Eleven..."

Nick flicked a glance at Josh, and they drew a breath and spoke in
unison.  "...and Gonad One!"

Silence gripped the room for a few seconds, and then Tycho began to
chuckle.  It quickly spread to Sci and Wedge, while Pash blinked at the
Australians in bleary confusion.  Realisation dawned on the readhead's face,
and he began to giggle.  His drunken giggle made Sci begin to laugh out
loud, which made the Australians begin to grin broadly.

"We could dress it up for him," began Pash, righting his chair with a
jarring crash.  "We could say it's some kind of big honour, and say he's now
the leader of Gonad Squadron or something!"  This forced a burst of laughter
from Wedge, which spurred the A-wing pilot on.  "Bror Jace," he declaimed,
staggering to his feet, "We hereby dub you - Gonad One!"  Pash began
giggling at his own joke, which set the room off in laughter.

The noise persisted for a good ten seconds, and as it died down Tycho
murmured, "But if we did that, I could see Bror being the only man alive
proud of being called a Gonad."

The Australians burst out laughing at that one, and Pash finally let
laughter get the better of him and fell over.  Tycho rushed to catch him,
still laughing, and Wedge moved to help his wingmate.  "Oops," said Pash.
"Why'd the floor hit me?"

********

Bror paused halfway through a pushup at the sound of laughter filtering
out of the cabin.  He briefly wondered what the joke was, and then
reminded himself it was probably something below his dignity.  His
curiosity thus satisfied, he continued his calisthenics.