-Rogue's Return-

(YT-2400 - "Black Rebel")

::The modified YT-2400 "Black Rebel" raced along in hyperspace. On her bridge, her captain, Rode Mitchell sat with his feet propped up on the copilot's chair, staring out into space while his R7 droid flew the ship under autopilot. Where he was heading now, he couldn't be sure of the reception he would get when he got there. It had been a long time since he been in this portion of Imperial controlled territory. He had music blaring, a hot cup of caf in his head when suddenly the main alarm went off, sending him catapulting upright, cup of caf flying.

"What in sithspit?" He killed the alarm and brought up the scanner readouts. He'd left the alarm settings too high again.  oO "Im not supposed to hit VE territory for another couple of hours." Oo He checked the scanners to find out he had indeed hit a Vast Empire marker buoy. They'd expanded since he was last out here. But it was just a marker buoy, not much it could do against his ship. In the worst case, all it could do was send an automated signal to the local sector headquarters that a ship had crossed the border. Then they could send a patrol ship to take a look. Unless they had a spare Interdictor to send after him, which he highly doubted. Just in case, he altered to course to make for the nearest planet.

==Later==

::He brought the Rebel in for a flashy, skilled landing, showing off a bit for all the locals. He set ship down in hangar he had been assigned by port control, and shut her down. He checked the DL=44 he had strapped to each him as he walked back to the ramp, then lowered it and rambled his way down it. The expected port official was there, but it was a droid, which meant slipping it a bribe would be a little hard. He didn't have any cargo to declare since the ship's hold was filled with something much, much more deadly. And he knew the routine, so he answered the droid's questions as fast as it could ask them and process the responses. Which wasn't very fast. Someone had obliviously skimped on the upgrades. But finally, the droid completed its task, and he was free to go. He raised the ramp by remote and activated the security system he had put in, which was one of the many modifications he had made over the last five years. From the bridge, his advanced R7 astromech could control everything aboard the ship, even fly if needed.

He headed for the spaceport's cantina. He had learned from growing up among Rebels, then serving among Imperials, and then as a freighter captain and mercenary that the local cantina was the best place to find a cargo, and more. He rambled his way through the door and ignored the droid scanner that rimmed the doorway. Immediately he could feel eyes watching him, but walking through the door in an Imperial black flight suit tended to cause that. He made his way to the bar found a seat.

"What you want?" asked the bartender.

"Correlian Whiskey. Or your best imitation." replied Mitchell

"That'll cost you. Hard money too. No credit transfers." the bartender replied with a straight face.

"Just gimme my drink." Mitchell replied as he slipped a group of credit chips from his arm pocket and tossed them on the bar.
The bartender grabbed up several of the chips and moved toward a rack of bottles. Mitchell watched as he retrieved a glass from below the bar and then a bottle from the rack. He filled the glass with the amber liquid, and deposited it on the bar in front of Mitchell. Grabbing the remaining chips and his drink, he moved away from the bar and towards the nearest terminal. He slipped into the chair and the table and took a sip of his drink before setting it aside. The imitation whisky, it was nerf's guts compared to what he had on his ship, but it would do for now. He activated the terminal and used it to try and access his old VE message account. Surprisingly the account was still there, and the codes sill worked. There were the old messages from his days in the three different squadrons he had served in, and there were a lot of new messages. Quickly, he skimmed through them, deleting ones that didn't really matter anymore. But one in particular caught his eye. It was a news flash naming his old squadron mate Arturus to command of a cap ship, a strike cruiser in particular. Evidently the VEN had done quite a bit of restructuring while he was away. But that tended to happen over the course of five years. Five years that he had spent doing a variety jobs, some legal, others far from it. He had made lots of money, far more than he ever made serving as a fighter pilot. But like all good things, it eventually came to an end. So he had pulled up the skids and headed back for the closest thing he had to a home. The Vast Empire.

oOHrmm... Arturus has himself a cruiser now. That means it's big enough to carry at least a half squad of fighters, maybe more. From what I remember, a strike cruiser under Imperial control was fitted with up to two squads of tie's, or under Rebel control, a dozen starfighters of various models. I wonder if he could use another pilot. Maybe I'll have to find out. Oo

He tossed back the rest of his drink and sat the glass back down. He quickly composed a message to Arturus and sent it on. He logged off the terminal and stood up, heading for the door. As he did, he carefully watched the others, keeping both hands resting alongside his holsters. He was almost to the door when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. In a flash, his right hand closed on the blaster's grip, drew it, and he spun and fired. The single shot caught the wall just above the challenger's head. It took him by such surprise that he clumsily dropped his own blaster. Return the blaster to its holster, he dug out a medium amount credit chip and flicked it at the bartender.

"That's for the hole." he told the bartender before walking out of the cantina. It was short walk back to the Rebel, and he keyed in the access code and lowered the ramp. He dashed up it and hit the key to raise it.

"Chrome Dome, get us moving." he yelled up to the droid on the bridge.

The droid started the engines and got the ship cleared for launch. He felt the ship rising as he walked to the bridge and took his chair. He waited til Chrome and them heading for orbit under full thrust, before taking over manually. He made sure the shields and weapons were ready, just in case. Anyone trying to take his ship would find it was a lot better armed that it looked. He had a pair of heavy laser turrets, one above and one below, mounted on the cargo section, as well as a pair of warhead launchers. He also had a pair of light ion cannons salvaged from an old rebel y-wing mounted on the outrigger mounted cockpit module. He kept the ship at full burn til he was clear of the atmosphere, then turned it back over to Chrome Dome.

"Chrome, set course for the Vectra system." he told the droid.

The droid tooted in response and the freighter jumped to hyperspace.

oOI wonder what Arturus will say when he gets my message.Oo

 
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FM/2LT Rogue/Sentinel 1-4/STCR Doashim/VE/VEN/

(YT-2400 "Black Rebel")

The "Black Rebel" raced along in hyperspace, heading for the VE's capital system. Her captain, Rode Mitchell, who normally went by his callsign of Rogue, would have prefered to go straight to the Vectra system, the home of the Vast Empire's Navy, but that wasn't quite allowed. Ships had to have special clearance to get into the system, unless they were VEN ships of course. His freighter was registered with the VE but it was under another id code that he had long since stop using. With everything going smoothly under his R7's control, he propped his feet up, settled back into his chair and even opened a bottle of Correlian Whiskey.

I needed something to get the taste of that backward planet's rotgut out of my mouth. And nothing does that better than a newly opened bottle of Whyren's Reserve.

He sipped his drink slowly, savoring each sip before it burned its way down his throat. Each sip cost him a pretty credit, but he didn't really care. And he could afford not to care for now since he had a case and a half tucked away onboard. Whyren's Reserve cost a lot out here on this part of the Rim, if you could even find it. But during his travels, Rogue had operated in parts of New Republic space where it was a lot cheaper and easier to get. He even managed to make a little money hauling some cases of it to somewhere that wasn't supposed to have it. He let his thoughts drift back to that particular run.

((Flashback))

Rogue waited patiently for the target ship to come into range of the Black Rebel's guns. Technically what he was about to was considered piracy, but the guys he was hitting had already done that. He had been hired to pick up a shipment of merchandise and run it to a drop off point for delivery to an imperial prison planet, not an uncommon smuggling run for an independent freighter like his. Normally a run like this was a spice run to the mines on Kessel, but he had been assured the cargo wasn't spice. Even he had his morals. He didn't mind running illegal cargos, but he drew the line at spice. So after he had made planetfall to pick up this cargo, he had headed for the cantina where he was supposed to meet the agent.

It wasn't hard to find the agent that time. He held court at a back table, even being so daring as to keep credit chips and blasters in plain sight on the table. They did the deal and Rogue headed back to his ship to await the cargo's pickup. The cargo hauler was waiting for him when he got there, so he opened up the ship and let the port's people do there thing. It didn't take long to unload, most of the crates didn't wait much for loaded crates. Thirty minutes later he was back in the cantina, looking for another cargo.

He was nursing his second drink when he caught the agent watching him. It was as if they were trying to size him up, see if he was either worth pulling another job for them, or that was trouble. So he made the decision for them. He knocked back his drink , then walked on over to the agent's table and dropped into the free chair, keeping one hand on his right blaster. That settled the debate and quick negotiations had then taken place. Moments later he was getting back about the Rebel and heading for space. Seemed someone had decided to double cross on this deal and hijacked the shipment. The agent had decided to hire him to recover it and make sure it was delievered to the buyer as promised.

The hijackers freighter was about the same size as his, just in a lot worse shape. His scanners showed the hull to be worn and patched, with barely any weapons detected. The majority of the power seemed to be going to the engines instead, as if they were trying to run as fast as they could. But thanks to his modifications to the yt-2400's engines, they weren't getting away from his "Rebel." Finally the range dropped to inside his firing range, and he triggered a pair of concussion missiles. These idiots actually hadn't jumped to hyperspace as soon as they were clear of the atmosphere. They were sticking to civilian regulations as if they were law. Which meant they weren't smugglers, and they weren't ex military. Nor was whoever was flying that thing a very good pilot.

The missiles raced right upon the freighter and then around it, exploding off the ships front quarters. That should get there attention he thought. He moved in with his ion guns ready to go as he ordered them to cut their engines and prepare to be boarded. He of course he got the usual response of the ship spinning away and trying to run. So he mercilessly raked it with ion fire. Their shields didn't even bother to try and stop the bolts if they were even up. The blue ion beams impacted and played across the ship, stopping it for awhile. He brought the Rebel to a stop alongside and manuvered to put his cargo doors next to theirs. Once he was in place, he sent the order for them to open their doors and transfer the cargo aboard or be destroyed. It took a few laser blasts working their way toward their cockpit to convince them, but they finally complied and the cargo was transferred. He button up his ship and engaged the engines, leaving them stuck out there. Whoever these guys were, they deserved their fates.

He was about to jump to hyperspace when all heck broke loose. Laser fire and missiles came racing in. A corvette was coming up on him fast, like it was trying to catch him. Four Cloakshape fighters came too, leading the way. So that's why they didn't jump to hyper. They were going to meet these guys. And he suddenly felt like he was being double crossed. The fighters came in firing, laser hits peppering his shields as he went into evasive maneuvers. Whoever was flying the fighters obiviously knew as little as the frieghter's crew, since after their intial run, the four of them split up. He vaped one with a burst from his two heavy double lasers turrets, and spat a pair of missiles at a second to drive it off. Then he went after the other two.


Finally after getting two of the Cloakshapes he figured out there plan. They were trying to keep him from escaping the grav shadows in the system and jumping to hyper before the corvette got to him. That gave him an idea. He switched the missiles in his launchers for his few proton torpedoes and went head on to the corvette. He ran straight in until the torps locked on and fired, until all six were away. Then he broke away. The corvette had time for a warning, but at that range, a warning only did so much good. The first two torpedoes impacted right square on with the hammerhead bow and demolished it. The next two made it worse and the last two disappeared inside the bow before detonating. Seeing their heavy ship get taken out like that, seemed to give the Cloakshape pilots a new sense of wanting to live. Both turned away and ran at full thrust, followed by the now limping corvette.

Rogue meanwhile headed right for the hyper limit and jumped to hyperspace. Once safefully there, he had broken his own policy and gone down to see what they were after him for. The locks on the containers werent much to his upgraded R7, and it quickly got one open. Inside, Rogue found a brand new set of blasters, three dozen in all in the one crate. The other crates revealed more blaster rifles, pistols, even an E-web, as well as power cells and body armor. So someone was either out fitting a personal army, or trying to start a rebellion among the prisioners on that prison planet. He returned to the cockpit and altered course. While the droid flew, he got on the computer and started looking for a place to unload these guns.

It took him three of his usual fences to get the guns unloaded, and it happened to be to a group that had roots in the Corellia system. So he had managed to buy a large amount of Whyren's Reserve off of them. Course then, after storing some for his personal use, he had to find a buyer for the whiskey. A quick trip to Kessel and he had the whiskey unloaded and enough his purse to operate for a while.

(Present)

Chrome Dome beeped again to get his attention. They were coming up on their destination, so they had to drop out of hyperspace and identify themselves to the Navy's patrols. It was a task he had done many times before, only in this part of space, he was used to being the one asking the for the id instead of providing it. He put his now empty glass down and capped the bottle, then dropped the ship out of hyperspace. But instead of the typical flight of fighters, he found an old Imperial Custom Frigate waiting for him.

"Unknown Freighter, stop and identify yourself" came the call from the frigate.

"This is the Black Rebel, Captain Rogue" He sent back over the com, once he had the ship stopped.

"Transmit Your Security Code now" was the response.

He sent them his old VEN creditenials and codes, and waited for the reply. It took a few minutes, since they probably had to dig his ID out of the computer and confirm if his codes were still good.

"Identity Confirmed , Lt. You are to proceed to the Atrus at best speed to report in." came their answer.

"By whose order customs?" he sent back.

"By order of Lt Arturus. Lt. You are ordered to report in for a new assignment." came the answer.

I guess that means he got my message. Guess I better get on my way.

"Customs, I have a cargo I have to drop off at the capital first. Then I will report to the Aturs." He sent over.

"Negative, Rebel, report to the Atrus at once. We are authorized to escort you in if necessary." The frigate sent back.

He didn't bother to answer them again. He just took the freighter back into hyperspace,leaving them sputtering and unable to follow. It was a decent length run for the rest of the distance to the capital. He made planetfall and found a place to sell his current cargo. He took back off and hit the hyperlimit just in time to see the frigate arrive from hyperspace.

His next course took him to the Vectra system, where he was able to secure permission to land aboard the modified Super Star Destroyer Atrus. And like he had figured Arturus wasn' t there. He was out aboard his own ship, over seeing repairs from a previous mission. Rogue would have to report to him there on the Doashim, as he found out the name of the ship was. So he stayed aboard the Atrus just long enough to secure a private hangar in the Navy's main planet side base for his Hammerhead using the authority granted to him by his rank. Then after transfering her down there and saying goodbye, he and the Rebel were off again, this time to the strike cruiser Doashim.

He found the ship in a dock nearly across the system, under going repairs. To him, it looked like work was being done on the ship's main reactors. It made a very tempting target for a Rebel pilot, a ship all unbuttoned and open for repairs. But as if any Rebel pilots and their ships would make it this far. He contacted the cruiser for landing permission and made his approach to the main bay.

(2,038 words according to MS Word)
 
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FM/2LT Rogue/Sentinel 1-4/STCR Doashim/VE/VEN/