On my radar screen I saw the first missile fired, and then the second. Then came countless others. I knew there was no way I could outrun those missiles in this ship, nor could I outmaneuver them. I approached the planet and waited for the first impact, but none came. I turned back to my radar to find that not only were two red dots on the screen, but a blue one as well. The scanner proved it to be a bulk freighter, but it would not last long under that kind of punishment. I focused my attention on landing, hoping that this newfound distraction would hold the enemy long enough for me to land. I pointed the nose of my ship towards Beeblebrox and, once near enough, flipped the switch to begin the cycle.

The computer took over from there. After three or four minutes I glided softly to a stop on the asphalt landing pad. I stepped off and onto the pavement and strolled inside the trading center. I should get rid of this cargo while I still have the time.

"What do you mean you don't take medical goods? I paid good money for these and there has to be someone who needs them!" I knew there was little chance of actually convincing this guy to buy them off of me, but you would be surprised how often it actually does work.

"We don't need them. Look around, there must be some local merchant who needs them. I only know what we can and can't do. Don't complain to me about policy."

"Whatever. Is there a bar near here?" I chose not to argue any further with this guy. He seemed nice enough, but he did not look like the sort you would want to piss off.

"About fifty meters down the promenade. On your right. You can't miss it."

I spent most of the rest of the day in that bar, or so I think. It became tough to stick to my goal of selling the goods after the first four or five drinks. The next thing I remember was waking up the next morning on the bar's floor, and with one hell of a headache. I don't guess it could be exactly justified as morning, as it was still dark and the room was as full as ever. Most of them seemed to be workers just getting off from the processing facility after a long night's labor. No one seemed to care, or even notice, that I was on the ground.

I stumbled up to the bar and sat down, taking a moment to clear my head. I struggled to remember why it was that I came here, why I had even bothered to land. Then I remembered the pirates, and the bulk freighter, and the wreckage. There had to be something going on here. Sure, there was the occasional Defender, or even an Argosy, but nothing powerful enough to do that kind of damage. I ordered an ice water and slowly sipped it, trying to relieve my headache.

"Have you heard anything about pirates in the system?" I asked the bartender as he poured another customer a drink.

"Not much. Just a few Corvettes intercepting some traders, as far as I have heard. Nothing for me to worry about, though."

"I'm sure. Thanks for the help." I turned to leave.

"Any time."

I made my way back to the pad and returned to the captain's chair. This was turning out to make less sense than it had before. Why weren't there any Rebel Cruisers or Destroyers to stop this? This was a tactical stronghold for the Rebellion, and it would be quite awkward for them to leave it unprotected. They must be losing a large amount of profit because of these attacks on cargo ships. I had better check into this. I took the controls and engaged the primary engines, and took off.

As soon as I was in the upper atmosphere I started warming up the laser cannon. I hoped to avoid a fight, but it may very well be impossible. I set my hyperdrive map for the Satori system, I could probably get more information there, and it was only a few jumps away. After all, Palshife is the Rebel military center.

It took three or four days, but I made it through. The rejuvenation chamber made it seem like minutes. A few extra days of sleep couldn't hurt, after all. When I jumped into the Satori system, the first thing I noticed was a collection of large ships, many of them Rebel warships. Also among this collection were four different argosies, outfitted with extra weaponry from the look of it. The scanner measured them at nearly twice their normal mass, and they were using Rebel engine signatures. Even the Rebels wouldn't usually find the need for such ships, even at times of the utmost importance. They must be preparing for a battle of some sort, the likes of which had not been seen in many years. This could explain the lack of patrol ships, in nearby systems, as all the vessels capable of fighting were readying for battle. This could turn out to be very interesting, perhaps even profitable. The Rebellion could be willing to pay handsomely for a fighter pilot, as they can afford to. Not because they are wealthy, quite the contrary, but it is a simple fact that not many pilots actually return. A dead pilot is a very inexpensive one.

I selected the Cruiser in front and hailed it.

"Greetings from the R.S.S. Renegade. How may I help you?" The commander greeted me halfheartedly, busy with his control panel.

"Why are all these ships here? What is going on?" I knew I was unlikely to recieve and answer, but it was worth a try.

"You know I can't tell you that. It is confidential. You will have to talk with my superiors on Palshife." He pushed two buttons on his panel and looked up at me. "Are you planning to apply?"

"I am thinking about it. I will look around on the planet first, see what I can do. Out."

"Aid the cause by attacking the Confederation. Out."

I closed the communications link and started off for the planet. I was low on money, and this might just be the way to make some. I set my course to Palshife and flipped on the auto-landing sequence. I laid back in my seat.

I touched down on the surface nearly five minutes later, swooping down and gliding to a stop on the military station's civilian landing pad. I walked over to the recruitment office and walked inside. When I entered there were no other applicants in the waiting room. I walked up to the desk and rung the bell for service. When none came, I rang again.

"Coming! Hold on a second!" a bespectacled young man in uniform called out while stowing folders in a file cabinet. "I'll be there in just a moment!"

"No rush. Take your time." This man looked hurried enough as it was without having to worry about servicing me.

"Okay then. Are you here to sign up for recruitment?"

"I am."

"Oh good. You will simply have to take a lie-detector test and sign these forms..um..here." he said while shuffling through papers and folders on the desk. "Follow me. Quickly, if you will."

I walked behind him and into a well-lit carpeted room with an armchair in the middle of it. "If you would take a seat right here, please," he said while pointing to the chair. "I can proceed with the test." I sat in the comfortable chair as he swabbed the temples of my forehead with a wet cotton swab. "Now hold very still while I attatch this." He finished swabbing and stuck an electrode to each side of my head, pulling the suction ring out so that they would hold. He walked into a room in the back and emerged with a clear liquid in a plastic cup. "Here, drink this." I obeyed, and swallowed the odorless, tasteless fluid. "Now here is the important part. I need you to answer each question I ask you truthfully and quickly, with the first answer that comes to mind. Got it?"

"Sure." My eyes suddenly got heavier and my thoughts were slow. I had trouble sorting the things around me. I was, however, strangely calmed, sublime even.

"Do you ever recall attacking a ship of the Rebellion?"

"No, I do not." This was easy. My vision blurred slightly, but I did not feel faint at all.

The man nodded. "Have you had experience in fighting the Confederate navy before?"

"I have."

"Good, this is going fine. Have you ever worked for the Rebel military in the past?

"Yes"

"Okay then. That will be all. You seem to register normal on the scale, and you qualify for enlistment as a fighter pilot." He walked over and injected a second liquid into my arm. In a few seconds, my thoughts seemed to clear again. The past few minutes seem to have occured days, maybe weeks before that moment. "You will be appointed a Manta Light Fighter, and your first assignment will be to assist the Rebel fleet in the attack on a Confederate convoy in the Risa system. You will be ready to leave in three hours. Sign here."

I signed in the appropriate spot and handed him the sheet.

"Good. Go get your things together, but remember: pack light. The Manta can't hold all of your things. Leave some in your locker here on the base. They will be all right for the next week or two." I eased up out of the chair.

"Thank you. I will be ready as soon as possible, sir."

"Dismissed!" I ran out the door and to my vessel. I had to prepare. The next few days could be a great beginning.

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