Clif's Barghest shot across the skies of the California system and his mind struggled to keep pace.
With the course already plotted, Clif turned to his neural net uplink and began scanning and sending information to Sylpheed in Cassini. He had to be sure that to let the Crime Boss know what was afoot. He did turn to the window to watch the Mojave trade lane pass. Clif wondered how long it would be until he'd fly there again. Scanners detected nothing in his vicinity, and he returned to sending information to Sylpheed.
The jump hole to Alberta came into view, and his proximity alarms split the soft thrum of engines. His console showed several Liberty Navy units settled in at Fort Severn. After shutting the alarms down, his comms burst to life with the requisite static.
"Fancy that," One of the boys in uniform said sarcastically. "What an honour, Rogue."
"Ain' so much as ya think..." Clif was in trouble, and he knew it. He was sure that Dervin had given up his location somehow.
"What's this puny thing? Where's Blitzer?" Another lawful barked.
Was Wolf somehow actually involved? Clif was hoping to have met him in Cassini, maybe if he could just get away. He poked towards the jump hole in an effort to sneak, but several more fighters arrived to halt any attempts to run. This was definitely a set-up.
"What now, then? Fleece me? I ain' doin' nothing wrong." Clif was now desperate.
"Unfortunate you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, Rogue."
"Ain' likin' the sound'a that," Clif asked, "wha'cha mean 'sactly?"
But the Navy ignored his protests. "Lieutenant Dallin, begin boarding procedure. Ensign, disabiling fire only if he resists."
Clif peeped at the sound of boarding, this was serious. Though he had little chances, a man backed into a corner has only one option. He brought his guns to bear on the biggest target he could find, the LLS Virtuous. But he managed only a brief struggle before his engines were damaged.
He caught snippets of conversation while fighting to keep control of the dying vessel, "Anderson, this isn't the one I want! There's supposed to be another. An older one..." It had to be Wolf that they were after, but that did little to improve Clif's current situation. He had fled in fear, alone from Alcatraz, and was now caught without even a wing man.
As his desperate attempt to fight was quashed, the Navy again began the boarding procedures. "Commander Hanson, begin boarding procedure. Lieutenant Commander Redline, begin a search pattern. There's got to be more of them out there." More orders, and Clif felt the Barghest cry out as metal screeched across metal. They were going to take him in. He hadn't even packed his gun in his rush to leave. Must be this Commander Hanson.
"Hot damn, tractor that boy in. Doc Raynor wants him aboard the Virtuous until we can take him on home." The commander of the LLS Virtuous sounded excited to meet him, even if Clif wasn't the Rogue he was after. Sounds of a plasma cutter woke aft threw Clif into action. He brought up his comms and sent a distress signal to his friends in California. He hadn't even thought of wiping his computer when he heard the footsteps of the assault team breach the Beggar's Behest. He quickly found himself surrounded by troops with the types of weapons a Rogue can only dream of owning. An Officer stepped in and took him into custody, Commander Hanson, unless Clif missed his guess.
"Right." Clif spit at the Officer's feet, "So ya got me, what now?" But the Navy ignored him again. Apparently, his sad excuse of fighting didn't put much a scare in them.
"Redline reports of his friends wandering around. Mr. Thorn, Miss Dimitrova. Assist him"
Now that the Navy had him in custody, they were to hunt down those trying to save him? Clif could do nothing but hope. Maybe they'd break through?
"Secure the Rogue vessel. Take it back to home and we'll clean it out. I want that pirate on my ship." He recognized the voice as the commanding officer of the LLS Virtuous, Richardson.
The Raleigh countered that command with one of his own. It seemed that there were some disagreements in the ranks. "Send him up to the Bridge. I would like a word with him," Anderson said.
"You can't be serious. The bridge? You're inviting him to dinner then?" Richardson countered.
"Captain, tone it down." It was obviously an order. So Anderson outranked this Richardson character, Clif thought. Those troops surrounding him moved Clif across the gaping hole in his ship and into the LNS Raleigh. The ship was nicely furnished, but without being ornate. He did his best to remember the way back to his Behest, even if escape was unlikely. It took little time to finally meet Anderson face to face. The man reeked of superiority, and Clif immediately hated him. Personally.
"So... Rogue. You have anything to say? You will be transported to the Virtuous here momentarily of course."
"I ain' interested in yer song an' dance. This ain' over yet." Clif still failed to realize the trouble he was in. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and he found himself at a loss. But he certainly wasn't going to sing all his secrets to some stuffy boy in uniform.
"What trash. He can't even be civil for a moment. Better hope something doesn't happen to you in these cells."
"Very well then." The one he knew as Anderson simply pointed back towards the door, "Get him off my ship, and to the Virtuous. You'll be treated for injuries, and then there will be the justice side of things. Farewell."
The guards grabbed Clif and pulled him roughly towards the moor between the Raleigh and the Virtuous. Clif had no idea what to expect what awaited him aboard the ship, aside from probable torture and most certainly a cell. One of the guards joked that those few Rogues that had rushed to help had scattered.
No one was coming to save him, and The Virtuous awaited.
"What a pleasure to have a Rogue in my office.", Doctor Raynor said casually, as though a guest had come to visit him.
Doctor James Raynor was a man in this thirties, he had a well kept beard and a professional demeanor. His lab coat was pure white and there wasn't a thing about him out of place. However, there was something oddly calm about him. Certainly no lawman even one who served as a healer would appreciate the company that was before him now.
"Sadly, I was expecting Mr. Blitzer. We have a bit of an interesting history he and I." He tapped his well polished shoe against the solid metal floor. Each tap letting out a dull clank as he composed himself and began to speak.
"Since you're really in no position to leave, I'll go ahead and explain. My family was in the shipping business, Mr. Thurston. It was a convoy through Galileo eight years ago, in fact. For reasons I care not to disclose, I wasn't aboard either vessel with my family. My parents had their Mammoth and my brothers piloted a Rhino together. The captain of the Mammoth wasn't very clever though and sought to overpower the Rogues, of whom Mr. Blitzer was barking at. Some ships were destroyed and plundered, but the mammoth had something worse in store for it. Very soon, you'll relate to that feeling."
As the story continued, Raynor's face changed from a casual facade. It was peeled away to reveal something much more sinister. His eyes, although empty, belied a mixture of feelings in him that would prove to be a volatile combination. A man of discipline in the military as he was, an agenda still laid behind those eyes and they shot right through Clif's like needles.
"As I was saying . . . ", Raynor continued nonchalantly, " . . . my parents were taken as slaves. I would assume only to serve for Outcast labor. I do know you Rogues are so cozy with them after all. Revenge used to be primary, but isn't vengeance such a futile thing? I mean, sure . . . I could kill Blitzer, but what would I gain? Oh no, I can get much more from him and from you as well."
Raynor carefully reached into the desk drawer and applied surgical gloves to his hands, securing them with a loud snap as he let go, almost a trademark of such a medical item.
"Please remove that filthy clothing and have a seat on the table here. I'll be quick with the exam and we'll have you on your way back to your hole." Raynor called to one of the guards outside the exam room, "Andrews, come in here and help me restrain the 'patient'."
Clif had expected more trouble from the guards. He had expected at least a black eye and a broken nose, but even his ribs were still intact. This actually concerned the Rogue, what were they saving him for?
The guards hauled him from the Raleigh and to the sterile white light of the Virtuous. The prison ship looked nothing like the hulking monsters it resembled. The ship had the look of a hospital. "Ah can almost smell tha antiseptics," Clif said to himself. He received only a cuff to the back of his head in response and grinned. Best to take what enjoyment he could, Clif assumed that it would be in short supply.
He was all but thrown into what appeared to be the medical ward of the ship. The lighting felt harsh to the Rogue, who had lived out most of his years aboard dark stations, and flew the abandoned space between the stars. Clif's eyes were still fighting to adjust when a man spoke.
"What a pleasure to have a Rogue in my office."
Clif recognized the voice as James Raynor. Doctor Raynor.
"Sadly, I was expecting Mr. Blitzer. We have a bit of an interesting history he and I." The man's shoe clanked annoyingly against the ground. It rang out and joined the light's assault against his senses. Eyes were only now beginning to adjust, and resolved the form of Raynor. The man was wearing what appeared to be a physician uniform of sorts, a stark contrast to Clif's filthy rags. A smoking cigarette sat framed by his finely trimmed beard. Slightly graying hair; the man was likely older than Clif. The Rogue studied his adversary.
"Since you're really in no position to leave, I'll go ahead and explain. My family was in the shipping business, Mr. Thurston. It was a convoy through Galileo eight years ago, in fact. For reasons I care not to disclose, I wasn't aboard either vessel with my family. My parents had their Mammoth and my brothers piloted a Rhino together. The captain of the Mammoth wasn't very clever though and sought to overpower the Rogues, of whom Mr. Blitzer was barking at. Some ships were destroyed and plundered, but the mammoth had something worse in store for it. Very soon, you'll relate to that feeling."
Yes, Clif thought, I am in trouble. The man was unsettling before, and the words had transformed his face into a twisted grimace of... hatred? Yes, that was definitely hatred. Perhaps a hint of curiosity.
"As I was saying, my parents were taken as slaves. I would assume only to serve for Outcast labor. I do know you Rogues are so cozy with them after all. Revenge used to be primary, but isn't vengeance such a futile thing? I mean, sure . . . I could kill Blitzer, but what would I gain? Oh no, I can get much more from him and from you as well."
The man turned his back, reaching into a drawer. Clif jolted at the snap of medical gloves.
"Please remove that filthy clothing and have a seat on the table here. I'll be quick with the exam and we'll have you on your way back to your hole. Andrews, come in here and help me restrain the 'patient'." The man gestured with his gloved hand flippantly.
Clif's eyes bugged at the notion. "Givin' me some sorta physical? Ain' need'a know 'bout my health ta throw me in a cell." He stood resolute with his arms folded and glared back at the good doctor.
And Andrews approached from behind. Clif watched the man's shadow move steadily towards him. Fighting would probably prove useless, but he wasn't about to be stripped down without a fight. Clif stooped, as if to untie a boot, but instead dove into Andrews with all the force he could muster. The man was thrown backwards with Clif atop him.
"What a disappointment." Raynor clicked his tongue in disgust.
"Is this all you people know how to do?" His mocking tone being directed at both men. "No matter, the situation is well in hand, Mr. Andrews. Please continue to be worthless and lay there."
James lifted a syringe from his coat and and flicked the needle as he lightly pressed his thumb upon the plunger. Some foul smelling fluid leaked out, but the air had been removed and he was ready to proceed.
"Sleep well, Mr. Thurston. When you wake up, we can discuss things in a more civil manner. As for you, Andrews, get up and leave. You're useless to me." With that, James shoved the needle through the air with wanton aim for Clif's neck and rapidly injected him with a potent sedative. Expecting the animal's retaliation, James sidestepped a swinging punch from the Rogue and watched as the force of his own failed assault brought him to the floor in an intoxicated heap.
It wouldn't be long until the Rogue was completely incapacitated and his defiled vestige was removed from him. Harsh leather straps were brought to his ankles and wrists and one around his midriff. His modesty was not spared and to further his disorientation and discomfort, a bright examination light was placed directly over his head, shining into his face for when his eyes once again opened.
"Just like a good and fair god, I'll give you one more chance to redeem yourself Clif Thurston. One day you will call me master and you will serve me with tenacity and loyalty. I will give you a new life... one free from the trappings of this pitiful mortal coil."
Raynor lightly stroked his face the way a father does his newborn child. He watched the incapacitated Rogue with keen eyes that looked far into his future. He could only wonder what went through Thurston's mind as he lay unconscious. Had he any idea what was held in store for him and would it go as easily as Raynor hoped? He knew this link would bring him closer to his eventual goal, but just what was it at this point?
A hundred voices seemed to speak to Raynor's thoughts as he lifted yet another syringe and plunged it into the scarred and weak black and blue flesh of his own arm.
"I'll be humanity's savior and this will be my son, anointed of my own flesh."
All that was left to do now was wait for Thurston's awakening. Raynor instructed the guards to leave the patient within his care. Clif would stay Raynor's prisoner under the pretense of urgent necessary monitoring. Who was to question him? With Doctor Riverton stationed on planet Pittsburgh to tend to the sick miners, no one could truly stand over Raynor. He was a free agent and one with great plans still yet to unfold.
Clif reared back to punch Andrews with two clasped fists, but was halted by a pain in his neck. The shock quickly gave way to a calm detached feeling. Clif felt his body slump and his vision blurred.
"Sleep well, Mr. Thurston..." was the last Clif heard before unconsciousness took him. He woke next in bonds, subjected to the continued audience of Doctor Raynor. The Rogue heard him walking around, his sight was obscured by the brightest of lights.
The Rogue did his best to lie still until the grogginess had worn away. He heard footsteps in the room, but the light made attempts to see painful. Slowly, Clif began to feel his limbs return to his control, though his head still swam. He waited until the footsteps seemed distant, and began struggling against the cords that held him.
Failure, the footsteps approached rapidly, and Clif flinched. He awaited the blow that never fell, instead, he felt the presence of his captor looming over him, partially obscuring the bright light. He sighed heavily. "So then, wha's ta be mah fate, or is it gonna be a surprise? I hate surprises."
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