"Finally free from that psycho Rheinlander!" thought Carl as he dragged a man's body off the pilot's seat. Stealing this Bactrian had been cake compared to fleeing from Gubelin, the guy was so paranoid he took no chances that someone would reveal him as a smuggler. As he settled in and went through the pre-flight checks, Carl couldn't help thinking about his previous life as a Rogue, the life he now intended to recover.
It certainly hadn't been easy, at least at first. His father had been a Rogue, but hadn't given his children any sort of special treatment. No, if they wanted to be pirates, they had to earn it. Long years of work polishing cleaning guns and whatnot had preceded Carl's first ship, a run-down Greyhound. From there, slowly, he had acquired better vessels and a small reputation around Liberty.
Then that capital ship had come around. Carl didn't expect a Siege Cruiser when he disrupted a trade lane in New York, and there was nothing he could do to avoid getting shot down. He managed to escape the ship taking him to Sugarland, but found himself shipless and jobless on Rochester base.
Desperate for work, he noticed a loud Rheinlander smuggler looking for a quartermaster. Desperate for money, he applied and lied his way through, knowing nothing of quartermastering.
Six months later, here he was, in pretty much the same situation but with a stolen Bactrian, a dead man on his hands and as many millions as he had been able to take from Gubelin. "Might as well go check out Buffalo..."