Project Boussh: True Colours
by Brad Corletti

The B-wing screamed. Engines roared as they kicked in, propelling the
B-wing into the air at a tremendous speed. Brad held the throttle
against its stop, his teeth clenched in a furious snarl.

Nothing. He had nothing left. Just a B-wing, a droid factory, and a
lot of anger. His allies had turned against him. The New Republic had
come to his world and destroyed him as thoroughly as if they had
bombarded his home. He screamed in rage.

He spared a glance at his sensor display. No sign of pursuit. At least
he had that. Dorset didn't want him dead.

But others would. He didn't dare enter the airspace of the United
States - the Rogues and Wraiths there would scramble and shoot him
down.

He sighed. He couldn't go anywhere.

The sound of wind rushing past his B-wing slackened off. The blue of
the sky began to darken. Within moments there was no sound and he
could see nothing but stars and the blackness of space.

Apparently there was a cloaked Star Destroyer out here. For the life
of him he couldn't remember how they'd discovered that little piece of
information. Maybe he was about to hit it. That would certainly solve
his problems. No, Star Destroyers are only a mile long or so. There's
a lot of space. Space is big.

Maybe he could jump out. Go someplace else. And hope the hammer never
fell. No, he got the feeling that when the CorSec Jedi Corran Horn
found out about his involvement, he would not rest until Brad was in
Cracken's hands.

That was a fate Brad dearly wished to avoid.

Brad's sensor panel pinged. He glanced at it, curious. The display
showed the remains of structures on the dark side of the moon, which
he had just passed on his wild flight.

Structures? On the moon? He cut his throttle and brough the B-wing
around.

The small facility appeared to have been destroyed only recently.
Vapor plumes were still visible from some of the ruins. His comms
systems were picking up no beacons of any sort, but he cruised closer
anyway, his sensors seeking any signs of life.

They found none.

Brad shook his head sadly. More lives lost.

I wonder how many lives my droids have taken. No, I do NOT want to
think about that!

Angrily, he shrugged the thought off. He couldn't do anything about
the past.

No, it was time to create a future. And if the New Republic wouldn't
have him...

He switched his comm unit over to Imperial channels. Current Imperial
channels. And engaged his comm system's current Imperial decrypter.

The decrypter he hadn't been able to use earlier because it would have
raised too many suspicions, no matter how much he'd wanted to.

In a way, it would have been better if he'd had, but he'd hoped to
have completed the mission without compromising himself. Too late for
that now.

He picked up a faint transmission being bounced off a satellite. His
fingers danced over his comm console; he traced the signal back to its
point of origin. Melbourne, Australia.

He swung his fighter back towards the Earth and accelerated. As he
listened, a predatory grin grew on his face.

If the New Republic wouldn't have him...

He glanced at the cargo compartment, the place he kept his dark grey
Imperial uniform.

It was time to show the New Republic his true colours.