“I’ll do it myself!”
The white skinned alien swiped away a dossier window off their screen. Displayed was a bio of a wanted criminal on six accounts of organized crime and four of terroristic attempts in four different locations. Deceased flashed in red text. It was without a doubt the elusive Cygnet bounty-hunters who were the ones who despatched him.
“Even with a league of you put together you couldn't get the job done.”
They opened up their trash can to reveal deleted profiles: Austin, Gregoran Oswald, the Clown Mafia. All who survived Cygnet’s wrath banded together for vengeance. Outlaw or Imperials of the Empire were thwarted by these individuals.
They sat up from their large chair and pushed away all the monitors hanging in front of their face. “Corg.” They had a soft but commanding voice.
A wiry and barely functioning droid limped into the dimly lit room.
“Yes Master Ailbe? How may I be of service?”
They clutched their knuckles and leaned forward staring out the blast shield window into the starry abyss. “What do you know of the Ferric Order?”
Lights flickered in the droid’s eyes trying to upload information as quick as possible. “The Ferric Order is an ancient organization of monks that seek enlightenment through means of combat. Each monk has a signature blade bound to them that opens their body up to Aether energies and allowing them to manifest that power into their abilities. The higher monks-"
A devilish grin grew across their face. “I want you to plant a distress beacon there on our arrival?”
“But milord, that may call for unwanted attention from the Cygn-" The droid stopped as it saw Ailbe turn around to face it.
“Oh Corg...that is the plan. Now don’t make me ask twice.”
The droid nodded. “Yes, right away.” It turned around and left the bridge of the ship.
Ailbe stared back to the black mass. “We will see how long your undefeated streak will last, Cygnet.”