On a rocky planet in the Thrugii system, a crowd had gathered around the gallows. Many jeered; some prayed. The captured crew of the modified "assault" bulk freighter stared past the throng defiantly, prepared to meet their fate with indifference. Among the onlookers, a young boy watched silently, his eyes moist and unfocusing. His older sister had vanished after she helped him escape the ship, leaving only her old Arakyd ACP scattergun to keep him company.

     Below the platform, the pirates' feet kicked in vain as they reached the ends of their ropes, and the boy watched as the life escaped from what was left of his family. His family ship, the Jexxel, had been detained in port and boarded; even now it was being scuttled for scrap. As the spectacle finished and the crowd dispersed, the young boy stumbled away into the darkness.

     ...

     Old memories brought him little joy, but Mallios had been unable to drown them after two and-a-half decades of trying. They were no longer relevant, and only likely to get him killed. He pushed the thought from his mind and drained the last sips of his whiskey; it was time to get to work. He stepped back from the bar, his cloak billowing with the movement and threatening to reveal his form-fitting armor underneath. He grabbed his old blaster and headed towards the door. There were credits to collect and a crew to pay.