The screen filled with fuzz for a moment, before settling again, the picture that of a trader captain, bloodied and battered, his hands behind his back, bound with cord. The sound of heavy boots clanking across the grated floor sounds loudly off camera, before the lower half of a black-suited man appears in the picture. The black attired man bends to get his face in the camera.
The shaggy, malevolent look of the pirate is more than enough to cause a few gasps around the conference room of the Bretonian traders. The man grins, revealing pure red teeth, filed to a point, to the last one. He turns his head, and spits on the trader behind him. Turning back, he speaks, his voice low and rumbling, foreboding and cruel.
"I'm fully aware this is your most prized trader captain, little men, so I'm going to make this quick. You know what we want here in Bretonia, so don't **** with that, sound good? I'm glad we can come to an understanding." The man turns back to the captain, pulls a pistol from his jacket and puts it to the captives temple. "Oh, and one more thing? He won't come back from the grave this time."
A flash of light, a bang, and a thud, and the camera goes black. The sound however, is left running, and the butcher of the corpse can be heard quite clearly. An airlock nearby cycles, and again, as what one would assume to be the pieces of a body are thrown through the airlock.
Twenty years later. . .
A small trade ship is seen flying through Bretonia space, broadcasting no identification, no callsigns, no ID. A few of the older Bretonian traders remark that the insignia on the side seems remarkably similar to an old traders vessel. Impossible though, he's been dead for 20 years. . .
![[Image: 300ax.gif]](http://i167.photobucket.com/albums/u154/HamsterSniper/300ax.gif)