Job's done.
Met the New Republic contact at the rendezvous. Smooth handoff. Sorr's their problem now. They'll transport him to Coruscant for trial.
Fifty thousand credits transferred to my account. Verified. Clean.
The Republic officer tried to recruit me. "The galaxy needs hunters with your skills." I declined. I work for the Guild. I work for myself. I don't work for governments.
Engine repairs are already scheduled. The Crest will run better than she has in months.
This was a good hunt. Clean. Professional. No casualties. Target delivered alive, as contracted.
Some jobs remind you why you do this. Not for the credits. Not for the reputation.
For the code.
Related: where it started, what it means
This is the way.