The Dealer watched the two ships drop, pondering for a moment the purpose of the interdiction. What would drive a veteran of the Pilot's Federation to interdict a newcomer in an Eagle? Without hesitation, but perhaps to satiate a small curiosity, the pilot approached the wake, and dropped.

Ash, metal, and blood. The cloud that had been the Eagle dissipated; in it's wake, a mountain of steel in the shape of an Imperial Cutter took form.
For a moment, they made eye contact, and the Dealer could have shrunk in their seat. The eyes of the Murderer were cold, unfeeling; begging for conflict, for violence.

Surely engaging this pilot was suicide; but the Dealer had a job to do.
He pushed forward on the throttle; and a massive, fiery heart screamed with delight. His metal steed surged forward into the dark, hardpoints at the ready.

This is what he lived for, after all.

Founded in Year 3302, the 51st Death Dealers are a privately owned and operated organization dedicated to eradicating troublesome pilots throughout the galaxy.

Pilots of the 51st must demonstrate exceptional combative and tracking capabilities, and are extensively trained in all fields applicable to the cause.

"Do not fear the dark; prepare for what snuffs the light."