A tall and well built human steps forward towards a new conference podium, dressed in a sharp suit and holding a solitary paper in his hand. He places it on the lectern and looks at the gathering of reporters and cameramen and begins to speak, his mellow, elecuted voice filling the space between those who had come to watch and himself.

"People of the Galaxy, I have no doubt that you have been informed, or have seen for yourself, the terrible fate that befell Renketsu Trading. Everything Jake has said, and some of that which Lara has said has, indeed, been true."

He pauses for a moment, giving a slight glance to his cuesheet.

"However, I wish to make the following statement: Renketsu Trading, according to the technical readouts, was worth 420 million credits. Although only some of this was stealable, the rest disappeared once you had forced it to close. I hope you're happy."

He looks down once more, except this time in a different manner. He looks as though he is trying to hold back emotion.

"Lara, you have shamed yourself beyond repair. You have brought an end to damned fine faction, in the hope to destroy me. Well you've failed. Less than 24 hours ago, I entered talks with reknowned trader and a personal friend, Horley Cyan, to decide and what we can do in the wake of this catastrophe. You'll be pleased to know that we have come to the conclusion to found a faction together, and to make sure that nothing like this happens again."

Bren pauses, allowing his voice to return from the feverpitch it reached.

"All I have left to say to you, Lara, is this;"

Bren stretches his arm towards the camera and raises his index and middle finger towards the viewers. Without saying another word, and encompassed by the torrent of questions from reporters, Bren leaves the same way he came.

The screen flicks back to the Imperial News Network.