Making my way down the district, now on the edge of Quillenbard Heights, my head still in a gentle spin, I caught the smell of street food that hit like a freight train. My stomach growled in response, but something else was a buzz in the air. The usual Friday night chatter, who's playing at Twin Palms, how drunk someone is, or which unlucky soul caught something after a trip to Topcat's, was missing. Instead, I heard hushed whispers: Leon Stardust, Sabre of Meirgraves, Amira Umbrose, largest bounty ever put on one person.

Clearly, something big had gone down.

I paused my food search to figure out what the fuss was about. From the pieces I picked up, it seemed like Leon Stardust, the legendary gentleman thief, The Contender, The Wolf of Alpha Centauri, or a whole litany of other nicknames, had pulled off another caper. Curious, I made my way over to a holomatrix screen nearby, conveniently broadcasting the latest update from my “absolute favorite” news network, Local Group News Network (LGNN).

The headline flashed:

Breaking News! Leon Stardust Strikes Again – Largest Bounty in Galactic History Issued by Imperium

In a shocking development, intergalactic thief Leon Stardust has successfully stolen one of the Imperium’s most prized national treasures, the Sabre of Meirgraves. The ancient weapon, once wielded by the infamous tyrant Crimson Meirgraves, was considered an untouchable artifact of Legusian history. The heist took place mere hours ago, with Stardust bypassing the museum’s state-of-the-art security systems in less than five minutes.

As Stardust made his escape aboard an FM Pod, the facility’s security captured the first-ever image of the elusive thief. These images confirmed a long-standing rumor: Stardust is none other than Leonicio Saffirus, the mask prince of Nostratore, who vanished decades ago on the very day he was supposed to be Masked Reino of Casa Safirus.

The Imperium's current leader, Kriegan Amira Umbrose, issued a statement denouncing Stardust’s actions and accused him of embodying Nostratorian elitism. In retaliation, she placed the largest bounty ever recorded on a single individual, a staggering 100,000,000,000 G//C.

While the Palace of Harmonies in Nostratore has yet to comment on the reappearance of their long-lost prince, insiders suggest tensions between Nostratore and the Imperium are likely to escalate. It is also worth noting that Stardust, notorious for leaving calling cards before his heists, provided no such warning this time, marking a significant departure from his usual style.

Reports from Grey Outposts, where bounty hunters gather between jobs, indicate a frenzy of activity as countless hunters scrambled to take to the galaxy in search of Stardust. The hunt is on, and the galaxy is holding its breath.

This is a developing story.

Holy shit. Even amidst the bustling street, the shock on people’s faces, especially the Strexians, was palpable. Leon had been missing since the 1960s (Gregorian), and now here he was, pulling off the heist of a century. And to top it off, he was the direct descendant of Corbett Safirus, the very man who beheaded Crimson Meirgraves and liberated Nostratore from Legusian occupation. What makes a guy like that, born into a royal family, ditch everything and become a galactic thief? Hard times? Madness? Or maybe, just maybe, he was in it for the love of the game.

Weaving my way through the thickening crowd, I decided to duck into one of the night market alleys leading toward Quillenbard Heights. My stomach reminded me of the task at hand, food, but the buzz about Leon Stardust followed me everywhere. The stalls were packed, each one more alive with gossip about his latest escapade. As I walked deeper into the alley, I caught snippets of conversation from the vendors and customers alike, most of it sounding exactly how I’d expected.

“Did you see the image they released? I mean, I already thought he was hot, but damn…” an enby at a skewer stall chuckled, their technicolor hair catching the neon lights as they added more charcoal to the grill.

“He’s got that whole brooding rogue thing going on. Now that we know he’s the lost nostro prince? Makes him even more irresistible,” another swooned from behind a counter, laying out rows of Donsdelia Rellenos with an exaggerated sigh.

I rolled my eyes. Of course, the galaxy was already romanticizing the hell out of him. People had been fetishizing Leon Stardust for years, long before they even knew what he looked like. The idea of the charming, untouchable gentleman thief had captured everyone’s imagination. Now, with his actual face plastered across holoscreens, the swooning had gone from vague fantasy to full-blown infatuation.

Behind me, I overheard a conversation from a vendor. “Forget the Sabre. Remember when he stole the Original Cosmitosh recipe from Salverilium Grey? Did it out of spite, too.”

“Oh yeah,” another chimed in, leaning over the counter of their stall. “He broke into Salverilium Grey’s private estate on Beldasia Omega and snatched the original Cosmitosh formula right from under the Grey Syndicate's nose. That stunt nearly started a syndicate war, but the best part? It’s rumored Leon didn’t even need the formula, he did it just to piss off Grey. Now everything else out there is just watered-down junk.”

That one made me pause. The knock-off rumor had been floating around for years, and honestly, I could believe it. I remember the old Cosmitosh, that stuff was potent. One hit and you felt like your brain was rewiring itself on the spot. Now? The newer stuff was mellower, still good, but nothing like what it used to be. But Leon's spiteful theft just for the thrill of it? Yeah, that tracks.

“Oh, please,” someone else said, “don’t forget about when he flew that cargo hauler through an asteroid field at Surf Factor x1.”

“That doesn’t sound that impressive-” a passerby began, but was cut off.

“At light speed, genius. He maneuvered through a field of rocks the size of planets at the speed of light. Still don’t think that’s impressive?”

I smirked, shaking my head as I listened to the wild stories piling up. Leon Stardust was more than just a thief, he was practically a legend. Of course, with stunts like that under his belt, it made sense people couldn’t stop talking about him.

“Oh, if I were just fifty years younger…” an older Strexian woman murmured from her stall, fanning herself in mock regret. Her companion, who looked like he was in his late 300s, scoffed.

“Please. Even if you were fifty years younger, you'd still be too slow to keep up with him.”

I snorted. Strexians lived for centuries, so a comment like that wasn’t as far-fetched as it would be for a human. Leon Stardust himself was over 150 years old, but by Strexian standards, he was in the prime of his life, equivalent to a guy in his mid-to-late twenties. His age just added to the allure for those who found him fascinating.

As I made my way further into the alley, the conversation began to shift from playful swooning to something more serious. A group of Strexians were gathered nearby, arguing about whether Leon was a hero or a traitor. The voices rose above the din of the market, echoing off the walls.

“Leon is a hero!” shouted a Nostratorian woman with dark green hair. “He’s a rogue who undermines that forsaken regime, just like Corbett Safirus laughed in the face of Crimson Meirgraves!”

An older man, likely in his 400s, with muted red hair and the classic high society Nostratorian accent, disagreed fiercely. “Leonicio is a traitor! He rejected El Codice De Centauri Regia for a life of crime. No doubt, some Underevo Solarian filled his head with nonsense.”

His eyes landed on me, probably the only human, or “Solarian” as Strexians like to call us, in sight. Before I could respond, another man, this one with purple hair and the accent of Saiverrick, a cluster of islands on Strexia, shoved the old man’s shoulder.

“It’s that same snobbishness you Nostro fops love parading around that gives the whole planet a bad name.”

The old man sneered back. “You stay out of this, Island Dweller!”

Just as the purple-haired guy raised his fist to strike, a BCPD beat cop strolled up, casually stepping between the two. “Alright, alright, break it up,” she said, clearly used to this kind of Strexian feud. “No need to reenact the Wars of Influence in the middle of the night market.”

The old man sighed in relief at the cop’s presence. “Ah, good! Constable, arrest this rata de isla! He put his dirty hands on me!” the xenophobic geezer demanded, puffing himself up like he was about to faint from outrage.

“Hey, this nostro relic started it!” the purple-haired guy shouted back, clearly pissed off.

“Yeah, well, I’m ending it. Go back to your business,” the cop snapped at both of them, hand resting on her citation booklet like she was about two seconds away from slapping them both with a fine. The old man crossed his arms, turned his nose up, and waddled off in what I could only describe as a dramatic pout-waddle.