defy the tyrannous stars

There was no place in the verse quite like the Outer Rim.
Despite unknowable and incalculable dangers at almost every turn, there was nothing that made Mynock feel more at peace then when he was drifting out here in the black. Master and commander of his own destiny. Galactic powers rose and fell all around them, each seeking to enforce order as they saw it. All his life he had tried to document the absurdity of it all, to hold these great men of civilization's faces up to the mirror so they could see what fools they were.
When that had inevitably failed, Dubrillion had fallen in with a far more radical crowd than he was used to, and now he found himself out here babysitting supply runs. The work was that of a glorified transport hauler, but his destination was what made this task so special. Few knew of the modest Temple that stood on Binaros, an otherwise unremarkable world near the galaxy's southern spiral arm. Even fewer knew of the Underground base that operated there, monitoring for pirate activity or worse.
The worst part of the job was traveling in such an unremarkable freighter, but for obvious reasons it wouldn't do to fly anything registered under his real name out to a secret rebel base. Unfamiliar with the layout of the cockpit display before him, Mynock didn't immediately notice the flashing alert emanating from the comms panel.
"J57, check it out," he called over to his droid companion, "A message from Binaros. Must be good, if they're breaking comm silence."
He played the transmission, and his eyes widened in horror and fear.
"Jay, frame me up."
J57 was a simple cam droid, a relic from his time as a civilian correspondent, but over the years Mynock had modified it, adding new capabilities and upgrading its cognitive matrix. He needed to warn the others, and J57 would make sure that whatever message he recorded was sent in code through the proper Underground frequencies.
Binaros was under attack.