If you're still listening on this frequency, that means you didn't drink or race yourself to death. You didn't slowly perish to whatever nasty STD you contracted at that shady Rogue brothel. You didn't even end up killed in action pursuing that one, high-value target. You're living, breathing, and maybe, just maybe, interested in picking up arms for the Company once more.

For those of you didn't yet close the transmission: I have some good news for you. A few days ago I was contacted by a Rogue still loyal to the old Liberty Rogue "Lord" Moka. Yeah, the same Moka that paid half of you a fortune for shooting up Liberty. Apparently, the old man managed to get himself imprisoned; and now he wants out. And - I suppose you saw this one coming - that's where you and I come in.

Unfortunately, the Liberty Rogues fell apart into an even more unorganized mess than they were under Moka's reign. The splinter group that remains loyal to Moka isn't quite as wealthy as the old, unified organization. For us, that means this isn't exactly the most well-paid job of our lives.

However, we're still talking two hundred million credits for what shouldn't be an unusually difficult job. A hundred of that up front - maybe that'll get those of you who gambled your fortunes away back in space. The Company, regretfully, no longer has hangars full of the latest and greatest in assassination technology, so we'll have to make do with more mundane ships and weapons.

Anyhow, we can talk details later. I might just be talking to myself here, after all. If not, please send a comm right back at me. All messages sent and received on this frequency should be visible to anyone who can receive it.

Don't be shy.