A video feed showing a man with some kind of Hispanian ancestry, dressed in ragged combat armor and a fur of some kind, opens up. He's leaned a chair back onto its hind legs so that he could put his feet up on the desk. He's flipping a green coin of some sort.

"Hi, hello, greetings, all of that. Name's Max. Maxamillion Kress. Not-admin of Freeport 10."

He catches the coin, sitting up in his chair.

"Long story short, I did my job as general station errand boy earlier, which may have made a little. . . "problem" of yours worse. And, since I'm also the general station morals enforcer, the general station is going to help lessen that problem, too."

"If those boys cause problems that you need to "handle", you can send civilians up to Freeport 10. Justice is a lil' harsh around here, ain't easy keeping the anarchy down, ya know? But it's somewhere that hopefully won't be seeing direct warfare for a while. Plus, it's the least my boys can do to make up for not telling me the whole story."

He reclines again, flipping the coin, catching it, and closely inspecting what side it landed on.

"Lemme know if this sounds fair, yeah?"