BHG| recruitment

[Strichev]

---Incoming Transmission---
--CommID: Weikhard Clark--
-Ship Details: Manta, that's the VHF, isn't it?

(In a gloomy room, as if the scene got warped from one of the cheaper Liberty production films a man, perhaps in his late thirties sits. A table with a pistol right next to a bottle can be seen. Warily he begins to speak in an auspicious tone.)

Now then, you probably want to hear my whole story. From toddler days on? Well, it might sound inane, but I am an orphan. My father got killed in a crossfire between a ruthless pirate named...

(a loud clasp can be heard, much like the sound of a good old-fashioned self administered slap)

I've been lying for too long, forgive me. It gets in your blood, you know. So, I'll get straight to the more recent events in my oh-so-remarkable life. A couple of years ago - you're not into details, I hope - I sort of decided that there is just too much money piled in the hands of stupid, naive people. And that anyone smart enough has the right to become a conman. I've thought I'm smart enough. I had this nice complicated cargo insurance scheme going on, all complicated, but not too complicated as not to drive those moneybags away. The thing was, I wasn't smart enough. And now I've got a whole lot of angry costumers with shiny machetes and similarly sharp utensils on my back. Apart from the few hired thugs with automatic plasma rifles. Wherever I turn, they might be there already. I have nowhere to go, except space. And even there there is no guarantee that I wouldn't end up dead. For the credits....the firm's assets have long since been liquidised. As I'm not giving up my life just yet, the Guild is the best way out, considering I used to fly a few fighters around Bretonia in my past.

S.K.Y.P.E. Andrew-Sokol

Signed,

Weikhard Clark

-End of Transmission-
--Data Connection Lost--