"Trent we have to go faster." the words spurred our hero onwards. He ran towards his old hunk of junk on the landing pad, a now out of production Starflier.
"What in Dab's name is that?" Golanski was obviously extremely disappointed by Trent's poor choice in shipping, whilst keeping his disappointment at Trent's poor choice in fashion to himself. "You can't possibly hope to have that tinker toy turned into a weapon."
Trent looks at Golanski like a silent trader stares down a pirate and without saying a word, slowly puts his hand on Golanski's smooth face, tenderly stroking it. His eyes stare into his soul and he moved in closer and whispered into Golanski's tender ears. "One. Million. Credits." He paused for a while, Golanski swallowed his saliva. "They owe me. One. Million. Credits." With that, Trent retracts his face from Golanski and jumps into his Starflier.
"This is Freelancer 1-1. You're cleared for take-off."
![[Image: PKNeayo.png]](http://i.imgur.com/PKNeayo.png)