A man looking streight out of an old western, Gruff, dressed in a flannel shirt with a leather vest, blue jeans, cowboy boots with spurs, and a stetson hat stood before the communication console, pondering his future. So much was on the man's mind, so much he had seen. Behind him, in the hold of his CSV, was everything ranging from gold to quantum multiplexors to stranger devices.
Finally, the man began to compose his message, and start on his new journey.
INCOMMING ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION
Source: CobaltWatas
Destination: .:j:.unker congress
Subject: Recruitment
Well howdy ya'll.
The name's Cobalt Watsas, life long Junker an' scrapper... well... naw, ah've been at it for 'bout six months now. But ah've held true to the Junker beliefs and mah love of scrappin' and salvagin', but Ah've always yerned fer' more.
After ah learned mah long lost brother was still alive, ah was inspired. If he can create a Cyborg army, surround himself with pretty Kusarian women, an' plot to take over the universe, then why can't I? Since 'then, ah've seen all kinds o' hardships, mah eyes were open. Hogosha goons an Farmers pilligin an rapin, squishies roamin' about and turnin' innocent folks' brains to mush, Zeeners makin' all kinds o' trouble...
...plus, ah don't got no dang money...
Ah am willin' ta pledge mahself, mah CSV, and mah support to the Junker Congress! If ya'll want me to, ah can be sneaky, subtle, an' discreet. And ah would never be disloyal to the Junkers. Never have. Never will.
But ah ain't got much else ta do. Mah only survivin' family is a megalomaniacal robot, most o' mah friends got somethin' wrong with 'em, ah got no money, an ah think someone put a bounty on mah head. An ah got no direction...
Ah wanna be all ah can be! An' help out ta' better mankind! An' get some dang money, women, an' whiskey in the process, hehehe.
So that's it. Ah leave mah fate in yer' hands, Noble Congressmen...
