> Incoming Transmission
> Signal Lost...
> Signal Reacquired...
> Resuming Playback
> CommID: Ike Portman
> Location: Unspecified
> Encryption: Decaying
> Message Begins
'Owdy ladies and gents. If you're *crrk*-istening to this, then I s'pose I managed to adequately glue together this ol-*szzt*-ansmitter. Didn't wanna use the local comms to contact y'all, of co-*crrk*-se, as that might just give the locals a reason to keep me...erm...out of work.
I figure *szzt*-fore I even bother askin', I should at least give yeh some infor-*bzzzt*-about me. As I'm sure yeh could read on the message header, the name's Portman, and I call this hunk o-*chht* rock Houston my home. I'm 28 years of age an' about the only bit of property that I rightfully own is an old Junker ship, but it flies an' now it's got a workin' transmitter. Gov'n'ment housin' be damned.
My paw was no better off. Hell, he didn't even have the ship. He an' maw were good, hard-workin' folks, and what did they get? Nothin'. Maw's dead an' I haven't seen paw in years. Not that it matters, not like I've got anything special to tell 'im. Sun rises on Houston, sun sets on Houston, an' the best I can get is some temp work here'n'-*ksskt*-there.
O'course, that brings me to this transmit. I'm tired of the way things are. If the *fzzzt* jobs weren't bein' shipped out fer cheap labor, I might be able to actually find myself some work. Instead, we're looked down upon as if there's somethin-*shht* wrong with us just 'cause we're poor. Clearly I'm not the only guy who thinks this way, since y'all exist. My point is that I want to be another set of hands working toward that change.
I ain't the brightest when it comes to booksmarts, but I sure as hell got a hand with *psshk* mechanical things an' can do what I'm told. All I want to know is if there's room for another guy among y'all. Gimme a sign.
