Just making this clear: don't call me Franklin. I prefer "Frank" or "Wells."
Now, I've been trying to scrape out a living as an independent trader, and let's face it, it's next to impossible without help. Oh, it's no problem if you have connections and such, but Zoners rarely have that privelage.
Also, I owe quite a few people quite a bit of money. But hey, that's what you get when you gamble with smugglers, and Mollys aren't all too keen about strangers who can't pay on their turf. Also, betting with your ship. Really dumb idea. So basically, I'm stuck back at Pennsylvania with a Rhino. Fun times.
My point: I wanna throw in with you guys. You've got a pretty sweet system goin' on here. Pay's fair, get to fly around the Borders, and, honestly, I'd rather be in a big ship surrounded by guys with big guns when someone gets sick of waitin' for their credits.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
