During a routine tax collection patrol throughout your Empire, my crew and I came across something particularly interesting after sneaking past the New Tokyo system's defenses:
Si, this is indeed your dear Prime Minister's luxury liner, all alone without any escort to be seen nearby. Have budget cuts affected your top politicians' security? Or is this simply a case of major hubris? Who knows, but it surely is amusing to think about. Nevertheless, I was hoping to have a friendly chat with her, and perhaps collect a hefty tribute afterwards. After all, she must be very wealthy to afford a ship like that. Unfortunately, it seems your Prime Minister is terrified of a single unsupported Corsair ship deep in her territory! Quite the example she sets for her populace, isn't it?
Your Prime Minister did not even address a single word to me, and immediately scurried away to Planet New Tokyo's surface. Quite rude, I must say. So much for your elite's manners! As a consequence of such behavior, I shall reveal to the people of Kusari what your dear Prime Minister is spending your hard-earned creditos on.
It seems your Prime Minister would rather spend the people's tax money on satisfying her own depraved urges, rather than improving the lackluster security of her Empire! I truly wonder what the average Kusari citizen would think of this. This is a clear sign of the decadence of the once-mighty Empire of Kusari. A real empire, such as our glorious Imperio Corsario, spends the tribute it collects on essentials such as food, materials and warships, not on quenching the animalistic desires of a select few at the expense of the common man and woman. And with that, I leave you all to ponder on the state of your House. Perhaps I shall meet your elite again, or maybe they will just stay hidden away like ratas, in awe and fear of our might. Only time will tell.
Eternal glory to the superior Corsair Empire, Commander of the Mors Certissima
Ξ Ξ Ξ Ξ ❀ From: Ayaki Kanokoki
Ξ Ξ Ξ Ξ
Ξ Ξ Ξ Ξ ❀ To: That confused Corsair
Ξ Ξ Ξ Ξ
Ξ Ξ Ξ Ξ ❀ Subject: Are you ok? Do you need help?
Hey, uh.
I am normally not a fan of this whole neural-net messaging stuff but I felt so sad for you, I just had to do this.
Hi, I'm Ayaki Kanokoki, song writer and master of the piano and keyboard for Iki-Iki Gari. Look, you might go "Who?" but I don't care about you being uncultured.
We happen to be this "depravity" you think about, what a dirty lonely man you must be - like, who hides behind a silly picture like this if not someone lonely and hoping for depravity themselves? Sorry to disappoint, Corsairs are generally filthy and we're a band, not strippers. Go ahead and blame the way Interspace codifies "cargo", including human cargo.
Our Imperial Cuteness was not on board the vessel either, sorry to disappoint you again. Don't know if nobody told you before your "tax collection" (such nonsense, really) but the Sunekosuri is a privately operated vessel by her family and business. Paid by them, used by them, frequented by lots of guests. Think about the Hawaii but much more stylish and dignified, for a reference you might be able to grasp. Why wouldn't they just give no two thoughts about you and leave the area? Honestly I should have done the same, come to think of it.. but nobody seems to care about you, so Ayi-Ayaki will be there for you. At least here. For once. Don't hope for more but feel free to tune in to our songs, these might even put a smile on your grumpy, hidden probably hideous face! We intend to stay on board for longer but I'm afraid your attitude won't make it so you end up on the guest list. Oh and if you disrupt one of our performances, I'll see for a Hogosha to send a pipe bomb straight to your home on Crete.
Anyway, enough about this. I am awesome, you're probably not.
Bye-bye~
- The great Ayi-Ayaki!
It appears I struck a nerve after all, as evidenced by your baseless assumptions about my person. Why should I believe anything you say? For all I know, your Prime Minister was indeed on board that ship, cowering at my sudden appearance right next to her stronghold of Planet New Tokyo.
A word of advice, my dear. Worry less about my face or my private life, and worry more about your safety and the laughably deficient security that allowed me to get so close to your liner in the first place. Music is pleasant, until you are facing a barrage of gunfire because you thought you could get away without paying tribute to us.
And please, spare me the empty threats. We both know the Hogosha would not dare to "send a pipe bomb" straight to Creta. I am much more likely to perish from laughter.