Manifesto
Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big ship, choose washing machines, jets, compact holo players and electrical airlock openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and starship insurance. Choose fixed ship PACKAGES. Choose a starter ship. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suit on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that bench watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking space food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable hanger, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up comrades you spawned to replace yourselves. Choose your future. Choose life… But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin’ else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who needs reasons when you’ve got bounties?
Charter
It does not matter who we are
We just need more lemon pledge.
Your Constellation is under attack
You – We’re under attack shields?
Your Trust CB4 crew Member – I Clean toilets.