Jacob is leaning back on a chair, sitting on his room.
He's throwing one of those bouncy, yellow balls on the wall right beside the camera as he speaks.

Heeeey there fella's. How's space? Much shooting lately?

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.

Relax, I didn't came to chat. I got some pretty interesting news for all of you.

Most of you don't know where I came from, why I'm back and such. Most didn't bother to ask and I'm grateful.
For the past few years, however, immersed in politics, I had the time to think through a prank. A deadly one.
One I baptized Pitcher Plant and it's time to show it's colors.

Bounce.

Now, as I imagine some of you have been wondering, a few boxes of pretty interesting cargo
started to pile up around certain places open to us. Islay, Freeport 6... Trafalgar. Munitions, Light Arms, processors...

Pretty stuff, eh?

Bounce. Jacob smirks.

I should know, since I requested it. But let me explain what the operation Pitcher Plant stands for.

Three years ago, I was standing as an aid to one man called Professor Stephan. He was a man of politics, one who worked on the Green Front.
Yea, that crooked, crippled political side of us, I know. He was one of the movement engaged in the discussions of Leeds.
Wasn't exactly the best player, but he had his moments. It was when I saw him speak about what he called the "Q-Boat"
- the simple idea of dressing an argument as an useless one, but using it as trap to win an argument - that I had my mind blown.

He laughs.

Let's face it: We always lacked firepower.
The Molly's can't stand us. Most of us don't stand Outcasts. The Forces got their mighty Cruisers.
And... Well, honestly? I never found the Corsairs to be the best of friends.

And they all got they big toys to play with.

He makes a movement as if typing on mid-air and while he speaks a hologram raises up, near the camera.

That's why I cooked this baby up:


As, I hope at least half of, you know, this is one of those "Luxury Liners", OS&C so much prize.
Four thousand and three hundred units of cargo space, eleven turret mounts, iridium plating shell
and enough unnecessary compartments to make Gaia cry three days every time one of these hit space.

Hence, comes the cargo.

Over the last weeks we have been receiving what is going to be used to refit all the belly of this beast.
I have dedicated myself to the study and ways to understand the engines and better the processor units so energy does not go to waste.
I intend to finish my project by the end of this month.

Jacob relaxes once more on the chair and returns playing with the ball.

My hope is that this beast will let us fight on better terms on future endeavours.
I know, for a fact, that the French Navy will see this action with suspicion, but I hope we might agree that helping them,
for the moment, is the best thing to be done.

*Sight* And well, I know it is a liner and that there are beasts stronger than these...
And there's still the issue that the power core might not adjust well to our green technologies...
It's better than nothing at all, however, and it will be a damn good spit on those Tourists faces.

To end this, let me just say that... with all due honesty, this is not something I want to celebrate alone.
She still needs a name, you know?

So I call out of you, wherever you, Gaians, are and start retaking whatever arms you laid down.
The fight is coming back.

Pitcher Plant is on.

The ball is thrown on the camera, which now turns off.

As the cam turns on it depicts... the ceiling?
Soon after, following a few voices and laughter, the camera is put on it's right place,
showing the smiling face of Jacob.

What's up! Exclusive news! Haha!

Jacob turns the camera to a side wall, where a hologram display cycles through three images.



See that? Those are security feeds from our borders. That's our "Luxury Liner" now.
It still needs baptism, but we already took it on a tour around Faroe!

It has been fully equipped with combat turrets, the best shield available and one of the best thrusters we could find.
The reengineering of the engines went so smooth I had to take a break for a while. I couldn't stop laughing!
For real, I cannot understand how those damn Tourists manage to fly anything larger than a flea at all!
So many redundant circuits that when I finished dismantling the powercore we had enough spare parts to build two or three Chameleons.

Jacob breathes deeply, apparently in deep thought.

It seems they delivered.

Soon, party noise arises again and Jacob is taken away from the stand, loosing himself on the crowd.
The camera keeps focused on the hologram for a few, and stays so until it's power saving system turns on.