You have never met me. And yet I owe you my life. A debt more profound than I can ever truly repay. But for the unknowing sacrifice of one of yours I would not be sitting here composing this letter. A man whom I never had the opportunity to thank personally, yet has become a lost brother.
I do not wish to bore you with details. If you wish I can forward you a full copy of my personal logs from those days for your perusal. Suffice it to say, I have very little left in my life. A small transport ship. A loyal crew, and a memory of those cramped weeks hidden in a half-disemboweled Corsair Gladiator with only enough power to operate life-support, a view screen, and maneuvering thrusters; my desperate attempt to escape Rogue clutches by drifting with the random debris towards the nearest jump hole.
I had nothing to keep me company in those weeks other than the personal logs of my savior ships previous inhabitant. I learned much about him, and of yourselves and your culture through those logs. On my return to liberty, my previous life destroyed in my long absence...those logs kept returning to me. They resonated in a life that had not seen much else resonate. My only thought on my return and finding the life I knew gone by without me...was to get a ship...keep flying. The only thing that matters.
I realize that I can't thank that man who, months after his tragic end provided me with my means of salvation. But the knowledge I know of him and of your culture impels me to a debt of immense gratitude to those who gave him to this world.
My ship is sturdy. My crew brave. We are on good terms with The inner core houses, and can offer our transport services to bases and areas where your own pilots may be unable to safely land. I and my crew offer to procure necessary goods that the elite of the core take for granted, but are desperately needed in Corsair space. Profit is no motive, I have other endeavors for such gain. But a debt of gratitude that compels me to aid the plight of your civilians in whatever small way my ship can.
I ask for no weapons. Nor money. Nor ships. Merely passage into your space and lading at your bases to bring those necessities to you. You may of course at any time ask of me a specific commodity to a specific region and I shall of course do my best to accommodate...with the understanding that if I should lose my status with the house factions due to smuggling, my usefulness to you would ultimately suffer. With no specific missions, I will endeavor to provide your people with as much food, water, goods and life giving commodities as I can transport, regardless of profit.
If you would grant me passage to your space, respond on this frequency. I look forward to your reply.
Sincerely
Ryle Amarell
Independent Trading Vessel Shepherd's Gate.
Border World Transport Ship