To: THE GUILD "CORE" ATTN: YOU WANT TO EXAMINE THIS PACKAGE

[HuggieSunrise]

This message was sent by personal courier A young boy who may have spent hours before literally handling the bright yellow wrapped box with a crude drawn eye with a blood red teardrop.

The contents contain a set of nural net recordings.. a type of :this is who I am: dossier. A small vial of a purple liquid. and at the bottom a handwritten letter.


" Forgive my being out of touch for a year as I have no idea of who is in charge. I'm desperate and more or less screwed unless I warn you first.

I've spent much of my life looking for meaning. Despite serious setbacks in what you'd call the morality department. I lack half a brain to formulate such moral stumbling blocks, But what your going to be interested in is my continued survival.

For the past years and some months I have been an exarch among the.. foremost Nomad Cult. And for that time things were fine. I served a greater purpose and had friends and acquaintanceship. But somethings changed, since the nomads encountered..thier.."shift" or sickness has manifested changes in them.

(this maybe news to you hell I might sound pippin nuts but the important thing is I have proof and rudimentary knowledge of certain technologies I know you want.)

After the Toledo battle... things within the cult have changed a great deal... there are less exsarchs whom are.. "fully" human.. if you get my meaning.. and the problem is I'm thinking im too machine for their liking.

I started life as a volunteer in the ZDF rose to the rank of gunboat captain.. lost it all to Nomads.. and well the rest to slavers. I blamed the slavers.

Now these aliens are taking away this new family... I have but my experience and verifiable recordings and and data in my positronic lobe of my brain implants to give you for my rescue.

Im not some over dramatic fool either...The McKenna family was reared on robotics and cybernetics.. I have yet to see anyone whos on par with our craftsmanship. I am a professional cyber-technician all the implants I have are mine and without compromising your members humanity I know my patented tech.. along with certain projects the cult have let me witness and study.. We can help one another.. and maybe stop these things from blowing away another planet..

Or taking away anymore families..

My name is Leonard Mckenna... I go by the terrorist MO Crying man. My crew and I have been ordered to pick up slaves from the Pens... and Deliver them Directly into a highly classified drop off point in the Omicrons.

I intend to depart my ship by sabotaging it during the tedious docking procedures with the nomad cargo depot. Theyll think its technical until they notice my nanites doing the damage.

They are going to stop at -nothing- to get me back... In fact as of this moment Ive already been dis invited to ...family dinner as it were..

There is a "drop" in Coronado for messages...

ill need a reply. if there's nothing there ill assume Im a dead man. and you can disregard the disk i left there for you that has my flight-path towards Delta to Dabdouro.

The gifts herein are yours now... Its all I could safely send. I can give much more in person. Save me.. arrest me.. whatever you need to do.. To get me out of here alive, and youll have my loyalty."

-L.M.

An general delivery secure box on barrier station is the drop point. You can confirm there is a package for the guild there from a junker company called Mckenna.Inc.