let's face it, a man can go crazy punching a clock just to sweat out the Castra / Nemo run, time and time again. Sure it pays the bills but whats the point. From supply runs on the outer perimeter to those little contracts you'd rather not get a receipt for. I run where I want when I want, and with whom I want, and that's just fine by me.
And for fun? Well, who doesn't like putting the boots to some young thug who stole his first Avenger and thinks he is going to be the next Oren Vik, if you find yourself with some unwelcome company, call me, the Comm's always open, the racks always full, and the safety is always off.
Now, just because you seem me flying solo don't ever make the mistake of thinking I'm alone out here. When you've been to every corner of this dark verse you make friends on even the coldest of moons, and I'm owed enough favours (and owe enough creds) that those comms work both ways.