Out of Cryo and into the Empire's Fryingpan

So they want a trailer, is that what they've done to my poor scan bot? That Eldan optical filter I put on it before my apparent cryo freeze cost me more than your entire family. Now I'll have to make do with this.  Ahem. Generic localised time greeting, I am Braxxus. Currently...I have no idea where, but some form of ship. And this is what happens when you don't read the small print fora Protostar Communications Network contract.  Or be informed of the contract at all by your lead scientist... Sorry. From the many pages of this contract, that's just been handed to me, I must travel to the surface of...oh we found it then, good...and chronicle what unfolds. I should note that  my genome sequence has...vicious life forms, multiple layers of security...penalty of death...contracted for life...

You know what I've had it up to here! You've genetically engineered me, a less chaotic 'fur ball', forced me into the military and sciences and you know what...Ok I'm starting to tick, and when I get angry those long suppressed Chua instincts you wanted gone, well laughter filled mass murder is something I'm not crossing off my list. Not just yet.


So, why do I have to do this? I'm guessing it has something to do with the time I'm was documenting my discoveries when one of my holo recordings goes viral on the Dominion Network. Next thing you know I'm brought in by of those damned Mechari constructs and injected. Now I'm here, my fur is soaking wet, I don't have my blasters or my tools. I have no idea where I am and I'm just about ready to...walk away from the rocket launcher being pointed at me, and the multiple blasters. So yes I'm Braxxus, not forcibly going to Nexus, reporting live from outside a crowded shuttle with guards and you have been watching The Archivist. Part of the Protostar Communications Network, a Protostar Corporation company. Delivering your life to Nexus, for profit! 


Someone get me out of this contact!

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