M.I.M.E: Reasons

—You do seem quite capable, indeed. But why would a plastic artist want to join my exploring team is what I do not yet get.

—Uh, lets just say I was bored.

—Is that what you consider to be a valid reason, Rogers?

—Ah, very well, allow me to explain myself better: Year 3002, Planet Earth; you live in a time when society no longer considers individuality as a legal right, a society in which everyone is treated like a codebar-ed clone with all property belonging to the State. There is Zero crime, which equates Zero ACTION, and the state takes care of your every need, which equates “you’re a preppy little pig and we will cure you no matter what”. Hence your only alternative is to be expelled into the Sphere. An area of space controlled by three major Factions; Core-Borders B24_Ètoile, B36_Gamma and L03_Excel, a place rumored to allow you to be free, to own your own Possessions, to trade, explore, and (Jesus) even fight!
Now, faced with two choices, a) remaining a clone in a faceless society or b) being expelled to fend for yourself in the Sphere, you choose···?

—LeadBase-51, the closest base to the Core borders. You are led out of the transport shuttle and the bustle and variety of life hits you like a brick wall. The transport quickly leaves and you are left alone on the Promenade station. You are directed to go see Renson Hawkeye, resident greeter for new comers. Now Hawkeye explains you have been given a Marauder Scout MKI ship* and only 1,000 credits to make yourself a living. He goes on to offer to show you around and help you settle in to your new life, even if he was certain to kick your ass out of it from the very beginning. Afterwards, and setting aside the nerdy style shown by your tick glasses, Jonas Afward assigns you a node along with its corresponding chain-code, [N-008_1.05.3R], in order to make things easier. Hence you have to learn to live with the nickname of noob-loser, dodging flying plasma to survive during meal-time. After some orientation Missions with Afward you soon find it quite hard to make it to your feet. You start learning to use the many various and different stores, and daydream pondering over what to save up for to fit to your new ship. That if you ever get to save enough for a new ship besides a cargo. ···

—And that’s how you end up being the most respected commander of all times.

—···Over here please. A network of Jump Gates link the Systems together. Your only limitation is the fuel in your tanks; every 15 minutes a ticker is run creating more fuel. This equates to 500 units of fuel per day or 3500 a week. There are currently 50 Systems connected to the Gate network with over 300 locations···

—Commander?

—Yes?

—You really are a commendable one.

—And you really know what you want for yourself, don’t you Rogers?

—Or maybe I just have a mouth too big myself.

—Clear thoughts sounds better, I’d say··· I’m not that respected, though, mind you.

—Perhaps you are, but haven’t noticed yet.

—Who would deal any respect towards Charlson’s child?

—Charlson’s···? Well that’s not everything you are, I hope.

—Hm···Ah, when did this conversation turned about to my personal life anyway?

—Why is it you tend to look down to the floor?

—Huh?

—There’s no need to talk to your feet, they know the way already. Or are you blushing and you don’t want others to notice?

—I never blush. And I would certainly thank you very much soldier if you kept your big mouth shut and away from me and my self-denying hysteria. This way, please.

—Clear thoughts sounds better, I thought you’d say.

*a Marauder Scout in 3002 is what you could call a small and cheap space ship with weak shield and a small capacity. It’s pretty much a small cradle with turbines and lotsa little shining buttons spread all around and stuck so close together that you could open the shuttle, fire missiles and blow it in pieces all at once in a single attempt to scratch an itching nose.