[color=f7941d][center][h2]Joe Gore: Mechanic Extraordinaire[/h2][/center][/color]


 "God dammit Joe, you did it again." The man's voice echoed briefly across the holding cell. Not only had the rest of his, uh, potential allies suffered a case of hole through the skull, but he had found himself in a very familiar situation. Once again, some giant faceless conglomerate had managed to involve poor Joe in a mess that once again seemed inescapable. Smart bastards didn't even let him keep the toolbox. He could've gotten out in less than a jiffy if they hadn't taken the damn thing. Worst part, all of his gear was stored in a cargo unit no more than fifteen seconds away, probably in the very same corridor his impromptu cell was in. Pure torture.

 Now, Joe had never seen a rig quite like this before, but by the looks of it, it had great similarities with the significally weaker FT-68 models. As for the guys that ran it? Well. They didn't like humans, judging from his dead co-slaves. And, being far enough from the command deck, he had no clue what to-

 Combat sounds. Someone had broken into the cargo bay. Jack-fucking-pot. Without a second thought, not even to think about how obscenely lucky he got, Joe began to vigorously bang at the heavy steel door, and, sliding the small viewing slot open, screamed at the top of his lungs.

 [b]"Over here! Over here! The bastards have me locked up! Get me out goddamit!"[/b]