PERSONAL LOG ENTRY #2501

AUTHOR: Malcom D.

I decided to start with my journal again. Sometimes things

feel so damn wrong, beyond recovery, and keeping some

annotations on the daily frustrations seems to help.

Everything started roughly ten fortnights ago, when I

entered my current guild.

Back then I wanted some fresh air (difficult to find in

space, ha ha!), after my previous guild decided to change

the nature of their business. I'm specialized in certain

kind of spaceships, and those new Xhoreargrf-based models

are such a hyped, complex mess! I got lured by some

announcement on Rendezvous. Hell, I even dismissed

Captain's credits bump offer for it!

I could not know it was a trap. I should have stayed.

If only Ryba wasn't full of it when he claimed they've

invented a time machine! I would now spend those extra

credits to get back in time and tell myself not to take this

job!

Anyway, I started to work for these geniuses! And guess

what? Xhoreargrf components, again! Well, that stuff is

popular, what can I say? I should probably just get used to

it. Everyone does business on Nznmba, these days and it is

Xhoreargrf everywhere. It seems like nobody gives a rat's

ass about quality and mastership.

Here's the thing, though: even if I liked those components,

my current crew is full of noobs. They don't know (and feel

free to ignore) all the details that make the difference

between a proper control panel and the sandbox where little

Tom plays. Yet they call themselves experts. Kids with

fancy tools and lots of arrogance.

I spent at least two fortnights trying to fix the synthesiser

in order to have at least some decent artifacts.

Impossible. Everything is so cheap, and nobody seems to

know, or care. After all, they don't pay fuel out of their

pocket.

Eventually I decided I had enough of it, so it's time to

leave these kids. If anything Janet won't bother to move to

another sector: she hates this place too. And Tom is so

young he will hardly notice.

EOF