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