No regrets.

[Narcotic]

Neural Net Log - Clyde Johnson

Personal Entry:

Saturday, the 7. March 822

"You are in for a suprise." That's all what he told me. Last time I heard "suprise" in that context, was when we accidentally built that temporary station in the middle of a trade lane in New York. Those 'build-it-yourself-kits" you get thrown at as free extra bonus everywhere. "Here's your coffee, have a station for free. Say what?" Anyways, they were cheap as your sister back then, and we wanted to put a thorn into LPI's side.

Since I had no experience with building anything other but joints, I've put the responsibility into one of my most capable Rookies, yes coitus me, of course he screwed it up. So we were just about to leave New York with 'our house' when out of a sudden a station 'unfolded' in front of my face. And to my relief it floated right in the middle of a trade lane to 'Hattan. As if someone with OCD had put it there. I was really mad. Like, it wasn't drawing any attention at all. "Hey, I'm just a station in your way, don't mind my ADHD, but could you kindly take an alternative route while you're being thrown at me with your 2000 meters per second?"

You know that feeling, when you're lane-sitting for hours, and not a single 'tard passes by. And now, all my accumulated deficit of traders of four years just seemed to pay back. One transport after the other was crashing into the newborn station. While it was all like "I life here now.", transport leftovers and cargo were snowing on us. Christmas came early this year I thought. But the luck didn't last very long. As we were just about to harvest our fruits, an Overlord-class Dreadnought did facepalm "our house". Poof. Can't deny that I like such penetrating explosions. But as wonderful as it was, I was suprised to see the unharmed Dread' crawl out of the newly formed scrapyard. "Destroyer of humble dreams", I named him spontaneously. Well crap. Of course my Rookies were all gone in a blink (as you taught them, fool!). Making use of the moment of suprise, I effectively took to my heels, too. It was a good day.

Guess I drifted off a bit. Uhm, speaking of suprise. Yes, changes and things. Rank structures, boring, station relocations, dull, shipline reconfigurations, bland. I swear, that's houndshit, why am I even doing those stupid logs? Could aswell just get myself wasted and let my dog do it. Wait, now I remember, there was that thing. I'm no more the puppetmaster behind the Rogues, pulling the strings. Enough of those monthly warlord announcements. Serious times are over. I thought. I'm a powerhungry man, and I can't stand to follow orders of some arrogant snob, who's trying to compensate his lack in size. Those are the worst, I know best. Because I'm one. And I love it. And people loved me for being the idiot, who's doing the paperwork. Otherwise I wouldn't have lived that long. Or maybe I'm just lucky.

I'm not well-educated, nor am I an ex-militarist. But I'm good at surviving, and can read & write. Alone that qualified me to lead the Rogues in the first place. And of course luck. Or bad luck - matter of point of view. Whatsoever, now that stuff has changed (and it's not just my underwear), I was asked to present one of "The Five Rogues" or whatever they call it. Maybe a system to have it easier for Rookies to remember the number of leading figures. I'm worried about those who had lost fingers though. And their second hand is occupied with counting their brain cells already. Well, it's not THAT bad. It's actually worse. I mean, I had that one incident, where a Rookie tried to safe his wingmate from a battleship missile, by ramming him away from it. Well. He got both of them killed in the attempt. He had a good heart. But unfortunately, natural selection gives a fine pile of poop about brotherly love. What I wanted to say was, that I've accepted the offer, as I couldn't let my people down. They need a mother taking care for them dumb, adorable fools. And of course to "Always blame the mother." ...