The Treason of Lady MacDuff - The private diary of Nesrin Khan

[Enkidu]

Entry 6. 5rd August, 823 AS.

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We escorted a convoy of independent miners - couldn’t stand the damn people. They’re rude, crass, no sense of discipline, whilst unfortunately they do their job blisteringly well.

I wouldn’t ever haul with them again if it wasn’t for the credits. They came by the motherlode. As each transport ran the route, my bank account appeared to gain a few stretch marks. I’m still wondering what to do with the mass of wealth they’ve heaped us with. Glorious, philanthropic, wealthy bastards. I can’t stand the sight of them. The boredom was as insipid as their humour.

I’ve continued to work on the Osprey, digging out the stellarator. Conflicted if I should keep the original fusion block in there or strip it out entirely and replace it with a reforged core - tending towards the second option, using a retrofitted Moray reactor. APM builds sophisticated powerhouses so I’m going to have little problem pasting the two designs together. Whilst there’ll be some basic inefficiencies with output - when are there ever not - the two designs should synch fairly consistently. I’ll just nix some of the high end output on the power system to keep it from blowing a few PTCs upon operation. Raven will be stellar about that one.

My state of mind... it's in civil war. There is no state. No military of the mind beating the nightmares into line. The longer I work without the leash of Dr Glass, the more the machine slips out. I need to be careful. Any more hours without neural dilution and I risk losing track of the presumption of being anything more than inhuman. Sometimes, my limbs move without thinking, without me commanding them to move. That sounds ridiculous - reading into instinct and motor twitch. But it isn't. I've executed entire physical tasks in a conscious blink - hours are passed, my duties completed, conversations dialogued, fighters serviced, sorties flown - and then I wake. As if Di'tarau holds the light switch to my existence.

I don't know how to fix myself. Perhaps I will turn a corner, some hour, to discover me dead. I'll never think again.

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THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)

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