Random musings of Senior Space Engineer David Baller, as interviewed by Anatoli Pulov - Trainee Engineer 1st Class

DAVID: "Life as a Space Engineer isn't always the easiest life imaginable. Especially if you are being forced to act the as the straight man to your colleague's insane antics. You see, after a certain point you just find it harder and harder to be surprised at anything. Colleagues painting your vessel pink in the middle of the night, for example. Or some arsehole having the wonderful idea to replace the O2 in your suit with - of all things - laughing gas. I can assure you, rookie - I wasn't laughing - well, not voluntarily anymore, mind you - when I ended up stuck inside a moon base due to a lack of oxygen in my suit... If I remember correctly, I ended up being stuck there for twenty freaking days before HQ finally realised it would be a good idea to check why their star S.S.E hadn t returned yet, all the while my douchebag colleagues were laughing their arse off. I got pretty damn lucky as well... the base in question only had enough O2 in reserve to last 21 days."

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* As I must have had an utterly flabbergasted expression, he hastened to add the following...*END OF AUTHOR'S NOTE*

DAVID: "Obviously they got canned and punished... There's ACTUALLY funny stuff like temporarily reversing the controls of someone's craft, so that left becomes right for a minute et cetera et cetera, and then there's the really dangerous stuff like the particular stunt they pulled on me. Which is obviously not tolerated."

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* The moral I can take from this - if there is any knowledge to be gleaned from this to begin with, which I very much doubt - is to never, ever leave your craft unattended. Or your suit. Or anything even remotely connected to you... Come to think of it, I'm fairly certain that the stunt he had just declared safe and funny was pretty horrifying on its own, but eh... maybe being a full-blooded psychopath is something of an unwritten requirement for this job. *END OF AUTHOR'S NOTE*

DAVID: "So, anyway - to bring this conversation back on topic... what were we talking about again? Oh, right. Douchebag colleagues and the general craziness of our chosen profession. What do you want to hear, newbie? Tales of heroism, glorious enough to get your blood boiling? Bits of wisdom, imparted upon me through my years of experience? Hilarious anecdotes, guaranteed to remove your need for a jetpack because... get this... your sides will already be in orbit?! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!"

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* Note to self - need to build up my resistance to bad puns and jokes. That joke was so thoroughly bad I flinched. Interviewee did not notice it, thankfully - but only because he was busy destroying my eardrums with his loud laughter. For the record - at the time this interview will be published, my ears will have been ringing for three days straight already... *END OF AUTHOR'S NOTE*

INTERVIEWER: "Well, let's start with something lighthearted then. Any memorable projects you worked on?"

DAVID: "Hmmmm... Let's see. There is, of course, the construction of the base we're currently sitting in. Really standard and boring stuff. You know...The usual - workspace accidents every other hour, safety violations up the wazoo, practical jokes impacting the quality of our work... An average day in our profession, really - nothing to note. Though I do feel bad for that one poor sod who ended up being booted straight onto the surface of the nearest star when someone decided it'd be funny to overcharge his upward thrusters... what was his name again? Dindoo Nuffin or something? Eh, whatever."

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* Well, looks like my theory about a psychopathic streak being a neccessary trait for this career was right. I think I might have to reconsider my career choice... *END OF AUTHOR'S NOTE*

DAVID: "Anyway, those projects are pretty standard. Now the ones like the Spacefaring Toilet? Good times!"

INTERVIEWER: "A... Spacefaring Toilet? Did I just hear you say that correctly?"

DAVID: "Yep! Our boldest undertaking yet. We had planned to turn a portable toilet into a fully functional spacecraft. Came with a specially modified suit as well. The idea being - since the pilot's seat is also the toilet seat - that any bodily waste would just automatically be fed into the thrusters and incinerated, immediately disposing of it without requiring any space being wasted on an actual bathroom. Efficient, no?"

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* I only just now realised while editing this piece that I - for whatever unholy reason - thought it made sense when I first heard it. Needless to say, I'm horrified right now... I appear to be adapting to this place's insanity, which is a rather frightening prospect... *END OF AUTHOR'S NOTE*

INTERVIEWER: "Dare I ask why it didn't - no pun intended - take off?"

DAVID: "I'm glad you asked, rook! Aside from the fact that the curmudgeons over at the Safety & Sanity Council didn't think it was a good idea - something about not being taken seriously - we also tried to automate the actual cleaning process. I mean... we wouldn't be Engineers if we didn't try to make it even easier and more automated than it already was, now would we?"

INTERVIEWER: "Fair enough I suppose. But how does trying to automate the cleaning process prevent it from being fully functional and safe?"

DAVID: "Well, the automated cleaning was flawed to say the least. One of those ideas that would be wonderful on paper but would probably be better off being worshipped by the Church Of Clang. All I will say about it - for now, anyway - is that it caused an influx of burn victims in the nearby medical ship, all suffering from burns in the same... let's say rather... awkward... spots."

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* I honestly do not know how to react to this. All I can say is that all of my sympathies are with the poor sods on said Council... Can't imagine having to deal with this much insanity every day. Just can't be healthy... Not to mention this talk of a Church? I can't imagine it being much more than a cult of crazies but eh... As sad as it makes me to admit it, it's not even the craziest thing I've learned about this job so far... *END OF AUTHOR'S NOTE*

INTERVIEWER: "Putting that aside for the moment... You mentioned something about a Church Of Clang?"

DAVID: "Indeed. Here on Triton we all - or at least, the sensible Engineers among us - are taught about the glory of our Lord and Saviour Clang. We believe that He is that which allows us to do the stuff you'd usually only see in Sci-Fi movies. Stuff like one man being able to carry 1.5 tonnes of scrap without it being visible on his person or affecting him, powering our machines through mere proximity to a source of power and all that juicy stuff."

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* If that's true, then it does explain why this place just laughs at such puny things like the laws of physics and nature... Also, did he just say all sensible Engineers? If these guys are ACTUALLY considered the more sane ones... Oh dear. *END OF AUTHOR'S NOTE*

INTERVIEWER: "I'm sensing a catch to this story?"

DAVID: "Indeed. Our Lord and Saviour Clang is... fickle and temperamental, to say the least. You've probably seen those tumbleweeds consisting of unpowered pistons outside? That is also the work of Clang. He taketh, he giveth... Your construction can be as safe, secure and stable on paper all you want, but if the Lord Clang has one of his usual hissy fits you might spontaneously find a completely new set of laws of physics applying to it. If you're lucky, that is."

INTERVIEWER: "And if you're unlucky?"

DAVID: "Well, results vary - obviously - but you could be blown skyhigh... Or accidentally destroy the base... Or create tumbleweeds consisting of pistons... Or - and this is a very crazy one - somehow accidentally nuke the entirety of the planet in a chained reaction triggered by a piston hitting a nuclear reactor, whose explosion in turn hits an Engineer sending said Engineer flying out of the airlock and into a nearby asteroid with enough force to knock it off course and into the base... Where it hits a very, VERY volatile cluster of reactors..."

INTERVIEWER: "That... sounds like an oddly specific example to be giving. Did it happen to good friend of yours?"

DAVID: "I'll do you one even better... Do you recall the bit about the Engineer being blasted out of the airlock? Yep. That Engineer was me... Good times."

INTERVIEWER: "... Oooooooookayyyyyyy. Very informative. Will be looking forward to the day something interesting and fun like that happens to me."

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* I was being sarcastic at that time, obviously. Or at least, I sure hope so... I have no way to check whether or not my own sanity was eroding at that moment, due to being in proximity to this man... The rest of this interview has been skipped due to the interviewee pulling out a welder out of nowhere, screaming something about praising Clang and then proceeding to mumble gibberish as he started to weld together something that was - probably? - supposed to look like the symbol of Clang's order. Needless to say, I bolted out of there and got as far away from the planet as my jump-drive would allow... *END OF AUTHOR'S NOTE*

Anatoli's afterword

Let this manifest detailing my experiences be a warning to all who would travel to Triton.

I went to Triton as a trainee in the hopes of becoming a well respected Engineer, only to come back as a changed man with Eldritch knowledge clearly not intended for the human mind. I now share this story with you all, in hope of preventing any more people from being enraptured by the cult of His Lord And Saviour, Clang.

I unfortunately didn't quite manage to escape Clang's influence myself... I find myself being able to effortlessly produce tools out of thin air, and oftentimes wake up on top of welded metal screaming something about tumbleweed pistons. I have even once gone to sleep, only to find myself waking up on my toilet, dressed in my Spacesuit and a welder in hand! It is - quite frankly - horrifying!

Now if you all would excuse me, I'm off to draw some more schematics... I have an altar to create - Clang knows why, because I do not - and piston tumbleweeds to tend to!

- Anatoli, (Un)Willing Follower of The Church of Clang