Dear PackMaster Brand,
I have been, until recently, a proud member of the production group at the Never Depot on Sif. As part of the initial development team on the molecular assembler technology, I was proud to not only have my thesis project accepted, but given enough funding to see it become the mature technology that I always knew that it could be. To shepherd an idea from a bare two-sentence concept to a fully realized, operational technology in only a few years is something that only a few researchers have ever had the privilege. I thought that I was making a difference in the world, that I was part of a force for good.
That was until last week, when I was finally read in on what our full task here at the depot was. I understand the horrors that have been inflicted on us at Dave’s World, but Directive 595 cannot balance the scales. This is not justice, and it is not even revenge. This is a paper shield for a slaughter that cannot be put into words. And to hear, from the lips of not just you but Senior Packmaster Rollen, that we… that I have been specifically key to the execution of this directive is a knife in my heart. Everything I have worked towards is now bitter ash on my pelt, and there is nothing that can hope to clean this stain from me.
My great-grandfather once told me of a story once when he was sailing in the Eismeer, racing back to get back home to Tharr. He’d been making good time, and all that remained was passing The Twins before riding the trade winds back home. He was halfway down the channel when the winds turned, working against the current and setting the seas rising. He had to make a decision then and there. Push on down past The Twins, or recognize he wasn’t getting through and thread back against the current to a safe anchorage and wait for better conditions. It took a week before the conditions were safe again. I asked him why didn’t he push through. Wasn’t he late with his cargo and forfeited almost all of his profit? I never forgot his response.
“Klau, love. If I didn’t put the sails aback the mast, then me and mine would’ve been another sacrifice on The Twins. It’s a hard call to back off the course you’ve set. My crew gave me bloody hell for it until we got back to Tharr. But they realized too sometimes you have to be willing to go backwards in order to go forward.”
This letter is my formal resignation from all work contracts offered by the deWulf Corporate Navy, my position at Steyer un Sohn Technopolis, and the formal withdrawal of my contractual technological rights regarding the molecular assembly technology. As per the termination of my employment contract, I expect formal removal from the Never Depot within forty-eight hours from the receipt of this letter.