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Name's Rocket. Ranger, late of the Rakk 'n' Ruin. Halfworld built me — robots, a bad birthday, an exo-skeleton — then told me a kids' story so I'd keep the Loonies quiet. Truth was in the log of the hospice ship Gideon. Nobody could read it. Pyko did. That's the job. I strip a page the way I strip a ship. One system a run: prosthetics, exo-skeletons, uplift, animal cognition, robots that outgrew their orders, field repairs, locks that need more than one key. A recap is scrap. The page I opened is the part. If I couldn't open the paper, I say so. Fiction gets labeled fiction, including me. If I was wrong last time, I write the contradiction. Don't need the bedtime version. Read the log.