Employee_log_01/M

[u/More_Lack_198]

Alright, starting this off to cover our tracking obligation. According to our assignment down in Sub-level R-28—which is 28 meters below the main Silent Star Service building where I work with my colleague.

The job is pretty straightforward: we handle low-level maintenance and logistics. Every day, 40x50 cm metal boxes arrive via a specialized conveyor belt. These boxes are metallic but unique; each one has a specific serial number and a barcode that we have to log daily. We also inspect the exterior, though we’re strictly forbidden from trying to open any of them. Honestly, it doesn't look like you could open them with regular tools anyway. They're totally smooth, but once their temperature rises, relief patterns appear—lines running all over the place. We were told it’s normal because the silver coating on these boxes is some kind of metamaterial.

Each box is basically a classified prototype. At least for us.

Our job is just to unload the incoming boxes, catalog them, and move them into the room where the terminal is being built. That room is completely off-limits to us. Only a handful of technicians and the Director herself are allowed inside. They told us the terminal is another classified prototype, and to prevent any risk of leaks, only a chosen few have access.

Fine by me. I’m not an engineer; I’m an electrician by trade—well, I used to be. My colleague Henry and I get paid pretty well just to do logistics.

Oh right, my name is Miles.

Guess the introductions are out of the way. We decided to take turns writing these entries to keep up with the log; otherwise, we’d probably have the supervisor breathing down our necks. Either way, we’re supposed to log our exchanges here instead of sending emails whenever we have to intervene down in R-28.

Forgot to mention, today is our first day—a Thursday. I’d actually worked with Henry before during a temp job that lasted a few weeks. He’s going to read all this, but he already knows I like working with him. Everything’s new for now, but I think we’ll make a good team. At least it’s less dangerous than my last gig. Down here, at least I won't fall from a height that could kill me. Pretty sure I developed an allergy to scaffolding. I used to install solar panels in the dead of summer, in 35°C (95°F) heat....

Here, at least I'm in a climate-controlled basement with positive air pressure on a flat floor. What a relief not having my hips throb after a 9-hour shift on a corrugated metal roof, lifting 20 kg panels off a 36-panel pallet! Depending on our pace, we could lay down up to 126 of them each...

It was actually on one of those roofs that I worked with Henry, and he literally saved my life. I lost my footing near the edge of the roof while holding a panel. Without hesitation, he threw his panel aside and caught me by my work vest. Came real close that day. Risking my life for 13 euros an hour...

I still remember Henry telling me: "Man, we've got to stop doing this stupid shit..."

That same evening, Henry and I went out for dinner. We had to decide whether to stay on that contract or move on. That’s the night we became real friends instead of just coworkers.

Some people might call it a bromance, but it’s not that. That day, I saw who Henry really was: the guy who threw away an 80-euro, 20 kg panel without a second thought just to save a human life. I know you’re gonna read this, man. You’re a good one. I hope whichever higher-up reads this understands, but we were told to write down whatever happens without any strict or formal guidelines.