Scene: A dimly lit spaceship cockpit. A weary spacefarer in a flight suit addresses the camera as though it's CIG headquarters. Cue overly dramatic orchestral stings that keep getting interrupted by kazoo noises. "Right. Hello? CIG? Roberts Space Industries? The lot of you in the big leather chairs with the twelve-year development plans? I’ve stuck with you through thick and thicker. I’ve pledged my hard-earned credits for ships that exist only in glorious 4K renders and stretch-goal PowerPoint slides. I’ve defended you at parties when people said, 'Isn’t that the game that’s been in alpha since the dinosaurs were still paying off their Kickstarter pledges?' I’ve nodded sagely while explaining that 'feature complete' is merely a state of mind. But now… now, gentlemen… you are losing me. Not in the dramatic, Wagnerian sense, mind you. No swelling violins or slow-motion explosion of my Idris. Just a quiet, British, 'Oh dear, I appear to be disengaging docking clamps from this particular nonsense.' It’s not the bugs, per se. Bugs I can live with. I once spent three hours clipping through the floor of New Babbage trying to retrieve my multi-tool from inside a vending machine. That’s character-building. No, it’s the creeping suspicion that every patch note is secretly written by the Spanish Inquisition— 'Nobody expects the new flight model!' —and that the roadmap is less a plan and more a very long game of Mornington Crescent played with procedurally generated excuses. I came for the dream of the 'verse. I stayed for the masochistic thrill of waiting. But if this carries on much longer, I shall have no choice but to take my remaining aUEC, my slightly used Cutlass Black, and my rapidly evaporating suspension of disbelief… and sod off to play something that actually works. Now look. I’m not cross. I’m just disappointed. Like a man who’s ordered the Holy Grail and been handed a coconut with 'Quest Item' Sharpied on it. So do carry on if you must. Polish that 4.7 until it gleams like the forehead of a backer who just melted another $500. But do be aware: this particular spaceman is approaching critical levels of ennui. One more delayed squadron 42 trailer and I may be forced to… [dramatic pause] …go outside. Touch grass. Live a normal life. [He attempts to dramatically slam the comms button, but it just makes a sad 'boop' and ejects his helmet into low orbit.]" Bring out your dead… features! :smile: