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The Plague Logs - Marburg - 06-18-2007
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Marburg's Bio: http://discoverygc.com/forums/index.php?sh...ic=5430&hl=
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Sheesh, those jitters really like to overstay their welcome.
I'm still in my X-Shuttle, & I'm not sure how to make this point clear, so i'm just gonna bull my way through the china shop here: The pilot's seat is oddly comfortable to me...creepy too, at the same time, so, now i'm a little creeped out that i'm creeped out by being comfortable.
Y'all got that? (I hope so, 'cause it'll be a real whippin' to think up a better way to say it.)
I'm makin' a modest sum of coin, but everytime I see someone hunker onto my radar, I get all jumpy like a deep-down trauma hound.
Like today: you got some of the criminal element just sittin' in orbit atop of Denver, just as bold as you please, waitin' like spiders on a web.
Now, My belly ain't yella...far from it...but I know better than to waltz into a gunfight wearin' a knife & a smile. The stuff I wrap my leftovers in would make me a better hull, & if I were ta re-route all my boat's power to my guns...I still probably couldn't even get a close shave out of 'em. (assuming I'd be apt to waste all that time trying to shave with a gun.)
Anyway, fer instance, I was extorted for 200K from someone named "Cathartic"
He caught me with my pan...er, my shields down, & made easy work of me. So now I'm keeping a tally of what he's gonna end up owing me, 'cause, even though it really gets my Irish up, untill i'm ready to toe the line...I'm gonna go ahead & pay 'em for a short spell. He's got some honor, I'll give him that, but, so far, any real respect from me is gonna cost 'em my 200K first.
Hey, ya gotta learn ta pick yer battles.
The Plague Logs - Marburg - 06-18-2007
Ok, crow-eatin' time...I should file this bit 'o wisdom under "Practice what you Preach" ...ummm...I was humbled abit ago by gettin' fireballed by a Xeno named Milia-Something...
I was feelin' all ornary by the end of my day 'cause by paying Cathartic his 'Bubba Money,' that soon-to-be Lagwagon of his put me behind by 4 runs.
Mila & another fella were askin' folks for "donations" & I just started thinkin' like a thunderhead.
I already docked & was pretty much safe for the time being, but...they...just kept...punching my buttons so bad through my neural net. So then, I sorta gone red & went to go claim me a bigger piece of sky.
I sailed up nose-to-nose w/ Milia & said, as clear as a Gaian spring, that they could just kiss my ever-lovin'... (for lack of a better term) ring.
Well, Milia must've been really chompin' at the bit, cause I was wounded bad just seconds after she got the permission to fire.
I gotta find the bigger guns...Being a mark doesn't sit well with me.
(by the way...I seem to remember being told a few stories from time to time, that somewhere on Earth, over a thousand years ago, a Lagwagon was relegated to the backside of a wagon-train, so that if anyone died during the passage west, their wagon & their corpse could lag further behind the others so that they wouldn't have to smell all the rot....ya hearin' me Cathartic?)
The Plague Logs - Marburg - 06-23-2007
Today I flew from Kusari, southeast through Reinland, & into the outer eastern rim & back, but still...nothin' I saw rang any of my bells on who the hell I am. I decided a number of days back, that I'll go by the name 'Marburg' cause that's the callsign I saw painted on that gimpy starflyer I found when all this started.
As I was tranfering my personal effects from my Heavy Miner to my brand-spankin' new viper... I found a recording labeled '#2' I plugged it in, & this time, it wasn't that generic robot voice, but mine...all it said was: "Quit complaining & lick your wounds... Gaia will not bleed...."
Cryptic as hell, & that sure as snuff WAS my voice, but do I really sound like that?? & what the hell am I doin' playin' games like this with myself?
I went & vaporized this recording just like the last one I got.
It is kinda strange that Gaia would pop into my head twice in as many days. It's not in my navmap, but I know from lookin' at an atlas that Gaia is in Edinburgh, & Edinburgh is just a hop, skip, & a jump from the west edge of Sirius
Well, I got me a proper fighter now, so I 'spose it's time to man-up & fly to the home where my nightmares roam.
The Plague Logs - Marburg - 06-24-2007
Ok, so...late last night I made my way to Edinburgh & docked with Shetland. I figured, "What the Hell." I made me a fair amount of credits on my Deshima milk-run & it's time for a little D&R (Drink & Recreation) for a couple of days.
Oi...Why, Oh Why did I pick THIS...this...ah, ... >:/ ...ROW BOAT!! THAT'S THE WORD! It's just a smeggin' Row Boat! ...Sure, they call it a "Luxury Liner" but, come on, seriously, they could change the name to the 'Delusion of Grandeur' or something.
Anyway, I mosied into the bar & well, the atmosphere was bright, cheery, attentive, & utterly lacking in any real personality. (I find bright & cheery REALLY irritating.)
I suppose what the bar lacks in personality it makes up for by being populated BY personalities.
I'm pretty sure the inebreated lightweight that was sitting a few stools down from me is that big-time-anchor-guy from the news.
Here's a REAL newsflash for 'ya Anchordude: Never, EVER mix Sidewinder Fang w/ Liberty Ale...It makes you sloppy... But hey, I'm not the one who has to schlep propaganda for a living, so, if you wanna run the risk of fallin' & crackin' your head open on your way back to your room, then, hey, by all means, go knock yourself out buddy.
I do have to admit though: they have a drink that I have never heard of: 'McEwan's' ...& you know what?...
...That had to be the BEST thing I have ever tasted. I asked the waitress to bring me another one in the bottle, & the wierdest thing happened...I recognized the label...kind of like when you have a really cool dream, wake up, & by the time your up & around, you forget what the dream was about... only rememberin' that it was 'cool.'
But that wasn't the weird thing though, that part was only 'strange.' The weird thing was the waitress: I lost track of time while staring at the label, & I didn't realize it was time to tab-out. The waitress shook me back to full attention by saying: ..."I said, you aren't going to find the shortcut to Hell staring into a beer label."
I like this girl. She hates this place too...I can just tell. ...We should get together & go bowling.
"I've already found it," I told her, "it went & led me here."
"Seriously! I really do hate this place," I continued, "Shetland is not really Hell though, my whole experience on this tub so far, is better described by changing the "e" to an "i" in it's name."
She laughed a little (very little)
Then she stoped all abrubt & got serious...
"You told me to tell you this when I saw you again: The shortcut to Hell is not a path you, yourself are allowed to take; it's Gaia's Law, but, you CAN find a trail to Islay, & follow that."
She used my card to tab me out, gave me a wink & disapeared to wherever waitresses disapear to in a bar.
before I headed off to my cabin, I noticed the waitress wrote a number on a napkin...not HER number (damnit!):angry:but just A number:
"66"
66 what? what? ...whatever...even the way she writes her numbers is pretty. I have to admit that I must have really good taste in women to go & pick HER to shuttle myself a message.
The Plague Logs - Marburg - 06-24-2007
I found a Gaian base with cheap beer just a stone's throw away from the Sh*tland so, this must be the place i'm looking for.
"Islay" ...hmm...a crappy name for this kind of hole. It's really just a hollow rock w/ a few atmospheric pumps, but, I like it well enough to finish my D&R weekend here.
I tried to pay the Dockmaster for letting me the space to rope up my ship, but...get this: He said that I already paid in advance & maybe I should see the station's Doc about runnin' me a memory test or two.
OK, maybe up to now I ain't made it clear that in the grand scheme 'o things, I'm close to makin' deposits in my britches everytime I think about wakin' up in some storeroom as an amnesiatic nobody.
Before I knew it, I slammed the Dockmaster to the wall by his throat.
"WHAT OF IT!!" I snarled at him. "Either you TELL Me ALL you know of my 'Forgetfullness' or I'll make you the kind of ugly you just don't recover from!"
In what must've been a supreme effort to keep his panic in cheque, he essentially said in short, croakin' gasps that he just thought that if I forgot that I already paid my docking fee, a trip to the Doc's couldn't hurt. & that if somethin's gonna go wrong w/ a fella's memory, it's all sorts of better knowin' than NOT knowin'
Now I just feel bad...here I am thinking I'm the center of the universe & everybody's in on the conspiracy but me.
I let him go & he slumps straight to the floor.
"Hell Sir, I'm chock full 'o remorseful regrettings fer wantin' to kill you just now." I say in my most apologetic tone. "but I thought you were makin' small of me."
After a few minutes of making nice, 10,000 credits is what convinced him to keep my temper out of his docklog. (it's wise ta never foul up the well you drink from)
The Plague Logs - Marburg - 06-24-2007
This is just a reminder for myself:
Next time you run into that yahoo "Mysis" You should explain in all sorts of clear terms that trying to blast me down unanounced is just plain rude.
I just wont have it. If Mysis shoots me in the back again, I aim to teach 'em a bit on the concept of manners.
The Plague Logs - Marburg - 06-24-2007
I woke up this mornin' to the sound of navy pilot coccoons bouncing off the shield outside of my cabin window.
They must've figured that if they could attack the station early, they could be back to wherever they came from by noon.
Now, I'm 'mostly' partial to the whole "live & let live" ethic, & I don't hate the Bret' Navy, but, staring out my window looking at all the debris...well, I figure that they got what they deserve for comin' over so early w/o callin' first.
I'm gonna slip on my boots & get some coffee down in the Green Hell. it'll give me a chance ta wake up & people-watch.
(so, far...these Gaian's seem like decent enough folk, but they also seem a wee bit nutty around the brain-stem...so, 'people-watch' is just my nice way of saying that as long as my eyes are open, It'd be best to keep at least one of 'em on all of them.)
The Plague Logs - Marburg - 06-24-2007
I had a fair amount of talk w/ some people down in the Green Hell. (Islay's "other" bar...but i'll speak a piece on that large topic some other time.)
What I wanted to mention was: yesterday, before I pulled into the Sh*tland, I was over to the right in Liberty with good intentions in my mind & diplomacy in my heart. I was aimin' to find the LSF & explain to 'em that I no longer appreciate their signal gettin' all warm & cozy w/ my transponder. It gives folks the wrong impression of me, & I figured I could just sache on over to their office, & put 'em on notice that my "2 weeks" began 2 weeks ago.
Well, now, I'll be the 1st admit that I know I ain't the sharpest knife in the cookie jar, but, as far as I can tell, the LSF don't have a complaints department.
One thing I can't abide is "The runaround" & when I shoot for somthin' It's usually 'cause I'm wantin' for that paticular somthin' & I'd sooner burn paperwork than sign it.
I found no paperwork to burn though...
So, I went to all the Liberty Companies 1 by 1 & made all manner of hefty promises offering my chaingun skills. (with all intents of leavin' 'em high & dry...after all, if you can't cross a bridge, burn THAT & look for another way 'cross.)
Still, I got Synth Foods to flake on today, & maybe then the LSF will get the hint.
The Plague Logs - Marburg - 06-24-2007
One more thing before I head for Los Angeles...I mention this by way of a confessional:
During my bait-&-switch tactics with the Libertarian companies, I was havin' some issues locating a Cryer base to do my wheelin's & dealin's...I finally got wind of a little hole-in-the-wall of theirs all the way over in Sigma 17, & I figured as far as it is, I gotta do what I gotta do.
When I got to their station, I was stonewalled in my every attempt to lessen the high esteem that company holds me in.
after a while, I got fed up w/ all their math & nerd-speak, & headed out real frustrated.
I disembarked smack dab in the the middle of a fight 'tween some Pharm nuggets & some outcasts.
I was in a foul mood for wasting so much time inside on those pharmphreaks, so I slammed on the gas to hurry up outta the crossfire.
When my radar was all but empty, that little voice of mine that I know better than to listen to was telling me that if I turned on the Cryer babies like a dog, I could make 'em mad enough to 86 me from their docket, & get me back some lost time.
This is where the confession rolls in: I hammered back in range & found the Outcasts gone, but, 3 pharm nuggets were next to returning to their patrol...I shot 2 down in my first pass, & the 3rd only made it past me 'cause my aim ain't perfect. ...I got him real shortly thereafter.
I sat around for a minute tryin' to think if I should maybe come up with a better way to make my point, & all of the sudden, I had 10 to 15 some odd hawks bearin' down on me with their guns talkin' to my ship at full volume, & at that point, I sorta gone red. a few minutes later, there was one guy left, & he was busy whisking himself back home. I sent a number of bullets to his backside hopin' that I made my point all proper... & you know, I may be an ass, but, It WAS an efficient way ta grease the beaurocrats.
Their brain-yarn must be abit loopy like mine though, 'cause after all that bullyin' & bloodletting, they are still willing to work w/ me....it's not fair honestly, I acted like a real little man w/ some bigger guns, & if it were me doin' to me what I did to them poor civ pilots, i'd likley look to rippin' my own throat out w/ my teeth if I were able enough.
For what it's worth, I did me some wrong to those poor nuggets, & I apologize to their familys for makin' all that extra space in their homes.
The Plague Logs - Marburg - 06-25-2007
I had a long day...I threw my duster over a chair as I entered my rented room back on Islay, & kicked back while I juiced up the media wall. (no matter where your travels take you in Sirius, they broadcast the same garbage EVERYWHERE!) ...needless to say, there's nothin' on, & so I open my footlocker & start to rumage for a book.
even though I'm sore all over & feel like a long-toothed rented mule from the mountians, I got alot done today:
I went & bumped into a shady padre on Ames & shelled out next to a million credits for 'em, when he swore up & down that he could hack the LSF firewall. The whole day is such a blur to me now, that I don't even remember what company he worked for, but, not long before I started to dock-out & log sky time, my neural net let me know that the LSF mailed me my walkin' papers.
I was so happy that I was "THIS CLOSE" (holdin' my thumb & index real near each other) to dancin' a jig.
Well...Now that I dug me out somethin' to read, I'll check in w/ y'all tomorrow.