The Plague Logs

[Marburg]

Previously- "Living The Life of Riley: Green Hell" (Part II)
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"The Green Hell" (Part III)


Damien sat in his spot at the end of the bar, by the waitstation, inside Islay's other Bar, named "The Green Hell."

It's located on one of Islay's lower floors, not quite far enough away from the majority of the station's generator levels.

::: A quick word about life on Islay: Gaians prefer a lifestyle that flows as naturally as they have the technology to achive. The station's interior lights for example, are set on a rotating timer that mimics Gaia's dayspan, & coupled with a color of light that matches the twin suns of Edinburgh, it's loosely akin to standing under it's sky.

The walls themselves (at least on the lower levels) are a combination of rock, ice, & steel...but, it's common among many Gaians to gague time by noting the slowly moving position of the lights highest intensity on the coridor walls & celings, & deem any other method of timekeeping as both unnatural & unneccessary. :::

Back in the bar, the heat radiating from the station generators rise to the upper level heat shield, and thus, keeps the Green Hell in a unique climate all it's own.

The Bar holds bragging rites as the hottest, coldest AND lowest inhabitable place on the entire station.

By Judging the various plants densely scattered throughout the large & sprawling pub, and breathing it's thick & heady air, during the day at least, The bar sometimes feels like a humidly oppressive rainforest.

Hence, "The Green Hell"

As Marburg sips his room-temperature, high-alcohol stout, he uses his old militia training, & concentrates on a conversation held at a table 30 feet away. Doing his best to drown out most all sounds of music, chatter, & white noise...A young, drunken, bloody-knuckled Corsair "tourist" waxed eloquent to his table-mate, a seemingly third-hand-tall-tale of a clan of "living" cyborgs.

Burg is nothing, if not imperfect, & human...so the only information he was able to glean from just under the Hell's dull roar, was that they are somewhere northeast of Edinburgh, & are refered to as "Krylon's" or possably "Cylon's" ...It was hard to tell.

Damien turned up his glass, & swallowed it's contents, while almost taking a moment to almost entertain an almost insane concept.

"Livin' Robot my A*s!" Said Dimi, as he made his decision, & slammed his now emptied glass on the bartop.

"WHAT WAS THAT AGAIN!?" loudly replied the Bartender from Hell, over the the ruckus of the bar's many patrons.

"NUTHIN!...I'M JUST GONNA GO DO SOME FACT CHECKIN'!"

Marburg exited the bar, as the Bartender gave him a "thumbs up" to what he belived to be Marburg's intention to locate & spend the night with a "rather large woman" or two.

He shook his head, & chuckled to himself as he took a second to rub his one good ear, & returned to rinsing a sink full of glasses.

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