The Plague Logs

[Marburg]

Well, the clock is still tickin'...

I finished my drink, & signed out my boat on the Dockmaster's Log... & Just to be on the safe side, I ralphed up that last drink just before I boarded.

I woulda hated ta die just 'cause of a beer.

Where do I begin?...ahhh, I found me a whole bushel of them Nomads, & they were on me like stink on fish.

They were some tough hombres, but I'd like to take this opportunity ta toot my horn a wee bit:

After I dropped off some slimy bad-guys back at the prison, I had my boat fixed up on-the-fly, & went out fer more...& I found me some Bounty Hunters instead.
Now, these ain't the type of Hunters in Edinburgh that try to squat & do their business on Islay's yard...No, these fellers knocked me fer a loop.

Back home, I'm used to bein' swarmed by 10 ta 15 Hunters at a time, but, I tend to go through them like a hot knife through butter.

In Alaska, I found a hive 'o Hunters & started up a thirty-minute fight that I'm gonna call: "The Battle of the Shorts-Change Short Change" for the rest of my days.

I got myself surrounded, & realized real quick, that these were not West Bretonian Hunters...these fellers were my equals...& this realization freaked me out a little bit.

Seemed like every time I took one down, two would take it's place, & by the time I lost count of all my party guests, I was ready to tuck tail.

Then... I remembered that THIS was the reason I came here, & that I left my survival instinct back on that prison station. I kept my foot on the gas & my finger on the trigger, & kept in mind that as long as I'm surrounded, I can attack from any direction.

I whittled 'em down to about five when the gunboat showed up.

If it wasn't fer my tractor beam, y'all would be readin' somethin' else right now...& after I cleared the fighters, I snapped, & decided to 86 the gunboat.

I accually did it.

Me & my survival instinct are goin' back home ta Edin w/ a new respect fer each other.

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