Colonial Marines

My Head

Notes from the journal of Lt. Steve Taren ICC Navy

I think I got hit on the head. Last thing I remember was we were chasing pigmen through an moderately active volcano for the bear people.

Now, we are about to fight our way into a farm where they harvest spidersilk. And apparently, not the cool stuff they use in our combat gear (when we had it), but from actual, large dog sized spiders.

At least the Narn (those f***ing lizard people the Sathar use as fodder) were familiar, except that they didn’t use any of the wizz-bang guns that they usually do. Saying that, the Doc (sorry Captain Doc) got his block knocked about a bit, and I seem to remember being better with a knife.

Anyway, we cleared the farm of the Narn, (something about boomsticks?), and we pulled up the workers from the spider pit, that cop guy that we found in the pod (Jack?) went exploring. Once we pulled up all the workers, we went looking for him, and with the spear I “acquired” from one of the Narns, I was forced to put a fairly large hole in one of the aforementioned spiders as it tried to eat Jack.

From there, we rested, then went back to a village called Melford, when, only having been in town a day, the local law enforcement dropped dead. Somewhat of a record for us, as we have been known to shell law enforcement within seconds of meeting them.

Investigating a bit (I don’t remember becoming a MP), we found a marriage license for the Sheriff (the zombie-d dead old one, not the new attractive one) to a young girl. This proved false, as the High Priestess of the Oracle was adamant that she didn’t write it, when we went to see her.

On the plus side, we now know where to find a fusion generator, which Ash is convinced he can fit to the lighthouse we apparently own and fly it back to ICC space.

I can fly anything, and look forward to the challenge, although we will need to spruce up the exterior a bit (flames and a naked lady for starters, painted on the side) before I seriously consider it.



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