Reeb Marina terminal entries are a series of entries found on two terminals in the Reeb Marina in Fallout 4. Only Malcolm's terminal is locked with a novice password.
Eugene's terminal[]
Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink
LOGIN: Eugene
11/2/2077[]
1st day in the marina. Ten days since the bombs fell, and the world has gone mad. Malcolm and I just might be able to pull this off. The boats are still in good condition. If we can get one of them up and running, we can escape the chaos of this war. I'm glad Malcolm is here. Family have to stick together... even if he is an annoying slob that slurps his coffee.
11/22/2077[]
20th day at the Reeb. If that blasted fool thinks he can tell me what's what, he's got another thing coming. He needs me, and that means what I say goes: We are escaping SOUTH. That jackass is never going to fix the other boat without my expertise and parts. And for what? To head North, of all places. If he wasn't my own flesh and blood, I'd clobber his coffee-slurping, contrarian face with a wrench. I think he's doing it on purpose.
12/12/2077[]
He's slurped his coffee for the last time, he must die. Its the only logical choice, and really he has no one to blame but himself. All I need are the parts from his boat, and I can escape this irradiated hell. I've been looking into the robot safety protocols, and I think I'll have a little birthday surprise for him.
Malcolm's terminal[]
Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink
LOGIN: Malcolm
11/2/2077[]
We just got to the marina today, it's hell outside. We should be able to fix one of these damn boats, and sail ourselves out of here. My uptight brother drives me nuts sometimes, but family sticks together, through thick and thin. We've got a lot of work to do, I need a cup of coffee.
11/27/2077[]
Day 25. After I told that pinhead off, he stopped talking to me. We must go NORTH. That chicken shit has started leaving little notes everywhere instead. Two can play at that game.
12/17/2077[]
Day 45. Well, it's our birthday tomorrow. Eugene wants to bury the hatchet, and I just might bury it in his back. I know a little trick with the robot security protocols. It'll make a nice birthday gift for that bastard... he'll never see it coming.