Star Wars: Edge of the Empire

A Letter
Chapter 14

Qurzer

Dear Queen,

I hope the supplies my comrades and I have sent are seeing our world well. For sure it has claimed you dominance over the other septs. They will be honoured by your leadership, if you so wish it. I often think of you and the sisters. It has distracted me from the missions the Rainbow Dash takes on. I suppose it’s a feeling of numbness. Just the other day, I could only save one of my teammates from drowning. I have instructed them to attend swimming lessons, but it was my own weakness that failed such a simple rescue.

I will not stop until I find Hinjur! I will acquire new skills to tract him down. I swear to you, my Queen! I have already started with programming a helper droid. Or as the foreigners call them: a pet. It too was oppressed and brainwashed on its home world. Now it will aid us. Qurzer is proud of PK-4 “UshUsh!” for piloting in the last mission along side Garbol.

Good UshUsh.

As always, your loyal subject. Qurzer.

Ps. Please look out for Inquisitors. They seem to be greatly powerful and mean.

View
Episode XIII:
santos' journal
View
Episode XII: So I met an Inquisitor. He seems lovely.
santos' journal

After a lovely few weeks in a Rebel infirmary on Arda II, GARBOL was ultimately the one who actually patched up my leg. It’s no longer all puffy and split open like a sausage left too long on the heat element. Nebula didn’t take long to take advantage of my recovery as he sent me off to cover someone’s planetary patrol, as payment for the use of his medical facilities, and (inept) professionals. Truthfully, I didn’t mind that much, since the rest of the crew were making plans to destroy some fancy planet killer or something. I wasn’t really paying attention after Nebula said we’d be paid.

While on patrol I discovered a discus, flashing with red and blue lights. I couldn’t figure out what exactly it was, but it certainly didn’t match the tech used by the rebels, so naturally I threw it into my sandspeeder and continued the tour.

My last stop on the patrol ended up being pretty exciting. I encountered a probe droid, the model of which was known to be used by the empire. I decided the best course of action was to destroy the thing, so I threw the discus at it. I missed completely, a fact I’m blaming on the sandstorm if anyone asks, but it loosened a rock that stuck the droid, which then blew up. I informed the base, and then promptly freaked out at the sight of an Imperial Star Destroyer breaching the atmosphere.

I immediately raced back to the base, which had sounded the alarm for evacuation. As I headed into a narrow chasm I found myself chased by a number of tie fighters. It was a blast out maneuvering the ties, watching them get damaged and blow up one by one. I made my way through the chasm just as Zet, GARBOL and Callia blew a few charges causing the chasm to cave in, blocking off one point of access to the base. I warned them of in coming AT-AT walkers as I continued to the base.

As I reached the base I could see it swarming with sandtroopers, and small skirmishes were taking place throughout. I jumped out of my sandspeeder, onto the roof of the base, and kinda rolled down into the open-air hanger. My plan was to get to the Rainbow Dash and prepare for an immediate evac once the party was back together. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice a Lambda shuttle approach. Standing on the loading ramp of the Dash, I felt a disturbing presence. Turning around I found my self staring into the mask of an Inquisitor. The Inquisitor was clearly there for Callia, but he was surely delighted to find me there too. After letting my friends know what was going on, and letting them know how much they meant to me if things went south, our lightsabers went up, and the bastard threw a metal container at me! Being the childish hero I am, I returned the sentiment by using the force to tug at his cape (never wear capes!), causing him to stumble back before we met in melee.

Pro Tip: Never get into melee combat wit an Inquisitor. He immediately struck a critical blow on me, and likely would have made short work of me if Callia hadn’t showed up when she did. Even with the two of us he held his own, and it took Zet blowing up his ally, and GARBOL’s drive by stims to break free of him. We all quickly raced towards the Dash and were able to escape just in time to see the entire base blow up. Courtesy of Rakine, no doubt. At least we can all rest peacefully, know that the Inquisitor surely couldn’t survive the blast.

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Episode XII: I'm no soldier
zet's journal

Every time we have to deal directly with the Rebels, things get stupid fast.

Randall et al were kind enough to let Santos rest up in the medical bay in their base on Arda, like for several weeks, even though GARBOL was ultimately the one to finish patching him up. They also put Qurzer in touch with their queen back on Selonia. So it was easy for us to reunite with Callia, who suddenly walked in with Zrask – the Bothan we let out of the bacta tank back on Tatooine. Now I have to wonder if Trex was actually going to sell him and Rakine into slavery or if that was some kind of weird cover story while he transported some Rebels.

Anywayyyy… it turns out Callia had been helping the Rebels investigate an Imperial base on Onderon, where they’re working on the prototype for some kind of superweapon death ray that can blow up planets. That’s where she found Zrask, who had been forced to help them build it, and she helped rescue a bunch of scientists. Randall and his boss wanted us to go back there and finish off the job. Destroy the base or the prototype or whatever. The thing is, Callia hadn’t been able to escape the planet without notice, so it was probably going to be crazy dangerous, and then Randall was being all weird about compensation. After they’d sent Santos off to help with one of their patrols he said some pretty hurtful and false things about me and money and what I care about. But I’m not a freaking soldier. None of us are, not even Callia anymore. You want me to drop food and medicine for refugees, we can have a civil conversation. You want me to make a bombing run on a death ray, I want hazard pay.

None of this mattered in the end because the Imps started dropping bombs on our heads and deploying ground troops, because of course they discovered the location of the base while we were visiting. Rakine took Qurzer with her to go blow the computer core, while Callia, GARBOL and I climbed out along this terrifying canyon to set off controlled explosions that would slow their foot soldiers. We had to wait for Santos to get back inside, and when he zipped by on his sandspeeder he had TIE fighters right behind him.

After I almost fell off a cliff, we hustled back into the base towards the Rainbow Dash where we found Santos in the middle of a lightsaber battle with the creepiest guy I’ve ever seen. Callia jumped right in there, but he had Katryn Organa with him as well, fitted with a brand new cybernetic arm. She was firing on Santos so I shot her to get her attention, and then nailed her real good with a frag. Unfortunately it blew her in range close enough to punch me right in the face with her shiny hand. First she asked me to surrender though… honestly, I would’ve boarded that shuttle if it meant the wacko with the lightsaber would stop cutting Callia and Santos to pieces. But that wasn’t a promise she was gonna make.

We ended up having to retreat, in the end. GARBOL was knocked offline, but Rakine managed to put him back together once we were all on the Dash. Santos and I (mostly Santos) got us offworld and we jumped to hyperspace before the Star Destroyers in orbit could get us.

I guess we need to drop Rakine on the Rebels’ backup base on Jagomir, or at least rendezvous with their transport ships so she can reunite with them. But quite frankly I don’t want to stick around. We even negotiated a great big 50,000 credit paycheck for the Onderon job, but I’d be perfectly happy to walk away from that money if it means no lightsaber fights for a while.

In the middle of all of this, Zrask installed the eye I picked up on Nar Shaddaa. It’s nice to have depth perception again. If anything the world seems clearer and crisper than it ever did. And it’s got an appraiser’s eye built in, so I’ve got this heads-up display I can toggle on and off to help us when we’re buying and selling cargo. Which reminds me we haven’t actually bought and sold cargo in a really long time. We’re gonna get rusty.

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Episode XI: Making amends
zet's journal

It feels like a lot has happened since Palob died. Maybe we should’ve just taken the Void Crow and his remains directly to this daughter. But at the time we didn’t have the credits to get the Dash back from Teemo and we had no other way to get around, so we put it off. Then Shard and the Black Suns happened, and we went off on that detour with Ashur…

But we couldn’t put this off forever. The Rebels asked to borrow Callia for something and she accepted, so in the meantime, Santos, Qurzer, and I went to meet Palob’s daughter Sundance. The Void Crow had the location of a cantina she owns on Nubia so we figured that was our best bet. It wasn’t the nicest hole in the wall which meant it was my kind of place. We didn’t have any trouble getting in to see her, either.

I just kept thinking, you know, what would I do or think or feel if someone showed up one day and told me that one or both of my parents was dead? How do you break that to somebody? We did the best we could, and we told her we’d make whatever arrangements she needed to get the Void Crow back from Nar Shaddaa.

Her uncle was there too. Things got interesting as soon as he introduced himself. Joran Raider, formerly of BlasTech Industries. I’d never seen one of his custom blasters up close before. It turns out Palob had been delivering his blasters for him ever since he left BlasTech, and he still had one unfinished job. We agreed right away that we’d handle it for whatever his typical fee was. (Santos later reminded me to always get the ACTUAL number before the job. It’s not like I forgot. I just felt bad for this family.)

Of course, then we found out we were making a run to Coruscant of all places. And we couldn’t get off Nubia without getting into a fight with someone. I don’t know what’s up with the security droids on that planet, but they accused us of holding some kind of stolen information and then a ronto got free, a fight broke out, we blew up some droids and then stole a police landspeeder. All in a day’s work.

Sundance tagged along for the trip, which started out altogether too easy. No trouble getting into Coruscant, no trouble getting into this fancy admiral’s house, no trouble making the delivery and getting our meager payment. But as soon as we left the guy’s office we heard blaster fire, and went back in to find him dead. Coruscant is one of the last planets I want to be found next to some famous dead war hero. Unfortunately the authorities arrived too quickly for us to make an escape, and we all realized that the admiral’s Raider Arms blaster had been stolen. The police were ready to take us in to jail right away, but Qurzer and I convinced them to let us hunt for the real killer.

Honestly I was ready to skip out on that as soon as they let us go, but Sundance insisted that we needed to make sure that the blaster went back to Joran if the buyer wasn’t going to have it. We’d found a Black Seraph lighter in the room, so we figured there was nowhere better to start looking than the haunts of a seedy swoop gang.

We found our way to one of their makeshift death traps and talked our way in as potential racers. Santos took the swoop down to the track while Qurzer, Sundance, and I headed up into the manager’s box. Honestly, when Santos gets into stuff like this I can hardly stand to watch, even though I know he’s basically the best pilot ever. Qurzer kept an eye on the race and fed him information over the commlink while I took a look at the other patrons. Lo and behold, who did I spot but a Devorian I’d seen at the dead admiral’s party. After narrowly avoiding a shootout with the bartender (???) we had a little talk, and I convinced him to work with me to at least help clear our names. He lead me outside to show me where they were keeping the blaster, and Sundance followed at a distance.

It’s a good thing she did because the first thing this shuuta did was stuff me in a box. I heard blaster fire and then Sundance pulled me right back out of it. I have no idea if that Devorian is alive or dead. In the meantime, Santos was winning us a cool 59,000 credits in the swoop race. He showed up just as a bunch of Black Seraphs walked into the alley looking to start a fight. It was over fast, but not before their head mechanic got Santos in the leg with a vibroknife. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a stab wound that awful.

One of the other racers showed up to try to bully us into giving up our money, but Qurzer and I must have looked a little crazy by then so we managed to scare her off. We got back to the police, turned in the Devorian, and got the hell out of dodge.

We’re en route to Nar Shaddaa now, taking Sundance back to her father’s ship. I’ve got enough now to look into cybernetic eyes while we’re there. Then we need to touch base with Callia to find out where we need to go to pick her up, and then who knows?

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Episode XI: In Which I win a race, and lose a leg
Santos' Journal

We finally got around to dropping of the box of Paleb to Sundance. Turns out she and her uncle, Joran Raider had been waiting for him for quite some time so that he could deliver a luxury blaster, custom made by Raider. Since we were vaguely and indirectly responsible for Paleb’s early departure from this world, we felt obligated to complete his last job, at the fee he had negotiated (for future reference, we need to multiply that fee by at least the number of crew members currently on board.)

Turns out the delivery was to a retired military officer, who lived on the Imperial Centre. That’s the best place for a force-sensitive Chiss to go right? I knew I’d fit right in! The actual delivery went off without a hitch. That is, until the man got himself murdered, and his new toy stolen. Police quickly came and blamed us for the entire thing, but Zet and Qurzer convinced them to let us investigate to find the actual murderer. They gave us 24 hours.

Earlier, we noticed an emblem on a lighter that belonged to a local gang, the Black Seraphs. They were congregating for a street racing event, which I was fortunate enough to join. The race was ridiculously dangerous, with every leg designed to kill. I mean, it was probably very dangerous for everyone else, but I had Qurzer feeding me information through our comms. I was kinda bored. With the passage of each leg of the race fewer and fewer racers remained, until at the last leg, a straightaway to the finish, my only competition was a hotshot named Sunny. She drew her blaster and opened fire at me, so I made the weapon fall out of her hand, took the lead and won the whole thing.

After crossing the finish line, I ended up running into Zet, Qurzer and Sundance in a fight with some Black Seraph thugs, so naturally I joined in. One of them didn’t seem to like that much, and cut my leg open with a vibroblade. Not cool! I think I’ll be limping for a very long time, but at least I won a huge pot of credits for my troubles.

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A Quiet Conversation
Roleplay Log

Travelling amongst the stars in a large metal container means that one cannot avoid another forever. Especially when the other comes seeking that one out.

It’s during one of those moments when Santos is manning the cockpit in hyperspace alone that the Jedi wanders in. Her face is devoid of it’s usual dark makeup and she’s dressed down in comfortable trousers and shirt. “Ah. Here you are,” she states. “Are you busy at the moment?”

Santos looks back briefly at Callia before focusing back on his piloting. Sure, at this point, autopilot would work fine, but it gives him an excuse to avoid the rest of the crew. Looks like it didn’t work out to well.

“You mean aside from the constant recalculations needed to keep us from flying into a star? Not really. What’s on your mind?” Stupid question. He’s been avoiding Callia since he pushed Nissa to her death. What else would be on her mind?

Callia lets out a quiet snort, one eyebrow arching up at Santos’ back. “It may have been 18 years, but I do know that autopilot can do that for you.” She sits in the copilot seat, left leg crossing over the right. “You’ve been avoiding me. It’s understandable, of course. If this relationship were reversed and the situation reversed, I would be doing the same.” She lets that hang in the air for the moment. “I just wanted to talk. I know the aftermath of what happened isn’t easy and I am worried about you.”

“Yeah. As childish as it is, I have been avoiding you.”. With a deep sigh, Santos puts the Dash on auto and turns the chair to face the JEDI.

“‘Worried about Santos’ seems to a common sentiment lately.”. He says with annoyance tinted with guilt. “Actually, I’m kinda worried too. I lost control and did something I shouldn’t have, and it could have gone real bad. But I’m still me. Until the next crisis, anyway.”

“I don’t believe it’s childish.” Callia replies. “It’s a natural instinct, to want to avoid confrontation or what might be perceived as disappointment from a peer. I am not disappointed, though.”

She sighs. “I know you don’t want your friends worrying about you, Santos, but that’s part of the packaged deal. I know the difficulty of letting your emotions sweep you away in a situation like that. It’s going to be harder for you to keep from going back to that edge, as I’m sure you are already feeling. The Dark Side will tempt you with the easy route. It will always be there, taunting. Now is the time to truly learn emotional control.”

Well, that was unexpected. Santos was certain there would be a lecture when Callia finally cornered him. Maybe it shouldn’t have been a surprise, though. Callia’s had her own recent brush with the dark side, and it must have been worse for her, having farther to fall.

“I get that,” Santos replies somberly, “but how do you control yourself when people you care about are in danger? You saw what that woman did to Zet, right? If she was still alive she be a continued danger. A continued source of fear and anxiety.” Much like Nossk, the Admiral, hell, maybe even Medusa now that she knows about him and Callia.

“I did see what she did to Zet, yes.” Callia replies. “Disgust and anger bubbles at the surface when I think about it.”

She pauses and takes a deep breath in, then exhales slowly. “We have plenty of sources of fear and anxiety to go around, I believe. The Black Sun may be the worse of them or it may not, but it certainly isn’t the only one.” Another pause. “I have to compartmentalize, myself. I put my focus into how I’m going to protect those I care about rather than how I will destroy those who hurt them. Control is something you need to teach yourself to do and it comes with practice and time.”

“Practice, and time? I can do that.” Santos begins to sound more optimistic. “We’ll just have to find jobs to take that steer us away from the Black Suns and other threats for a while. Good jobs, jobs you would approve of.” He’s not really sure any jobs smugglers can take would get a jedi’s stamp of approval, but why let details get in the way?

“I know you can.” Callia agrees. “It may mean more meditation, which I know you despise. But I know you can do it, Santos. I will help you in any way I can, as well. We’ll both need to watch each other and make sure we don’t go down a path that will lead us all to destruction.”

She laughs softly. “We’ll find work doing what we can. I’m sure there are planets in need of food or medical supplies we can find.”

“Ugh meditation? There has to be another way!” Santos will never understand how Callia can be so enthusiastic about sitting in a dark room doing nothing. “How about I just focus on the stars in front of us, and call that meditation?”

“That would be a form of meditation, yes,” Callia smirks. “Meditation isn’t all about sitting in dark rooms and clearing your mind. It can take many forms, which I’m sure we’ve discussed before. Practicing your lightsaber kata, for example? It is one of my preferred methods of meditation.”

She pauses. “It will require more than that, as well. Meditation will be a good starting point to truly examine yourself and learn how to be at peace with everything around you in a controlled environment. You will still be tested in the rest of the world. More likely sooner rather than later, considering the lifestyle we lead.”

Finally, she leans back in the chair, staring out into the void of hyperspace flashing past them. “Do not let yourself be tempted by the Force in a way that you bend it to your will. Allow it to flow through you, to guide you.”

“I was more planning to hide the force away in a tiny mindbox and never let it out.” Santos replies, visibly uncomfortable. “But I get the feeling that won’t help matters, will it?”

Callia stays silent for a few moments, perhaps trying to wrap her mind around the idea of never letting the Force out. “I haven’t heard of anyone who has successfully done such a thing before.” She admits. “To be honest, I could not think of a reason why one would want to.”

The silence drags on longer until she sighs. “I understand that it’s hard, Santos. To have to police yourself, to have so much control on your own emotions and morality is difficult. The payoff is worth it, in the end. The Force can be dangerous, of course, but it can also be comforting. It’s all a matter of how you decide to use it.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Santos replies with a sign of resignation, “This is pretty much why I left Csilla in the first place. I don’t want to have to control my emotions, and become a good little frozen-heart Chiss, or a hollow jedi posterchild. There must be some middle ground. It can’t be just the two extremes.”

“I’m not suggesting you become frozen-hearted…” Callia replies softly. There is a note of melancholy in her voice. “I hope you don’t see me that way, Santos.” This isn’t about her, though. She needs to remember that. “We will find a middle ground for you.”

“No, not you. I know better than that.” Santos has certainly seen the extend of Callia’s emotions. “But the jedi did have a certain reputation, in recent history anyway.” He stands up, stretching his legs as much as possible in the cramped cockpit, then turns his chair to lean on it, crossing his arms on the back. “I believe we’ll figure this out too, for all my flaws, I am an optimist. I need to keep telling my self that if everyone is standing, and in one piece, that is all that matters.”

“Yes, I suppose they did. Even that was blown out of proportion. We’re all living beings, after all. No one is perfect.” She smiles. “I think standing and being in one piece is a good place to start. We are doing better than many in the galaxy.” She stands up herself and makes to leave. “We’ll get there, Santos. It’s just a matter of…figuring it out.” She pauses. “But if you do feel yourself slipping or the urge to do something drastic, please let me know. I will help you in any way I can.”

“I will, Callia.” Santos concedes, almost under his breath, “if I know, anyway.” A bit louder, “my plan is still avoidance. If not of using the force, then of violent situations. Maybe we can go from planet to planet rescuing loth-cats from trees or something?” Not much profit in that, surely, but at least it would keep him in the grey.

“I think avoidance of violent situations is always a good choice,” Callia says. “I certainly don’t seek out those situations. They just seem to come to us of their own volition.” She chuckles. “Well, loth-cats are mostly on Lothal, from what I understand. I suppose we could just travel the planet rescuing them from trees. Perhaps we should find some reputable sources of cargo to transport.”

The Chiss stares out at the stars for a moment, doubting that he knows any ‘reputable sources.’ “Does Nebula count? He’d probably jump at the chance to work with you. Maybe he could give us a supply run. Something to make us feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

“Yes, I know he would jump at the chance. I believe I may owe him a favor soon enough, especially if I keep bringing strays to his step.” Callia’s wry grin is accompanied by a glance toward the rest of the ship where somewhere Ashur is asleep. “I’m sure Nebula has work we can do for him. I’m more concerned that it would be of a more confrontational nature.”

“He doesn’t seem to lack people willing to blow stuff up for him.” Santos’ experiences with Rakine suggest they are all to capable of confrontation in their own right. “And I’m not inclined to believe he’d risk one of the only surviving Jedi on a direct assault. We’re smugglers, and he knows it. If he’s smart enough to command the rebellion, he’d better be smart enough to trust our strengths.”

“That is true.” Callia replies. “He also knows the strengths and skills of a Jedi, even if I was never fully trained as one. We will see what sort of work he has to offer us.” She brushes her fingers along one of the panels, eyeing the readouts. “I should check on our guest, see how he is holding out. Perhaps we can open that holocron we discovered.”

“Alright. I’ll stay here and make sure we don’t die a horrible, fiery death.” Santos take the Dash off autopilot. “Let me know if you need help with that holocron. I have some experience with them.”

“You are good at doing that.” Callia grins with one final glance back at Santos. “And I will. You do have more expertise than I in that area. If I do not need your help, I will be sure to show you what’s inside, at the very least.” She smiles and then takes her leave.

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Episode X: I don't test well
zet's journal

Before falling in with Callia, I honestly didn’t spend much time unearthing old stuff to sell it. Smuggling and grave robbing are overlapping but different areas of expertise. I’m really starting to see the potential payoff now, not that it makes her very happy…

Gorn tipped us off to some job in a university on Eriadu, so we went there, pretended to be prospective students and were promptly assaulted with an eight hour orientation and a barrage of tests, which I failed. I’ve never spent a day in school in my life. Qurzer had our backs though.

Then we were able to meet with Gorn’s scholar contact, Ashur Sungazer. This guy was obsessed with Jedi. I think once he spends some more time up close and personal with them, the novelty will really wear off. Everyone good at that kind of thing (basically everyone else) spent some time looking up information on this lost Jedi ship until they concluded we needed to head into the Deep Core to find it. At Callia’s request (!) I straight-up stole a precious Jedi talisman from the archives and then we had to hightail it out of there before the authorities could catch us.

Santos and GARBOL got us into the Deep Core without too much trouble, where we were able to locate the starship in decaying orbit around a sun. The thing was practically falling apart, and as we explored further we found a fully functional Basilisk war droid left over from the Mandalorian Wars. (See, I did learn something in university.) Santos ended up having to let off an EMP to mess the thing up, and as a team we managed to deactivate it. Then GARBOL kept it. That droid is beyond weird.

Deeper in the ship, we found some kind of weird old Jedi room, where Callia managed to pick up another one of those holocron things. Meanwhile, I made Ashur promise that each of us gets to keep one relic from the starship after he’s done cataloging them, so that’s gonna pay off huge. We don’t do charity work for nerds.

It was really good to have the whole crew back together again though. The pain in my head is fading, even if the dreams aren’t. I’m still broke, but once I get my hands on some credits again I want to start thinking about something cybernetic.

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Episode X: Frosh Week
Santos' Journal

So after our daring and completely successful rescue of Zet, we decided it’d be best to stay away from criminal organizations for a while, just to help keep me from becoming the next dark lord of the sith.

We got word that there was something of interest in a university, so we made our way there, and Qurzer easily forged some IDs for us claiming we were professors. Not a stretch for Callia or me, but the rest for the rest of the group, especially the droid, maybe a bit of a stretch.

We get through our orientation to the university and promptly bomb the entrance exam. Luckily our expert hacker Selonian cleaned up the results, and we were given free access to the school, and to our contact, Ashur Stungazer. Ashur led us to a room full of relics, one of which was of particular interest to Callia. Zet, the good friend that she is, naturally stole it for her, and we raced out of the university and off the planet before they could complete a lockdown.

The amulet led us to an ancient temple drifting in space, near the centre of the galaxy. Super creepy, and half of it was scarred with combat damage, and exposed to space, but we managed to board the vessel, and explore some. Then, we met the basilisk. There just happened to be a funtional mandalorian war droid hanging out, naturally. It looked like we’d be quickly killed by the droid, until I activated the on board EMP, which disabled it enough for the others to take it down. It’s on the Rainbow Dash right now. Thanks, GARBOL. The basilisk did nearly kill me before it was taken care of, but that seems to be a recurring theme lately.

With that done, Callia leads the way to what appeared to be a meditation or training room, where she found a holocron. Ashur nearly wet himself with excitement over all the relics we were able to retrieve. Zet negotiated for each of us to have first choice of relics before he turned the rest over to some institute or another.

So here we are, riding off into the sunset with a ship full of treasures, and a murderous war droid that will likely be the end of us all.

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Episode IX: Reunion
zet's ic journal

Here are the things that happened:

On Nar Shaddaa, that bounty hunter (now I know she goes by Shard) caught up with us, nearly blew Santos and I away, threw me off a ledge hundreds of feet in the air, and then took me straight to the Black Suns.

Between her and the Suns I lost every credit to my name and nearly everything I own.

The cartel locked me up in a room alone with hardly any food or water for a period of time I still can’t account for. Then a vigo took my eye out.

None of that makes sense, and sometimes when I’m asleep I forget that I’m back on the Dash with Santos sleeping in the top bunk again, and I wake up and feel cold and alone until I remember.

My crew, my friends, came to get me. We fought our way off the top of some kind of insane tower on an ice planet, and in the end Santos threw Nyssa off the edge and probably killed her. He has a lightsaber now. I’m worried about him. I think it’s good that we’re together. He’s freaked out that he might fall and hurt me, and maybe that’ll keep him on the light side. I’m freaked out about basically everything, but now I can just look out for him (haha…) instead of having nothing to think about but myself and how hurt and scared I am.

I’m glad to be home. I’m never going to say that I hope things get back to normal ever again. It’s getting to be more and more obvious that they won’t. If this level of insanity is the new normal for us, maybe I just need to get right with it… and practice firing a blaster with one good eye.

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