Nothing on Abhean

Encrypted Log 2
Strong Drinks and Personalities

File Located…

~\Encryption\Decrypt …

Decryption Successful

Just when Sjo had finally fully recovered from her imprisonment and the wounds taken from our escape—-honestly, I’m not sure which hurt her more—-our fate seemed to turn from bad to worse. Junglefish was hosting an opportunity for entertainment and gambling. While I couldn’t help myself, I was able to break even before quitting his game. I knew my odds, but I had to at least see what would happen. I won a free drink, but I know that Junglefish never gives anything out for free. There had to have been some catch. Fortunately for me, I found a girl in the bar who looked a little out of her depth and sent her the drink instead. She didn’t take it, probably a smart move since she had two of them already.

Sjo doesn’t gamble, so once I was done, we resumed our plans for escaping the ISB’s notice. Central to that plan was the need to get credits—-lots of them. Interrupting our discussion, a female zabrak struted forward and entered our conversation without introducing herself. In the nets or the street, she’d have been filleted alive, but I was curious to see what made her so confident. Playing the role of a womanizing dick had always come naturally to me, and it seemed like it would fit this situation perfectly.

After a little back and forth she finally relinquished her name, Asier, but she also claimed to be a Night Sister! Who announces that with the Empire hunting force sensitives? I soon began to think that the whole conversation was a grandiose joke because she started asking for a poison to kill a hutt. I played along for four reasons: first, I could get her the poison she wanted; second, she was offering a decent stash of credits; third, I could always sell her info to the imperials or the hutts; and fourth, I was curious to see what would happen.

We were soon interrupted again by the girl I sent the drink to earlier in the night. She introduced herself as Jena, and I introduced myself as a Night Sister. Only I thought it was funny, which makes me think that Asier might have been telling the truth. A very valuable secret indeed. Asier promised her a chunk of change as well to assist. She accepted. Sjo stayed pretty quiet, but I could tell she was weighing her options. What a rag-tag group we turned out to be, but I wasn’t complaining as each of them were pleasing in their own ways.

Jena said she knew a place that we could talk about more details, but when we got outside, she looked dazed for a moment before pointing in a general direction. We headed that way, but she just seemed to be getting lost. Finally they asked if I could hack into the back door of a garage. It was manageable, but before I even hit the first firewall, the door swung open and we were invited in. Apparently, this was the place Jena was looking for. Stupid luck. After a little talking, she took an sling racer’s engine onto her back—-stronger than she looks—-and we began searching for a garbage skiff. After a few acrobatics, we were on our way to Craze E in the junk yard to get some mods. This night is getting more bizarre by the moment, but I couldn’t help but want to know what’s next. I fell asleep on a bag of old clothes headed for the dump.

I awoke to the feeling of the truck backing up and hopped out before getting dumped with the rest of the rubbish. Wandering around the yard we eventually found our way to the Craze E’s house, or maybe workshop. I’m still not certain. A very polite droid acted as translator between us and Craze Excelon who was a verpine. He agreed to do the mods on the engine for 2,000 credits, but Jena wasn’t given any credits and didn’t ask for them. To make things worse, she didn’t even know the engine owner’s name to have him billed. When we were about to leave, he offered us a trade for a different modded engine for only 1,000 credits. I think his impulse to mod the original was more the reason for the offer than his desire to help us, but I wasn’t going to argue. The pre-modded engine looked like it had some of the latest gear I’ve seen on the nets, so as long as it fits, we should be good. We didn’t have the cash, but Sjo did. Debt sucks, but I can’t wait to see how Jena is going to explain this.

With the deal made, we just had to burn some time until the next rubbish skiff showed up so we could hop a ride back, but Craze had a task for us. I’m thinking he wanted peace more than he needed help, but we were bored. He asked us to clean out some of the insects that were living in the junkyard in exchange for some weapon upgrades. I had no interest in being apart of a pest control sweep, but the others agreed. I stayed behind to watch the modifications which clearly troubled Jena. She tried to make me promise that I wouldn’t watch what she would have modded. I lied, and she seemed to know. She took Craze aside and after a brief chat stormed away. Not sure what’s going on, but I am more curious than ever.

While the group was out, Craze got to work. I’ve never seen somebody intuit and work with metal like doctors work with people. I was awe struck, and I focused as hard as I could to glean wisdom from this master. When he completed Asier’s pike, he offered me some refreshments and left the workbench to log something on his computer. I couldn’t help but notice he was writing a very lengthy message and that it’s send time was too long to be planetary. Something wasn’t right. Did his message have something to do with the engine, or with whatever Jena was so concerned, and pissed off, about? Either way, I doubt it meant anything good for us.

The group returned dragging three dead bugs with them. Asier wanted me to make a poison from their glands, but I told her that would take time and equipment that we didn’t have at the moment. Craze’s message was weighing heavily on my mind as I suggested we take the glands with us and make the poison in a lab elsewhere. Distracted as I was, my assistance wasn’t that helpful as Jena was only able to harvest one gland. I pressed them to leave and once outside shared what I knew of the message. We agreed to get away from there as soon as possible—-even delaying some medical treatment that Sjo and Asier obviously needed until the ride back.

If things keep heating up, I’ll likely need to add more security to future logs.


Ta'Jena Keeran - Journal Entry 3
Hunting and hunters

That went better than expected. We did not die and were, in fact, victorious over the nest of kouhun that inhabited Craze Excellon’s junkyard. There was a moment that I feared I would be forced to reveal my saber, but fortunately, my companions are capable warriors, all save Thomas, who remained with the mechanic.

Our journey to the junkyard was uneventful. Asier shared more details about our primary mission. We are to recover a twi’lek slave from the local Hutt and return her to Senator Orn Fre Taa’s agent. The others seemed unconcerned with the fate of the slave, which I find distressing.

Sjo’s reaction was especially disconcerting: her lack of empathy towards the twi’lek girl frustrated me. How can any of them think of trading the life of a being for credits and passage off Abhean? I think, perhaps, Thomas would agree with me, had he not been sleeping.

Upon arriving at the junkyard, we sought the path to Craze Excellon. I attempted to sense the verpine’s location, but I could not grasp the Force. I fear the stress of the last few hours clouded my vision. I determined our path forward, and when Asier disagreed, I separated from the group, determined to prove my worth as a pathfinder.

I chose poorly. My pride led me into danger. I can hear Master Bara’do’s warnings even still: pride is the path to folly; trust it not or it will betray you. Thank the Force I only came across one kouhun. I calmed it and returned to the rest of the group.
Once we found Craze Excellon, it became clear that I did not think this task through. I asked for no money from the anzat to pay for the repairs, so we were faced with a choice. The verpine offered to sell us a different engine for only a thousand credits and the engine we brought in exchange. Thomas insists it is better.

Sjo paid for the engine out of her own purse and made it clear that she is owed recompense. I hope it is only her and not the deep pockets of the empire to which I have indebted myself. I will clear that debt as quickly as I can.

Instead of waiting idly for the next garbage scow, we decided to clear the kouhun infestation in exchange for modification work. Thomas made his intention to remain clear, and I attempted to persuade him to join us. I cannot have him discover my secret. He was not swayed.

I took the verpine and droid aside and showed them my training saber. They told me they cannot modify it. It is as I feared. If I want a true saber, I will have to construct it myself. Should I even keep this child’s toy? It endangers me more than it can protect me. Perhaps I should leave it in this trash heap with the rest of my Jedi heritage.

I guided Asier and Sjo to the kouhun and we fought them. Both Sjo and Asier were wounded, but the Force protected me. I am certain now that Asier is a Nightsister. She used the Force to throw some of the kouhun about, and I could taste the tremor of her anger in the Force.

I feared it would come to a close melee and was ready to draw my saber, but that proved unnecessary. For the best. If the Imperial saw my saber, she might sell my head to her superiors for a promotion. If she has fallen out of their favor, as her condition might suggest, she might use me to gain back their good graces.

It is for the best. The scar still hurts, and my motions are still not as fluid as they once were. It will take more time and healing before my capability with the saber has returned. I have not had a chance since arriving on Abhean to research what the creature was that did this to me. I may never find the answer.

Sjo was surrounded and injured. It might have been best for me and for Asier as well if the Imperial died, but I could not allow that, not while we are tentatively allied. With my blaster, I cleared away some of the kouhun harrying her, and she handled the rest with that sword of hers.

We defeated the kouhun and returned to the verpine’s camp. There was some tension over a sword borrowed by Asier that became damaged in the fight, but I forwent any modifications to bring peace. For a moment, I felt like a Jedi again, bringing balance and mediation to two feuding sides.

That feeling passed quickly when Thomas informed us he saw the verpine sending a long range communication. We agreed to leave quickly, to my relief. I fear it was foolish to trust the verpine. Showing him the saber may bring the empire’s hunters down upon my head, but if they come, perhaps my new allies will be helpful.

Only time will tell. Sitting on this garbage scow, heading back toward the city, I am uneasy. This task was fairly simple. Facing a hutt will not be.

The time is coming when I will not be able to hide who I am anymore, and that thought makes me tremble. I am quickly learning: I don’t really know who I am.

Encrypted Log 1
ISB Escape

File Located…

~\Encryption\Decrypt …

Decryption Successful

My trip to visit with Winston took an unexpected turn. Upon entering orbit around Abhean, I was detained and thrown into a holding cell. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I was questioned about my travels. Like an idiot, I mentioned Winston’s handle. I don’t think they’ll be able to track him down, but that was a slip I can’t afford to make in the future.

The bigger issue is that they asked me about the incident at the hospital and my involvement with it. I made up a story about flirting with a nurse, but I’m not convinced they bought it. I got the feeling that he was the “good” cop and the “bad” cop was still on the way. While I was contemplating my impending demise, a droid opened my and a female-detainee-from-across-the-way’s cells. No guards—-odd. She must have some powerful friends to pull that off.

I was able to slice the cell block computer and get a map of the complex. I’m not sure why a woman in an imperial uniform was in a cell, but I didn’t have time to ask questions; and thankfully for me, she didn’t ask any questions about my ability to slice through the Imperial’s security. The last thing I need is to have people know that somebody with these skills is on Abhean. Though, I am curious what rank she is. I’ll have to dig through the nets to see if I can find a match for her insignia. She was way too observant and on top of things to be anything other than an officer. What did she do to get herself locked up?

The escape was pretty clean. And it turned out that Sjo, the other detainee, was able to get us to the shuttle bay. At the last computer terminal, I couldn’t help but slice back in and see if I could find out what was going on. I was able to purge all references to our detainment from the station’s hard drives and to get the bounty IDs for two person’s of Imperial interest before I tripped an alarm—-or an alarm was tripped. I’m still not sure if they found me in the network, or if they found empty cells. Probably the later, but it didn’t matter.

We were able to get on an automated shuttle and make it planet side, but we had a welcoming committee. Sjo had a brilliant idea to self destruct the ship, but these things weren’t designed for that; however, that doesn’t mean the Imperials know that. I pieced together some code that would initiate a vocal countdown, hoping to buy some time to run. Worked like a charm. We were able to outrun all but one. Sjo took care of him, but caught a couple hits in return.

Now we’re hanging out at the Electric Acklay. I found a shop to sell me some medical supplies. It looked like there was something a little off at the shop. I’ll need to check back there later. Sjo will live and likely not even scar, but the fact that we just escaped an ISB facility is going to make things much more difficult.


Ta'Jena Keeran - Journal Entry 2
Amidst the Trash

I’m not quite sure how I came to be here. There’s garbage all around me, and I am now traveling with three people. I think, perhaps, I drank too much at the Electric Acklay. Yes, that must be the explanation because the choices that led me to this moment are muddy.

I gambled on the racing and won, drawing attention from two individuals: a twi’lek and an anzat. The twi’lek was pale of skin, and I sensed darkness in him. They both acknowledged me and indicated I should join them, and while I decided what to do, a third drink arrived from another table, belonging to a man and a woman who seemed to be wearing an imperial uniform with the coat turned inside out.

I chose to speak with the anzat, discovering that he was a podracer pilot. He wanted me to transport his pod engine to a mechanic who could modify it. Though illegal, he offered five hundred credits for its completion. Such a task is distasteful, but I cannot afford to ignore such a sum of money.

I saw a zabrak speaking to the twi’lek; she may be the one I seek. Once she finished with the twi’lek, who departed, she approached the two humans at the table. I was able to overhear parts of their conversation. The zabrak was attempting to hire them, so I approached and offered my services.

When I approached, the man, Thomas, introduced himself as a Nightsister of Dathomir. An odd proclamation to make, especially in the presence of the zabrak woman, Asier. I suspect she may be a Nightsister. I will have to watch her carefully.

Sjo, the woman wearing the inverted Imperial uniform indicated that we would receive no aid from the Imperials on the mission Asier hired us for. I cannot yet judge her character. She seems haughty and determined, but there is something wounded in her.

I don’t know what possessed me to lead them to the garage where I was to meet the anzat. It led to some confusion on everyone’s part, but it was sorted when my new companions agreed to assist in the transport of the engine.

We stowed aboard this garbage scow to reach the junkyard where the verpine mechanic lives. I am unsure if the Force brought me together with these three others, but they are unusual companions to have. It has been some time since I have traveled with others. Though they are somewhat strange, I do not mind the company.

Ta'Jena Keeran - Journal Entry 1
State of Mind

My mind is not at peace. Since returning from the Unknown Regions, my heart is burdened and my thoughts are full of conflict. The Jedi are gone. Everything is gone.

I miss Master Bara’do and his kind, steady teachings. I could use his guidance now. Fear, anger, hate – they lead to the dark side, but they are all I feel. He would be disappointed in me.

I learned today what became of Galen and Phara. They passed their trials shortly after I left, and when the Clone War began, they fought. Galen fell in battle against the droid armies. From the accounts I could find, his death was quick.

Phara was not so fortunate. She survived to the end of the war. It was difficult to sift through the propaganda and lies of this new Empire, but I believe she was killed by her troops during one of the final battles of the war, when the Jedi allegedly betrayed the Republic. Whoever orchestrated this event, whether it be this new Emperor or some hidden force, wanted the Jedi painted as traitors. They succeeded. Phara was always brash and eager, but never a traitor. Only I know that now.

Maybe I should return to the Unknown Regions. There are worlds aplenty on which to hide. I could live in peace, in hiding, away from this awful universe.

No, I cannot run. Not until I know what happened to Saskia. Oh Force, I hope she made it through the massacres. I hope she escaped the hunters. She knew I was in the Unknown Regions. Perhaps she made it out there. I hope…

If not, my path is clear. I may be the last Jedi. I was never a very good one, so I cannot hope to make the masters proud. I suppose it wouldn’t matter anyway. If I can’t make them proud, then perhaps I can let them rest at peace. Perhaps I can bring justice to those who did this. And if not justice, death.

For now, I’m headed to the Electric Acklay. The bartender there, Junglefish, invited me. He mentioned a Zabrak who might be looking to travel to Dathomir. If I can acquire the records on the Chu’unthor, I may be able to learn more about constructing my own saber. The training saber I took from the temple can only take me so far.

If the Zabrak is a dead end, perhaps I’ll find some work. Whatever becomes of the evening, I will drink to Master Bara’do, to Galen and Phara, and to long life safe away from danger for Saskia.

Personal Log - Lt. Sjo Piett
Pre-session and Session I

Personal Log:
-I’ve deserted the Imperial Fleet. This wasn’t my choice. I was removed from the Predator four days ago and put in a cell to await an ISB officer. That means two things: first, my sister, Einn, has betrayed me to High Command, and two, I cannot be seen wearing this uniform any longer. It must have been Fjorir who programmed the droid that helped me escape. Even still, I don’t think I would have gotten out without Thomas, the guy in the cell across from me. A real computer geek he is, but can’t wield a sword if his life depended on it. I know because we depended on it, and I almost died trying to defend the two of us. Shit, I’ve not only deserted, I’ve attacked an officer today. I’m screwed.

-Question: What the hell am I supposed to do on this junkyard of a planet?

Personal Log:
-Answer: Get a job.
-The bartender of the local Cantina here is pretty helpful. He set up a low stakes gambling event with both people looking for help and people like me who need a job. I’ve stuck with Thomas so far because he is so handy with a med kit. I haven’t really asked why he was imprisoned with me but I think I can assume he’s a suspected force-user as well.

-I took a job for Asier, a Nightsister from Dathomir. She has job to collect a twi’lek from the Hutt in control here. I don’t have a ton of experience with planet-side law enforcement, but I know Hutts are dangerous. Fortunately, she appears experienced with this type of thing. I thought three was a good number to have but then another girl, Jena came right up to us and said she was useful. I surmise she wants something from Asier but I’m not pressing the matter just yet.

-Jena also picked up a job for a local sing-racer. I found myself riding in a garbage truck toward the Abhean Shipyard Junkpile to a verpine hermit. I smell like Bantha fodder. I want to be back aboard the Predator so badly at this moment. Not to mention, Jena has an extreme dislike for the uniform I am still wearing.

-Genius. We got all the way here only to realize that the sling-racer never gave Jena the money for the engine modifications. *Note: Thomas Zahn, Asier, and Jena each owe me 300 credits. I only have about 40 credits left. I’ve been in tighter situations but this is slightly uncomfortable. I can’t leave them until I get my credits back.

-IMPORTANT: Asier is a force-user. I watched her throw a Kouhon in the junk-pile this afternoon. Jena did not seem phased at all. I may be with the wrong people, or I may have found exactly the right people. I tried to command the force to show me a vision of the insect we were tracking today but nothing came.

Question: What triggers my visions?

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