Sallo. Sallo is here, or at least was here. I’ve been able to focus on our immediate needs, tending to our wounds, finding work when we can, and other such mundane activates. But now this, and it’s all flooding back. The betrayal, the detainment, and the last bit of my former life flying away to parts unknown.
I need to get a handle on our immediate happenings, everything has been happening so quickly, it’s difficult to keep it all straight. Our group needs to discuss things, we’re we’ve all been, where we’re supposed to be going. We can’t just continue wandering around this sector, we need direction. Purpose.
Maybe if I lay out everything that’s been happening in my log, I can figure out what we should be doing next. Our crew has gotten a little bigger, Judge is a welcome addition. We’ve unfortunately had more and more need for extra firepower in our various encounters. I’m so rusty with a blaster, my former CO would have me at the firing range every day for a month if he could see me now.
We got call from Jerry, a few days late unfortunately, but apparently his little “opportunity” was still available to us. It seems he was contacted by one of his regular customers, which is apparently quite strange for this customer in particular. Some kind of distress call. It became clear though that this was not one of Jerry’s best customers, which is why we got the job. We agreed, for a small fee, to head out to track this person down, and maybe claim a rescue prize. We also bought up his supplies (1500 credits worth) in the hopes of a re-sale.
After learning of the destination, we rented some cold-weather gear. I much prefer the snow and wind to a desert planet any day. I’m thinking we need to invest in more of our own equipment; I’m really not too fond of renting things, though we had little choice at the moment. With our gear in hand, Tass took us off planet and we went off to track down the distress call.
Impressively, Tass was able to track down the location of the call on the planet surface, though there was nothing but faint life signs and a wreck of a ship. Someone spotted an ideal landing area and we stepped out into the cold, dark world. Fancying ourselves explorers, we tied ourselves to each other, since only a few of us were smart enough to bring some way to see in the dark (I’m excluded from that group by the way – I need to get better prepared). We find the ruined husk of the ship and push our way in. We walked into something out of a nightmare.
The cockpit was smashed to oblivion, with the unlucky pilot long dead. The pilot, incidentally, turned out to be our contact. So much for selling the supplies back to him (though we’d find another buyer later, or at least it seemed like it). 8s was able to extract the black box from the ship, though we didn’t have the equipment to find anything out from it as of yet. We then started to explore the rest of the ship.
It’s difficult to describe the extent of the damage, both to the organic and mechanical. It seemed like the ship was carrying slaves of some kind, many who died upon impact. Something else was either let loose, or got into the ship. It appears to be the later, as we later learned that strange panther-like creatures we ran into are native to the area. I felt useless trying to treat some of the injured, but they were just so far gone (a running theme, I would soon discover). I brought one unfortunate soul back from oblivion for a time to answer a few questions. I hate doing that, but we had to learn what happened. I made him as comfortable as possible as he faded away. I hope he’s found peace.
We soon learned we weren’t completely alone, and tracked a wookie outside the ship. We stumbled through the darkness – wait, check that, I stumbled through the darkness. Fortunately Tass kept me steady, as she often does. We found the wookie, but he was injured, and more of those damned panther-like creatures were around us. Two were upon us, and fortunately the greater skills of my companions prevailed. I was little more than a target there, trying to keep myself available for emergency care. It was all I could do not to rush over to the wookie, but I would have been eviscerated I’m sure if I struck off on my own. The wookie was dead, too far gone for me to do anything… again.
Without much else to look for, and failing to scavenge anything from the wrecked ship, we boarded the Luna Moth and took off, looking for answers. We managed to find a small outpost, and decided to set down nearby. This is going to end up being either one of the smartest or dumbest things we’ve decided to do.
This is some kind of small mining outpost. We met up with one of the directors, Darwin Brandal I think. Turns out our ill-fated contact (“Jim Smith”) had been their supplier for quite some time, and was overdue for a delivery. In what will probably be our last bit of luck for the time being, we happened to have that very supply in our holds. Darwin offered us twice what we paid (3000 credits). They were in dire straits, I didn’t have the heart to negotiate. My first instinct was to hand it over for a bit less, but I need to remember I have a responsibility to this group. I also take it I’ll need to save up quite a bit if I’m ever going to get back home.
Since we (1) weren’t under fire and (2) weren’t hunting anything, I decided to clear my head a bit and volunteered to administer some medical attention. I was right in thinking this place was sorely under-staffed, it’s going to be difficult leaving these people when our business is done. I left Zech, 8s, and Tass to tend to the black box (I guess I should really just say 8s to tend to it). I’m not quite sure what 8s does or finds in the equipment he examines, but I feel we’re all much better off when I excuse myself from the situation.
I left to tend to someone named Iggy, who was recovering from a substance abuse problem. A man named Jeret directed me to him. This time, I was smart enough to contact my crew, and had Zech come over to watch my back. We may be partial saviors to this outpost for now, but there no guarantee the whole populace will feel the same way.
I’m still trying to understanding what happen soon after. Iggy was delirious, mumbling about looking for someone in the woods. He had… something… rather, some things inside of him. They drained power from my tools, and other electronics in the area, feeding off the energy or something, and collected all in Iggy’s stomach. They burst out in a horrific display, cutting the lights, and dispersing throughout the room. Zech acted quickly, shielding us from them, but not without burning his foot in some acid these damnable things apparently spit out. I grabbed a small sample before we left. Iggy was, well, the usual.
As is always the case, things got worse. Some kind of seismic event rocked the colony. The rest of the crew and I were OK, but there was some kind of cave-in. When I met up with the others, I was already preparing to head over to the mine. Fortunately the fuel we brought had been put to good use, and we had decent transport available. But that changed, at least for the moment, when I ran into Tass and 8s. Imperials. Sallo Eriston. One big, horrible, damnable coincidence, the only kind we seem to run into these days. We had a brief argument about whether we should stay or not, but I just couldn’t leave these people. Tass was probably right, we should have just left; that would be the smart and safe thing to do. But I don’t think I could have lived with myself. And for extra incentive, it was going to be a lot harder for any of us to live if we didn’t complete our transaction with Darwin for the supplies.
And so here we are, speeding off to the mine. Hopefully with fewer “too far gone” conditions than I’ve been running into lately. Part of me hopes the imperials are there. Or at least some sign of them, some sign of Sallo. I need to speak with him, find out what they did with Quintus. It would be the closest I’ve been to home in a long time.