Private Holojournals: Voyage to Firefist (open to OPA)

[Amea Virou]

Have you ever lost a game of pazaak to an avian creature with a brain the size of a peanut? Spent some time at the ship when the damn apokka suddenly approached me, began to peck at the deck of cards laid out on the table. Either I’ve contracted whatever lunacy has afflicted Jerec, or I swear that little creature is something more than it seems.

… I swear, Jerec is behind this somehow.

I don’t know how, but I feel it. Somehow.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

Quekko kicked Amea's behind at pazaak. I got luck on my side too.

(source)​

Captain Silane of the Jasmin's Wake, sans red dress. Rakshir aren't normally my type, but...

Also, she got me the best present ever. Highlight of the trip. It's a pair of Mando crushgaunts with the crush servos taken out and replaced by shockboxing gear. She says she won them off Jorus Merrill before he disappeared or died or whatever.

(source)​

Oh and we finally got frisky, so there's that.

 

[Jend-Ro Quill]

Colonia - a new settlement on a fringe world in a remote companion galaxy - has too many people for me.

I took the Visitor off-planet in advance of the rest of the convoy. From the bounty on the Darksider who I buried, I bought a simple local translation droid.

I wound up at a fuel station just across the Tof border. The only inhabitants are large, hairy, greenish, and taciturn. They grunt in a friendly way and spend most of their time shooting at desert rats. They share food freely and accept my help here and there when they need it. I like them.

If and when the convoy pushes on past Colonia, this outpost is on their planned route. I should be able to rejoin them once I've recharged with some high-quality solitude.

(source)
​

Atlas Drake Griet van Vliet Amea Virou Wynter Rackham

 

[Amea Virou]

Artist (my) rendition of Askihla
(source)​

Horns of a beast, mind of a master. Although the circumstance that had brought us together was exceptional to say the least, it was still an immense honor to spare with Askihlay. I had tried to understand his nomadic tribe’s culture but must have broken some rule of courtesy. Tried to inspect a statuette that they were selling when I found myself jumped by three different warriors. One with a spear made out of some form of animal bone, and the others with intricate blades. I must have impressed the man with my prowess, or something. Before I knew it the impromptu lesson in humility was called off with nothing more than our egos having been bruised in the fight.

My translator was broken but I did my best to understand what had happened. Something in how the man moved felt familiar. Didn’t take too long to realize that their language seemed to be equal parts how you moved your body and how you spoke. Nothing fell upon what you actually said which must have been why my translator failed to pick it up.

To test my might, or as a means to measure my worthiness of pardon, the Caravan Master drew a wide circle in the sands beyond the caravan’s outer border. We took a position on each end before we gave each other a bow. You put one leg forward and then leaned in as if to kneel and let your arms rest by your side. I mimicked the motion and readied myself for the fight.

The bruises I gathered today and the ones I handed out will probably be with me for a while. The man moved with the speed of a hyped up speeder and hit to just about the same effect. Just thinking back to the first few rounds make my bones hurt. Might be because I can’t keep myself from poking the bruises, but hey…

As we continued I felt as if I fell into his rhythm. Whether by his choice or intuition… I am pretty sure it’s the former. I had accepted my punishment, and I had learned just as much as I had taught. I hope he doesn’t learn it too well. Don’t want my fellow Wardens to feel even more inadequate as I did at that point.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

We got jumped by unidentified aliens half a light-year past Colonia, an ambush I guess. Either they had great superluminal sensors or good intel on our route. Fortunately we're a bunch of loose-lipped casuals, so they could have picked up that info anywhere since we reached Firefist. That means we don't need to worry about the whole 'spy in our ranks' thing so much.

Anyways, we won the fight. We've got some great guns hidden in our hulls. Well, not me so much, but even my boat's got surprises.

(source)
​

A couple of damaged freighters doubled back to safe haven on Colonia, but the rest of us pressed on. We'll be skimming the fringes of Tof space and then heading into unclaimed territory, which opens up lots of interesting doors.

Later on, we stumbled on a space graveyard where those alien pirates had ambushed a merchant fleet, probably a couple years ago. The easy salvage was all gone, but whoever stripped the meat off the bones was an amateur. We made bank with a six-hour stopover: plenty of components and alloys to top up our stocks of trade goods. First, though, we gathered up the bodies we could find and gave them a spacer's burial. I don't think anyone took personal effects, just supplies and pure salvage. The place called for respect.

(source)

(source)


Amea Virou Atlas Drake Griet van Vliet Wynter Rackham ​

 

[Jend-Ro Quill]

(source)
​

On a trade station populated by species I've never met, these two and I had a tense chat about ethics and the Force. They're Darksiders as the Jedi would understand it, but I wouldn't call them malevolent, just self-interested and enjoying themselves. They'd heard the name 'Jedi' but that's about it. We didn't see eye to eye. I can't help feeling I missed a chance to make a better impression slash connection, be a better influence.

(source)​

By contrast, this one liked me far too much. She belonged to the Slaine, a Dark Side tradition that's submissive rather than dominant, which is certainly unique. She kept wanting me to, well, impose correction on her. Apparently her people prefer to have such interactions with lightsiders, partnerships even. The guilt and shame are the point. I can't say as I think much of the lightsiders who accept such arrangements. She admits they typically shift toward the dark in the process. It's a fascinating and disturbing tradition.