Campaign of the Month: April 2008

Chronicles of the Amber Wolfe

Dr. Ven Tor's Encrypted Log

ENCRYPTEDBEGIN LOG.

The bubbles of the bacta tank await me, as I'm eager to get out of this medical facility and away from this wretched droid.  The damnable thing nearly made a sieve out of my leg with its drilling.  And to think, I was going to invest in one of them.

Today started off badly.  The group is shaken, it seems, with the events at the Brooding Bantha, and none of us could rest very well, the least of which, Zy, who kept me up insisting our private quarters had been disturbed.  I keep a sharp eye on all of my belongings, so, I initially dismissed these claims, but, Zy has a penchant for being insistant when she gets an idea in that tentacled head of hers.  So, I humored her, and had her go over to Tai, to see if perhaps he could check the security on the locks.

Much to my surprise, Tai confirmed this – while he didn't see any tampering of his belongings, he certainly discovered ones on our maglocks.  As he was investigating, a security droid whizzed by.  It stopped for a few scans of us, standard protocol, and went on its way down a maintainence chute.  After some prodding, Tai told me the details of the break-in, noting that it was barely noticeable.  It was then that I decided the security droid would prove helpful.  I called for it, down the chute, but was quickly hushed by Tai.  Too late.  The droid, manned by an especially bored-looking guard, pestered us for a few minutes before we dismissed it, claiming it was a curiousity of ours to see the droid than anything else.

We roused Wess from his room, and made plans to sleep in my apartment together, rather than in seperate rooms, simply for safety.  We had crossed an especially agressive bounty hunter recently, and, well, no need to get cut down while we tried to rest up for the following day's meeting.  I had a feeling the meeting would put us in plenty of danger by itself.  Wess and Tai rigged an elaborate trap out of one of the spare cots in front of the door, and all of my employees took shifts staying on watch.

The night passed uneventfully.  It was that morning that would hold all the excitement.  When trying to unrig the cot-trap, Tai triggered it, sending the cot flying across the room, AWAY from the door.  The trap would have worked wonders, had our assailants materialized out of think air in our apartment, and then prodded at the precariously balanced cot.

We readied our belongings for the trip, and agreed to take the tram to David's meeting.  Cid's, I believe it was – there was a little confusion there.  At any rate, my trouble with gammoreans continued this day.  While on the tram, en route, a group of gammorean thugs decided to start a brawl.  I can't be certain if they were after us, or not.  Regardless, I threw my weight against one, near a window, but the sheer weight of the thing didn't budge him.  I tried to lie, say it was the shifting of the train, but, he didn't look like he was buying it.

I was tossed out of a moving tram for my troubles.

In a sheer stroke of luck, I landed on a fairly thick pile of insulation for the reconstruction effort, but, landed quite solidly on my comlink, which was in a pocket in my leg.  A quick snapping sound and sudden shooting of pain let me know I had just broken my leg.  And I could only imagine what the others still on the tram were thinking had happened to me.  Fighting through the pain, I quickly found a makeshift crutch, hobbled the nearest terminal, and called for a transport to take me to the meeting (and had him wait, just in case I needed to go to a proper medical facility).

Turned out there was no need.  David's taking care of all that, and my bacta bath awaits.  Zy was releaved, and the mercs seemed indifferent, but, no matter.  Sounds like that bounty hunter has a bounty of his own now.  David wants us to take him in.  If nothing else, some brownie points with the republic for our troubles, provided we can survive the encounter.  I'm not too concerned, so long as he's not employing any more gammoreans.

END LOG.

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