Journal: The Quarantine Zone

How I get myself involved in these messes, I’ll never be able to explain. But I suppose that’s the price you pay when you’ve proven to be reliable and effective.

With the promise of some official commendation from Mon Mothma (note that I am currently not holding my breath), I’m well on my way trying to fight the latest Imperial screw up.

Somehow the Alliance even roped Han Solo in on this. Last I heard, talk amongst the pilots out on Corellia had Solo heading back to Jabba to pay off some debt that he owes the big slug. And trust me, I can completely understand that.

Trust me when I say, it’s far worse then can be imagined. The Imperials have the dead rising to feast upon the living. Yeah, you heard that right.

I set to work straight away, with only one of my trusted soldiers in tow. Some survivors established a Camp Alpha (apparently there are more camps) where I aided in thwarting an attack from the undead. These creatures… and yeah, that’s just what they are now… are relentless, and quite hungry.

There’s more to be done. Lots more. But I’ve given a task to myself: gather some of the decayed gear and armor to disguise myself in. The way I figure… the less alive I look, the less appetizing. If you don’t hear from me again, you can just go ahead and assume that you’ll need a better plan if you’re foolish enough to follow.

Vincer's Journal: Infestation

Some time ago, I made an alliance with the leader of the hidden, underground village in the Myyydril caverns, and specifically earned the trust and favor of their leader Chief Kallaarac. My mission of tracking down the forged credits, led me to the Kashyyyk system so I decided to visit my friend to exchange information.

The Chief was distraught at a recent turn of events. The dangerous urnsor'i beetles had multiplied in number and were threatening to overtake their peaceful way of life. Without even thinking twice - something I came to regret - I volunteered to stop the beetle's advance.

Little did I realize how complete their migration was. Already they were laying eggs in the caverns that lay just across the bridge from the village. Unprepared for their - shall we say - motherly instincts to protect their young, I was overwhelmed and forced to retreat.

The chief's concern and alarm were clarified.

I enlisted the help of a medic from Tatooine, an old friend of my daughters. If sheer firepower would not be sufficient, perhaps her use of poisons as well as her timely application of bacta kits could be enough to stop the infestation.

The Chief was delighted to learn that this line of thinking was correct. Working closely with the Wookiee leader, we thinned the beetle's numbers, destroyed a good portion of their eggs, and even located and destroyed their Queen. And I would be remiss if I didn't mention the resources we took from their carcasses; especially the purple cut gemstones that infrequently could be found.

With the village saved, we both made use of the Mystical Stone to find our way back out of the caverns, and not empty handed at all. As it turns out, beetle parts sell for a pretty credit at the Wookiee Trading Company.

But the gems? We kept those for ourselves.

(OOC) Perhaps you would like a chance to relive this adventure, recommended for a group of level 75s.

Vincer's Journal: Tracking Contraband

Following reports from Alliance High Command of counterfeit credits, I took it upon myself to see if I couldn't locate how they're being distributed around the galaxy.

Naturally, the Alliance gets involved in some - shall we say - shadier dealings that may or may not make use of such fake currencies, but if the trafficking of such forgeries are not carefully regulated, potential holes in Alliance security appear.

I began on Naboo, just outside Deeja Peak. A band of pirates had set up an encampment nearby. These pirates are amateur at best, with no real chain of command nor skills to speak of. And while I may yet be completing my training for the Rebels, I had no trouble infiltrating and locating some of the information I needed.

I was also quite shocked to find that these pirates were also transporting foodstuffs from the Outer Rim, fruit that has been tagged as forbidden; and yes, there's probably a joke in there somewhere, but I'm too wrapped in the mission to make one now.

All Rebel agents are advised to continue tracking down these pirates and any they may have associated with. Orders are to contain these falsified credits before the Alliance's involvement is compromised.

Happy Life Day!

It is that time of year again to celebrate Life Day. Despite the Empire's best efforts at containing this traditional Wookiee holiday, citizens of the galaxy - including those at Oracle Base - managed to gear up and head out to spread the holiday cheer.



Vincer and Cyra pose before one of the many Life Day trees that have been decorated for the children. With Imperials about, Vincer takes nothing for granted and keeps his rifle ready. Life Day is a time for all life, including Sox and Amber.

Garova hangs his Holiday Poster in his office, which usually houses many Wookiee keepsakes. Garova is a deeply sentimental Wookiee and knows full well the joy of having a family, both actual and extended.

Not everyone loves Life Day, it would seem. The grumpy Loh'khar helped his servant Cor'qi decorate for Life Day, but only because he was promised gifts afterwards. Cor'qi did not disappoint; Loh'khar loved his Holo Entertainment Table. Cor'qi was delighted to not receive the lump of coal that Loh'khar threatened her with all year.

Garova poses with Murdok in front of a Life Day Tree that he decorated. The children of Doaba Guerfel were overcome with joy to meet Garova and his young pet. Though most of the children couldn't understand Garova's Wookiee-speak, they still listened with great interest as he told the traditional tales before handing out gifts.

No celebration is complete without fireworks. Before the squad from Oracle Base stole away to return to their hidden headquarters, they launched fireworks into the snow-filled sky.

Life Day was another tremendous success, and not even the opressive Empire could ruin the festitivies. Happy Life Day!

Vincer's Journal: Echo Base Under Attack

I received a distressing communication today while at Oracle Base. I intercepted an encoded message that I set my protocol droid HR2-SRV to deciphering straight away.

After many stressful minutes, the silver-plated droid reported that the message came from the main Alliance base on Hoth, codenamed Echo Base. The Empire managed to locate the headquarters after distributing probe droids around the galaxy.

The bases general was able to put up a planetary shield and intends to use the ion cannon to cover the retreat, but the Imperials have implemented a ground assault that will press the base on two fronts.

It could be a dark day for the Alliance if the Rebels are defeated at Hoth. I am forwarding a new encoded message to all neighboring Rebel cells in an effort to organize relief efforts. I should also stress to any Rebels who will receive this message to avoid the Hoth system at all costs, as it's crawling with Imperials; even if the fleet there is led by the clumsy Admiral Ozzel.

Vincer's Journal: The Hunt for the King

My hunt for the elusive Gurk King continues. The Gurks have a relatively complex class structure, with a King that all others look to for guidance and protection. The King is generally much taller and more imposing then the standard Gurk. But what I have come to find is that there is more then one!

At any given time, there are no less then two Gurk Kings moving around on the surface of Lok. They tend to be along the equatorial region of Lok, north of the volcano, but rather far from Nym's settlement. They surround themselves with at least four standard Gurks and either live at a primitive hut or at the ruins from another civilization.

I also suspect that there may still be only one Gurk King, and that the others are simply decoys. Truly remarkable, if this is the case. I shall continue to hunt and study these creatures; all in the name of science of course!

A Lost City

It had been too long ago to even recall the time. I was on Naboo with a few frequent allies, doing who knows what. I had been practicing training a native creature there called a peko peko during some downtime. I had recently discovered a love for creatures. Not just admiring them, but training them, raising them. Scruffy was a good companion pet, but I had been looking for something that could hunt with me; protect me and the ones I love.

It was then I spotted a lonely female plains tusk cat kitten taking cover beneath the shade of a tree. Her mother was no where to be found, perhaps having fell victim to a hunter or an even larger, hungrier predator. I let the peko peko wander off and turned hopeful eyes toward the tiny cat.

Her eyes were already turned toward me in this first moment of a relationship that had nothing to do with owner and pet, but two friends that could not, and should not, be separated. I named her Amber for her eyes were that color.

As I went, so too did Amber. She was the best friend anyone could hope for.

And now, thanks to the bio-engineering of Cyra, the old girl has been given new life and new strength. An agreeable, eager huntress, Amber took quickly to her new strength and skills imparted upon her through an expensive and effective incubation process that literally reformed her at the lowest genetic level. You'll recall I refer to this as Mad Science.

Amber and I set out on another adventure, allowing our whims to take us where they may. And where they took us was more amazing then anything we could have imagined.

The planet was Talus, one of the planets in the Corellian system. We were following sludge panther trackings when we came upon a small town.

"It's not on the chart", I said, not expecting Amber to understand as she lay curled in the passenger seat of my flash speeder. She inclined her head and then sat upright, sniffing the warm air.

A click of a button and the terrain map click-hissed shut. I disengaged the speeder and reached behind the seat for my Coynite Disruptor. It was charged.

"C'mon girl. Let's go. Something's not right."

It wasn't the fact that it wasn't on the map as much as it was that it was dark and quiet. The sun was well into it's setting cycle and not a single light had come on in the town. Amber padded next to me, making not even the slightest sound. Such a good girl.

The sludge panther tracks were still here, fresher then before. I knelt down to take a closer look; to see if another trail could be found.

It happened suddenly. We were swarmed. Sludge panthers flanked us, surrounded us. Amber leapt to the defense while I broke open a toxic gas pack. The Coynite Disruptor spat it's golden blasts, knocking a panther back and to it's side. Amber locked jaws with another. I jammed a pet stim into her hind quarters, lighting her up with enough adrenaline to down her opponent.

We were taken by suprise, but fought our way to safety and were fortunate to have all our parts with us.

Scratch that. My holo-camera was crunched.

"Cyra will never believe us now, Amber." She seemed to grin. "Now then, where did they come from. There's no cover here besides..."

The town itself. I snuck in for a closer look, giving Amber the hand gesture for her to stay back. Peeking around one of the larger buildings and staying downwind, I looked through to the center of the town. And my suspicions were confirmed.

The town had been overrun by sludge panthers, some of them twice the size of any I had ever heard about. If there were three, there were thirty. I marvelled at how easily they were able to flank not only me, but Amber too.

Where are the people that lived here? Did the panthers kill them? Not likely. Not all of them.

We did not come all that way to come home without a proper tale to tell and something to show for it. I motioned for Amber to come closer and we watched and studied, and watched more. They were amazing creatures, natural hunters.

"You're going to do that, Amber. I'm going to teach you how to flank like that. What do you say, girl?" I kept quiet and hidden as I studied. Amber gnawed on some meat snacks as her best friend kept watch through the night, making notes in a datapad.

We made it as far as the starport when the night was through. Both Amber and I were exhausted from our ordeal. We curled together on an Arrival Area couch and drifted off. Amber had learned her new skills, and I had a mysterious city that I dreamt of. Will I ever know what happened there?

I thought of the city and panthers as we fished the next day. Amber stayed with me the entire time, not complaining or fidgeting once.

It's what makes her such a good friend. We can have the wildest adventures in mysterious cities as easily as we can have a lazy fishing trip.

It is the company you keep, they say.

Walking Tour: Oracle Base Animal Nursery

Oracle Base's Animal Nursery is located on the outskirts of the base, so as to keep it away from the hustle and bustle of the main structures. A small garden is just next door. The inset pictures show some of the advanced equipment that Dr. Cyra Sedaris uses to reprocess creature enzymes for use in the incubator.



Inside, the nursery has all the necessary creature comforts, including food, colorful posters on the wall, a bookshelf with the full collection of "How To's" and pet owner manuals, stuffed toys (a dewback is pictured), as well as an "Oopsie Rug" - a woven piece of fabric with the Imperial emblem stitched in. The baby pets use this until they are completely housebroken.


Adjoining the playroom is the lab proper. Rather small, it still contains all the required tools and equipment of the bio-engineering trade. Four large containers hold the raw enzymes and DNA, while two smaller chests (not pictured) afford scientists a place to keep the processed enzymes safe and at a regulated temperature until needed in an incubation cycle.


The incubator is a marvel of modern science. Numerous starship engineers - some of the most brilliant minds in the galaxy - were tapped to design the schematics that are widely used to create the Incubator. From the controls in the front, a scientist can add the correct enzymes, alter the temperature and manipulate the egg in the center tube during the several-day process. The incubator above shows a plains tusk cat nearing the final stages.


All of the science in the galaxy means nothing without scientists to tend to it. At Oracle Base, Cyra Sedaris acts as the Chief Scientist, bringing her extensive bio-engineering skills with her. Here, we see Cyra manipulating the temperature gauge for a durni in it's last incubation cycle. I keep a safe distance back, lest I be a distraction.

I hope you've enjoyed this edition of The Walking Tour.

Our Mission, Should We Choose to Accept

Not every day at Oracle Base is fun and leisurely, and today was one of those days. From the Tactical Center, the base received encrypted orders to have a team of specialists report to the hidden Rebel Base on Corellia and await further instructions from a protocol droid named C3PO.

I enlisted the services of the Twi'lek entertainer, Cor'qi. Calling her an entertainer belies her true talents of graceful hand-to-hand combat. She is, in fact, in the service of an acquisition specialist by the name of Loh'khar, but what he did not know of Cor'qi's dealings today would certainly not hurt him.

The trip to Corellia was faster then usual, with the Y-Wing "ugly" making good time. The Rebel Base is secluded in the mountains to the northwest of the main Corellian continent, reachable only via ground or hover vehicles. Cor'qi and I chose to travel together in one speeder, reasoning that while it is dangerous to be in one vehicle, it is far more dangerous for a team of two to be divided.

The base was as I remembered it, having visited it numerous times in the past for missions. C3PO turned out to be a brilliant gold-plated protocol droid in the main chamber of the base; in fact, I recall working with him before.

While he processed our main orders, which would take us to a far distant world, the Rebellion needed much closer, and far less glamorous tasks to be done. After delivering medical supplies to the perimeter outposts of the base, "Threepio" gave us our real mission parameters.

As it turns out, a Rebel Spy had been captured by the Empire while operating out of Naboo. His whereabouts were not yet known, but it was paramount that we recover his contact list to avoid further implications.

This mean an infiltration mission into an Imperial Base on Naboo. Perhaps a larger team would have been better, but we're Rebels - and we'll work with what we have.

The Imperials had superior numbers and firepower, but after the first few "feeling out" salvos we sent at the base, our strategy was set. My training as a SpecForce Infiltrator was well-suited to pave the way for the both of us, straight past the defenses and to the storage chamber at the bottom where we found and extracted the spy's contact list.

The problem now was, getting out. Imperial defenses finally spotted us on their sensors and a detachment of Stormtroopers swarmed the lower levels. We were pinned down and too deep to radio for any assistance, even if it was available.

I don't know how things would have turned out without Cor'qi. She launched herself into the fray, allowing me a moment to throw down capsules of venomous gas, then a smoke grenade to cover my escape, clutching the spy's contact list close to the chest.

Moments later, we burst forth from the base, back to ground level and into the grassy fields of Naboo. Our flash speeder had been camoflaged beyond a few hills, and with blaster bolts splitting trees and digging holes in the ground at our feet, we leapt in, triggered the accelerator and shot away to safety. Mission complete.

The return trip to the Rebel Base was quiet, as Cor'qi and I were quite tired from the ordeal. Threepio accepted and logged the contact list into the computer and rewarded us each with a piece of some experimental body armor that Alliance scientists were working on.

Great. Just what I need. More mad science.

Mad Scientist!

I'm not quite certain how the wanton slaughter of dozens of the galaxy's creatures will benefit the science of bio-engineering, but Cyra has given a task to do.

We awoke that morning to the sounds of a violent sandstorm. Scruffy wasn't as shaken as I thought me might be. His species is one from a planet where there isn't enough sand to fill one of those archaic chronometers you'll find in the junk shops of Tatooine.

While the little fellow hopped about the nursery, and "did his business" on that old Imperial rug I found in a trash compactor, I double checked my gear for the day.

Enzyme extractors are syringe-like devices. If you think that isn't imposing enough, it is the weaponsmiths of the galaxy who have perfected their design; yes, the same crafters that are responsible for the DL-44 of BlasTech, and those Coynite Disruptor Rifles that fires globules of acid, no less. Science indeed, these extractors! Let us not forget to mention that the top models can run into the millions of credits!

Too dangerous for Scruffy, I filled his food distributor, checked the mini-vaporator and gave him a pat on the head. Cyra was still asleep, so I gave her a loving peck on the cheek, and then had a read-through of the local terminals that tracks creature movements across the planet.

Now do not think me a pacifist. (If I need to convince you further, I'll show you my own Coynite Disruptor Rifle. I've the matching pistol to complete the set.) It is just that I'll never understand why bio-engineering has not yet come up with a less invasive way to sample enzymes from animals. Must we kill the poor beasts in order to help them survive?

Snorbals and Gurks were running high in population numbers. If their herds weren't culled, then they'd die of starvation or thirst. I'll keep telling myself this. They were easy enough to find, with my datapad able to triangulate their exact position as I neared.

I'll spare you the gruesome details. Suffice it to say that my brief military training and superior firepower (compared to their having neither of either!) was enough to collect the required enzymes. I'm not so convinced that the money spent on those enzyme extractors were quite worth it. I've used inferior models and produced similar results. Someone is getting rich off of this for no good reason.

Before nightfall and any follow-up sandstorms, I returned to Oracle Base and stowed away the various enzymes in their proper cabinets in the back of the Nursery. That should hold Cyra for a day or so.

Perhaps next time I'll provide you a walking tour of her Mad Scientist's Laboratory!

Return of the Scruffy

He commanded immediate attention and respect, even moments free of the protective egg. Cyra Sedaris, more then a girlfriend and every bit the bio-engineer, had kept a watchful eye over his development for a full three days. The buttons and dials on the incubator's front panel were manipulated with expertise and experience; the temperature adjusted as needed and the proper, refined enzymes added to the process.

So there he stood, on the sandy lawn before the Animal Nursery on the main stretch, every bit as adorable as he was when he last roamed the roads of Laurus, Corellia, but stronger for being away for such a time. The little durni responded immediately to his name: Scruffy.

Though not much higher then an ankle, he took to playing straight away, enjoying his tricks and surely life itself. I lay on the sand in front of him, capturing the happy moment in a holo. Scruffy had come home at last.

The grey-furred durni is not one to complain, but I knew he must be hungry for solid foods, having persisted on the liquid diet afforded by the incubation process. A proud and excited pet owner I may be, but I am no novice you should know. Breakfast would come later, for now it was time for action.

So as not to overwhelm the little fellow (were that possible), we stole away to the outskirts of Mos Eisley to do the locals a service and rid the region of the pests and vermin. Scruffy, to my delight, put his large back legs to good use and ran down a worrt before turning on a womp rat. I was careful to not let him bite off any of their foul meat. The hunt was on, with a few unsavory swoopers getting caught in the "Scruffy crossfire", too!

I was about to bring us back to the city proper, my legs aching from all the action, when Scruffy pushed up against my leg and leaned there; his personal way of telling me that he was hungry. Perhaps it was my own weariness speaking, but breakfast and a cushion sounded just the thing.

The suns were both up now; there would be no time to be picky. Any food would do. I purchased some fruits imported from the Corellian Riverlands and held a piece out to Scruffy. He crinkled his nose a moment before accepting the meal. Hunger trumps taste buds, I suppose. Both he and I were happy as could be, united again at last.

The heat intensified, and while the locals did not seem to mind much, Scruffy's fur was scorching to the touch. Mos Eisley may offer many things, but there is only one structure that can give me both shade and a stiff drink.

It was a light crowd this early, or maybe it's normal as I don't often come to the Mos Eisley cantina these days. Scruffy and I passed a dancer in the main foyer and continued further in where the cooling vents could be better appreciated. I did not yet realize the error I had made.

I randomly selected a dancer to watch (which just as luck would have it was my favorite colored variety of female twi'lek entertainer, even dressed to my liking! Imagine!) and prepared to settle in next to the cute little durni, who was already getting looks of adoration from the other patrons. I no sooner felt the heat of the outside retreat from my skin when Scruffy's hackles went on end and his posture turned as threatening as he could muster it. With his long ears flattened back against his head, he made to snap at the leg of the dancer. The cantina was cold, but Scruffy was hot with rage!

I pulled the little, rumbling warrior up from the stone floor and whisked him away to the outside and straight for the starport that berthed my modified Y-Wing "ugly". Scruffy's growls subsided, but he was visibly annoyed from the experience. Not to worry. As I said, I am experienced animal trainer and knew just what to do to soothe the savage beast. I put in a comlink call to Oracle Base and asked for Ly'ssa, who had some skill with preparing some of the best and most exotic food you ever want.

Ly'ssa was happy to oblige, I was pleased to find. In fact, she had already collected many raw ingredients in anticipation. By the time we entered the Lok orbit, she had already completed a full snack tray. Scruffy picked his way through sample after sample, never openly rejecting the tastes before him, but never allowing his demeanor to waver from persistent annoyance. Scruffy really did not like being near dancers!

Finally, the finicky furball found a meaty meal that he liked. His hind quarters lowered and his posture relaxed; his ears flopped to the floor on either side of his face as he delicately tore off strips of meat and chewed them until it was gone. Animal handling is not hyperdrive science; don't allow me to ever claim otherwise, thank you very much.

I stashed the rejected food in a cabinet in the local Watering Hole and decided that Scruffy had enough excitement for the day. We toiled around on the streets and eventually found our way back to the nursery where the little lad curled by my feet and rested. He was happy once more, and so was I because of that.

Yes, Scruffy had come home. It was as if he never left.