We have found a respite here, on a classified asteroid belt, in the middle of nowhere. Compatriot has made me feel somewhat at home – we talked late tonight, since I needed to process what we just lost. She tried to encourage me, and emphasized the need to look ahead, but that is rather difficult right now. Perhaps if I process the day I will be able to fall asleep!

The morning was nice enough, and I made some caf and went to the comms room in the medbay to journal. As I was finishing up, I received a call from Compatriot about our freighter ticket out of here as I was finishing up (what kind of name is “It's a Trap!”? Awkward…) but nothing seemed particularly urgent or rushed regarding the escape.

As that conversation finished, I noticed movement at the door. Damaria was obviously hunting for caf, so I pointed out the steaming fresh pot I had brewed. Even with rings under her eyes from lack of sleep, she looked good, and I was a bit tongue-tied (I shall blame that on trying to recover from the last few days).

We had a stilted, awkward conversation about our relationship, our future. I had my little speech prepared in my head but my delivery was off – I think my resignation was showing through my intended veneer of selfless patient pragmatism. I had really hoped she would say, “Damn the future, I want you now,” but I know her too well. Who knows; it is possible that our feelings are just a byproduct of shared traumatic experiences. If I was to remain a Peer in the Assembly, though, she would have made a great Baroness.

Our conversation didn't last too long, however, before we both were shaken by something – it was like waves of tragedy washing over us through the Force. We found out afterwards at the Comm Base that the Empire destroyed, of all places, Alderaan. When we talked about it, it sounded like Sprend had also felt something that night – perhaps he has some sensitivities as well! The official spin has not been published on the holonet yet, but Compatriot said that the Alliance had a mole planted on their Superweapon who managed to get a brief message out. Compatriot called it the Death Star.

As we were recovering from the shock, Tor dashed in, frantic. He was holding a datapad, and wanted to know if he should try accessing it. It turns out Via is actually alive, and from the sounds of things, she was never captured by Agent 63 at all, but went into deep cover. I suppose we owe her – she also insinuated that she took care of the guards as we exited Imperial HQ, and her stormtrooper captain contact pulled out the squads from Madar at the cantina, leaving him alone for us. I am not sure what she meant by not wanting me to know she was alive – judging from our last conversation I suppose she feels bad about the way she was harassing me. Not that I entirely minded her attentions, but, well, it made everything complicated.

In any case, the most important message she had for Tor was that we needed to leave ASAP, since the Empire just decided to blockade the entire planet, with Star Destroyers on the way. We decided to wake everyone to evacuate, and in the process discovered Dash was drugged out on some kind of sleeping pill, and Sprend was also not feeling well for different reasons. I am not sure if he was sleep walking, or if the Dark side of the Force was just incredibly strong last night, but somehow he killed 63. He had no pulse, and was lying on the floor with the imprint of his gun on his forehead. Jumper confessed to falling asleep, and had seen Sprend leaving 63's “cell.”

I tried to keep my cool, but this is just another instance of a team member killing an important prisoner we could have interrogated. I feel badly for Sprend, too, because I know that he wanted 63 to pay for his crimes; though perhaps this worked out for the best – I worried that Sprend might resort to torture, and that could have long-term consequences for his psyche, especially if he grows in the Force.

After this was sorted out, we decided to get to the spaceport quickly. Dash said goodbye to his custom speeder (I wonder if he ever named it?), and we took the vibrovan through the city. Dash drove well, and we managed to avoid any roadblocks or checkpoints. From the sheer number of stormtroopers on patrol, though, we knew that martial law was definitely in effect.

At spaceport's security, we ran into a bit of a problem – no forged papers, and I knew there was a bounty on all of our heads. And I'm way too recognizable. We were wearing our disguises – I switched into my officer uniform, Damaria was wearing her snappy outfit, and Sprend had his stormtrooper armor on (though it looked a little scuffed). Dash was our prisoner – a nice story. Except for the vibrovan – definitely not a standard issue Imperial troop transport. I ended up having to Influence the guard, and it seemed to work, at least momentarily.

Unfortunately, 2 Star Destroyers showed up in orbit as we passed through; thankfully we quickly spotted “It's a Trap!”, and loaded our gear onto the ship. It was being guarded by one of the crew, a gotal named Cheech. He seemed like a nice guy, very laid back. Apparently his laissez-faire attitude also extended to maintenance – the ship was a mess. He wanted to wait for the others, who were out drinking or bartering or something, and were due back in a few hours. As I started to negotiate with him, Sprend expediently whacked him on the head. Damaria and I made sure we dragged Cheech along with us – we knew that if he was arrested, he would be tortured for information at the very least.

And it was a good thing we did – as we were taking off, I felt a dark presence. The Inquisitor clearly survived the duel with Master Xenrad, and had several squads of troopers with him. As Sprend started firing the turret towards that threat, I discovered several TIE Bombers on the radar; I did my best to direct those on the weapon systems, and I felt Damaria's mind coordinating us through the Force. It was incredible – and it looked like we'd escape easily, when I realized our hyperdrive was offline!

I called out to Tor, and we raced to the back while the others began shooting down incoming warheads – waves and waves of them. Tor started pulling things apart and grabbing scrap elements from around the room, and somehow he jury-rigged it – just in time. We yelled through the comms to Dash that it was ready, and despite sparks and the smell of burning wire, The Trap jumped mere seconds before the remaining missiles detonated.

After that harrowing experience, we settled in for a short ride to the coordinates we received from Compatriot – the communications base that she is stationed at. It was thankfully uneventful, and when we arrived Compatriot fed us well, and she mentioned the Alliance was providing us with access to a specialized mechanic droid – Huyang-2. He seemed very energetic – I wondered if his processor was overclocked. He was terribly excited about my lightsaber, and started exclaiming about the style and pointed out several ways I could alter the hilt to increase its power and balance. He claimed to have documented every lightsaber constructed by the Jedi since the dawn of the Old Republic, but his databanks were corrupted. Compatriot mentioned that his processor was a backup of an old Jedi droid the Alliance had discovered, but she would not speak more about it – classified, apparently, and I suspect she does not even know more about it.

Tomorrow we are scheduled for a new briefing regarding Arda I – our first real off-planet assignment from the Alliance. Apparently our experiences on Bin Prime will come in handy, and I have a feeling the Alliance is a bit short on experienced agents right now. I am excited, but I cannot stop thinking about Balmorra, and wonder what it will be like when we return - assuming we can.