From the desk of Captain E.M. Greyviper, Ret.
BEGIN AUDIO LOG
The rebels came through with their pilot, a roguish, self-styled “Captain” with a small patrol craft optimized for speed and evasion. Were it only a few years ago, I would be blasting his like into dust to keep the space lanes clear.
To keep that terrible droid, IG-88, secret from the rebels for, at least a little while, we tossed him into a crate as some “equipment” we would be making use of. The Rebels and the Captain didn’t ask any questions, which was probably for the best for everyone’s health.
Once we entered the system, there was a noticeable lack of a Naval fleet presence. Even so, the Captain took no precautions. He brought us in a few kilometers from the base on the surface. We dressed for infiltration, the Captain, myself and Danhanka as stormtroopers and Saffron as Imperial Intelligence. The Verpine and the droid simply played out their proper roles as slave and equipment respectively. Traversing the jungle, we soon found ourselves at the base of a highly-advanced, well-concealed shield. We were able to uncover one of its anchoring emitters and the droid did its duty, shorting itself out against the emitter’s capacitors to clear us a path.
On the outpost’s campus, there was a distinct lack of ground crew, only a handful of AT-PTs patrolling the grounds. At my instruction, we walked with dutiful purpose and made our way to the landing platform and its accompanying lift. In the interior, the non-appearance of base staff of any kind has become rather disturbing. We have released 88 from his confinement and the Captain seems quite unperturbed by his appearance. He actually seems to like the monster. Dreadful. Regardless, we now have a goal set before us. 88 has scanned the interior, found no life forms and managed to calculate a path to the central security room. We will be heading that way shortly…
END AUDIO LOG
BEGIN AUDIO LOG: Captain’s Log, Supplemental
BLOODY HELL! That slicing droid that 88 saddled us with has utterly screwed the womprat. Security…activated. If you find this among the scattered belongings of my dessicated and mangled corpse, know this: Never trust a droid to do a man’s job.
Wookie mercenary, whereever you are, I apologize for everything I said. I should’ve saved all those insults for every last droid in this wretched galaxy.
END AUDIO LOG