Damn damn damn!
All that work for nothing – worse than nothing! I should have shot that damn drall in the bar and run away from this mess. I can’t even begin to understand why I was even dragged along for the heist itself, or why I went along with it, given my age. Damned youthful enthusiasm, I’m too old for this crap, I should have learned better in the Clone Wars. And since I might as well be as dead as the Seperatists, I guess I can finally write openly about encountering a gods-of-every-planet forsaken Jedi. If the whole damn mess wasn’t bad already with a damn raiding party coming down on the gem from the other side, the damn Jedi was the only thing that made sense considering the rock itself was labelled “Sith Artifact” from the damn beginning! From every story I remember about Dooku, we’d probably have been better off without the damn thing! Not that things can get much worse. I’m marooned on this uncomfortable brick called the Spry Nomad, until I can figure out what to do with myself. At the very least I was able to wire the remainder of my debt to the damn Hutt before he got wind of the bounty on me. I swear his jowls will be the last thing I miss seeing even in hologram. That leaves me with just over 50,000 credits and nowhere civilized to go back to.
I’ve been reviewing the footage from the Imperial transmission on Bespin. The bothan girl they showed, Sei, she’s the one I picked up on Coruscant years ago. I’m afraid I might have been a little bit ABSOLUTELY LIVID when I politely sent her a message to forget about the favor she owed me and stay the hell away from my life. Now that that’s one potential source of trouble down, I just have to find a nice place out of Imperial reach to settle down for the long haul… Maybe those Talusians – and yes I’m naming that race after me – could still use a trickster god.