Knights of the New Republic

Session 8: The Journals of Irsin Rashos

From the private Journals of Irsin Rashos
h3. 08:01:123 ABY; Late evening aboard Doone’s ship

Image of Irsin typing furiously with exposed circuit boards scattered about him as he is clearly attempting to jury-rig something delicate


cursed bantha-eaten —


show YOU who —






Clearly not going to get anywhere with this tonight.

So here I am cooped up on Doone’s ship, failing spectacularly to accomplish anything useful in terms of bypassing the security he’s laid around his information archives. You’d think he thought the great Emperor of the Sith from legends past was after his data! At least I managed to avoid tripping the failsafes which would wipe the data crystals. I’ll try again another day….once I’ve had a few drinks…

The past couple of days have been more of the same unfortunately, ever since Q’ayla and Q’aleane took that padawan back to the Academy to face whatever judgement she may…

I almost feel bad for the young padawan. I really do. It’s easy to ridicule the insanity of the pious lives that the Jedi force their members to lead. It’s another thing to watch the harm it causes to those around them when they clash with those bonds. If possible though Q’ayla was more upset about the Padawan’s situation than the girl herself was. I wish I understood why it bothered her so…

For that girl getting out of the so-called Promised Land was a very mixed blessing. She survived her brush with the mindless murdering beasts after Q’aleane administered the cure. While she recovered Q’alya and I managed to convince Q’aleane to get some rest, as she was in much worse shape than her sister between the lack of sleep and the…whatever she did to screw with both their heads. She said she attempted to use Q’alya’s mind to leverage her bond with the Grey Holocron in order to locate Bastila’s, and that’s what caused the…feedback loop of sorts. I didn’t realize their bond had become so intense…something to remember in the future I suppose.

Once Q’aleane was finally sleeping, Q’ayla and I let the droid back in and left him to watch the girl recover. We spent the time outside sparring and chatting a bit. It was good exercise and good practice. Q’ayla is simply stunning with a lightsaber. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so good at it. I could keep up with her for a time of course, but during our first session at least it was clear I was either not on my game, or she was simply a league better than I am.

While we sparred and in between bouts, Q’aleane asked me innocuous questions until we lit upon the bounty hunters on Taris again. I swear I almost felt my stomach lurch at the question and almost didn’t recover in time to hide my reaction from her force senses. Just when I was beginning to let me guard down…I should know better. She asked if I’d heard the names of the two bounty hunters while moving around the planets underbelly. I told her I had, and gave their names freely enough. I wanted to mix enough truth in it that it would make the lie easier.

Her back stiffened as soon as I mentioned Trasa’s name. I could see real fear there…not just concern or worry, but the kind of terror borne from a true fight or flight reaction. I think at that moment I knew what had happened between Q’ayla and Trasa, having see how Trasa operated, but soon Q’ayla was talking, and I barely had to prod her to keep going.

She told me how she had been on Ansion, on a diplomatic mission. She’d run afoul of the two bounty hunters in the middle of a terrorist attack, and they’d assumed she was in league with a local Imperial Knight with delusions of grandeur. From her description Galen Karrde was a wash-out. A worm of a man who remembered hearing stories of how his family used to be somebody when Palpatine was in charge…and given that all the other people who had any real power had already made their play and failed, why not him? People like that made me sick. Only having the courage to seek power when those who already had it were gone…sniveling bottom feeders I say.

But that was besides the point. Trasa had some form of artifact that made her invisible to the Force and so was able to sneak up on Q’ayla who didn’t even have the benefit of mundane sight to protect herself. I filed that knowledge away immediately…the more I heard the more I was sure that the next time Trasa and I met we wouldn’t be friends. Not unless the Ren sisters and I had parted ways, and that was seeming less and less likely. Q’ayla sometimes seemed to want Grale dead as much as I did, though I couldn’t fathom what she had in particular against him.

Q’ayla had then been tortured. Extensively, and for weeks on end. Desvin had apparently not always been a hollow eyed robot, and had been Trasa’s lover once, reveling in her sadistic delights almost as much as she. I was surprised to discover that my discomfort at hearing Trasa’s exploits had less and less to do with my own fear of discovery, and more to do with a growing part of me that wished to visit upon Trasa some of the horror she had given to Q’ayla. I started when I realized this. what business of it is mine? And yet my anger continued to simmer if softly, almost wishing Trasa was there to vent it.

Q’ayla finished her story, clearly still shaken in the retelling. There were scars there, the sort that were beneath the skin. I had an urge to offer some kind of comfort to her…but all I said was that I was sorry. She responded “I’m just glad you didn’t run into them.”

I kept my mouth shut.

Once Alema began to show definitive signs of recovery, and Q’aleane had gotten some rest, We turned our attention to escaping the place. I had spent some time circuiting the cavern, finding no obvious (or unobvious) escape routes. My initial and overly simple idea was all I still had, which was simply “why don’t we have another droid come down and open the door for us?” Q’ayla blinked when I suggested it, and Q’aleane said we should ask Bastilla how she got out. We did, and it confirmed that without Q’aleane’s ability she’d had to wait for a life form to come close enough to the door that she could dominate their mind and open the door from the outside. That confirmed that there would be no obstacle to our leaving.

I spent the time while we waited for our Droid friend to come fixing up whatever machinery or equipment I could find that needed some attention. It seemed they were short handed when it came to that sort of work, and something about it just felt right, though in retrospect I can’t tell you what it was. I also sparred with Q’ayla again, this time managing to actually defeat her, though even at my best it was a near thing.

When we finally escaped, the girl almost seemed fully human again. Now she just had to face the Jedi’s vaunted justice. I did not envy her.

I left the Ren sisters to pilot my nearly stripped bare speeder back to Doone’s ship. We convened briefly to speak with Bastilla and hear her story. It was an interesting one. One that I will not retell here, but needless to say I find it remarkable to be able to speak so seamlessly with the woman who so long ago captured the heart of the almost mythic figure of Darth Revan.

And since then I’ve been spending my time here…trying to overcome Doone’s security. Again. Well perhaps I’ll beat him yet. After a few drinks.



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