(Screen flickers on with Jarric leaning back in the captain's chair, pondering quietly.)

Going out on a job soon. Some kind of salvage run to a derelict pleasure barge that broke down on the outskirts of the system. Seems simple enough- though I'm glad they're sending me some additional hands. Nothing quite so boring as a big dead spaceship just floating there, and me having to drag whatever components we're picking up all the way back here by my lonesome. After all, if I have to break my back to get paid, someone else ought to as well.

The droid they have giving out the contracts... Janice, I think they call her. It. Whatever. I've decided I seriously just don't like her. It's not the sassy attitude or that strangely appealing feminine tone... it's the eyes. Beady little points of light just piercing down into your soul. Of course a droid can't give you a 'look', but that's part of the problem. A droid shouldn't be able to feel hate either, but every time I speak to that thing I get the unshakeable feeling that she just straight hates organics right down to her core.

Ah, but I guess it's not a big deal. It's not like the thing has a personal grudge against me. I just show up, get my job, and stay out of the way of anyone higher up on the payroll. It's not like it was before. Not so much responsibility and pressure to look out for others... I like it. It's nice not to have to keep people at arms length when they're all trying to get closer to you. I don't mind having friends or anything... but this is business. Getting too close just complicates things, and I've had just about enough of those thanks.

Think I'll get some sleep now. Maybe I'll head to Pete's later, get a drink or two.

(Jarric leans forward to flick off the camera. As he does so the screen flickers and a woman's face stands over the back of the chair, smiling sadly, then the image flickers again and the feed shuts off.

Jarric appears in the captains chair. The image comes in clear, as if this were a more recent entry.

Figures, I'd end up back in Hutt space. So far no one's tried to collect on me, and I'm hoping to leave well enough alone while I'm out here. Finally got my leg fixed up- the cybernetics and neuro-wiring was melted and partially fried from my little tumble down near the lava pit on Ord Mantell. I still say that counts as hazard pay, but Jeos seemed to think otherwise. What good is hazard pay if it doesn't cover volcanoes?

At any rate, the Doc (guy by the name of Ubbit, real stand up Zabrak) got me patched up, and now I'm short 4,000 creds, but I guess it was probably worth it. Asked me to drop him off on Nar Shadda. Of course, I couldn't very well leave port without picking up some paying work- quick jump over to Quesh to drop off some organic goods for the workers in the mines. Whole cargo hold smells like an orchard.

I ran into one of the Myrunjis a few weeks ago... it was strange seeing Spenta without having to salute or wait for orders. So far I've kept my new 'business' partners and my old military life entirely separate. I think that's for the best... leave the past in the past, and keep my eyes fixed on the future. Still, I know if they asked I'd probably find a way to help out... how could I not? I know I don't owe the Republic any loyalties after what happened, but can anyone really forget about people who were like family? Just hope if and when they need me, it doesn't conflict with CTE's interests...

That's gonna be an exciting day indeed.

Jarric leans back, taking a deep breath and reaching over to drink something from a filled glass.

Guess I need to get back to that contractor on Ryloth. Tyron's probably right... there are some lines a man just shouldn't cross. The money's right, but I don't think I could drink away that kind of guilt. I thought I'd killed my conscience when I was screaming for her to stop cutting away my organs. Guess some things don't die quite so easy.