Ludolf Vaas
"Trust me"
Despite the fact that it was his personal diary, General Vaas began every entry the same way. Some habits would never die, especially ones that had been quite literally programmed into his brain.
DATA ENTRY
TIME: 22:32:30
CLASSIFICATION: Commentary
What would have been an otherwise normal day has brought ominous forebodings. I shake to even describe such things here, and as one can see, I am awake far past my usual appointed time for sleep. I should be asleep right now, preparing for tomorrow's dealings, but sleep as yet eludes me. The weight of the matter on my shoulders is keeping me up, and what's worse, I can't escape the feeling of the signals in my mind.
Today started out like any other, and perhaps if I describe the menial tasks of my day, I will become drowsy and sleep will mercifully find me. Kalast and I had a meeting in the morning to discuss the outfitting of Stormtrooper rifles for future campaigns. I discussed the issue of some of the newer Sonn-Blas models not having proper electronics for certain load clips, and the fact that the prototype F-11K rifle needs specially made energy clips could be doing our Troopers a great disservice on the battlefield, where ammunition can run short in prolonged engagements. In my own time in the field, I frequently had to rely upon salvaging energy clips from fallen enemy soldiers. I brought this point up to the Supreme Commander when we were discussing whether or not to commision the F-11K for service.
Yet the worst of it would soon follow. I had to excuse myself from the meeting prematurely, due to feeling it again. The feeling was unmistakable. Encoded signals were being sent to my brain once again via the containment membrane implanted in my head, though the codes were garbled and meaningless. Which can only mean one thing; someone has found my cerebral encoder. If my suspicions are indeed true, then it will be my worst fears come to life. For all these years I wandered the galaxy with this fear omnipresent in the back of my mind, knowing that my past history with the One Sith was never truly and properly erased, and that despite my best efforts, I was never given the time or the opportunity to track down and destroy my encoder. Yet these fears gradually recessed with the passing of time, until now.
I realize I am rambling, but there is little else I can do. Until I find the perpetrator, I am completely at the mercy of whoever possesses the device, and with such gnawing fear I cannot even function properly. I had to feign illness to excuse myself from the meeting with Kalast, and I rushed out of the room so quickly to prevent myself from spasming wildly in his sight that Kalast almost certainly has grown suspicious of me for undue reason. I have spent the rest of the day searching for answers to this horrific turn of events, but so far, nothing I can think of provides a solution. It's even worse knowing that whoever now holds the device could be literally anyone. A lunatic from the One Sith finally exacting his revenge upon me, or a mere child with a shiny new plaything? The situation is maddening.
I have decided to admit defeat. To prevent myself from further madness, I shall immediately take two narc injections.
Until tomorrow.
-END DATA ENTRY-
DATA ENTRY
TIME: 22:32:30
CLASSIFICATION: Commentary
What would have been an otherwise normal day has brought ominous forebodings. I shake to even describe such things here, and as one can see, I am awake far past my usual appointed time for sleep. I should be asleep right now, preparing for tomorrow's dealings, but sleep as yet eludes me. The weight of the matter on my shoulders is keeping me up, and what's worse, I can't escape the feeling of the signals in my mind.
Today started out like any other, and perhaps if I describe the menial tasks of my day, I will become drowsy and sleep will mercifully find me. Kalast and I had a meeting in the morning to discuss the outfitting of Stormtrooper rifles for future campaigns. I discussed the issue of some of the newer Sonn-Blas models not having proper electronics for certain load clips, and the fact that the prototype F-11K rifle needs specially made energy clips could be doing our Troopers a great disservice on the battlefield, where ammunition can run short in prolonged engagements. In my own time in the field, I frequently had to rely upon salvaging energy clips from fallen enemy soldiers. I brought this point up to the Supreme Commander when we were discussing whether or not to commision the F-11K for service.
Yet the worst of it would soon follow. I had to excuse myself from the meeting prematurely, due to feeling it again. The feeling was unmistakable. Encoded signals were being sent to my brain once again via the containment membrane implanted in my head, though the codes were garbled and meaningless. Which can only mean one thing; someone has found my cerebral encoder. If my suspicions are indeed true, then it will be my worst fears come to life. For all these years I wandered the galaxy with this fear omnipresent in the back of my mind, knowing that my past history with the One Sith was never truly and properly erased, and that despite my best efforts, I was never given the time or the opportunity to track down and destroy my encoder. Yet these fears gradually recessed with the passing of time, until now.
I realize I am rambling, but there is little else I can do. Until I find the perpetrator, I am completely at the mercy of whoever possesses the device, and with such gnawing fear I cannot even function properly. I had to feign illness to excuse myself from the meeting with Kalast, and I rushed out of the room so quickly to prevent myself from spasming wildly in his sight that Kalast almost certainly has grown suspicious of me for undue reason. I have spent the rest of the day searching for answers to this horrific turn of events, but so far, nothing I can think of provides a solution. It's even worse knowing that whoever now holds the device could be literally anyone. A lunatic from the One Sith finally exacting his revenge upon me, or a mere child with a shiny new plaything? The situation is maddening.
I have decided to admit defeat. To prevent myself from further madness, I shall immediately take two narc injections.
Until tomorrow.
-END DATA ENTRY-