A read-only archive of discourse.darkjedibrotherhood.com as of Sunday May 01, 2022.

[Caelus Chronicles] Chapter 3: Co-Op Fiction - Kaz & Quejo


Light Side Decision
You are going to disable the Bastion’s main reactor using a high powered Ion Grenade, preventing the terrorists from gaining control over the Bastion, while keeping the ship otherwise intact

The Rift
High above the surface of the Bastion, the outer hull is pocketed by rifts, with one being rather large enough to allow for a small troop detachment to enter the Star Destroyer near one of the Turbolaser batteries. This Rift is fortified with mobile laser turrets and troopers. The Turbolaser Battery will protect the Bastion against aerial attacks, requiring your team to take out the battery before you can start a landing operation. While there are only a few troopers guarding the rift and operating the turrets, an immediate alarm will cause troops from other sectors of the Bastion to reinforce the troops near the rift.





The party was standing on the boarding ramp of the Nightjar. The stealth capabilities it was customized to have allowing it to hover slightly above their target, safe from the turbolaser battery in the distance. Arvalis, the respirator of his helmet making an audible pumping sound, was peering over the edge overlooking the massive structure below. The Bastion, an old Imperial Star Destroyer had not tasted the vacuum of space of decades. The hull, pocketed by small rifts, mirroring the asteroid impacts of the moon it was stranded on. One of these breaches would be their entry point.

Turning his head to the left, the Umbaran took a quick scan of his squad mates. The Taldryan rollmaster himself had joined him on this excursion. Dressed in obsidian Royal Guard armor, Quejo struck an imposing figure what with resembling a walking armory. Arvalis didn’t know the human personally, but he had heard tales of his accomplishments from Rian Taldrya. To the man’s left stood another figure, her black hair styled into dreadlocks, and the little he could see of her eyes through her breathing mask made him assume she was blind - if only partially.

“So, what’s the plan?” Arvalis started while pulling his gloves tighter.

“We dismount here, far away from that battery.” Quejo flicked his head in the general direction of the turbolaser installment. “Then we trek over the hull to the breach and make our way to the main reactor core. Once there, we use these little puppies-” Quejo, reaching into the backpack of the women to his left, took out an ion grenade. “-and make sure these terrorists don’t gain a valuable asset.”

“Right.”Arvalis nodded. “What do we do when we encounter resistance?”

“Exterminate them all.”

A slight feeling of concern sprouted in Arvalis’ mind. Quejo had said the words so calmly and composed, there was not even a hint of malice or joy in the man’s voice. Just clear, cut and dry, professionalism. Sure, Arvalis himself was pragmatic when it came to missions and potential casualties. But he was taken aback by Quejo’s choice of words, no, his order. But no more words were wasted, or needed for that matter.

Arvalis and the woman jumped off of the boarding ramp, utilizing the Force to curb the impact of their landing as Quejo rappelled down onto the Bastion instead. Arvalis almost wanted to bring up the fact that he would’ve lent the human his boot-mounted thrusters. But he also assumed the human would be too prideful to accept such an offer.

The trek was long but uneventful. The vessel was in a terrible downtrodden state, leading Arvalis to wonder if it was even space worthy in its current form. Even if they could restore power to the vessel, it would take months for the terrorists to patch up the remaining flaws in the structure.
But it wasn’t his place, nor his concern. He was there to do a job handed to him by the summit - accompanied by the summit. What he thought or felt about the situation mattered little. Only the mission mattered. And he would see it through. Through hell and high water.

He just hoped the turbolaser wouldn’t pick up on them…


“Look at them, the scum.” Impryss hissed through her mask, “They’re like insects on a carcass.”

According to intelligence received from the S.R.I - the Terrorists under the command of Vishes were working diligently to resurrect the Bastion. As if there were any doubt, the reports were true as the Taldryanite triumvirate stealthily progressed. Droids clambered across the forsaken hull and squads could be seen stationed at checkpoints throughout the mechanical terrain as they came to the peak of their ascent.

“Repair crews by the looks of them.” Q, spoke.

“So, they’re likely to be lightly armed?” Arvalis chimed in.

The Rollmaster simply gave a nod as he tapped his helmet with two fingers and pointed in the direction of an inverted panel which was raised and separating from the rest of the plated skin of the vessel.

Impryss knew what to do as she saw his order and obeyed it, jockeying for an elevated position as the rest of the squad hunkered down below her.

Her scarred eyes saw little but her true vision came from within as she reached out.

“Sir, I have orders that…” muffled messages filled her mind. “Squad shift in ten…”

“Tell me more…” She snarled as she tried to go deeper.

“Vish… to… resurrect Bastion for…”

Losing her grip on the conversation, Impryss would fail to receive a finished thought, so dropped back down.

“My lord, their squads will be rotating out within the next few minutes. We should be able to slip past their patrols.”

“It’s a sound plan and could be just the opening we’ve been waiting for.” Arvalis added with a muffled voice.

“Yes… but what then?”

Arvalis shifted his head and raised his finger to speak before Q cut him off.

“Every sound plan has multiple steps.”

“Yes, bu…”

“You’re playing Pazaak while I’m playing Dejarik.”

Arvalis rolled his eyes and looked at Impryss who parted her lips just long enough to eek out a simple question. “See what you’ve done?”

Arvalis waited until Q finished his lecture. He knew from the stories that Q was passionate about completing his missions and was dedicated to his craft. He could appreciate and respect that. However chatter was getting them nowhere so Arvalis would press on.


The Umbaran took a deep breath as he surveyed the general movements of the squads across the hull. Much like insignificant ants scurrying across the earth, there seemed to be little rhyme or reason as to where workers went; it made sense that they skipped over the smaller holes, bringing their immediate attention to the larger tears in the destroyer’s skin, but even some of those went neglected. Obviously, these terrorists weren’t capable of hiring a decent workforce.

Something the Taldryan triumvirate could possibly use to their advantage; after all, if they couldn’t be bothered to do the job they were paid to do, chances were slim they were prepared to readily die for a cause they didn’t even stand behind.

Rising to his feet with a ferocious vigor, Arvalis could sense a feeling of irritation well up inside Quejo as he was still in the midst of formulating and detailing his plan. But as far as Arvalis was concerned, they had little time to waste. If Q was to point his finger at someone, he should blame Rian Taldrya for the haphazard way he had declared their mission.

They were far passed planning and into the realm of spontaneous chaos.

He gripped his blasters, twin WESTAR-35s, and cast a glance down to Q before drawing them and starting in a dead sprint towards the largest of the gashes in the Bastion’s hull - the Rift.

“You idiot!” he could hear Quejo scream from behind him.

He didn’t hear the rest as he rapidly increased the distance between them, the Force empowering his every step. He became a vague blur, nothing more than a gray shadow bounding across the equally gray landscape that was the ship. Workers, even those only meagerly focused on their repairs, had no chance to spot him as he raced past them with preternatural speed.

They were lucky.

The terrorists guarding the entrance to the ship’s underbelly, sheltered in the shadow cast by the Bastion’s only operational turbolaser on record, less so. He set upon them like a wraith. That small spot of shadowy relief becoming a maelstrom of smoke, screams, and ultimately death as Arvalis launched himself into their midst and unleashed volleys of yellow plasma at their tender flesh. He did not revel in their horror. He took no pleasure in their pain. He did not pity the singular guard that survived the initial onslaught, crawling away panting and heaving as smoke trailed out of a hole in his abdomen.

The Umbaran was merciful. Putting the guard to rest with a well placed bolt to the back of the man’s skull.

By the time Quejo and Impryss caught up to him, Arvalis was already sitting on the edge of the rift, his feet playfully swinging back and forth over the dark abyss below.

“And I thought I was brutal,” Impryss snickered, but stopped as soon as Quejo spoke.

“Well…that happened,” the human sighed from behind his helmet. “How do you suppose we make our descent?”

“Your attendant and I go first.” Arvalis began.

“Uhhu, and?” Quejo already didn’t like where this was going.

“And then you just…jump?” In Q’s mind, a worrisome grin rose on the Umbaran’s face as he said the words.

“And we catch you with the Force. Of course.”

“Of course…” Quejo was naturally hesitant at the prospect. Not that he didn’t trust Impryss, but he was still unsure of the Umbaran. But he seemed to entertain the idea, going over the advantages.

“Beats rappelling down I suppose…” Quejo shook his head. “Ugh, fine. Whatever.”

“Excellent,” Arvalis said before letting himself slip off the edge and into the darkness of the Bastion.


The dark swallowed Arvalis with Impryss in toe. Their landings were soft and they were already scanning their surroundings before touching down. They could feel movement but it was distant, they still had time to reach out to the Colonel. Their hands mimicked one another as did their focus. Up above, the feelings were much different.

The Imperial, inhaled deeply as he expected the descent to be shaky at best. He grimaced as he suddenly felt the clutches of the Force. It was a feeling he was used to, the Force. Many Jedi and even Sith alike, have tried to take him down with their Force, only to end up a crippled mess at his feet. He had felt this energy before but not from within, it was always external. It enveloped him as it had in the past and he was gradually lowered, gracefully plucked from his moorings.

The shaky part? That would come into play with a series of lights flickering to life in succession. They started to appear in the distance but crept closer, followed by the clanking of two soldiers stammering down the empty corridor. Q spotted them through a breach in the hull, they were just making their rounds. They had a job to do but so did the trio. What would happen next was nothing personal, it was orders. The threat drew nigh and there was little Arvalis and Impryss could do without losing focus and dropping their ally.

“To the left, quickly,” Q whispered to his comrades.

In unison, the two maneuvered their hands and the Rollmaster’s body followed as the duo positioned him above the doorway. Startled, one of the warriors looked up and fired a shot that managed to glance off of Q’s armor. Instinctively, Q flipped a switch and like a meteor striking the surface of a planet, his mag boots tugged him downward; the weight of the Colonel was too much to bear as his feet connected with flesh, pinning one of the Techs to the floor. The force of the rapid descent was so great that it actually left imprints in the crushed skull and upper torso of the threat and painted the barren walls with blood splatter.

The remaining ‘warrior’ at that point was clawing at his throat and gasping for air.

“Always looking out for me.” He already knew that this was the work of his loyal right hand. There was no need to look, only time to push forward.

“Arvalis, care to scout ahead?,” asked Quejo, following with a noble hand gesture.


Behind the safe confines of his helmet, Arvalis rolled his eyes at the order. Not that the order itself bothered him, he was more than willing to obey leadership. He just didn’t like the grandstanding of the Colonel’s gesturing.

“If memory serves, which it should.” Arvalis started to ponder, visualizing schematics of Star Destroyers in his mind’s eye. “We should be close to the turret traverse motors.”

“Okay…” Quejo trailed off. “Meaning?”

“Meaning the subsidiary reactor is close. We should put some ion charges on that one too.”

“Our mission, my young friend, was to deal a devastating blow to the main reactor.”

“Ugh, fine. Whatever bossman.” Arvalis sighed.

“You know what,” Quejo raised his voice slightly in agitation. “If you want to disable some meaningless thing and become a sitting duck in process, then go ahead. Impryss and I will go to the main reactor. You go take care of the secondary one and raise some hell to draw security to yourself.”

“Do I look like I have a death wish?” Arvalis said, crossing his arms in the process. A silent objection.
“Yeah. You do.” Quejo laughed as he rummaged into Impryss’ backpack looking for two ion mine to hand to Arvalis.

“Good point.” Arvalis spun on his heel and gazed down the long stretch of grey durasteel before him.

“Rendez-vous in 60 minutes on the hull. Celia will pick us up.” The Umbaran said before darting off, leaving Quejo and Impryss behind.

“My lord, that man.” Impyrss started. “He feels weird in the Force…”

“Oh yeah? I wouldn’t know.”

“It’s probably my imagination. Sorry my lord.”

Arvalis’ breath came hard and fast as he shoulder charged one of the security guards into the wall. Taking a satisfied delight in hearing the man’s ribs break under the force of his tackle. The man’s pained gasps for air like a sonata in his ears, he quickly launched a fist into the man’s unprotected gut with his left hand. His right was already bearing one of his blasters. The Umbaran drove it deeply into the man’s jaw before loosening a single bolt through his head, the resulting mist of evaporated blood and brain tinting the otherwise bland gray wall in a deep shade of scarlet.

Like a blur, he was upon the second of the pair. Dashing past him, he drove the sole of his boot into the backside of the man’s knee, forcing him to the ground. Before the guard even realized what had happened, his eyes took on the glazed-over emptiness of death as the rest of his body flopped to the ground. Deep black holes marked his torso as trails of smoke snaked out, filling the air with the familiar smell of burned flesh and plasma discharge. Arvalis was standing over the corpse, seemingly admiring his handiwork.

“How many does that make? About 20?” He said to no one in particular. “I really should stop talking to myself. People might think I’m starting to go crazy.”

“Ugh.” the Umbaran sighed as a tingle at the back of his throat caused him to lift up his arm, never breaking eye contact with the corpse at his feet.

When another guard rounded the corner, he was dropped to the ground almost immediately with a well placed bolt between where his eyes would have been.

“The Force is a strong weapon.” Arvalis muttered to himself before turning around to look at his latest kill.

The subsidiary reactor should be just around the corner. The Umbaran thought to himself before wondering how his companions were doing. He’d had hoped he left behind enough of a trail with the dead bodies to draw most of the security force, or what was left of it, to himself.

He knew he didn’t have much time to plant the charges. He could already pick up on the muffled voices coming from deep within the hallway through his Force-augmented senses. However many there were, Arvalis knew he was not going to be able to leave the subsidiary reactor room without a decent fight. Not that he minded dealing a crippling blow to the terrorist scum that proved to be a thorn in Taldryan’s side.

“That’s one.” He muttered as he placed the charge and synced it up to the detonator before circling around to find a suitable spot to place the second.

“Ah, this should be just the spot.” His closer inspection of the secondary reactor revealed a small alcove in the structure. “Some extra penetration never hurt anyway.”

Wiping his hands off, he jumped down from the maintenance walkway only to find a good ten blaster rifles pointed on him. It drew a weary sigh from the Umbaran’s lips as he rummaged around in his suit for his lightsaber.

When he could sense the imminent discharge of one of the rifles, he threw up one of his hands in a clear stop sign. Much to his own surprise, none of the terrorists fired at him.

“Well guys, thanks for listening. Would you perhaps mind to…I don’t know. Turn the other way?”

The request seemingly fell on deaf ears as this time red bolts careened his way. Arvalis activated his lightsaber as he ran off to the near side of the room, it’s grey pillar of power coming to life with a bloodthirsty scream. He could hear the impact of the bolts nipping at his heels as he continued to run towards the wall. Once he was close to it he planted his feet, one after the other, up against it. He could now feel the bolts whizzing passed him as he ran up the wall and finished with a screwed flip. Bringing his saber to bear, he did as best he could to intercept the blaster fire while closing the distance with swift dashes from side to side.

The Umbaran knew that there was not a lot of time before he would succumb to the crossfire. Dealing with multiple blaster-wielding foes at once was not his strong suit. Digging deep within himself, he found that furnace he had built as the first step of his training. Its fires had to be stoked with his raw emotions to give rise to power. He felt his anger at being shot at, his unbridled rage as the insolence of mere terrorists daring to kill him, and the fear that they might succeed doing it. He let it all fuel the fires of the Dark Side within him. He could feel the rush of power haze his senses. He knew he was pushing himself too deeply into the shadows of the Force instead of keeping the balance between both sides like he had been taught to do.

But for once, he didn’t care.


That’s our cue,” The Rollmaster smirked behind the mask of his helmet as he caught a whiff of the distinct smell of ion discharge in the stale air of the bastion. The Umbaran had succeeded in disabling the secondary reactor.

Impryss flashed a concerned look in response but was quick to re-focus with a clearing of her throat.

“Time to claim what’s ours,” She growled, her brow shifting to become more devious.

“Go, Impryss. Show this scum what you’re capable of.”

With a scream, her legs became engorged with energy and her rage burned from within. She was prepared to unleash unholy fury upon her enemies.

“As you wish,” She spoke, biting down on her black lip before bounding forward to catch up with Arvalis.

The Umbaran had carved himself a nice path to the reactor and as he expected, the armada, now in full force, were hot on his tail.

“Quejo,” Arvalis’ voice rattled through the commlink. “I’ve just reached the reactor,” He added, the screams of his victims muffling his voice.

“Good, I’m on my way, Impryss should be catching up to you,” Q replied before sprinting down the corridor with a DX-2 in each hand. Training the sights on the wounded, he squeezed off round after round during his journey. Flesh burned and melted upon contact with the bolt of the Disruptors. The anguish all coming to an end with well placed shots to the chest and skull of those left in Arvalis’ wake. He was the end to their suffering.

“Oh yes,” The Umbaran marveled. “I see her now,” He smiled, priming the ion charge as he watched Quejo’s Apprentice. While the Rollmaster himself was not sensitive to the Force, this woman was something to behold.

Like a wave of destruction, Impryss lacerated flesh and bone, scorching everything she touched with her violent blade of energy. Like a tentacle it surprised the guards as she leapt in, whipping her blade in intricate patterns, weaving a tapestry of death. The guards didn’t know what hit them so they started to scramble. As they tried to get away, the Dark Jedi was able to push them back together with the Force but that moment would cease. The gut of Impryss churned as she halted her assault and looked to the collapsing roof.

“Watch out!!” She screamed, before instinctively leaping away.

As she retreated, the hull of the vessel was rattled with incoming fire. Through the open ports, Arvalis looked and could see fighters scream past, in formation to conduct continued strafing runs on their current location.

The heavy footsteps of Quejo got louder and louder as he barreled down the clouded corridor.

“Imp!” He Shouted as he holstered his depleted DX-2’s and tore his saber Pike from his back. With a crosscheck he leveled a troop as he was pushing himself to his feet. The satisfying crack of his jawbone was pleasing to the Colonel’s ears. He rotated his weapon like a turbine and caught another, the cobalt blade orchestrated as if it’s conductor was a practitioner of Force techniques.

“We have to get out of here. Kaz, their bringing the damned hull down on top of us!”

“I’m aware of that, Q. I just need… more… time.” Arvalis replied as he feverishly primes and set the last charge.

Arvalis’ body shook as the fighters struck once more. This time, the door leading to the reactor became blocked by falling debris.

“Q, I’ve gotta find another way out of here.”

“Hurry up, you’re coming back with us, dead or alive.” The words of the Rollmaster were not warm but they were dire.

“Celia, we need you to get us out of here!”

“Roger that, Sir. I’m on my way.” Banking the Nightjar II, Celia swooped in like a phantom, right under the noses of the enemy Squadron. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Hurry, Celia.” Arvalis replied with a shakiness in his voice.

The Umbaran looked back just as another loud explosion rattled the hull. He dropped to one knee from the force of the blast and looked up towards hanging ductwork.


The timer of the ion charge ticked down as Arvalis pushed himself to his feet.


The Savant grit his teeth as he felt the Force coursing through his veins.


At the last second, Raith pulled himself to his feet and propelled himself upward, into the duct work.


The blast was spectacular as tendrils of electricity burst forth from the tiny device and licked the electronics of the Bastion, violating its nerve center as the current rippled throughout.

“Arvalis, Arvalis!” Q shouted into his comm. “What the hell happened?!”

There was a long pause but Impryss could feel that the life force of Raith was still in tact.

“Come on,” She spoke, tugging on Q’s pauldron. “He’s over here.”

“You guys need to hurry, I think they picked up on me!” Celia barked, holding her ship steady at a fissure very near the the ping of Arvalis’ locator.

The three fighters shifted to an attack formation as they appeared over the horizon. They were closing in for the killshot, time was of the essence.

“There he is!” Impryss shouted as she saw Arvalis kicking out the grate of a duct.

“Come on!” Q Shouted and all three regrouped and made haste towards Nightjar.

“Hurry!” Celia barked once more as she dropped the loading ramp.

Whether it was the will of the Force or just dumb luck. As soon as the door dropped. Q, Impryss, and Arvalis took a leap of faith. Impryss and Arvalis made it clean but Q, out of desperation was clawing at the edge of the ramp as his jump was short. The Umbaran spun as if the Force was screaming into his ears and reached out to grab his Rollmaster’s wrist.

“Not today, boss,” Arvalis smiled, flashing a condescending wink. “Celia, get us out of here!”

Without words, Celia increased the throttle and broke free from the Bastion, just avoiding the full on assault of the fighters now on their six.

“Almost…” Celia kept repeating that specific word to herself as she waited for the approval of her hyperdrive.

“They’re locking on to us, Celia!” Arvalis shouted not out of fear but adrenaline. “Get us out of h…” Before he could finish he was tossed back into his seat as Celia ‘punched it’ and like a blue blue disappeared as eight rockets spiraled off into nothingness.

“I could kiss you!” Quejo laughed as he placed his hand on Celia’s shoulder.

“I wouldn’t suggest that my lord.” Impryss groaned as she pulled off her rebreather.

“Easy, Impryss, there’s plenty to go around.”

“Kill me now.” Arvalis chuckled.

“That can be arranged.” Impryss seethed.