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

Excursion - A Clan Event


Opening Fiction

ICN Sidious
Deep Space

The Imperial High Command stood together, staring off into dark abyss of deep space. The bridge was quiet, but then again the whole ship was. So precious few of the Empire left to wander the halls of the ship. Just at the edges of the window was the IMS Tipoca II, the lifeboat that had kept the clan from the brink of oblivion.

“Do you really think Jorm’s plan will work?” Mune questioned.

“It might. If anyone would get it done, it’s him. And if not… His… sacrifice will be remembered as yet another casualty due to this whole thing,” Xen’Mordin replied while gritting his teeth.

“The shock and pain of what happened in the Cocytus system has kept the clan united for now. But they will break. Surviving isn’t enough, Xen,” Elincia said.

“If Jorm succeeds, compiled with the rest of the ships we have been acquiring… We will have enough to at least secure us a new home. With dirt and rock under our feet instead of the cold steel of these ships,” Xen responded.

“Not to mention personal space. I think if we keep enforcing the members to stay on the Tipoca much longer they will finish what the Iron Fleet started and kill each other,” Elincia said. She herself had sealed off a massive section of the station for herself.

“Have you even stepped foot on the station since your initial appearance Xen?” Mune asked.

“Now and again. To show solidarity to the members,” Xen said. He paused a moment before continuing, “With the rest of the ships here we can break up the members and crews enough to space them out some. Though I don’t anticipate them spending much time here anyway.”

He began to pace. Jorm was late, and the anticipation was killing him. They needed to round off their fleet. All it would take was one band of pirates to find them, or worse the Republic, or worser the Iron Fleet. Xen knew they’d probably still die even with the additional ships, but at least it would be a heroic and valiant undertaking.

Elincia and Mune continued to talk while Xen paced. Now and again the synthetic tones of G14 would interject its own thoughts and opinions. The only peace Xen found as he paced was that the Grand Vizier and Grand Admiral both knew what they were doing, a mountain of tasks off his plate to worry about.

Then a Venator-class ship dropped out of hyperspace before them. Jorm’s gleeful voice crackled through the comms. He was yelling over the sound of music.

“The Swarm Lord is here and reporting for duty.”

IMS Tipoca II
Deep Space

Once again all the clan members of Scholae Palatinae were herded together in the halls of the medical station, this time with much more pushing and shoving. Standing on a makeshift platform before the giant atrium windows was their Consul, still looking out of place among the mess of supplies that had been acquired and stored there.

In the windows behind him, they were able to make out the Sidious which had been joined by several other large ships, and a mass of smaller ones, all moving to surround the station in a defensive pattern.

Xen attempted several times to quiet the clan so he could speak. After his yells for silence went unanswered, G14 interjected by blasting a high pitched screech into the room. After some very profane and inventive cursing by everyone in the room, Xen included, there was silence.

“As you might have noticed, we have… obtained some new ships. This station is no longer horrible under defended, only moderately so. So you can sleep slightly easier with that knowledge,” Xen began gesturing out the window.

“I would like to introduce you all to some of the ships that will help us get off this station and back to solid ground.”

A holoprojector hummed to life displaying the Victory-class Sidious.

“By now you all are familiar with out new flagship, the Sidious”, Xen said. The image changed to the Venator-class ship.

“The Swarm Lord,” Jorm interjected with glee. Xen shook his head.

“Thank you Jorm, but this ship shall be known as the Vader. Obviously you all are familiar with who he was,” Xen said. The image changed again to a Vindicator-class cruiser.

“This is the Tarkin, named for the first and great Grand Moff of the Galactic Empire, and regional Governor of the Outer Rim Territories,” Xen stated. The holoprojection flickered, and still displayed a Vindicator class, only with slightly different wear and tear.

“And this is its twin, the *Thrawn *. Admiral Thrawn was a brilliant tactician and military genius, worthy of our recogntition.” The image changed to an Acclamator-class assault ship.

“And finally the Amedda. Mas Amedda served Emperor Palpatine from his rise as Chancellor in the Senate and as Grand Vizier through his life as the Emperor,” Xen said. The projector changed to show some of the smaller vessels they had bought, borrowed, and stolen in a quick order.

“I know it’s not like what we had. But with this fleet, we now have the means to defend ourselves again, and more importantly, take ourselves a new home,” Xen finished.

Sovereign Phoenix
Deep Space

“Glad to see your quality of life hasn’t been hindered by the loss of our home,” Braecen jested.

“It can be a bit cramped with both of our egos present. Why don’t you take a seat with the rest of us, Executor?” Xen sighed. Yorzhul let out what sounded like a laugh followed by some quiet growls. His droid looked up and began to translate quickly, before realizing the Wookiee was talking to himself and not to the others. It looked back and forth from its master to the others sitting around the table before attempting to shrink itself as small as possible.

“I’ll keep this simple. We have the means to strike out now. And I know everyone in the clan, us included, is looking forward to letting loose some steam,” Xen said. He pointed to Yorzhul and Braecen.

“I am expecting both of you to oversee your houses lead an… excursion out into the wilds of space. How you go about that I leave to you and your members. It is time we find a new home.”


Closing Fiction

Inner Rim

Reiden sat on the grown wooden bench enjoying a refreshing local drink. They had called it Imaroto, a juice from one of the planet’s indigenous fruits. They had been surprised to find such an isolated system in the inner rim. The people were simple, pre-hyperdrive capable, barely reaching out to colonize the other planets and moons of the system.

Dek Ironius II kept his hand resting on the hilt of his Westar-34 blaster pistol. Something about this place felt wrong, and his keen blue eyes examined the rest of the village as if he expected an illusion to be broken.

“You should relax some,” Reiden said taking another long drink. The planet was densely forested, and the mixture of heat and humidity made the drink especially enjoyable. While the locals were having a growing technical age, what was remarkable about this place was that all the buildings had been grown, not built. Each was continually growing stronger, and larger. The richest people on the planet were direct descendants of bloodlines stretching back generations.

“I am relaxed,” Dek said. He locked eyes with a group of mothers herding their children along the pathway. The mothers pushed their kids across the field, cutting a wide berth around the two outsiders.


The shouting was faint but clearly audible. Reiden stood up beside Dek and looked off in the direction of the cry. It came again louder.

The two peers through the trees across the small open field and saw a man running through the trees. A man with no pants.

“We need to go!” James Malum yelled. One of the newer members of the clan, he had taken up quickly to venture out to find a new home. Behind him, dozens of locals were giving chase. Dek and Reiden both swore and took off running in the direction of their ship.

Outer Rim

This could practically be New Ohmen,” Shadow Nighthunter thought to herself. The rambling streets and sprawl of buildings felt like a distorted reflection of the home they had all once had. The smells, the dirt, the noise. It was almost like they had never left the city behind.

Then came the bells. Three loud gongs cried through the air echoing off the strong walls of the buildings, reverbing out to announce to the whole city. As the last of the three chimes died, the city was completely silent.

“Wha-,” Shadow began to ask. Xantros quickly placed a hand over the Battlemaster’s mouth. Several people on the street shot them both glances, a mixture of anger and disgust.

Unified the city began to chant. The people spoke basic readily enough to the Palatinaeans, and to each other from what was observed, but this was something different. Something old and revered.

The chanting stopped and everyone spun around to their right twice, then went back to what they had been doing. The fact that the Palatinaeans hadn’t joined in the ritual didn’t go unnoted, with a couple of individuals running off frantically. Xantros removed his hand from Shadow’s face.

“I think we brought some unwanted attention to ourselves there…” The Duros said. His large red eyes scanned over the faces of the other people on the street. A siren picked up, growing louder. Two lawmen, astride speederbikes, came tearing up the street.

“You dare violate the Terovan?” One of them yelled in a thick accent as he swung his leg up and over, dismounting his bike.

“I’m afraid we are not from aroun-” Xantros attempted to explain. The officer held up a hand silencing the Duros.

“It matters not! The Terovan must be observed by all! Ignorance is not an excuse!” The officer bellowed, face turning red. He was trembling as he yelled, so offended that anyone would attempt to plead ignorance.

“Erm… Well then we will just be going then,” Shadow said, taking several steps back.

“You may not leave! You are to be executed in the main square!” The other officer yelled, holding up a set of stun cuffs. Shadow swore and grabbed both her lightsabers from her belt.

“Well, if you want to do this the hard way.” She said through gritted teeth.

Outer Rim
“Well that is pretty,” Kylex said staring out the window. He had picked this system by throwing a dart at a printout of the region. It had actually landed on a completely different system, but its sole planet was a barren rock with an atmosphere of pure sulfur. It wasn’t the next closest system either, as that was home to a small sect of Mandalorians. The Jibo system was the next closest after that one, luckily on the other side of the system fate had originally guided him to.

Within a few short minutes, Kylex would be wishing he had just thrown the dart again.

Kylex had gone at this alone, unlike the small teams of his fellow Palatinaeans that had also ventured out into the galaxy to find a new home. He wanted the glory and credit of finding a new home to himself.

“We are picking up some large clusters of life signatures sir,” the voice of Harron crackled through the comm system. The pilot had agreed to shuttle the Warrior on his quest.

“Take us in then. Time to schmooze our way into a paradise world,” Kylex said. He remained in place, staring out the shuttle window as the surface of the planet rapid filled his view. His mind raced with thoughts of what could be accomplished on a world such as this. It was such a prettier and liveable place compared to Caina or Antenora. He was snapped out of his daydreaming by Harron.

“Sir, we are picking up some incoming transmissions. It’s not basic.”

Kylex swore. He should have thought about bringing a protocol droid.

“Keep going, I’ll just have to improvise!” Kylex said.

“Sir they… they don’t sound very happy. I think they want us to turn around,” Harron continued.

“Nonsense! We do not run with our tails behind our legs!” Kylex commanded. There was some more crackle of static across the comm line, but Harron didn’t respond. Several more minutes passed.

“Sir, I really think we should turn back,” Harron said more frantically. The shuttle shot to the side, then up, then down. Kylex was thrown to the ground.

“Are we being shot at?” Kylex yelled. Harron began to reply before cutting off again, taking some extreme evasive measures, but it was not enough. The main engine was hit. Smoke began to fill the ship as it entered a free fall.

Sovereign Phoenix
Deep Space

“We should feel lucky Kylex is the only one missing. Several dozen systems and planets, and nearly all of them have ended in conflict with the locals,” Elincia said, eyes racing over the continuous stream of reports from the field.

“We are going to be re-establishing the Empire wherever it is we land. Unless we find a habitable system with no people, there is going to be conflict. And if we go to a place with no people, we will have a pretty hard time growing the Empire. I think it is safe to say we are going to have to see a few casualties to survive,” Xen’Mordin responded. He had stopped reading through the reports several hours ago.

The clan had performed admirably, taking to the mission of finding their new home with gusto. They continued to do so, every setback they faced only renewed their vigor to find a new permanent home.

“There are some promising systems in here then. Ones I think we can handle without too much hassle,” Mune said. The Grand Admiral was poking at a datapad, configuring the new fleet deployment around the Tipoca II.

“Where we are going will be a hassle. But if we weather this, the Empire will be stronger than ever,” Xen said.

“You’ve made a decision?” Braecen asked. Xen nodded. He had known where they would be going before he had ever sent the clan out to explore. He just needed to see what else was out there to confirm his decision. He pressed a series of buttons and a holoprojection of a star system sprang up from the table. Everyone’s eyes studied it for a moment.

“I don’t recognize this as one of the one’s we’ve searched?” Lexiconus questioned. Xen nodded again. Mune’s posture straightened, and one of his eyes gave a slight twitch of recognition. Xen locked eyes with the Rollmaster and gave a subtle knowing tilt of his head.

“This is the Caperion system. This is where we are going to build a new home,” Xen commanded.