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

[Prison Break] Team You’re not my real Mom



Prison Break is a Run-On competition that focuses on the Dark Jedi Brotherhood story following the events of the last vendetta and revisits our new ally the Severian Principate. Members are given an opportunity to team up with other members from across the Dark Jedi Brotherhood, and engage with the story as they see fit. While also, by the choices and decisions made by members of the team, help to shape the future alliances of the Brotherhood. The higher placing a run-on is in the competition, the more will be drawn from it for the final official telling of the story. More information is available below and on the wiki.


The Dark Council planned an uneventful transfer of prisoners from the Severian Principate facilities and control to the the Dark Jedi Brotherhood. The Collective, however, used the opportunity to launch a plan to recapture key scientists and personnel in a prison break. With the initial phase of this prison break already complete by the time the Grand Master was notified, he has requested the support of the Clans to stop the prison riots and re-establish control. Individual members are being asked to team up and immediately head to the prison facility, where they will receive orders to go down to the prison complex itself into the heart of the riots and establish control of the facility.


Your team of collected members will travel immediately to the prison complex, and will receive orders that request the team to travel down into the riots and establish control of one section of the prison by whatever means possible. The specific orders can be created by the team with creative freedom as long as it’s about establishing control. Meanwhile, there are specific decisions that can be made by the team in doing this which, depending on what the team decides will count as a vote towards how the Dark Jedi Brotherhood reputation with various factions would be.

Run-on rules:

  • Form a team of three (3) to five (5) members of the Dark Jedi Brotherhood from any unit to participate, including members of the Clans, rogues, or otherwise.
  • Members can only be part of one (1) team.
  • Each team must create one (1) thread on Discourse under the Run-On category and all posts must be published to the thread to count.
  • Threads should include [Prison Break] and a team name to properly tag it as part of the competition.
  • No members can post twice in a row, or the Run-On will be disqualified from placing.
  • Each post must be 250 +/- 10 words with no maximum length. Keep in mind Cluster of Ice guidelines for awarding in a Run-On apply, however.
  • No edits to any posts after the conclusion of the event. Recommend you follow typical vendetta rules but will not be strict on small edits made to posts by the original author of the post made as long as the competition is running.
  • No strict requirements around characters, it’s advised you create an entry post with information on characters used and edit as necessary but this is open. It is required that an entry post include the dossier numbers of all 3 to 5 members of the team so organizers know who is participating.
  • Each member of a team must make two (2) posts each for a team to qualify for placement.
  • Grading will be handled using the Run-On Grading rubric.
  • Submission to the competition should be done by one (1) member of the team, with a link to the team’s discourse thread.


Aay’han Agrona Beviin: 13425
Rrogon Skar Agrona: 13468
Tyga Orn Nilim: 15329


Tenixir, Varton system
38 ABY

The shuttle shook violently as it slowly began its passage into the atmosphere, steadily the rattling began to be felt through the panels within.

Encapsulated within a petite Iridonian paced, irritable in the confines of the metal. It was as though she could not sit down, could not settle or self soothe. The two males observed her pacing with an uncertain gaze, neither had worked with Aay’han before and both were dubious of her ability.

Before being escorted aboard the shuttle, Rrogon had been informed with whom he would be sent. The trepidation had only worsened for the Kaleesh as he watched the short Krath during the journey.

He saw his old Master’s face when he beheld her, the high cheek bones, pearlescent skin and slender build but the eyes, they were not Nath Voth’s eyes. He was not sure but they too looked familiar; the hazel that bordered upon amber gaze was in its own right disconcerting.

As his gaze followed the natural curve of clothing he saw another painful memory, she had been given his Master’s lightsaber, the glint of it was unmistakable and it took a great control of impulse to not snatch it away from the child.

The Battlelord sat hunched in his confines for the moment slowly trying to self soothe frayed nerves, and tend reopened wounds that he believed had long closed. Truthfully if he were honest there had been days he missed the skinny Iridonian, she had given practical council, seldom wasting time upon frivolity.

The thing that was before him now, scented like a different creature, one of newly blossoming hormones as puberty began and a sense of uncertainty of expectation. He could also smell she was not wholly Iridonian also. It was a confusing medley of scents and one he was unsure he wished to explore at present.

On the other hand Tyga had a different view of things, though the girl was pacing he could see it was the anticipation, the need to act that forced the movements. He recognised a fellow Mandalorian, identified her need to act and move to be free from restraint.

His lekku gave an amused twitch, it went unnoticed as the tension built. If nothing else it would be very entertaining. Both men had almost a foot of difference in height, the Iridonian was very short but by the looks of things she would grow and swiftly.

As the girl made another round the Kaleesh yanked her down into one of the bucket seats, fingers quick to pull the fastenings around her to strap her in. He knew they would begin to break the atmosphere proper in short order and then her little head would smack the bulkhead very quickly.

“So… You know each other?” The Twi’lek couldn’t hide the curiosity much longer.

Aay’han gave a small hiss of discontent but obeyed with a glare of pure malice.

“Yes.” She spoke, just as Rrogon exclaimed the exact opposite reply.

“I remember you.” They both saw the flash of crimson in her gaze as she spoke. The pair knew this was nothing but a distraction for what lay ahead.

“We can explore this opportunity of delights when the mission is over.” Skar was not in the mood for these games, he wasn’t sure he ever would be.

“When we arrive our mission is simple enough, the sector must be secured, the inmates will obey and bend the knee to the whims of Arcona or die for their freedom.”

Tyga gazed on and nodded slowly to acknowledge the directive. He wasn’t sure yet how he felt about it, granted they were prisoners, they had committed crimes. It seemed only fitting for them to be punished for it.

Aay’han glared fixating on Rrogon’s eyes, he could see she was ready, the darkness that was within her, she most likely wouldn’t give the prisoners much of a choice. If she was physically capable, there had been no proof of it; she had just been adopted into Galeres without question like a lost babe.

With considerable force the trio were pushed back into their chairs as the gravity pressed against them. Tyga took a deep breath as Aay’han squirmed in discomfort. Skar settled back accustomed to the sensation.

It wouldn’t be long now, soon they would be wholly dependent on one another for their wellbeing.


Tenixir, Varton system,
38 ABY

From the outside, the shuttle began to glow as it entered the atmosphere of Tenixir. Pushing himself back into the bucket seat, Tyga took deep breaths and prepared himself for what was to surely be a frantic and overwhelming situation. Outside the shuttle windows, Tenixir grew and grew, with the prison complex looming beneath them and the visions of battle appeared.

The shuttle landed on the pad with a hiss and then it settled on its legs. Unbuckling his straps, the young Twi’lek got onto his feet and heard sirens and voices over speakers. It seemed the guards were having a hard time in keeping the upper hand against the rioters. Tyga glanced at his compatriots and his hand moved down to his lightsaber hilt and he gripped it.

Making his way into the prison following his team, it was absolute chaos. Prisoners were now trying to take over the guards’ station, using stolen food, and laundry, carts as battering rams against the doors. His lekku twitched in anger and Tyga withdrew the lightsaber from his belt and it ignited with a hiss, causing the crowd of prisoners to temporarily stop their assault.

They began to advance, so Tyga immediately used the Force to push a food cart towards the group and several were knocked over like bowling pins, while some continued their advance towards the Jedi, armed with homemade weaponry. Taking up an offensive stance, Tyga cut down the first prisoner and pushed the next two into the thick concrete walls surrounding the lower floor level. Suddenly, both lekku began to twitch uncontrollably. This habit had come about when another Twi’lek was trying to contact him via the secretive Twi’leki language.

Tyga hastily dealt with the remaining group of rioting prisoners by tapping into the Force and throwing them into the walls or pushing them into one another, rendering them unconscious from the impacts. As the guards moved to the block to contain this now quelled portion of the riot, the Twi’lek felt someone reaching through the Force and they were none too happy.

“Are you coming to rescue me Tyga, or do I have to do everything myself?!!” came the reply; Tyga recognized the voice immediately as Icanpaga, a Light Sith arcanist and also a cousin.

Following Icanpaga’s voice, Tyga made his way toward a heavy metal door, controlled by an electronic fingerprint scanner. It seemed that his task had finished before it began. Suddenly, there was a pulsating sensation in the air and the scanner began to short out. Shortly after, its circuitry imploded. The door was opened by an invisible hand and Tyga ventured down the dimly lit stairwell, using his ignited lightsaber as a source of light, as he shuffled in the dark.

The Twi’lek stumbled and nearly fell due to a blinding light. Blinking heavily and getting his bearings, Tyga saw that all the lights had been turned on and he’d continued on his journey to Icanpaga’s cell. Up above, the battle raged between the Brotherhood and prisoners. He had a pang of conflict, feeling a need to make his way back to the Mandalorian and the Kaleesh.

But, on the other hand, the pull of family was strong. Tyga reached a long hallway consisting of double-locked cells. Scanning the cells, Tyga received no feedback. As he got to the end of the hall, a strong Force surge overcame him and it nearly brought him down to his knees. The cell resembled the others, but when he looked through the viewing window, it was terrifying.

“And you have won the prize Tyga…” unscrewing the electronic lock panel, he re-routed the circuits and the door slid open with a loud hiss. There in a Force cage, was Icanpaga. She was wearing a rubber Force-dampening bodysuit, restrained in a tight straitjacket, cuffed together at the legs and thighs and muzzled, to keep her silent, since she enjoyed taunting the warden.

Watching on in amazement, the Force cage began to flicker and the control panel on the wall exploded in a flash of light. The shield dropped and Tyga quickly got to work releasing his cousin from her restraints, all the while keeping an ear out for prison guards who may have discovered the open door in the main prison and all of the lights on within the isolation block.

“Turn around!! This is not for young eyes…” Icanpaga said with a smirk as she slipped out of the Force-dampening bodysuit into a loincloth and chest wrap. Now free from imprisonment, she used the Force to override those locks on a metal container set into the wall and retrieved her lightsaber. Igniting the blade, she brought Tyga into the corridor and then sensed that she could either assist her younger cousin in the fight or to make good her escape from Tenixir.

In a few seconds, she made her decision. Tyga watched her vanishing down a long corridor, before turning to her cousin and blowing him a kiss, making her escape off-planet, knowing he did not need her help, because he was more than capable of holding his own. The battle in the main prison had shifted into high gear, so Tyga quickly retraced his steps and re-joined the fight. As he found the Mandalorian and Kaleesh battling another group of prisoners, Tyga kept quiet on the facts that he had freed a Sith Elder and that she was also part of his family.


Rrogon was a rolling storm of conflicting emotions as they made their way through the prison complex, he was not pleased to have been left alone with his niece in such a high stress situation, let alone the fact she was reckless and unfocused. It was a danger for the both of them, but he couldn’t focus on that now.

Once the prison was passafied he would be having words with Tiga once this was all over, just running off without a word to the rest of their squad was unacceptable in any situation, combat or no. It was unprofessional and dangerous to say the very least but the Battlelord filed this away like so many other things to be dealt with later.

His saber cleaved through to the torso of a Zabrak who had charged him with a makeshift shiv and he was now cleanly sliced in half, falling apart with a sickening splat on the floor.

Those few men who had followed behind the now bisected man halted their charge and stared in fear as the Sith closed the distance. HIs Lightsaber flashed and clove with deadly efficacy killing or maiming each person that stood before it. He reveled in the screams of panic and anger as more and more attention was drawn to him.

To his left he saw his Niece in a similar situation though her blade work was wild as it was deadly. Men and women alike were falling around her smaller frame and the Sith could tell she was about to be overwhelmed by the mob. A roar escaped his lips as he threw out his hands forming a bubble around the younger Sith warrior that snapped to life protecting her from the surge of bodies.

Not skipping a beat, the juggernaut strode forward, his blade swiping out at the stray prisoner that came too close for his liking cleaving them to bits as he made his way over to his family member.

Skar’s robotic claws lashed out grabbing one rotund human by the back of the head and lifting him clear off of his feet before he began to scream in pain until a bloody crack was heard as the metal claws pierced his skull killing him.

Tossing the limp body into a group of other prisoners knocking them clean to the ground he quickly set to work killing the rest of the mob that had bogged down the Krath.

In short order she was pulled free of the new pile of corpses, covered in blood and other fluids. He pulled her close, his face pressing into her forehead the anger dripping from his voice.

“I told you to stay close to me!” he hissed, his eyes just barely catching sight of Tyga off to his left joining the fray from wherever he has been.

“I can take care of myself.” She hissed back pulling her arm free from his robotic grasp but keeping contact with his head. Half out of challenge, half grudging respect.

“Clearly, since I had to save you from your own stupidity. You may be powerful in the Force Aay’han but you lack the experience to keep yourself alive! Now stay close to me.” He chided making sure this last order was clearly non negotiable in any way. Soon after the rest of the mob had been either killed or driven off to one of their last bastions.

With this section of the Prison cleared the Sith rounded on Tyga. “You are going to tell me after we get out of this place why you thought leaving in the middle of a riot and going off alone to do god’s know what was in any way a good idea!” He snarled, jabing a blood covered talon into the Twi’leks chest before setting off to their next destination.

Aay’han bit back a small smile, feeling at least a bit placated that she wasn’t the only one in trouble.

The trio rounded one of the many corridors to where one of the last bastions of ritors had held up. The rest of the prison had been brought under control in short order with the arrival of the Arconans who were taking no chances and killing anyone who resisted.

It was simpler this way and a lot less hassle to worry about being stabbed in the back if one broke out. Better to just kill them and be done with the whole mess all together.

It was a grim way of looking at things but it’s how Rogon has survived up until this point in the Brotherhood and that wasn’t going to change soon.

Looking up, he gazed at the makeshift baracared that was blocking the path to which his datapad had designated the mess hall. A low growl escaped his lips as he looked over the ramshackle wall of tables and chairs, as if this was supposed to keep anyone out.

“Let’s end this.” he said, lifting his hands to clear the way.


Aay’han came to an abrupt halt.

“So what? We just kill them all?” She was surprised by this, the Half breed had never really been on a mission before she had no concept of what it had meant or really what it meant to survive the odds.

Skar softened slightly, the question was asked with such innocence that it was difficult to not respond to it. He tugged her before him, spinning her slightly to force her to turn and face the mob that had barricaded themselves within the mess hall.

“Look at them Aay’han, you look upon murderers, rapists and thieves. They will kill you as soon as it suits their needs.” his sibilant voice hissed quietly down her ear as he leaned down over her. The posture was protective, he knew she had no clue what these people were able to do, how they would show you their affections in one moment but in the next you would be bleeding on the floor."

Aay’han wasn’t sure what to believe, she knew her parents would have taken the same tactics also.

Stepping forward, she addressed all of those behind the barriers that had hidden away.

“Do you wish to live!?” There was silence that responded. “Well!? Shall i take that as a no?” Slowly people came forward, Tyga and Skar tensed up their lightsabers ready for creating combat and contention. Neither of them likes where this was going so far.

They threw down the weapons they had in their hands. And offered themselves up, like lambs ready for the slaughter. Aay’han’s jaw dropped internally, she could not believe that they were willing to surrender.

“Please don’t hurt us, we aren’t criminals, we are slaves and abused by the corruption of the Severian Principate.” Throwing down the weapons they stepped forward hands raised willing to be subjugated into the whims of the Dark Jedi Brotherhood.

Skar and Tyga both were shocked by the sheer amount of people that came forward, like a small tidal wave they came forth and dropped their weapons before passing behind her, willing to obey and pacify themselves to her whim.

They came forth one by one, Aay’han being the naive soul that she would allow them close. Trusting they would not harm her, trusting they would yield to her whims willingly. Her lightsaber had remained at her hip willing to have faith that they would willingly give in.

Aay’han did not anticipate the shiv that was lovingly piercing her abdomen as a male Hapan approached. The pain danced along her nerves making her laugh, she couldn’t stop herself any more, it tumbled from her lips like a lover’s lament.

Blood flowed through her robes as her knees buckled and her spine curved. The pain was the biggest motivator for the Iridonian, it danced and hummed along the pathways of her biology.

The half Mandalorian Iridonian’s lightsaber ignited burning through flesh and bone of the Hapan as he stood so close. The smell of burning flesh assaulted the senses and crimson vitae gushed forth spilling onto the dusty floor intermingling with the Mandalorian’s blood.


Tenixir, Varton system, 38 ABY

“You are going to tell me after we get out of this place why you thought leaving in the middle of a riot and going off alone to do god’s know what was in any way a good idea!”

The metal talon pressed into the chest plate of the Twi’lek’s armour, smearing blood across it. Skar’s venom-filled words caught him off guard and he pushed the waves of panic to the back of his mind. Swinging around to his left, Tyga dodged a beefy and towering Chagrian who charged him with a sword-length shiv. The purple lightsaber ignited and sliced the shiv in half. The Chagrian stood there dumbfounded and tried to back away and escape, but Tyga continued to advance until he was standing toe to toe and looked up, the lightsaber hovering at the Chagrian’s waist. Suddenly, the Chagrian pulled out a second, hidden shiv from under his clothing and his eyes glowed as he went into a blind rage, slashing and hacking away. The Twi’lek levelled his lightsaber and then in one swift move, cleaved off the shiv hand and the appendage skittered across the floor. Howling in pain, the Chagrian tried to turn and run off.

Reaching through the Force, Tyga pulled the prisoner back and the Chagrian’s eyes changed and revealed his powerlessness. The Twi’lek was immediately put back on the defensive as he found himself facing one more prisoner, who was a friend of the Chagrian. A towering Bothan came towards him at full tilt, grasping two shivs and he roared in anger at seeing his friend harmed. He was at least two metres taller than the Twi’lek and also had a much longer reach, so he seemed to be the victor. Tyga tapped into the Force like never before and went into a flurry of unbridled rage, with just a subtle hint of the Dark Side tainting his attacks.

As the Bothan swung to land strikes on his lekku and face, Tyga swung away in time and the lightsaber blade cut into the Bothan’s fur and gave him a grievous wound, spilling blood on the floor. The Bothan fell to the floor and struggled to get to his feet. The purple blade rested against the Bothan’s neck and then he dropped his homemade weapons in a sign of defeat.

Reaching the barricade across the entrance to the mess hall, he waited for the next onslaught of prisoners armed to the teeth. Ahead of him, he saw Aay’han standing firm and calling out to those who were taking cover inside the hall. His lightsaber stayed by his side, waiting for a wave of violence to come crashing

over the temporary barricades. But it was now time for something completely different. One by one, all of the prisoners emerged with their hands up.

“Please don’t hurt us, we aren’t criminals, we are slaves and abused by the corruption of the Severian Principate,” came the reply, as the prisoners broke down the barricade and began to silently file past Aay’han, himself and Skar, submitting their wills to the Dark Brotherhood.

Suddenly, there was a commotion near the barricades, and the sounds of a lightsaber piercing flesh, as Aay’han collapsed after having been blindsided by a Hapan amongst the group. The pair’s blood mingled on the floor and Tyga ran towards the Mandalorian, pushing through the crowd of prisoners and knelt down by her side. Looking over at her attacker, he knew that the Hapan had not much time left and he felt something surging through the Force; it was Skar.


The Juggernaut felt a chill through the Force before he saw the blood, he could smell it before his niece’s blade cut the man down. In his panic the Sith used the force to practically throw prisoners out of his way to get to her.

People around him got the message and soon were backing away quickly. Some with dark expressions on their faces having seen one of their comrades just cut down.

The Kaleesh knelt beside Aay’han practically throwing Tyga off of her, his hands immediately folding over her torso to stifle the flow of blood. The wound itself was a natsy piece of work; the jagged edge of the shiv had torn the flesh in a jagged line. Rage was coursing through the Kaleesh a he looked down at his last remaining family.

He would not lose her like he had lost the rest of them, he refused to go through that pain again he couldn’t. The red glow in his eyes pulsed as he reached a hand out into the crowd pulling a umbaran man who had been passively watching the whole affair go down.

The movement was sudden and violent, the Kaleesh pulled the male to his knees and into the open claws that eagerly grasped. The prisoner began to flail and protest before the crushing grip clamped down on his windpipe.

The Sith began to pull the life out of the poor man and channel it into his dying Niece, slowly but surely the wound began to stitch itself together the damaged tissue knitting back into one whole piece.

Meanwhile the man who was trapped in the iron claw grip was starting to slow down on his struggling as his life was being channeled into the Iridonian.

With the wound mostly held as much as he could get it to be without a proper medic to look it over the Kaleesh scooped up Aay’han who had begun to cackle quietly into his arms and turned to the Tyga ignoring the now still man at his feet.

“We are leaving now!” He snarled ignoring the ever restless prisoners even as some clamored for the Arconans to take them with them. It was never going to happen as their pleas fell on deaf ears.

The Juggernaut spun on his heels and began to make his way to their pre planned extraction point. He cared not for the state of the prison now all that mattered was getting his family to a proper medic.


The team staggered back, Aay’han attempting to stand of her own volition which only led to further damage and growling warnings from her Uncle who gripped her tighter as she squirmed hither and thither.

“Stop it, girl or I will buckle you down myself.” The half breed obviously was not best pleased with the potential outcome of it giving a passive aggressive hiss of discontent before settling down to be carried.

Tyga followed suit keeping close, uncertain how to take the whole affair. The Iridonian didn’t seem to be that bothered by being stabbed. As though it grazed her skin instead of seeping into and through vital organs. The female was odd in his opinion, naive if she thought she could do such things without facing the consequences.

He considered her fortunate, most Arconan’s would probably have left her there for the stupidity she had shown. Maybe from this she would learn something substantial and a universal truth when it came to people. For her sake he hoped she did.

The shuttle took its time, even though they had informed them of the medical emergency that had taken place. Some of the prisoners followed, amassing in a small crowd, it was very disconcerting being aware of them almost within arms reach.

The mob wasn’t stupid, they were smart enough to stay just out of lightsaber distance, which meant they could if they were inclined begin to pelt the trio as they walked away.

Skar stood square shouldered and confident which gave the smaller Twi’lek some confidence to do the same as they congregated for the shuttle.

“She’ll survive right?” Skar looked over to Tyga, subconsciously he drew Aay’han closer to his chest.

Before the Kaleesh could reply the Iridonian butted in.

“Don’t mind me, I’m not awake or anything.” Her voice hid her pain very well but not so much her unimpressed tone.

“Forgive me for not being an expert in medicine to gauge your condition.” He bit back with equal venom.

“You could have just asked.” Tyga swore he could hear her pout.

At that moment Skar remained silent, idly he pondered if Aay’han would be more stress than she was worth. It was a thought that was discarded rapidly as he knew she probably would be but it wouldn’t put him off. In truth it was at times nice to have someone so blindly innocent around.

The half Iridonian was trying her best to remain still but found it difficult.

“Let me stand.” A small demand which was pointless.

“Your knees will buckle.” As he spoke the shuttle finally landed, the trio was quick to step onto the ramp Tyga was forced to ignite the lightsaber yet again, swinging it to stop a tidal wave of prisoners that wanted to escape off the planet.

It took about three people losing limbs and dropping in screaming bloody piles on the ramp. The Twi’lek gave a swift hard kick to each of them to move them off.

With a whirr the engines ignited and forced up against the gravity. Forcing off the ground took a few uncomfortable moments as they had to get rid of the excess weight of the prisoners but eventually the ramp pulled back and sealed with a comforting hiss.

“Home, sweet home time.” The Iridonian giggled manically as the blood loss had begun to reach her head.