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

[Shattered Ties] Rambler’s Run-On


Shattered Ties Run-On Event

Archangel Palpatine (7589)
Jorm (The Jester) Na’trej (12044)
Rosh Nyine (12671)
Alara Deathbane (12681)
Elinca Rei (5951)


A scissor of sunlight sliced through the canopy, illuminating the office. Dr. Elincia Rei had planned to remain on her homeworld, keeping track of the events on Mygeeto from her base hidden deep in Judecca’s jungle, focusing on her duties as Cocytus System Moff. However, her estimation of the Black Hand’s psychological instability had been far too conservative, and as a result, the situation had escalated beyond her predictions.

“G14, show the footage again,” she said to the empty room. The monitor showed scenes of violence erupting spontaneously from apparent peace, men dying on both sides. The living and the dead were thrown around the cabin as the shuttle lost control, descending towards the planet. While the Moff cared little for the artefacts on board, she understood perfectly well their importance to the Emperor and the clan as a whole. “Reverse and hold at 38.5.” The viewport was visible in the footage, angled directly down, showing the frozen surface of Mygeeto. Below, another transport ship spiralled out of control towards an urban area. “Do we have a position and velocity vector on the transport?”

“Of course,” sounded the robotic female voice of the AI that Elincia had become so familiar with in recent months.

“Mygeeto has a rotational period of 12 hours. Looks like the shuttles are on a collision course with that city. Mygeeto’s diameter is 10,000 km. Calculate the distance from the surface and the likely landing zone of both transports. Get me a probability heatmap ASAP.” G14’s response was drowned out by Elincia’s focus as she scanned over top secret dossiers of Scholae Palatinae’s Dark Jedi.

There was only one unit fit for this job, the darkest of the dark, the unit that only the Emperor’s closest allies even knew existed. Scholae’s new enemies would be swarming over the surface of Mygeeto, as desperate to reclaim the artefacts before their rivals. Only Excidium would be quick enough and cunning enough to emerge victorious. She transmitted a voice message to Mygeeto, to Excidium’s second in command, Rosh Nyine. “Aedile Nyine, this is Dr. Elincia Rei. Red Fury and CNS will be after the artefacts in the transports that are about to crash land in an urban region. We must get there first. Assemble a small team of Excidium’s best men and prepare for a landing on Mygeeto. We’re already calculating its trajectory to give us a head start but it won’t last for long.”


The chilly night began to fall as an eerie silence gripped the streets of the city. Sitting inside an abandoned and dusty house, surrounded by debris from a previous battle, a figure dressed in an immaculate imperial uniform watched with interest the evolution of the few remaining skirmishes of the battle against the pirates in a small holographic projector.

The slight smile of satisfaction from Rosh Nyine was indicative of his feelings seeing the results of the campaign against the Red Fury, in which he had participated voluntarily since the first soldiers were sent to the surface of Mygeeto. Now, after the battle, he was waiting anxiously for the time to return to Caina and its icy surfaces.

The intercom broke the silence with a shrill whistle, and Rosh sat straight to receive the next sequence of commands that were supposed to direct him to the spaceport to send him home.
Activating the intercom, the message transmitted by the holographic projection of Dr. Rei came as a blow against the hopes of the veteran assassin. It seemed that the campaign had not ended, but had just begun, and they had to play the first steps on a new frontline. Since it was a simple recorded message, once it was finished playing the message, the slagheap that was the room fell silent again.

Rosh pulled out a small flask of liquor and took a sip thinking about which members could form the team that had to complete a mission of this magnitude. After pressing several buttons on the holographic projector, he began to look for the names of those who had fought in the streets of the city against the Red Fury pirates. A list began to form before his eyes as he leaned against the wall and took another swig of liquor. Members of the House who were in the area of ​​Mygeeto were numerous, but Rosh already had a clear idea of who he had to choose.

Leaving aside the flask, he raised the intercom from his wrist up to his mouth and began to speak.

“Mygeeto surface. ExcSec channel, encrypted code 583722. Message to Archangel Palpatine, Jorm Na’trej and Alara Deathbane.”

The intercom took a few moments to locate the Excidium members and encrypt the message, but the light emitted by the device started flashing with a slight bluish light, indicating that it was ready to receive and send the message.

“Gentlemen, ladies, our campaign on Mygeeto is not over. Dr. Rei needs the services of Excidium again and I need the best members of our house to complete this mission. Archangel, Jorm, I need you to move to my position. Alara, I understand that you have not yet reached the surface, divert the flying course of your transport to a nearby position and proceed to the coordinates transmitted in this message. Come alone. Rosh out.”

If the veteran Nyine knew something after having fought many times in the ranks of Naga Sadow, it was that the mission entrusted to them would not only be not easy, but carnage would ensue before all was over.

Resigned, he picked up the flask and took a last drink before returning it to his small storage in the room. He needed to be fresh for the party in which he was called to dance.


His armored boots dug into the permafrost, leaving deep scour marks as he loped through the urban terrain. With each step, a huff of vapor poured from the vents of his helmet, wicking away the moisture before it could fog his visor. He was already breathing heavily, but almost a century of war tended to breed remarkable stamina into a soldier. His eyes watched the icons on his Heads Up Display, and he corrected his course, taking a side alley which would send him in a more direct route to his target.

The area was quiet, the crystalline structure of the ground seeming to absorb any lingering sounds with remarkable alacrity. His passing seemed to fade almost as it can come, little in the way of an echo, only deep footsteps to trace his path. He slowed to a walk, tapping his communication bracer.

“Nyine, this better be worth it,” he said, his massive chest heaving with the need to draw more oxygen into his system. He lifted his arms and cracked the seal of his helmet, pulling the claustrophobic device from his head, releasing the pent up heat into the frigid atmosphere. His nearly-shaved scalp seemed to steam in the darkness. He savored the cold for a few long moments.

This commlink chirped, and he tapped at his wrist again, grumbling something about the need for consistent technology throughout the military. He donned his helmet quickly, and tried to listen for the message, but it was cut off with a burst of static. He swore, and started to move a little quicker.

“Ex 2, AP. Situation?” he asked with a hurried, annoyed tone. His target was only a couple hundred meters away, but only as the crow flew. In this urban environment, the twisting and circuitous paths and alleyways defined the speed of movement. The commlink buzzed with static once more.

“Jamming,” he muttered. They knew Excidium agents were in the area, it would seem. He came to a crossroad, his target on the other side of a two-storey building. He slipped through the front door, what little remained of it, and strode through the debris, picking his way through.

“Pro Patria,” he whispered hoarsely through one of the rear windows. HIs heart pounded in his chest for a few moments, before the response came.

“Patria Mori,” the Aedile replied, pushing the door open for the massive Shaevalian to step through. Archangel moved gingerly, careful not to knock his head or shoulders against the door frame. He turned to his Aedile and nodded.

“We’re being jammed. I think they may have caught a part of your last transmission. We probably should consider ourselves compromised. Is this mission worth it?”


Jorm stirred on a makeshift cot in a rundown garage in the undisputably worst part of town when his earpiece chirped. He listened to Rosh’s short message and decided it was worth getting up for. Everything’s better than reserve duty.
That was what he was deemed fit for. Too unpredictable to employ in a tightly coordinated frontline; too proficient in bloodshed and intimate with piracy to leave him to his own devices. That was why he waited hidden away in this garage, next to a muffled speeder bike with saddlebags full of supplies and munitions - to serve as cavalry or relief if his bosses deemed it necessary.

But no longer. His Aedile had called, and Jorm wasn’t inclined to ignore him. He quickly donned leather jacket and gloves, thumbed the garage door opener, and started the bike. The modifications reduced the noise to barely more than a whisper, even before he put his helmet on. By the time the door was open, the handlebar nav had calculated a route.

He checked the route. Then he glanced at the streets, void of life in the frigid night. After remotely closing the garage behind him, he kicked the bike’s drive into action and forced himself to adhere to the speed limit anyway.
He was well on his way when the wail of sirens alerted him to the presence of the local authorities. More than one vehicle. He pulled over when he saw their flashing lights in the mirror, and prepared for the worst.

Though his hands remained on the handlebar, his mind raced to the thermal detonators under his jacket. He turned in his seat to watch the convoy. From what he could make out, it was crewed by the human-sized minority of Mygeeto - no surprise considering the pacifist nature of the indigenous Lurmen.

A side window scrolled down, and visored eyes locked onto Jorm’s faceplate, then wandered over his bike, resting on the slogan and insignia of a local food delivery service printed on the bike’s cargo box. The prying eyes disappeared behind the window again. The convoy moved on without bothering him, headed for the city’s outskirts and away from Jorm’s destination.

He reached the house without further incident and withdrew a square box from the bike, leaving his helmet behind before he knocked.
“Helloooooooo, someone ordered a large Bantha Bacon Pizza here?” The door opened without hesitation.
On the other side, he found himself grinning into Archangel’s blaster muzzle. The titanic man swore in some foreign language before he switched back to basic.
“Damn it Rosh, why do you have me play the spy game with code phrases and crap, and he gets in with a large pizza!?”
“Family size,” Jorm interjected.
The slightest hint of a smile sneaked into Rosh’s blank expression. “It’s not that Jorm doesn’t have code phrases. It’s just that I know to kill him on sight when he uses them. Safe sign for an impostor.”

Jorm stepped around Arch and dropped onto the couch, helping himself to a slice of pizza as he did.“So,” he pressed out between bites, “the law is out in force. Heading for the outskirts. Any idea what went wrong?”


“The pirates,” the massive Sith Warlord said, hunkering down on a pile of detritus, a quarter of the pizza dwarfed in his hands, “They’re why we’re here, aren’t they?”

He took a large bite out of the savory, oily portion. He seared the top of his mouth in the bacony goodness, but he resisted the urge to splutter and swear. It would not be dignified. Instead he chewed laboriously, giving off every sign of enjoying the sumptuous feast. Jorm shook his head ruefully, knowing the large man too well to be taken in by his antics.

“The pirates are a bunch of bastards,” he said, as eloquent as ever, “But Excidium are more bastardly than they are!”

Rosh looked up at Jorm, the icons on his datapad casting a cool blue glow over his features.

“You may want to try that sentence again, Jorm,” he said, with a chuckle. Archangel let out of a huff, which a more impolite person might have misconstrued as a laugh, and continued to inhale the cheesy mess. Jorm looked askance at Rosh, feigning hurt. The theatrics ended a moment later, as their commlinks simultaneously let out a peal of static.

“What was that?” Archangel said, a hunk of pizza part way to his mouth. Rosh glared at the figures on his datapad, stabbing viciously at them as he tried to track down the source of the transmission, whatever it was. Jorm let out a curse, and shook his head.

“Satellite’s fwecced,” he said, checking his weapons with a methodic motion borne of a habit, and a love of living which had rarely been surpassed, “And the jammer is zeroing in on any transmissions it can pick up.”

Rosh let out a similar curse to Jorms, and lets his datapad fall as he stood, though it swung on a band clipped to his shoulder. He too readied his weapons, his head tilted as if listening to the sounds around them. Archangel took a last, longing look at his pizza before casting it aside and rising, towering over the other two men.

“How far are we from the crash site?” he asked, his lightsaber materialising in his hand. An echo of leather on stone and a muttered curse wafted over the nearby walls. The trio turned quickly, staring at the wall between them and whatever had made the noise.

“Looks like we’ll find out soon,” Jorm said, brandishing a slugthrower, and a chromed sphere which looked suspiciously like a thermal detonator.


Alara ran through the streets with her saber trailing behind her. She hadn’t been in contact with the others for quite some time. Like her teammates, she figured that the jammer had to be nearby. She looked left and right, but the urban landscape was desolate around her. She sped through the streets until she hit her destination, the downtown area. Sweat from the exertion and from the anxiety fell from her brow. Naga Sadow’s scum could be anywhere. She wouldn’t let that fear stop her though. She looked up at the five story building before her and spotted something suspicious It was tall, about the height of three men, and aimed directly towards the sky above. It almost looked like an ancient satellite dish or something.

That’s got to be the jammer.

Alara Deathbane raced towards the doors of the building where it was perched and crashed through the glass. Nobody around yet. She assumed they must be at the top to guard the jammer, but to also hide out of plain sight. She took the turbo lift up and checked her telecom again to make sure she wasn’t missing on anything. The telecom’s screen whizzed and crackled.

“Damn, still nothing. Whatever. This will be over soon,” she muttered to herself. After a few breaths the turbolift opened. The Knight held her saber at the ready, and smirked as she sighted the Naga Sadow Warhost They spun around at the noise and let out quick gasps. She gave a quick chuckle and stepped out onto the roof.

“Well hello there idiots. Thought you could fool us eh? It’s pretty damn obvious what you’re doing with that big ass stick pointing upwards. Doesn’t matter now. I’m taking it down and you with it,” before they could speak, Alara lept towards them and began her slaughter rampage.


Getting up from his seat and cleaning some of the dust from his uniform, still wondering if he should have drunk more before calling the craziest, and probably best, members from his House, Rosh stared at the wall raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. Enemies.

Knowing that his team liked to do things quick and dirty, he didn’t have to think much about how to approach this situation, so he gestured with a nod towards the wall, raised two fingers, pointed Jorm, clenched his fist and then pointed at the wall.

Jorm, still chewing some pizza, stared at him, slugthrower in his hands.

“Jorm?” asked the Imperialist returning the stare.

“Yeah, we go or not?” Jorm replied with a smile.

The huge figure of Archangel shook his head slightly. “He just told you by signs to bomb that wall, so get to it.” the Juggernaut snapped in disbelief.

“Ah, right. Hold on…” Jorm quickly answered, examining the wall. “Wait, nine feet tall, around two feet wide. I got this.”

Rosh readied himself igniting his lightsaber and moving quickly towards the shadows, letting the Force help him to embrace them. Archangel was born ready. Jorm just got his hands in his pockets.

A small plastic explosive with a detonator appeared in Jorm’s hand. “At the count of three. One… two…” The plastic explosive flew to the other side to the room, sticking itself against the wall. Just a moment later, the explosive detonated, just a small boom that didn’t look like it had done anything. The explosion was so well controlled though that a few cracks started appearing seconds later. Cracks that expanded slowly and across the wall until it crumbled into a mess of dust and rubble. On the other side, a group of Naga Sadow troopers were frozen in place, staring with open eyes at the hole that had just been opened next to them.

Rosh was like an inaudible shadow, invisible for the troopers as he followed the line of the walls to reach to them. Arch was just standing still, looking at them. An emerald glow lighted the room as he ignited his lightsaber with a loud “Hmm…” as his only expression. Jorm smirked.

“Guys, I think we’ve not been properly introduced. I’m Jorm, nice to meet you. Now, this big guy here is Arch…” started saying the demolitions expert before Archangel ran across the room and decapitated the first of the troopers, still confused. “…angel,” finished Jorm. “Ah, and there’s also Rosh, you might not see him but well, he sees you.”

The Aedile of Excidium appeared behind the troops, stabbing one of the troopers with his lightsaber through his chest and cutting the neck of another one with the blade in his other hand.

The frozen troopers started to react by raising their assault blaster rifles, but they were cut off by a single motion of Archangel’s arm and his lightsaber.

Jorm started laughing. “Oh, well. Now that we know each other, time to die,” continued Jorm raising his slugthrower and peppering the remaining troopers with fine aimed shots at their heads.

Archangel spoke without even turning to Jorm. “Didn’t anybody tell you that you talk too much?”

Jorm shrugged, holstered his slugthrower and started walking over to the trooper corpses, kneeling down next to the one with the fanciest insignia and touching the dead man.

“Those guys really haven’t improved since I left Naga Sadow,” Rosh mused.

“Your face shows up in their mission briefing. Damn, did they take that holo after a rainstorm?” Jorm added. Rosh suppressed the urge to whack the Kiffar over the head, letting him do his thing instead.
“Gotcha. They were directed here after someone spotted Arch. They’ve been sent to interfere with whatever we do and keep us the hell away from a vehicle column.”

Arch snorted. “Seems like they have found the shuttle first, and are securing the artifacts now. Where are they going and by what route?

The men watched Jorm furrow his brow and dig through a dead man’s memories, digging for details. “A dozen streets from here. Going to the small spaceport for pickup. Here’s also a notion that they’ve bribed Law Enforcement into assisting them. Pansies.”

Rosh nodded. “Let’s go, team. Time to wreak havoc, and I bet our girl is having fun on her own,” Rosh whispered, still amazed about the off-handed destructive power of Excidium.


Before one soldier could even open fire, the human male was on the ground in a pool of blood. The others however, were slightly quicker. She did a quick and graceful side flip in the air and sliced off a Rodian’s arm that had his blaster already shot in the wrong direction. The Rodian howled in pain. With a quick swipe to the jugular, Alara ended his misery whilst kicking another human off the roof. One more to go. She spotted her at the jammer’s base, trying to communicate with the rest of the clan. The Twi’lek was a lovely shade of pink, but would soon have a tinted shade of red just like the others. Instead of aiming with a blaster, this Naga Sadow member decided to activate her red saber .

“I’m here to get rid of that jammer and remove whatever stands in my way,” Alara addressed the Twi’lek, “Right now darlin, that’s you. So get out of my way or you’ll join your little friends in the galaxies.” Alara warned. She wasn’t sure in her mind why she even gave the privilege of a second chance, but she went with it anyway.

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” the Twi’lek repositioned herself, lifted her fingers off of the saber in her grasp and placed them back again.

“Alrighty. You were so pretty though. Shame really,” Alara sighed and went in for the strike, lightsaber lifted in the air. The Twi’lek managed to catch Alara’s saber with hers, but her arm shook with the impact. Alara’s smile grew as she focused most of her energy towards her striking arm. The Twi’lek continued to shake as tears began to form in her eyes. Alara pushed harder. Right when the Twi’lek’s grasp was going to collapse, Alara used her left hand and stabbed her with a dagger right to the stomach. The Twi’lek let out a yelp. She released her saber and collapsed to the ground. Before Alara went to finish her work, she stepped onto the Twi’lek’s neck and silenced her forever.

“Well, that was a little easy,” she smiled to herself. She went up to the jammer’s screen and stabbed her dagger right into it. The jammer buzzed, fried, and let out a few sparks, but shut down seconds afterwards. Immediately Alara’s telecom lit up with messages from the others.

“Howdy boys, long time no chat,” Alara mused through her telecom.

“Was that you, ‘Lara?” Rosh replied with question.

“You know it. Now where is everyone? We have some booty to grab.”

“No. You’ll slap me again, I’m sure. Fool me seven times, shame on you. Fool me eight times, shame on me!” Jorm mused over the telecom.
Alara could practically hear Elincia Rei rolling her eyes with her sigh through the telecom, “We are over in the North side of the city. We will start walking down town to meet you.”

“Sounds like a plan. Meet you there.”


Their journey had become an arduous trek, each meter taken only with spilled blood and fallen bodies. The Sadows, and their Law Enforcement lackeys, had converged on them like hornets to a kill. Several heavily armed squads of Sadow troops had already succumbed to the Scholae advance. The law fared little better, and their fast response speeder, which until recently had been the pride of the local unit’s fleet, was now smoldering two streets behind the Scholae unit. The remaining half was burned and gauged, strangely spherical, in a way that only a thermal detonator could create.

“I could’ve taken it,” Archangel said, the grime, sweat and blood staining his face not hiding the scowl he sported. Jorm grinned up at the lumbering man, cheerfulness exuding from every damnable pore.

“Early bird catches the worm,” he jeered, his elbow pinging uselessly off the ceramic of the Warlord’s armor. Archangel glared down at the young marauder, but let his focus shift back to the task at hand. He ran his armored gauntlet over his face, trying in vain to wick away the soot and sweat. The blood, thankfully, wasn’t his, but as it dried, it became sticky and readily collected particles of dust and smoke.

“How much further?” he asked, wishing for a nice clean towel or his helmet, long since discarded in the vicious street-to-street fighting. He resolved instead to pour a hefty portion of water of his head, letting the frigid liquid wash away at least the top layer of grime and cool his overheated body. In a cold environment such as this, heavy armor could be a blessing and curse.

“Two more streets,” Rosh replied, his datapad glowing warmly as the map display gave him a better idea of their location. The group moved forward carefully, moving from cover to cover, taking care to watch for ambushes, trips, or snipers. Since the speeder had met its end at the hands of Jorm, the situation had cooled significantly.

Rosh grunted, as they moved past an alleyway, and frowned.

“We need to scout ahead,” he said simply, before disappearing down the alley and into the darkness. Jorm and Archangel watched on, partly with annoyance, and partly in interest as to what the man was planning. Their questions were answered a moment later when the revving of a speeder bike engine split the stillness of the air. Jorm chuckled to himself, and they pushed onward.

“Where are they?” Jorm muttered under his breath, a few moments later. The marauder seemed to have lost some of his cheerful demeanor and instead exhibited annoyed impatience. He seemed… worried.

As if responding to the question, a sniper bolt split the air between the group, slamming into a store facade and setting it alight. The sniper fired a few more times, but the team had already taken cover. The fire was coming from an upper story of what appeared to be a residential hub.

“Can you get a shot?” Archangel asked, hoping Jorm had brought more than a couple thermal detonators. Jorm hefted a length of steel rebar, measuring its weight, and seemed to be considering the distance and angles. He took a peek over his piece of cover, what appeared to be a frozen dessert service cart.

“I think I can get him…”

Suddenly, however, the firing stopped. All the team could hear was their labored breaths and the slight tinnitus that comes from being shot at. Jorm snuck another look, but saw nothing that gave a reason for the change.

“Hey guys,” Alara’s voice called over the commlink, “I found a sniper. Took him out. How far are you from the spaceport?”

Jorm’s expression dropped immediately, and he took on the air of a kicked puppy. Archangel almost felt sorry for the marauder. Almost.


Jorm shook his head in disappointment and shouldered the length of rebar. He vowed to use it later on something even less lucky than the dead, luckless sniper.
“Lara, what can you see from up there?” he asked into the air, trusting his comm to relay the question to the young woman.

“Rooftops.” The girl’s all too chipper answer lured a chuckle out of Archangel’s throat, but she continued before Jorm could capitalize on it. “But not too far. Two, three streets, then an open space. With a lot of light, I might add. Maybe Rosh has his eyes on the ground?”

“I have,” the Aedile cut in, his voice barely a whisper in the ether. “Two streets ahead, one to the right. It’s the local spaceport, or whatever passes for it. I’ve seen bigger parking lots in this hole of a town.” A short break. “They have a light freighter here and start loading the artifacts. Now or never, gentlemen.”

Jorm cheered. “Yay! Only thing better than hard, honest work is having someone else do it, and then cheat him out of the profits.” Archangel at his side took another sip from his canteen, suppressing a comment. Rosh continued his whispers.

“Alara, I know you know the front end of a blaster from the back end. Take that rifle off the sniper and take up position on the roofs next to the spaceport. Arch, Jorm… you two are the least subtle warhounds one can ask for. Join up with me.”

Not two minutes later, Jorm and Arch peeked around a corner and called dibs on their targets. “I’ll take the ship, you guys take everything else,” Jorm opened the bid. Rosh shook his head. “You won’t possibly make it that far. I sneak in there and take the ship.” Archangel grunted. “Sorry boss, but I see at least one cloak-and-saber type out there. If they spot you, that ship is gone. They’ll spot Jorm right away for sure, but he’s faster.”

Jorm smiled innocently at Rosh, knowing that Archangel’s assessment was probably right. The younger human muttered a curse. “What do you suggest then, Jorm?”
“Straight-forward badassery. You take that bike and chuck grenades everywhere, Arch just does his thing, and ‘lara shoots at everything that even looks my way.”

“You just want to charge?” Rosh sighed.
“Got a better plan?” Jorm retorted. Arch just silently checked the seals of his gauntlets. On the spaceport, what looked like the last crate of artifacts was carted to the waiting freighter.Resigned, Rosh mounted the bike.

They came out of the dark alley like mynocks out of an asteroid cave. Rosh gunned the engine and set course for the parked Sadowan and Law Enforcement vehicles, throwing grenades like confetti, while Arch started into an impressive sprint towards whom he presumed were Force Users. Jorm delayed his own start for a second, shifted the rebar in his grip, and then launched himself right at the freighter.

Explosions from his right and the buzz and glow of lightsabers spiked his adrenaline, and with negligible effort he set the Force to course through his body and accelerate him even further. People left and right could not turn in time as he sped by, violating the city’s speed limits on foot. Soldiers ahead ducked and rolled when orange bolts passed over Jorm’s head and struck between them.

One soldier by the ramp stood his ground, jamming his fist on the access console in an attempt to close the ship to the approaching Palatinaean. Jorm arched his arm back, and threw the rebar with both force and Force. The makeshift spear violently jammed into one of two closing mechanisms, blocking the entire hatch, and then Jorm was through and ignited his lightsaber.

Out on the field, Rosh rolled off the bike when a Sadowan dark Jedi meddled with the controls from afar. Coming up to his feet, the Aedile drew his lightsaber and engaged the threat. Alara, still back on the rooftops, shifted her fire towards the Sadowan who deflected a few bolts, until Rosh reached out through the Force and suffocated his link to the supernatural. Weakened by the mental assault, the Sadowan did not parry the next salvo. Rosh went looking for new targets.

Archangel had fun in the meantime. The Sadowan Sith he had found was flung around like a ragdoll by the Shaevalian’s powerful strikes. A grenade here and there, acquired from Jorm’s seemingly bottomless saddlebags, kept the mundanes on their toes and out of his short hair. When he heard the whine of powerful engines, he sundered his opponent with a few vicious strikes and glanced at the freighter.

Even from afar, the grinning visage in the illuminated cockpit was unmistakeable. Mustering his impressive reserves, he launched into another augmented sprint, leaving behind a mess of shrapnel and body parts, and lunged up into the freighter’s still blocked hatch, where Rosh greeted him with a nod. Arch pushed the last crate deeper into the bowels of the ship, ignoring the carnage Jorm had caused in here, while Rosh busied himself with the blocked hatch mechanism.

A short flight brought the freighter up to rooftop level, and Alara boarded in the same fashion as Arch had moments before. Rosh gave up on tinkering with the mechanism and just cut it away, hoping that the remaining one would suffice. The intercom crackled.“Welcome aboard Excidium Spacelines flight zero-zero-one. We are now leaving Mygeeto. Should you wish to spit on that frozen dirtball, the last chance was thirty seconds ago!”


As with all missions conducted by Excidium, the execution was frenetic, wild, out of control, yet effective.The one who set the mission in the first place had received no contact through its entirety. If the moff had sent any other team, she may have been concerned, but Excidium never played by the rules. There was no reason to assume anything terrible had happened to the team, that their communications had been blocked by jamming signals, and every reason to believe that the team never cared much for remote assistance. With Excidium, a combination of multiple explanations was always the most likely.

Aboard Excidium Spacelines flight zero-zero-one, Rosh looked over his team’s haul as the freighter sped away from the surface of Mygeeto, towards the safety of the Dark Paladin in deep space. “Good work, gentlemen. The Emperor will be pleased with Excidium’s performance today. I will see to it that we are sufficiently rewarded.” After the performance of Excidium during the Subterfuge incident, it was imperative that the unit achieved success on Mygeeto to prove their worth to the Empire

For the team, their mission was complete, their role in the feud completed successfully and without major incident. A million miles away, Elincia’s terminal bleeped. “Mygeeto low altitude, unmarked freighter. ExcSec channel, encrypted code 840847. Message to Elincia Rei. Mission success. All crates have been successfully recovered. Team is leaving Mygeeto. Rosh out.” It was typical that the first she would hear of the state of the mission is after the carnage has been caused and the objective completed. Usually, the less known about their methods, the better.

“Return to Judecca as soon as possible. The Emperor will want to examine the contents before anyone else hears of your success.”