[SAGA] Star Wars - Resurgence of Darkness

[Beretta]

STAR WARS – RESURGENCE OF DARKNESS

INTRODUCTION​

Well, this is my first attempt at writing up a campaign in a story format. I have wanted to do this before, inspired as I was many years ago by having read several extremely enjoyable campaign write-ups in the Story Hour forums, but my party sizes were large and I found the thought of doing so quite daunting. Now, with a group of four and the more cinematic feel of the SAGA rules system, I have found it easier to get started this time.

* * *


A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

Episode XVI

Resurgence of Darkness

Since the fateful Battle of Endor twelve years ago, which saw the death of
the Emperor and the destruction of the Galactic Empire, the benevolent
influence of the New Republic has continued to spread across the galaxy.

The Empire - a mere shadow of its former might - has been forced back to
the Outer Rim Territories. Though most of what remains of the Empire is
unified under the leadership of Grand Admiral Gilad Pellaeon, other
rebellious warlords have established their own dominions of power.

These warlords fight amongst themselves, the Imperial Remnant, and the
New Republic for control of the Rim Territories. The outer reaches of the
galaxy are on the verge of becoming the focus of a new conflict...​

The Jedi Academy

Against the starry backdrop of space, a small blue and green moon orbits the massive bulk of a red gas giant. A tramp freighter streaks towards the satellite, the bluish-white flare of its ion drives blazing as it approaches Yavin IV.

Upon the moon, three robed humans wait on the edge of a serviceable landing pad, surrounded on three sides by a verdant green jungle alive with the twitter and song of native wildlife. On the remaining side stands the imposing stone façade of an ancient Massassi temple – the Jedi Academy. More of the structures can be seen beyond the first; a mute testimony to a long-vanished civilisation.

The foremost amongst the waiting figures is a human of middle-years, his grey-streaked hair tied back into a pony-tail. Clad in simple brown and off-white robes with the hood thrown back over broad shoulders, there is nothing remarkable about the man save for the ornate, long-handled metallic cylinder attached to his utility belt. Flanking him and standing a respectful one pace back are two younger humans; one male, one female. They both appeared to be in their late teens, and are similarly clad in unremarkable brown and off-white robes; each also has an intricate metallic cylinder clipped to their utility belts, though they are but half the length of that which is carried by the older man.

The high-pitched whine of a repulsorlift engine precedes the appearance of a tramp freighter from over the edge of the jungle canopy. It sets down gently upon the landing pad, the engines of the battered space transport dying away as one end of an access ramp slowly lowers to the ground. The vessel is old and has seen better days; its patchwork hull is pockmarked with numerous dents and scratches. Here and there carbon scoring has been burnt into the durasteel plating from near misses of laser-fire.

Two figures emerge from the transport and make their way over to the waiting trio. The first is a tall man with a lean and wiry build. Long dark brown hair with the slightest wave reaches down loosely to his shoulders. Pale blue, deep set eyes warily take in the nearby surroundings, one hand never straying too far from the blaster that rides in a quick-draw holster on his right hip.

His companion is only a few steps behind, his cold gaze scanning the area alertly. Shorter and stockier than the first figure and wearing light body armour, he also keeps his hand close to the heavy blaster strapped to his thigh. With his shaven head and scarred face, he appears to be little more than a brutish pit fighter; yet in his eyes there gleams a cunning intelligence.

“Captain Khail Strorm of the Bellerophon?” asks the eldest of the waiting trio.

The first of the new arrivals nods. “Yes, and this is my co-pilot, Fenri Skirata. You must be Jedi Master Lor-Zan Magnus.”

“Indeed.” Lor-Zan gestures to his younger companions. “These are my padawan learners - Cyan Voss and Thalo Karn. They will be accompanying me on the journey to Ord Mantell. The fee already paid to you has covered the cost of their travel.”

Khail shrugs indifferently. “Fenri here will show you to your quarters. If you can please follow him, I will oversee the unloading of the cargo.”

Lor-Zan inclines his head slightly. “Of course, captain.” The Jedi Master turns to Khail’s companion. “Fenri, please lead the way.”

With the Jedi Academy’s supply cargo unloaded and the passengers aboard, Khail settles back into the pilots couch in the Bellerophon’s cockpit. Fenri is already in the co-pilots seat finalising the pre-flight checks and the warming up of the sub-light drives. Engaging the repulsor engines, the ship lifts off from the landing pad and accelerates away from Yavin IV.

Fenri keys the astrogation co-ordinates for the Ord Mantell system into the navicomp and turns to Khail. “Ready for the jump to hyperspace.”

Khail pulls back on the hyperspace levers, and the starlines flare as the Bellerophon jumps to lightspeed.

“I’ll go and see how our passengers are settling in,” Fenri growls as he gets up from the co-pilots seat, nodding once in acknowledgement as he passes Lor-Zan, who is just entering the cockpit. The Jedi Master moves up to stand beside Khail, but does not sit down.

“Captain, what’s our ETA to Ord Mantell?”

Khail glances over at the navicomputer. “Approximately three days.”

Lor-Zan nods. “When we arrive in the system, land the ship at the settlement of Great Rock. I have some matters to attend to in that area.”

If Khail is surprised that the Jedi Master has business at or near such a shady, lawless backwater settlement, it doesn’t register on his features.

A short period of uncomfortable silence passes as Khail continues to busy himself with the ships diagnostic and system readouts. “Forgive me for saying so,” the Jedi Master interrupts, “but you and Fenri don’t appear to be the type that would work for the New Republic.”

“We’re not,” Khail replies bluntly, not taking his eyes off his task. “It is a simple job and we needed the credits quickly. I doubt it’s something we’ll be making a habit of.”

Lor-Zan smiles thinly. “I see. What of Fenri? Does he share your opinion?”
Khail shakes his head, and this time does turn to the Jedi Master with a cold look in his eyes. “I don’t speak for him. If you want to know what he thinks, go ask him.”

“I apologise. I did not wish to pry – in fact, what you do and the jobs you take are of no concern to me. I was merely wishing to make conversation. I’ll leave you to your work.”

The Jedi Master makes his way out of the cockpit as Khail turns his attention back to the ship’s monitors and the readouts that scroll across their screens.


Rendezvous at Ord Mantell

The journey through hyperspace passes uneventfully. Khail and Fenri busy themselves about the ship while the Jedi passengers entertain themselves with games of holo-chess in the small rec-room.

A few days after their departure from Yavin IV, the proximity alarm starts to beep throughout the freighter, signifying their imminent arrival in the Ord Mantell system.

Getting a grip on the hyperdrive levers, Khail watches the timer count down. "Stand by the sublight engines." The counter hits zero, and he eases the levers forward. Outside the Bellerophon’s canopy, the mottled sky of hyperspace turns to starlines, which collapse into stars.

Ahead, twin moons orbit a multi-hued planet, massive clouds streaking its atmosphere. Khail fires up the sublight drives and sets a course for the settlement of Great Rock. As the planet looms closer, the ships comm. begins to beep. Fenri keys the switch and a tired voice comes through the speaker.

“Unidentified freighter, this is Ord Mantell Starport Authority. Please transmit your destination and transponder codes for verification.”

“Acknowledged, Starport Authority,” Fenri replies. “Destination is Great Rock. Transmitting transponder codes now.”

A few moments pass, and the voice of the starport control officer returns. “Bellerophon, you are cleared to land at Great Rock, landing zone 2. Welcome to Ord Mantell.”

Fenri kills the comm. channel as Khail brings the ship in to land. The settlement of Great Rock is spread out before them, a cluster of ramshackle buildings amidst a maze of haphazard streets. Khail has visited the settlement once before as part of one of his ‘business’ deals, and he is only too aware that here, possession is nine-tenths of the law. If you don’t have the strength to hold on to your goods, your credits, or your life, you are liable to be parted from all three.

After putting the ship down, Khail and Fenri join the passengers in the rec-room where Lor-Zan is speaking with his students.

“I must apologise,” he says, “but I have decided that it would be better if I are to go on this part the journey alone. The individual I seek values their privacy and anonymity very highly. It would not do to put this person off-side unnecessarily.”

The padawans nod. “Yes, master,” they echo in unison.

“I expect that this matter will take two, possibly three days at most for me to resolve,” the Jedi Master continues. “In the meantime, perhaps you might like to wander about the settlement – it has been several years since you have been away from the confines of the Academy. I’ll be back in a few days. Please try to stay out of trouble.”

“Any longer than a few days and you’ll be liable for the extra starport fees,” Khail mutters.

As Lor-Zan departs the ship, Fenri turns to the smuggler. “I’ve no intention of staying cooped up in here for any longer than I have to. Know of any good places where I can get a drink?”

“Yeah, I can think of one,” Khail replies. “Qexi’s.” He turns to the two Jedi students. “Are you two allowed to drink? If so, you’re welcome to join us.”

Thalo, not wishing to stay aboard the ship any longer either, shrugs. “Sure. Lead the way.”

The group departs the Bellerophon and exits the sorry excuse for a starport at which they have landed. Alert and ready for trouble, they make their way down the streets of Great Rock, the distrustful eyes of passers-by warily following their progress.

Qexi’s isn’t far from the spaceport. The cantina’s flickering neon sign and grubby exterior telegraph the quality of clientele the establishment caters to. Carbon scoring mars the building’s walls, evidence of violent disagreements that have spilled out of the bar and into the street.

It isn’t until they have entered the dingy cantina that they realize just how much of a dive it really is. Dim lighting reveals patrons for whom the description ‘dregs of the galaxy’ is a compliment. Most of the customers are Human, though a number of Rodians, Sullustans, Bothans, and even a pair of Trandoshans are present as well. They eye the group suspiciously as they make their way over to the bar.

“What’s everyone having?” Khail asks.

“I’ll have a beer,” Fenri replies.

“Make that two,” says Thalo.

Cyan smiles. “Water for me thanks.”

Fenri rolls his eyes as Khail turns back to the bartender. “Three beers and a glass of water.”

“That’ll be 10 credits, friend.”

Khail tosses the chips onto the bar. When the drinks arrive, they head over to an empty booth. Khail and Fenri slide into the seats after the two Jedi, keeping one wary eye on the rest of the bar and covering each other’s backs.

To their surprise, they have barely settled in when a young woman slides an empty chair over to their table. They didn’t see her come in, and she isn’t dressed like a local - in fact, her clothes looked pretty expensive, though they are spotted with mud and torn in several places. Recent bruises and scrapes are evident on her exposed skin.

Before anyone can say a word, she puts a finger to her lips and glances furtively across the room. Then she turns back to them and says in a low voice, “Interested in helping a girl in trouble?”

Khail scowls. “Could be – depends on how much it pays. Why?”

“I’m a visitor to this world, and I seem to have fallen afoul of the local crime element. I could use some help getting back to my ship.” Her gaze drops helplessly to the table. “I can’t pay you anything now - I have no credits on me - but I can promise a reward of 750 credits apiece as soon as I get to my ship. If you’re interested, we need to get started right away.” The girl looks back up at the group imploringly. “Can you help me? Please?”

“For 750 creds each? Sure, I’m in.” The smuggler eyes the girls dishevelled appearance with obvious skepticism. “You damn well better have that money, though.”

Fenri nods. “No problem.” He turns to the Jedi. “What about you two?”

“Of course we’ll help,” replies Cyan.

“How far out is your ship?” Thalo asks. “We’re expecting our master to return from his trip in a few days – I don’t want to be somewhere else when he is expecting us to be here.”

“It’s not far,” the girl responds. Anything further she is about to say is cut short as two menacing individuals stalk into the bar, each with one hand on the butt of the blaster thrust through their belt. One of the thugs peers around the cantina and its patrons, clearly looking for someone. The other makes his way over to the bar and starts speaking to the bartender in a low voice.

“Friends of yours?” Fenri asks the girl with a smirk.

“Some of the local crime lord’s goons, I think," she replies in worried tones. "I was captured by them outside of town. I… I think they were going to sell me to slavers or something. I managed to escape but I guess they’re not willing to let me go that easily.”

Thalo fumbles at the clasp of his all-weather cloak. “Then they’re probably looking for you,” he says to the girl. “Quick, put this on and try to conceal yourself.”

“Too late,” warns Khail, who has been watching the proceedings at the bar. The thug deposits a small pile of credit chips onto the bartop, and the bartender points over to the booth where they are all seated.

“Hey, over here,” the goon snarls to his companion. The pair draw their blasters and approach the group. The cantina’s other patrons begin drifting towards the exit or else duck under their tables, clearly not wanting to get involved in a situation that appears likely to escalate into a violent confrontation.

“Just give us the girl and this needn’t get ugly,” snarls the thug that spoke to the bartender.

Leaning back in the chair, Khail smiles. “The situation got ugly as soon as you two got involved.”

“Oh, we’ve got a real smart-mouth here,” sneers the thug. “Time to teach you a lesson, wise-guy.” He raises his pistol and fires, but Khail is already diving away from his chair and the stun blast passes harmlessly overhead. His companion fires as well, but Fenri is not as quick to react. Fortunately, his body-armour absorbs the brunt of the stun bolt that slams into him.

Khail hits the floor and rolls, his own blaster coming up. The thug who fired at him quickly side-steps and Khail’s shot burns into the bar behind him. The bartender quickly ducks down behind it in fear.

Fenri grunts and grits his teeth in pain from the hit he had taken. “That’s going to cost you,” he snarls, levelling his blaster at the thug. The resulting shot punches a smoking hole through the man’s chest. As he slumps lifelessly to the ground, Thalo and Cyan both stand up from the booth, lightsabers in hand. The emerald and azure blades stand out brightly against the cantina’s dim lighting as they spring to life with a hiss.

“What the hell?” curses the first thug as he upends a nearby table for cover, sending bottles and glasses spilling away across the floor. Switching off the stun setting, he again triggers his blaster but the shot is hurried and nervous, scorching the wall of the booth behind Khail. The smuggler returns fire, but merely melts a crater into the table’s surface. Fenri shifts his aim to their remaining assailant, but his shot also impacts harmlessly against the upended table.

The thug leaps backwards in fear as Cyan charges in, and a sweep of her lightsaber shears the table in half. The air quickly fills with the acrid smell of melting plastisteel.

Stepping forward, Thalo opens himself up to the Force and reaches out towards the thug’s mind, making a strange gesture with his free hand as he says, “Surrender yourself and ask for mercy.”

A strange sensation flows through the thug, and he comes to the sudden realisation that the Jedi’s suggestion is the only sensible course of action to take. “I surrender!” the man cries, throwing down his blaster. “Please don’t kill me!”

Thalo indicates the dead man, wisps of smoke still rising from the corpse’s chest. “Take your friend and get out of here.”

The thug grabs his fallen comrade under the arms and begins dragging him towards the cantina’s entrance. “I’ll be telling my boss what you did here,” he snarls defiantly. “You’re all going to pay!”

The young woman and those patrons still remaining in the bar emerge from where they had taken cover, now that the incident appears to be over.

“Time for us to get out of here before he comes back with more friends,” Khail suggests as he picks up the dropped blasters.

The woman at the center of the trouble rejoins her rescuers. “Thanks for saving me,” she gushes gratefully. “In all the excitement I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself. I’m Renei Tosh.”

The group introduce themselves and head for the exit.

“Hey!” the bartender calls after them. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He gestures towards the wrecked table and several blaster holes in the walls and bar. “Who’s going to pay for these damages, huh?”

“I think that bribe the thug paid you ought to cover it,” Khail replies over his shoulder as they walk out of the cantina and into the streets of Great Rock.

 

[Beretta]

GM's Commentary

Overall, it was a fun start with the first session.

I was initially disturbed at the strength of the Mind Trick Force Power after it was used on the cantina thug. NPC Will Defense scores are always on the low side, making them particularly susceptible to this ability. Thinking ahead to future encounters, it seemed too easy to Mind Trick, say, an Imperial Officer into throwing down his weapon and ordering his squad of Stormtroopers (or other underlings) to surrender. While I didn’t want to nerf the ability into uselessness in combat situations, there needed to be some situational modifiers if such an attempt was to be made. As a result, the first house-rule is that the Use the Force check will be adjusted using the Intimidation modifiers under the Persuasion Skill. So while the above example is still (regrettably) possible, it will be slightly harder to achieve. I suppose I could simply have the squad ignore their superior’s commands but I’d rather not make that a common occurrence.

We didn’t use the battlemap for combats as I wanted to ease everyone (myself included) into the new rules set. While it’s very much like D&D, there are still many differences to consider. Down the track I will use it more often, as I must confess to having trouble properly visualising encounters in my head and keeping track of ranges, character/NPC positions etc. With a battlemap, it’s all there and clearly laid out clearly so I can concentrate on other things.

With regards to combat and xp, I have decided to simply award a flat rate at the end of each chapter/adventure. This way I can control the party’s rate of advancement. I base this value on the xp that would have been awarded if every encounter was defeated. If they miss an encounter through careful planning or luck, I don’t feel it necessary to punish the group so the flat xp rate works well. Also, by not linking xp to NPC deaths, I am hoping that other means of ‘defeating’ an encounter become more attractive (stealth, deception etc) as they won’t be missing out on any xp rewards by not killing their foes.

I thought I'd add in a who's who of the campaign:

Khail Strorm - Human Scoundrel 1
Fenri Skirata - Human Soldier 1
Cyan Voss - Human Jedi 1
Thalo Karn - Human Jedi 1

Lor-Zan Magnuss - Human Jedi ?? (NPC)

 

[Beretta]

On the Trail

Outside the town, Renei indicates a patch of rough ground. “This is where they captured me. I should be able to backtrack along my trail to the ship from here.”

Looking in the direction Renei indicates, the group can see a mountainous, rock-strewn wilderness stretching towards the horizon. It doesn’t look like it will be easy going out in that seemingly barren wasteland.

Fenri grunts in acknowledgement. “Lead the way.”

Between the rocky, treacherous terrain and the necessary care taken in order to avoid losing the trail, the journey is slow going. There is very little to see in the way of vegetation or native fauna, but they keep a wary eye on their backtrail in case they are being followed.

Late in the afternoon, Renei leads the way up a steep, shale-strewn hillside. She is almost at its top when she suddenly cries out in surprise. The shale shifts beneath her feet and she stumbles back. The cascading stones quickly become a landslide that engulfs the group, and a short but painful tumble later they each find themselves back at the bottom of the hillside – bruised, battered, and partially buried in dirt and shale.

After picking themselves up and dusting themselves off, they decide to make camp and tend to the injuries sustained in the fall. No one is seriously hurt enough to warrant the use of medpacs, but the cuts and bruises are painful enough and blunt their desire to take advantage of the remaining hour or so of daylight. The group sleep uneventfully beneath Ord Mantell’s twin moons, and arise early the next morning to resume their trek.

Shortly before midday, while passing through the shadowy valleys between the steep, rocky hillsides, the group become aware of the sounds of tumbling stones on the opposite side of one of the steep inclines.

“I’ll go take a look,” volunteers Fenri, sliding his blaster out from its holster.

“It could be an ambush.”

“I’ll back you up,” Khail offers. Fenri nods, and both men quickly make their way up the hillside.

As Fenri nears the top, he drops to the ground and crawls forward to its edge. Raising himself up on his arms, the soldier peers into the valley on the other side and gives an involuntary start, sending stones rolling down the slope with a loud clatter. The object of his surprise whirls at the sound and lets out a bestial roar. Standing twice the height of a man, the powerfully muscled, blue-scaled humanoid beast before him charges up the slope. Its massive, clawed fists slash at the air in anticipation, and drool drips from its razor-toothed maw.

Fenri leaps to his feet and races back down the hill towards the rest of the group, overtaking Khail’s own rapid retreat in his haste. At the sound of the roar his companions have all drawn their weapons, yet they are presently unsure of what it is they face. Their curiosity is more than satisfied when the imposing bulk of the Mantellian Savrip crests the hillside and barrels down towards them.

A pair of lightsabers hum to life as in one smooth motion Fenri whirls, takes aim with his blaster, and fires. The shot lances into the beast’s chest, causing it to roar in pain and fury, but does little to slow its charge.

Khail and Thalo quickly back away from the soldier and the onrushing Savrip, the smuggler snapping off a hasty shot. However, the creature’s momentum carries it out of the path of his fire and Cyan’s similarly desperate slash with her lightsaber - and directly into Fenri. He screams in agony as the Savrip’s teeth crunch into his arm as he raises it reflexively to ward off the beasts attack. Blood sprays from the wound as the soldier struggles desperately to bring his blaster to bear, but between the ferocity of its attack and the resulting injury his shot goes wide.

“Has anyone got a spare blaster?” screams Renei in panic.

“Yeah, over here!” Khail yells, pulling one of the cantina thug’s blasters from his belt. He tosses it to the dirt and fires again at the Savrip as Renei dashes over, scoops the weapon up, turns and fires. Desperate not to hit their companions in the close struggle that is taking place, both shots miss their mark.

Thalo reaches out to the Force and lets it overtake his senses. Time seemed to slow as he advances on the Savrip. A massive claw lashes out towards him, but he easily ducks underneath the blow and sweeps his lightsaber before him in a blazing emerald arc. The blade shears through the beast’s scales and flesh, searing a deep gouge in its flank. It roars again in pain and releases its grip on Fenri, who staggers back several steps.

Taking advantage of the moment, Cyan stretches her mind out to the Force as well and lets it guide her actions. Diving forward, she hits the ground and rolls, coming up behind the beast. The young Jedi plunges the azure blade deep into its other flank, and with one last roar of agony the Savrip finally succumbs to its wounds and collapses to the ground, dead.

Everyone moves over to Fenri, who is already beginning to bandage up his injuries. “I’ll be ok,” he says, waving away their concern. “It looks worse than it is – the armour took most of the impact, though it still hurts like hell.” He ties off the makeshift bandage with his teeth. “Let’s get moving though, in case there are any more of these things nearby.”

Resuming the trail, the group eventually arrives at the edge of a canyon maze. Beyond the cliff walls stretches a rocky landscape, dotted with mesas and ravines. Scorched earth and a small impact crater confirms that their new friend’s ship crashed here, but the vehicle itself is nowhere to be seen.

Renei Tosh turns to the group with a puzzled look on her face. “Uhh . . . would you believe it is here when I last saw it?”

Fenri gestures towards the ground. “Let’s have a look around. Maybe we can work out what happened.”

Everyone spreads out, looking for any other signs of the missing starfighter.

“There are tracks over here,” calls Thalo. “It looks like the ship was dragged in that direction” He gestures westwards towards the setting sun.

Renei makes her way over and peers at the ground. “Hmm… bantha prints. It appears that there were two of them.”

“Look out!” Fenri yells a sudden warning. At his shout of alarm, they all turn to see a purple-skinned Twi’lek rise up from her ambush position behind a large boulder, her blaster aimed at Renei.

The Twi’lek is fast, but Renei is faster. The girl is already diving to one side as a stun blast flashes through the area she has just vacated. Khail and Fenri’s blasters are quickly in hand and they return fire, their own stun bolts impacting harmlessly against the boulder she is using for cover. An emerald-bladed lightsaber hums to life and Thalo begins to move cautiously towards the bounty hunter.

Seeing the imminent threat, the Twi’lek shifts her aim to the Jedi. Too easy, she thinks. The fool is coming straight at me. She thumbs the blaster’s switch off stun and let the gunsight drift over the Jedi’s head. Got you.

The bounty hunter gently squeezes the trigger and the fatal bolt lances towards Thalo. To her utter astonishment, the jedi sweeps the lightsaber up at the last moment and deflects the shot into the sky.

Outnumbered five-to-one and her weapon seemingly rendered useless, the Twi’lek turns to run. Thalo races after her but is unable to gain ground on the fleeing bounty hunter. Stun blasts from Fenri and Khail hiss through the air around the Twi’lek as she runs, with one of the soldier’s shots glancing off her arm. She grits her teeth in pain but manages to keep up the pace.

“Forget it, you won’t catch her,” Fenri growls into his comlink. Thalo gives up pursuit and returns to the gathered group.

Renei points to the tracks in the dirt. “These tracks will be easy to follow, and there’s no way that two banthas can drag a Z-95 too far or too fast in the time I’ve been away. Let’s get going.”

“No.” Thalo’s reply brings everyone up short. “We need to head back. Our master is due to return to the ship either today or tomorrow. We should be there when arrives.”

“What?!” Renei exclaims in astonishment. “He can contact you on your comlink! It’s going to take you at least a day to get back to Great Rock. Besides, once we recover my ship I can fly one of you back to the settlement in under an hour. It will take you less time to return to your ship if you help me retrieve mine, than it would if you are to walk back.”

“I still think we should go back,” the Jedi insists doggedly. “What if he’s in trouble and we need to get away quickly? I’d rather not risk it.” He turns to Khail and Fenri. “We have already paid you to fly us to this planet and back to Yavin IV. Your primary duty should be to us.” Thalo looks determined.

“Fine!” Renei shouts in frustration. “I’ll go on my own if need be. I need that ship – it’s my livelihood. It’s all I own in this galaxy!”

Khail turns to Fenri. Some unspoken conversation appears to go on between them, and Fenri finally shrugs; he would continue, even if it is only is annoy the Jedi. Khail turns back to Renei. “Relax, we’re going to help you.” Cyan nods in agreement.

“Dammit, fine then!” Thalo snarls, defeated. “Let’s get moving - we’re wasting time!” He stalks away along the drag marks gouged into the dirt by the disabled starfighter, the rest of the group quickly following in his wake.

 

[Beretta]

The Sunken Mesa

Another uneventful night is spent resting up from the rigours of the previous day. Upon resuming their journey, it is not long before they come across two banthas grazing on scrub brush growing around the base of a 20-meter-tall plateau. A makeshift crane with cables leading up the side of the mesa is affixed to the top of the cliff.

“It looks like we’ve found what we’re looking for,” says Khail. The group moved up to the plateau’s base, looking for a means of scaling its sides. “Hmm,” he muses, closely examining the rocky surface. “These look like handholds carved into the wall.” There is a sudden flash, and the smuggler staggers back with a cry. Thalo also yells in a mixture of pain and surprise. Luckily, both have only been grazed by the blaster-fire.

“Snipers!” Fenri shouts. “Up there in the cleft!” Barely visible, a pair of rough-looking fringers are leaning out from their position of concealment and taking aim with their blaster rifles. “Get behind cover!” shouts the soldier as he runs to the north, while the rest of the group runs west, following the curve of the plateau and out of the sniper’s line of sight.

Blaster bolts explode into the ground around their feet as they run, though one finds its mark again in Khail. Out of the line of fire, he sinks to the ground in obvious pain and pauses to collect his breath.

When he has recovered sufficiently, Khail speaks into his comlink for the benefit of Fenri, who has run off in the other direction is now separated from the group. “Here’s the plan. You find another way on to the top of that plateau while Renei and I distract them by drawing their fire.”

“Got it,” is the soldier’s terse reply.

Khail and Renei take cover at the edge of the sniper’s line of sight and begin shooting up at their position. The fringers promptly return fire, and the rest of the group heads westwards to meet up again at the opposite side of the plateau.

“Anything?” Cyan asks the soldier, and Fenri shakes his head in the negative. The Jedi sighs. “We didn’t see anything either. The top is only 20-meters up. Why don’t we combine the contents of Thalo’s and my liquid cable dispensers, tie the ropes together and attach them to this grappling hook?”

“I don’t like your chances of hurling that thing 20-meters straight up, but there’s no way we’re going to get up there without some kind of help. Let’s give it a try.”

Their comlinks beep and Khail’s voice can be heard against a backdrop of heavy blaster fire. “If you can hurry things up it would be appreciated! We’ve got a couple more of them shooting at us, plus our blasters are running low on power. We’ve each got a spare power pack but I don’t know how much longer we can keep up the diversion.”

The two Jedi fire their liquid-cable dispensers onto the ground, creating two coils of a heavy rope-like substance. Tying the two together and attaching the grappling hook, Thalo attempts to throw the makeshift grappling iron high enough to catch on the plateau’s edge. On the third try, the hook lands on the top of the ledge and snags tight.

Using the wall as a brace, the three of them ascend to the top of the plateau. Once there they can see that the mesa is not flat-topped at all, its center having collapsed long ago to form a 10-meter deep depression. A staircase winds its way up to the top of the plateau on the opposite side, and beneath the crane, partially covered by a tarp, is a Z-95 Headhunter.
Pulling up the rope, Fenri re-secures the grappling hook and drops the rope down into the interior of the mesa. The soldier rappels down, with the two Jedi right behind him.

“Ok, let’s take care of those snipers,” he growls. “Keep those lightsabers off until we get there – I don’t want to risk them hearing or seeing us until we’re ready to strike.”

Cyan and Thalo nod, following close behind Fenri as he runs towards the opposite wall of the mesa. They pass by the fringer’s tents and the concealed starfighter, and upon reaching the stairway take the steps two at a time. The sounds of blaster fire increase as they reach the top of the mesa, where a tunnel passes through the wall to the exterior. At the tunnel’s opposite opening, four rough-clad individuals are firing their sporting blaster rifles down at Khail and Renei below.

“Go!” Fenri whispers fiercely, and the two Jedi begin running down the tunnel. As he raises his blaster and takes aim, one of the snipers flinches back from a diversionary blaster shot that explodes against the tunnel entrance nearby. His peripheral vision catches the movement of the Jedi as they rapidly approach, and he cries out in a mixture of surprise and warning. As the ruffian struggles to bring his rifle to bear, Fenri squeezes the trigger of his own blaster and sends a shot punching through the sniper’s chest and out the other side. As the body falls backwards out of sight, the Jedi ignite their lightsabers and bear down on the remaining ship thieves, who are whirling around to face the new threat.

The body of the first fringer hits the ground with a sickening thud, and Khail gratefully holsters his almost drained blaster. He begins his ascent up the rough handholds of the mesa’s exterior, Renei on his heels.

Thalo leaps towards one of the fringers, swinging his lightsaber up and around to deflect a well-aimed blaster bolt. The backswing of the weapon shears through the mid-section of the shooter, and the top half of his body topples back. Khail and Renei are forced to hug the mesa wall as the hapless fringer’s upper torso tumbles through the air past them. A third ruffian crumples to the ground, his abdomen smoking from a direct hit from Fenri’s blaster.

Cyan slashes her lightsaber in an argent blue arc at the last sniper, who is a bit slow in twisting away in an attempt to avoid the attack. He cries out in pain as the tip of the lightsaber burns a shallow cut across his arm and chest.

Desperately, the ruffian triggers his weapon point-blank at Cyan. There is no time to bring her lightsaber back to deflect the blast, so she instead reflexively raises her free hand towards the rifle’s muzzle. Instead of the blaster bolt burning a hole through her hand and body, there erupts a shower of sparks as the energy of the attack is completely absorbed. Indeed, to the fringer’s utter amazement, he sees the cuts and scrapes on the Jedi’s exposed flesh miraculously heal and disappear in seconds.

Cyan levels the azure blade of her lightsaber at the sniper’s throat. “Drop your weapon and surrender, and we’ll let you live.”

The sniper glances behind him at the 20-meter drop to the ground below, and then back at his three opponents. One seems to be immune to blasters, the other able to predict the path of blaster fire and knock it aside, and the last is a crack shot who doesn’t miss his target.

He drops the blaster to the ground. “Alright, I surrender.”

Khail’s head appears over the edge of the mesa to see Cyan binding up the last sniper with mesh tape. Renei comes up close behind, exclaiming loudly in happiness at the sight of her Z-95.

“Let’s go get your ship repaired,” says Khail, leading her towards the stairway.

As they move down to the mesa floor, Thalo turns to the prisoner. “Time for some answers,” he says. “Where’s the rest of your band?”

“Go suck on a wamp-rat,” the prisoner spits in defiance.

“Don’t make us do this the hard way.”

“You’re a Jedi,” the fringer sneers. “You wouldn’t harm an unarmed prisoner.”

Thalo sighs. “No, you’re right. I wouldn’t.” The jedi focusses the power of the Force into the outlaw’s mind and speaks again, making the same hand gesture as he did back in the cantina. “Where’s the rest of your band?” he repeats.

The fringer, his mind now under the influence of the Force, answers. “Our leader went with two others to The Junkyard to find a buyer for the Z-95.”

Thalo nods. “I see. When can we expect them to return?”

The fringer shakes his head in bewilderment. “How the hell would I know? He’s been gone most of the day. If he found a buyer he could be back any time now. If he didn’t, well, he might not be back for a few days.” The man squirms around uncomfortably. “Look, how about letting me go?”

“Sure - later. In the meantime we have things to do.”

Fenri strolls towards the sniper’s ledge. “I’ll keep an eye out for his friends.”

Leaving the prisoner, Thalo heads down to the supply crates. After
rummaging through them for a few minutes, he manages to uncover very little of interest. Most of the equipment is broken, though there are a few items of use.

He returns to where Cyan is keeping an eye on the prisoner and Fenri is on lookout. The Jedi hands the soldier a pair of macrobinoculars he found in the crates. “Here, take these - they might come in handy,” he says. Fenri grunts in thanks.

An hour passes, and Khail has finished fixing the ship’s circuitry that had blown, which also damaged several other vital systems. All that is left now is to fix the hull damage sustained in the crash landing.

He has barely made a start when Fenri suddenly perks up from where he is scanning the horizon with his newly acquired macrobinoculars. “Contact. Three humanoids - one’s a red-scaled Trandoshan. Must be our guys.”

“What’s the plan?” Cyan asks.

“I’ve got an idea. There’s a lot of open ground around this mesa, and I’m going to make them think twice about trying to cross it.”

Fenri shoulders the Sporting Blaster Rifle and sights down the barrel at one of the fringers flanking the Trandoshan. At a range of about 350-meters, he squeezes the trigger gently. A lethal burst of energy streaks from the muzzle of the blaster and his target flies backward, landing in a crumpled heap. The Trandoshan and his remaining henchman dive to the ground, but with blaster bolts melting the dirt around them into glass, they quickly realise that it is only a matter of time until they are hit. Getting up, the two ship-thieves start running back the way they came.

The sodlier smiles. “They’ll be back later, undoubtedly under the cover of night. We should be long gone by then.”

The rest of the repairs go smoothly, and when they are complete Khail jumps into the Z-95’s cockpit. Firing up the engines and the diagnostic systems, he is pleased to see green lights flash up on the console.

“She’s good to go. Time to head back to Great Rock and get my ship.”

Renei looks at Khail expectantly. When he continues to sit there she sighs in exasperation, “Are you going to hop out and let me fly my ship or what?”
Khail shakes his head. “There isn’t really room for two in here, and to be honest you’re smaller and lighter than me. You get to sit in my lap, not the other way around.”

“Fine,” Renei sighs again. “Let’s get your payment sorted out first.” The girl pulls out the credit chip she retrieved from the Headhunter earlier and makes the necessary transfers as the group gathers around her.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye,” Reni says. “You know, you all handled yourselves pretty well in the last few days.” She smiles sheepishly. “I must admit, I wasn’t completely honest with you. In addition to being an explorer, I also occasionally recruit help for the New Republic.

“Our presence and influence in the Outer Rim is still pretty weak, but we’re making progress every day. Anyway, if you’re interested I can introduce you to some influential people who can point you in the right direction. You’ll get paid well for your efforts – the New Republic has the money, but not the ships or manpower.

“So, what do you say? Want to help us restore freedom to the rest of the galaxy?”

The companions look at each other. “We’re not Jedi Knights yet,” Thalo answers. “We have to answer to our Master.”

Khail shrugs. “Look, I don’t know. If you aren’t in too much of a rush, why not wait until Lor-Zan returns and everyone can talk about it then?”

Renei smiles, though it’s clear she’s disappointed. “Okay. Let’s get back to Great Rock then meet up back here. It will give you some time to consider my offer.”

Khail sets the Z-95 down outside the spaceport. “See you back at the mesa.”
Renei straps herself into the pilot seat.

“Sure thing,” she replies with a wink.

The Z-95 soars back into the sky as Khail enters the settlement cautiously, all too aware of the threat the thug had made in the cantina. Surprisingly, he arrives at the Bellerophon without incident, and starts the pre-flight sequence. When everything has checked out he settles back comfortably in the pilots couch, and has only just started to relax when the comlink beeps. He thumbs the switch.

“Khail here.”

“Captain Khail,” answers the voice of Lor-Zan Magnus. “I’m ready to return to the ship. Are you there or should I meet up with you somewhere else in the settlement?”

“Uhm, there was a bit of an incident. I’m currently aboard the ship; everyone else is at a mesa in the Mantellian wilderness. Come on board and I’ll fill you in on the details on the way there…”


Corva Sector and the Outer Rim

Renei leans back against the nose of her starfighter. “So that’s it. Our assignment is to keep an eye on the activities of various factions of the Imperial Remnant operating in Corva and other nearby sectors of space.”

Lor-Zan strokes his chin thoughtfully. “That’s an intriguing offer, Renei. My padawans have learned all they can in the structured confines of the Academy. It is time for the galaxy to be their classroom now. We will assist you – at least for a while.”

All eyes turn to Khail and Fenri. “Fenri and I have talked it over, and we’ve decided to join up too - but only for so long as it suits us to do so. We have no love for the Imperials, and perhaps by helping you we can also settle a few scores of our own.”

Renei smiles happily. “That’s great! Let me upload the astrogation co-ordinates to your navicomp. We’ll link our systems so that we arrive at the destination together. It can get a little awkward otherwise.”

Boarding their respective ships, the tramp freighter and Z-95 lift off from the surface of Ord Mantell and head out into space. With a flicker of pseudomotion, both ships jump to lightspeed.

 

[Beretta]

GM's Commentary

We discovered what it is like with no healing in SAGA after everyone took damage from the landslide. 10hp didn’t seem like much, but with medpacs and rest only healing 1hp, we all realised how careful the group needed to be. I think everyone but Cyan used their Second Wind ability at least once (though she burned a Force Point on her successful use of Negate Energy to get a healing effect), and what a valuable ability it is.

As a result, at the conclusion of the adventure “Rendezvous at Ord Mantell”, each character gained enough xp to reach 2nd level.

Having your only natural 20 attack roll (crit) in the whole deflected really sucks… (though Thalo's player would disagree!)

 

[Beretta]

DAMSEL IN DISTRESS

Captain Naaren Bluuis, commanding officer of the Corva Sector Fleet, makes his way to the briefing room of the Nova. He is proud of his ship - a Defender Assault Carrier, flagship of the New Republic forces assigned to this region of space. Escorted by a Nebulon-B frigate and a Corellian Corvette, Bluuis once again wonders at the usage of the term “Fleet” to describe the force at his command. Then again, it is adequate for their purpose – to reconnoitre the Sector and report back on Imperial activities. Located out in deep space, several light years from the nearby Galaanus system, their chances of being detected are remote.

His mind turns back to the recent arrivals: a Jedi Master, his two padawans, and a couple of opportunistic mercenaries seemingly hungry for credits. He can tell that the latter two have another agenda, however; one that seemed to involve the Empire. Considering their age and attitude towards the Imperials, it is clear that they suffered during its reign and still bear the emotional and psychological scars of that experience. This could work to their advantage, or else it could cause them to act recklessly - jeopardising their companions and the secret New Republic presence here. With such a shortage of manpower and ships it would be a risk he would have to take if he was to properly see his orders carried through to completion.

He strides into the Nova’s briefing room to find the newcomers – all save the Jedi Master - already assembled and waiting. Standing by the holoprojector at the end of the room is his Sullustan aide, Kiara. Her ever-present stacks of datapads and holodiscs are strewn haphazardly on the nearby table.

Captain Bluuis moves over to the lectern and pauses momentarily to arrange his briefing notes.

“Thank you for your prompt arrival,” he begins. “I know that you haven’t had a chance to properly settle in here, but a matter of some urgency has just come up.”

The captain keys some information into the terminal, and the holoprojector lights up with a 3D image of a Correllian Corvette.

“We have just received a distress signal from one of the fleet’s ships. The Corellian Corvette Stellar Damsel was carrying vital information acquired by New Republic Intelligence agents back to the fleet when she was attacked by an Imperial Star Destroyer belonging to a faction of the Imperial Remnant known as the Kaarenth Dissension. The Damsel suffered heavy damage before she was able to seek shelter in the H’ken asteroid belt, hiding out inside one of the larger asteroids after the hyperdrive motivator cut out. Imperial forces are sweeping the asteroid field, searching for the ship. The field is vast, so the search is slow and painstaking, but it’s only a matter of time before they locate the vessel.

“Your mission is to get inside the asteroid field and get the Damsel out any way you can. If the ship isn’t salvageable, you’re to recover the data and take the remaining crewmembers on board. A New Republic Nebulon-B frigate and a squadron of X-Wing fighters are going to stage an attack on the Star Destroyer to provide a distraction for you to slip into the asteroid field unnoticed. This force is no match for an Imperial II-class vessel, however, so you won’t have much time to complete the mission once the attack begins."

Captain Bluuis shut the holoprojector down. “You’ll be paid 4,000 credits each upon the successful completion of your mission. Any questions?”

When none are forthcoming, the Captain smiles grimly. “Good. Time is of the essence, so get moving. Dismissed.”

The group races up to the hangar bay and the Bellerophon, where they find Master Lor-Zan waiting for them. “Cyan, Thalo - a moment of your time please.”

Khail and Fenri continue towards the freighter and begin preflight preparations as the padawans stand before their teacher. His absence from the briefing has been of some concern.

As if reading their minds, Lor-Zan smiles warmly. “Our paths are to diverge, at least for a time. There are serious matters that I must attend to – matters for which you are yet ill-prepared. I would not risk your lives needlessly by having you accompany me.”

The Jedi Master holds out a hand, in which rests a small metallic box. Intricate carvings are engraved upon its surface. “This, my students, is a Holocron – an ancient Jedi artifact from the days of the Old Republic. It contains an imprint of the consciousness of an old Jedi Master called Anavus Svag, a legendary Jedi warrior involved in the Great Hyperspace War several millennia ago.”

Cyan reaches for the Holocron and studies it intently as Lor-Zan continues to speak.

“In my absence I would not have you neglect your training. You may consult freely with the Holocron for instruction and guidance in the ways of the Force. But for now, I must bid you farewell. May the Force be with you.”

The two padawans bow. “And with you, Master,” they respond.

Lor-Zan leaves the hangar as the two Jedi students run over to the Bellerophon’s access ramp. It hisses shut behind them and the ship begins to vibrate from the activation of its repulsorlift engines. With the hyperspace coordinates of their destination already uploaded into the navicomputer, the freighter accelerates out of the hangar bay and into space.

The Nova quickly recedes behind them as, nearby, the Nebulon-B frigate and a squadron of X-Wings vanish into hyperspace in a flicker of pseudomotion. Khail reaches for the hyperspace levers.

“Here we go,” he says, and pulls the levers back.

 

[Beretta]

Tracking the Damsel

The starlines flare as the short hyperspace journey begins. Fifteen minutes pass before the hyperspace transponder begins to beep – they are coming up on target…

The Bellerophon emerges from hyperspace on the edge of a vast asteroid field. In the distance, a small section of space is crisscrossed with green and red laser fire where the diversionary attack is taking place.

Khail flicks a few keys on the comm. board, scanning New Republic frequencies for any kind of signal. In a few moments it beeps as it locks on to a weak, coded distress signal emanating from a large asteroid in the midst of the field ahead. If he hadn’t been specifically looking for it, it would have easily been dismissed as mere background radiation.

Thalo takes the copilots seat as Fenri heads up into the ship’s gun turret and powers up the weapon system. Cyan takes a seat at the sensor panel and scans nearby space for any signs of Imperial patrols.

“All clear,” she tells Khail as he expertly maneuvers the freighter through the rocky debris.

“I’m going to do a quick visual sweep of the asteroid for any powered-down vessels. The Imperials could have arrived here before us and set up an ambush for any would-be rescuers like us.”

Khail brings the ship in towards the vast chunk of jagged rock the size of a small city, from which the faint signal is being transmitted. Scanning the surface, they can see several dark craters left by impacts of smaller rocks. One particularly deep crater appears to be a dark entrance to either a cave or deep crevasse.

Khail orbits the asteroid once and, finding it clear of any hostile vessels, steers the Bellerophon into the cave entrance.

The cavern extends deep into the asteroid. Ahead, lit by the glow of their ship’s lights, is the Corellian Corvette Stellar Damsel. There are numerous burn scars on her hull and a lot of damage. The remaining lights on the ship flicker on and off sporadically.

As the Bellerophon draws closer, the sensors show that there are still people alive on board, but the Damsel’s power readings have grown very weak.

Suddenly, the asteroid shudders and rumbles slightly. Small pieces of rock break off from the cavern and pelt both ships. From the Damsel, a flock of shadowy forms take wing and flutter through the darkness towards them.

Fenri lines up the barrel of the laser cannon with one of the approaching mynocks and depresses the trigger, and the resulting bolt of red energy instantly vapourises the creature. Then the remainder of the flock is upon the ship, gnawing into exposed energy cables and power couplings.

Khail glances at the red lights flashing on his control panel as he opens up a tight-beam comm. channel with the corvette. “Stellar Damsel, this is Captain Khail of the Bellerophon. We’re here as part of the Corva Sector task force to assist you. Please respond.”

The comm. is silent for a few moments, and then a heavily accented voice replies. “This is Acting-Captain Guro. The ship is too heavily damaged to make it out of the asteroid field, and only a few of us are left. The captain and most of the crew died in the initial attack. The docking port got heavily damaged, but if you can bring your ship over we have a few space suits we can use to cross the gap. Please hurry – the asteroid is unstable and could come apart at any moment!”

“Roger that – stand by.” Khail maneuvers the ship over to the doomed corvette’s docking port. “Fenri, Thalo - see if you two can clear those mynocks off the hull. Cyan and I will help get the survivors on board. Sensor readings indicate that there’s no atmosphere out there so you’ll need to suit up first.”

Everyone heads to the ships airlock and once there, dons a space suit. Khail attaches a long, thin cord from the airlock to his suit. “Make sure you all attach a tether line to the ship – I don’t want to have to chase down anyone who gets knocked away!”

He punches the airlock access panel and the hatch opens with a rush of escaping atmosphere. This is quickly followed by the sound of retching over their comlinks as Cyan doubles over, clearly sickened and disoriented by the zero-g environment. Only Khail seems totally unperturbed with the loss of gravity.

Approximately 20-meters away, they can see a small group of the Damsel’s crew clustered in the airlock of their ship. Fenri grabs his blaster. “I’ll go topside and clear the mynocks,” he says. “Thalo, you go underneath – I saw a few of them disappear under there.”

Thalo nods and moves awkwardly out of the airlock, his lightsaber flashing into life. Fenri is next and with one hand pulls himself up onto the top of the Bellerophon. Finally, Khail leaps out of the airlock and floats over to the Damsel, Cyan holding on to his belt grimly.

The corvette’s airlock opens and they land gently inside, just as both ships are pelted with more stones shaken loose from the unstable asteroid. One of the Damsel’s crew moves forward, and through the visor they can make out the face of a Sullustan.

“Just in time, captain,” he greets them in his heavily accented Basic. “I have experienced tremors like these on Sullust, right before a cavern collapsed. I fear that we don’t have long before the same thing happens here.”

Khail nods. “We are informed that you have important data that needs to get back to the New Republic?”

“Yes, I have it on datadisk right here,” Guro replies, patting one of his space suit’s pockets.

“Right then, let’s get your people back to my ship.”

“We’ll need to do this in two trips, as we don’t have enough suits for the entire crew...”

Khail sighs as he, Cyan, Guro, and part of the corvette’s remaining crew begin floating over to the Bellerophon – it isn’t a much of a surprise that things are turning out to be irritatingly complicated.

From what the smuggler can see, the others are still struggling with the mynocks. Thalo has dispatched two, but the third has managed to entangle its winged form about him and is delivering quite a battering. The emerald-bladed lightsaber is being waved about frantically as the Jedi struggles to get free of the mynock without injuring himself in the process. Fenri has also taken care of one, but the other is taking advantage of his clumsy movements in the zero-g environment and is darting quickly around him, inflicting painful strikes and dodging the frustrated soldier’s blaster fire.

Once they are back at the freighter, Khail re-pressurises the airlock and collects the suits for return to the remaining crew waiting aboard the Damsel.

“How’s the mynock situation?” he asks after thumbing his comlink.

Fenri’s reply sounds pained. “Those damned pests put up quite a fight – they certainly didn’t appreciate being interrupted. We both got knocked around some, but managed to dispose of them before they were able to do any serious damage. We’re coming back aboard.”

Khail reopens the freighter’s airlock, and he and Guro drift back over towards the stricken corvette, clutching the space suits tightly. Displeased at the prospect of suffering from another bout of space-sickness, Cyan returns to the Bellerophon’s cockpit in order to oversee the evacuation from there.

 

[Beretta]

Fight or Flight…

The remaining crew have just finished donning the suits and are preparing to make the trip over to the Bellerophon when a dull boom rocks the corvette.

“Another tremor?” asks a worried crewman. Guro, who has just finished securing his helmet, shakes his head.

“That is no tremor,” he replies, pointing out of the porthole. “Look!”

Beyond the Damsel’s airlock several large forms can be seen dropping onto the hulls of both ships. They are clad in bulky white armour that gleams in the light of the two ships, the mechanized gauntlets of their space armour clenching like metallic claws.

“Spacetroopers!” Khail yells in a mixture of surprise and fear. “Get your people moving now or we’re dead!”

The crew leap out of the airlock and drift in space over towards the Bellerophon. With its shields down the ship is a sitting duck. Khail winces as the troopers start firing their blaster cannons at the engines in an attempt to disable the freighter, fervently hoping that the armour plating is thick enough to hold them off for the short amount of time needed to get everyone across.

“Fenri, we’ve got company! Get on the turret and see if you can get rid of a couple of them! Thalo, get the ship ready to go as soon as I make it back!”

Grabbing his blaster, he lines up one of the troopers attempting to sabotage his ship and fires. The blaster bolt burns a blackened hole into the armour, but appears to do little else except attract the Imperial’s attention. Khail ducks back behind the airlock and the hull shudders from the explosive force of the blaster cannon fire.

In the meantime, Fenri has made it to the turret and is lining up the other trooper in the weapon’s targeting reticule. However, the Imperial sees gun barrel rotating in his direction. He hugs his armoured body close against the hull as the laser burns through space above him. He isn’t lucky a second time though as Fenri adjusts his aim, and the next shot vapourises the trooper completely.

“Everyone’s aboard,” Thalo’s shouts over the comlink. “We’re just waiting on you, Khail.”

Khail jumps out of the airlock to find that the spacetrooper he fired at is taking things personally. The suit’s thruster flares and the Imperial soldier floats directly towards the smuggler.

Khail triggers another desperate shot from his blaster, but again it glances harmlessly off the trooper’s heavy amour. The gap between the airlocks of the two ships suddenly appear to be light years apart as the muzzle of the spacetrooper’s blaster cannon swings up and into line with him.

This is it, he thinks as he drifts helplessly through the expanse in between. I’m done for and there’s nothing I can do about it.

From within the Bellerophon’s cockpit, Cyan senses the smugglers despair as she anxiously observes the events unfolding outside. As the blaster cannon comes up, she reaches out to the trooper’s mind and hammers it with the power of the Force. Khail watches as the troopers’ armoured form inexplicably shudders and begins to fly off-course. The blaster cannon’s aim falters and the resulting shot goes wide, exploding chunks of rock from asteroid’s cavern wall.

One final tremor rips through the asteroid and it finally begins to come apart.

Barely conscious from the sheer strength of the mental bombardment, and his senses overloaded by the Force, the trooper bounces off the hull of the corvette as Khail lands unharmed in the Bellerophon’s airlock. Not stopping to remove the suit, he re-pressurises the chamber and races to the cockpit.

Thalo brings the freighter’s shields online and pours on the thrust, massive slabs of rock flying in their path as the cavern entrance starts to collapse. The ship is slightly sluggish and unresponsive due to the depredations of the mynocks, but nonetheless the young Jedi manages to pilot the ship through the debris and out into the asteroid field without a single scratch.

Khail rushes into the cockpit, sparing a brief hug of gratitude for Cyan and a slap on the back for Thalo, before sliding into the pilots couch.

“Err, we’ve got a problem,” says Cyan, looking intently at the sensor panel. Four small blips have detached themselves from the sensor signature of a nearby asteroid. “TIE fighters incoming!”

Stuttering green blasts of laser fire streak past the Bellerophon as it twists and turns through the asteroid field. The ship shudders as one of the TIE pilots scores a glancing hit.

“Nothing to worry about,” Cyan grins nervously. “The shields absorbed the hit.”

Fenri returns fire, the laser cannons sending metallic debris spinning away from one of the Imperial fighters. Its pilot is tenacious though, and he keeps his craft on the freighter’s tail.

The Bellerophon is fast but no match for a TIE fighter in speed. They swarm around the freighter like jackals, weaving in and out of the asteroids with laser cannons blazing.

Khail grits his teeth as he throws the Bellerophon into a loop, laser cannon fire flashing harmlessly in its wake. A TIE fighter glances off an asteroid as it attempts to follow the maneuver, one of the solar panels sparking from the impact.

Fenri lets out a cheer over the comlink as he sends laser fire punching through another of their pursuers, causing the TIE fighter to explode in a magnificent orange and white fireball.

The acceleration compensators whine in protest as Khail wrenches the ship into an “Ackbar’s Slash”, bringing it up and around to just narrowly miss colliding with one of the Imperial craft. Unfortunately for the TIE’s pilot, the maneuver causes him to fly straight through the stream of laser fire from the fighter on the Bellerophon’s tail. Flame erupts from his ship but no major components are damaged, and it loops up and around to bear down upon the freighter again.

“Shields at seventy-five percent!” yells Cyan as the Bellerophon shudders again with the impact of several hits. Diagnostic panels light up with flashing red warnings as parts of the hull are melted away.

“We’re almost out,” Khail says. “We don’t have a minute to plot the astrogation co-ordinates normally. Thalo, once we’re free of the asteroid field, you take over the helm while I take a few shortcuts with the navicomp.” The Jedi nods grimly.

Fenri laughs again as another TIE fighter disintegrates under a hail of laser cannon fire, and then they are out of the H’ken asteroid field. Thalo, now at the helm, corkscrews the Bellerophon through space as Khail desperately punches commands into the navicomp. Again the ship lurches heavily as one of the remaining TIE’s lasers find their mark.

“Co-ordinates are locked in – go!” yells Khail, and Thalo pulles back on the hyperspace levers. The starlines flare as the freighter jumps to lightspeed.

“That was some amazing flying,” Guro says from the back of the cockpit. “Thanks for getting us out of there alive.”

“No problem,” Khail replies. “What happened out there? How did the Imperials know that your ship was New Republic?”

The Sullustan shrugs. “I don’t know. Could be that the Imperials saw through our falsified transponder codes. Either way, when the Star Destroyer hailed our ship and ordered us to heave-to, the captain gave the order for an emergency hyperspace jump. The Havoc’s commander must have suspected that we weren’t going to comply because they opened fire on us just before we can get away. The emergency cut-out brought us out of hyperspace on the edge of the asteroid field, so we transmitted a distress signal and tried to find a place to hide before the Star Destroyer plotted our exit vector and followed us.”

The smuggler frowns, a dark suspicion taking form in his mind…

* * *​

Aboard the Nova, Captain Bluuis smiles at the assembled group. In the background of the hangar bay, technicians and droids are already moving repair and diagnostics equipment over to the Bellerophon.

“Excellent work, everyone,” the Captain says. “Our analysts are working on decrypting the data you helped recover as we speak.”

He looks the group up and down. “It would appear that you and your ship went through quite a scrape. Not to worry; our deck crew will take care of it, and you might want to head down to the Medical Bay and get those injuries looked at. I’ve already arranged for your payments to be transferred, and when you’re all feeling up to it I have another assignment for you. It doesn’t pay as much as your last one, but it will be easy and shouldn’t involve any combat. Inform my aide Kiara when you’re ready and I’ll brief you on the details. Thanks again.”

The Captain starts heading back toward the bridge, but Khail catches him up.

“Excuse me, sir,” he begins, “but I have some concerns about the attack. Is it possible we have spies on board who informed the Imperials about the true nature of the Stellar Damsel?”

Captain Bluuis shakes his head. “That’s possible - but unlikely. How would a spy get a message out from the fleet undetected? I know today’s holovid drama’s paint the Imperials as incompetent fools, but nothing can be further from the truth. Nonetheless I appreciate your concern, and I’ll be implementing procedures that will make a repeat of this event less likely to occur in future. We lost a good ship and the best part of a good crew, and that never sits well on any commanding officer’s conscience.”

“I see,” Khail frowns. “I’d better go oversee the repairs on my ship. Thanks for your time, captain.”

 

[Beretta]

GM’s Commentary

Well, I didn’t feel that the second session was as successful as the first.

I got a bit overwhelmed during the space combat at the end of Damsel in Distress, occasionally forgetting the +5 cover modifier in the asteroid field and making Vehicular Combat rolls for the TIE fighters.

I was further conscious of the fact that the Jedi players were feeling a bit left out in space combat, though they did make their assist rolls for Pilot checks and Sensor Ops for the gunnery when asked. When not doing that they were reading the rule book or one of the other books that was lying around, which is not what I had in mind when running a supposedly thrilling escape scene. It really did fall flat, though I think Khail’s player enjoyed it which is not surprising since his character is optimized for space combat. Fenri seemed to have fun too as he got to shoot down a couple of pursuing TIE fighters.

In hindsight I suppose it’s not very exciting if you’re not flying or shooting, but I haven’t been able to convince the Jedi players to invest much into starfighter skills. Thalo’s player has the Pilot skill and has purchased an astromech droid so perhaps down the track he might make the additional investment in a starfighter, but Cyan’s player is not interested at all at the moment.

Neither of them has planned out their character in advance, so I think that they both don’t fully appreciate just how many feats they get as compared to D&D 3.5 which is their previous basis of experience. Thalo’s player says that he has more urgent priorities for personal combat and when he runs out of options there (is that possible?) then he might then consider branching out.

I believe space combat plays a large part in the movies and I wanted to reflect that in the campaign, so I envisage approximately 33% - 50% of the combat encounters occurring in space (or at least in a vehicle of some description).

 

[Beretta]

ATTACK ON ORD CANFRE

“Nice droid, Thalo.” Fenri smirks at the dusty R2 unit that trundles faithfully behind the young Jedi. They are on their way to the Nova’s briefing room to meet Captain Bluuis for their next assignment.

“Yeah, they have a few different models powered down in storage.” Thalo pats the top of the droids swiveling dome as it beeps indignantly at the soldier’s sarcastic tone. “I made a few enquiries and they were happy to sell it to me. I thought it would come in useful on the ship.”

“What’s its designation?”

Some of the padawan’s youth shines out from his mischievous grin. “R2-L7.”

Fenri shakes his head, smiling in a rare display of humour. “L7. Right…”

The group once again convenes in the Nova’s briefing room where Kiara is busy setting up the holoprojector. Captain Bluuis arrives shortly thereafter and presses a few keys on the projector’s interface. A pleasant, blue-green planet orbited by a small moon appears above it, rotating slowly in the display.

The captain looks at the group. “After your close call with the Imperials a few days ago, I thought you might prefer a less taxing assignment this time around. That doesn’t mean that this one is any less important, however.”

He gestures towards the image of the planet hovering over the holoprojector. “This is Ord Canfre, a neutral planet as yet unaligned with either the New Republic or a faction of the Imperial remnant. It wouldn’t normally be of much importance, save that it is strategically positioned so as to provide our forces with a supply point or forward base should the Imperials step up hostilities in the region. No doubt they give Ord Canfre the same level of strategic value that we do.”

The captain presses a key, and a blip of white light begins to shine in the midst of the northernmost continents surface.

“As a result, the New Republic has established a secret base on the planet’s surface," he continues. "Due to the system’s proximity to Yaga Minor and other Imperial sectors, we are able to monitor their activities. However, the base is unable to broadcast this information to us in case the Imperials intercept the transmission. Therefore, your task is to pick up the accumulated intelligence data from that base and return it here.”

“What’s the pay?” Fenri growls.

“One thousand credits each,” the captain replies. “It’s a simple pick-up and deliver. I promise to have a more dangerous and financially rewarding assignment for you when you return, should you wish it.”

The soldier shrugs, “When do we leave?”

“Immediately. I’ll have the astrogation coordinates, the scrambled comm. channel frequency, and the relevant clearance codes uploaded to your ship. See you in about a week.”

* * *​

The secret New Republic base on Ord Canfre is well-concealed in the middle of nowhere. Nothing on the surface indicates that the subterranean base even exists, so well concealed are its shield generator and ion cannon defenses.

The Bellerophon slides beneath the rocky shelf that conceals the base’s hangar and touches down. Around them, several X-Wing and Y-Wing fighters stand silently in their bays.

Two New Republic soldiers await the group as they exit the freighter. “If you’ll please follow us,” one says, “we’ll take you to see Commander Drayson. He’s been expecting you.”

The group fall into step between the soldiers and follow them through a maze of twisting corridors. Several droids and other base personnel pass them by as they make their way to the command center.

Within the command center, several officers sit at their posts examining screens detailing various different streams of information. The Commander, a grizzled veteran of many years, turns at their approach.

“Ah, Captain Bluuis’ errand runners,” he states, looking over the group with a critical eye. “It turns out that there’s been a lot of Imperial activity in recent weeks, and we’re still compiling all of the data onto holodiscs for transfer. It should only take a few more hours, so you’re welcome to use the unassigned quarters to rest up and relax in the meantime, if you wish.”

Cyan smiles. “Thanks commander, I think that we shall.”

“Very good. I’ll send someone to inform you when the data transfer is complete. We’ll have the discs taken to your ship and you can be on your way.” The commander looks at nearby a subordinate. “Lieutenant, please show them to their temporary quarters.”

“Yes, sir,” the officer responds with a salute.

Khail shakes his head. “I’ll pass. There’s some checks I need to run on my ship.”

Within their quarters, Fenri idly sifts through the holovid titles, while Cyan and Thalo continue their tutelage via the holocron.

Assault on Canfre Base

Several hours later, in the cold vacuum of space…

The intimidating wedge-shape of an Imperial Star Destroyer hangs like a dagger poised to strike over the planet below. Several TIE fighters swoop past on patrol.

Captain Tulimus stands on the Havoc’s bridge, hands clasped behind his back. Nearby, officers and technicians in crew pits work at their controls. The turbolift doors hiss open, and an Imperial Army Officer approaches the Captain. He salutes crisply.

“Sir, my troops are prepared for a ground assault on Ord Canfre.”

Captain Tulimus raises a hand to silence him. “That will be unnecessary, Colonel Deers”.

“With respect, sir,” ventures the Colonel, “Our reconnaissance probe showed that the Rebel base is protected by a shield and an ion cannon – should they choose to evacuate, we will have little chance of catching them.”

“I have taken care of that,” says Captain Tulimus. “We have a spy within who will ensure that the shield is down and the ion cannon disabled prior to our bombardment.”

“Should I prepare a small advance force to move in once the shields are down?” asks the Colonel. “Perhaps a few squads of troopers with an armed shuttle – they can bottle up any fleeing Rebels until the heavier assault forces arrive.”

Captain Tulimus strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Very good, Colonel. Make sure your troops stay a good distance away from the base during the initial bombardment. Keep the rest of the troops on standby – they will track down any Rebels that manage to escape. All areas of strategic importance must be occupied once we have destroyed the base. Dismissed.”

As Colonel Deers salutes once more and exits the bridge, Captain Tulimus turns to a senior bridge officer.

“Ready all turbolaser batteries and stand by. You will commence bombardment of the target on my mark...”