The Forgotten: Chapter 2 – All That is Left

War rages on the Outer Rim! The planet Elaid reels under siege as the full might of the Imperial war machine descends on its fragile defenses. Amid the chaos, a lone Jedi and a handful of Republic troops make a desperate stand at the planet’s last functioning spaceport.

Among them are Column and Pevio, two battle-worn troopers who refuse to abandon the fight against the empire. As enemy forces tighten their grip, the pair fights to hold the line—buying precious time for civilians to escape and allies to regroup.

Scattered reports hint at stranded Republic forces across the planet. With no orders and no reinforcements, Column and Pevio begin a dangerous search through the crumbling port, hunting for a ship fast enough—and tough enough—to bring their brothers and sisters home…

---

“This is a waste of time,” Pevio shouted over the din of the hangar. The space teemed with bodies—species of every kind, packed shoulder to shoulder in barely restrained panic. Outside, the Imperial barrage slammed the city’s shields in irregular bursts.

“We could’ve walked to East Sector by now,” she said.

Column raised a hand and cut it forward. Keep moving.

“I’m just saying—our Jedi friend probably wouldn’t recognize a Republic ship if it parked on her face. For all we know, she’s got us looking for a Corellian freighter.”

“If there are troopers out there,” Column said, not slowing, “it’s our duty to get them out. We need a ship. That’s the mission.”

They pushed deeper into the chaos. Refugees clogged the wide bay, huddled in corners, sprawled on crates. The city’s main port had become a camp for the lost.

(Column Swears an Iron Vow, undertaking the Dangerous mission rescue a squad of Troopers who are isolated outside of the city’s protective shield. Action Roll: 3+2=5. Challenge Dice: 4, 6. Weak Hit: you are determined but begin your quest with more questions than answers. Take +1 momentum, and envision what you do to find a path forward.)

Column paused, standing tall in the crowd. His eyes scanned the bay, tracking above the heads and chaos. Then he saw it. He motioned for Pevio and began forcing a path through the press of bodies.

“Control room’s on the far side,” he said. “Might help narrow the search.”

“That is… not a bad idea,” Pevio muttered, falling in behind him.

“No need to sound so surprised.”

The control room had become a shelter. Once pristine, it was now packed with mats, crates, personal clutter stuffed into every corner. The air stank—layers of sweat, fear, and species-specific filth pushing past even their filters.

They asked around. The spaceport staff had bailed. No one was left to run anything.

“Well,” Pevio said, yanking off her helmet. “I guess it’s up to us. Of course it is. Because we’re clearly the only two bastards on this whole planet qualified to clean up this circus. Makes perfect sense.”

She rubbed the base of her horns with one gloved hand.

“You good?” Column asked.

“Yeah. I’m good. Just another day, right?”

He nodded. “Let’s get to work.”

(Making the Gather Information move. Action Roll 6+1=7. Challenge Dice: 8, 9. Miss: you unearth a dire threat or reveal an unwelcome truth that undermines your quest. Pay the Price, -1 spirit.)

After nearly thirty minutes of sifting through port records, Pevio slammed her gloved hands on the console.

“There’s no time for this! We got the evac call an hour ago. If the Imps intercepted it, those Troopers are already dead—or dying. We need to grab the biggest, fastest hunk of metal out there and run.”

Column gripped the console edge. The frame groaned under his fingers. Even through his scuffed helmet, his frustration radiated. He stared out the wide viewport.

“There’s another hangar adjacent,” he said. “We’ll check there. Take whatever flies.”

Pevio didn’t argue. She pulled on her helmet and followed as Column shoved through the crowd.

The next hangar was worse—broader, louder, a choking crush of civilians and freighters jammed wall to wall.

“Dammit,” Pevio muttered, slowing as they passed a patch of mats where a family huddled. “Injured kids here, Column.”

Column hesitated, then turned. “See what you can do. Ask the parents if they’ve seen any military craft.”

(Another Gather Information move. Action Roll: 6+1=7. Challenge Dice: 6, 7. Weak hit. the information provides new insight, but also complicates your quest. Envision what you discover. Then, take +1 momentum.)

“Good news—this family’s been here a while. They saw a ship a few days ago. Bad news—it’s in a smaller hangar with the power cut,” Pevio said, after rendering first aid to the family and rejoining Column.

The troopers headed to the location. The corridor was dim, emergency lights flickering. Column reached the hangar door and pried it open by hand. No power—probably rerouted to the city’s shields.

Inside, the space was still. Dusty. Silent. A broad-winged silhouette sat in the gloom.

Pevio let out a low whistle.

“Column… Column-Column. Is that what I think it is? No way they left one of those behind.”

Column removed his helmet. Broad jaw. Wide grin.

“Yup. That’s a Thunderclap.”

“Holy stinkin’ krayt balls,” she said, running her hand along the cream-colored hull. “When LT ditched us on this force-forsaken rock, I thought he just hated us. But he left a Thunderclap? Now I know he’s just a bleedin’ dimbus. His loss.”

“It’s no good to us if we can’t open the bay doors.”

“Right. There’s gotta be a breaker somewhere. We kick it back on long enough to open the doors, and if we’re quick, it won’t screw the defense grid.”

Column shrugged and moved toward the hangar’s control room.

(Making the Secure an Advantage move. Action Roll: 5+3=8. Challenge Dice: 10, 7. With a weak hit I succeed and will add +2 momentum bringing me to 6.)

Column found the breaker junction and rerouted power to the hangar. The massive doors groaned, then slid open with a grinding scrape. Daylight spilled across the Thunderclap’s armored hull, lighting its bristling cannons.

He cut the power again and jogged to the ship. Pevio already had the boarding ramp down and was deep in pre-flight checks when he climbed aboard.

“How are we looking?” he called up the ramp.

“Looking good! Weapons hot, full torpedo load.” She let out a laugh so hard it ended in a snort.

“Engines?”

“Oh yeah. Those work too,” she said, less impressed.

Column slammed his fist on the ramp controls. The hatch sealed shut behind him. He moved to the cockpit and dropped into the co-pilot’s seat beside her.

“Let’s go.”

(Making the Set Course move. Action Roll: 4+5=9. Challenge Dice: 5, 5. Strong hit with a match, you reach your destination and the situation there favors you. Take +1 momentum.)

Pevio flew the Thunderclap low over the troopers’ position. Column lowered the boarding ramp. Six figures ran up—four troopers, a Jedi, and Cerean wearing Republic Army officer armor.

“We got them. Let’s book it,” Column called over the intercom.

“Who commands this ship?” the Cerean asked, pulling off his helmet.

“No officers. Just me and the Private at the helm,” Column replied, sealing the ramp. He noted the rank insignia. “Captain,” he added, with a nod.

“Then I’m afraid we’ll need to commandeer your ship and your support,” the Captain said, matter-of-fact.

“For what?” Column asked, flat.

“To kill things and blow stuff up.”

Column shrugged. “No problem.”

He keyed the intercom. “Pevio. Change to mission.”

“Why in bloody guts are we changing mission?” Pevio shot back.

“To kill things and blow stuff up.”

A beat. “Oh… ok. No problem.”

While the squad rested and checked their gear, the Jedi and Captain briefed the crew.

Less than a week ago, a Republic research vessel had been hijacked. It carried a live pathogen and an infected subject. The ship crash-landed on Eliad—likely damaged during the hijack—and its transponders were disabled. The last known signal gave them a general search area.

The mission: locate the wreck, neutralize any hostiles, and recover or destroy the pathogen, the subject, and all related data.

“The importance of this mission cannot be overstated,” said the Cerean, who introduced himself as Captain Emkom. “The fate of every living thing on this planet may hang in the balance. What support remains?”

“None,” Column said, fingers tapping the console.

“Yeah,” Pevio chimed in, “you’re looking at the entire Republic military presence left from HQ. Imps dropped outta nowhere, cracked the command ship like an Alderaanian duck egg. Which sucks, ’cause my bunk was on that ship, and now my stuff is orbiting the damn moon with the rest of the debris.”

“We’re all that’s left,” Column said.