The Forgotten Chapter 4 – Laid to Rest Part 1

Previously

After stealing a Republic gunship, a mismatched crew barely escape an Imperial ambush. In a brutal dogfight, they destroy the pursuing fighters with grit and torpedoes. Now, guided by intel from analyst Sift, they approach the wreckage of a downed science frigate, buried in the desert, chasing a mystery that may prove more dangerous than the Empire itself.

This was my first attempt at running a horror-themed session. As a fan of zombie stories, I chose to base the scenario on the Rakghoul plague from Star Wars: The Old Republic.

One of the more engaging aspects of playing solo RPGs, rather than just reading or writing, is the unpredictable nature of the dice. It adds an emotional element to the experience that is often absent in more traditional storytelling methods. This chapter is a prime example of that.

I wanted a grueling and horrifying experience, and the dice delivered. For much of this chapter, the dice seemed to work against me, forcing me to struggle for every small success. I played through it over the course of several days, often making only one or two moves before putting the dice away in frustration and fatigue.

Repeatedly subjecting yourself to frustration and fatigue while playing a game might sound foolish, since games are supposed to be fun. What kept pulling me back was the emotional connection I was forming with the characters. I was not a passive observer of their struggles, and I could not simply pull them out of trouble just because I wanted to move the story forward. I had to go through the ordeal with them, and that made me care about them in a way I never would if I were reading someone else’s story.

“We can enter through the hull breach aft of the bridge,” Emkom said. “I’ll take my squad, move aft. Find the containment cell and specimen. You and Pevio go to the bridge. If the memory core’s intact, pull everything you can. Then destroy it.”

He paused. “Anything that moves on that ship is a threat. Eliminate with extreme prejudice.”

Pevio raised an eyebrow. “What if it’s one of the original crew?”

“There is no crew. Only the dead. And the infected.”

“Charming.” She snorted. “Column, sure you don’t want me to stay here and babysit the ship?”

“Grab your kit, time to earn our pay.” Column replied, donning his helmet and heading for the loading ramp.

(Move: Explore a Waypoint. Action Scorel: 2+1=3. Challenge Dice: 6, 7. Miss! Paying the price, d100=59, my equipment or vehicle malfunctions.)

Author Note: That last move should have been undertaking an expedition, not exploring a waypoint. But it serves as a nice scene setter anyway.

The team entered through the tear in the hull—jagged plating peeled back like broken teeth. They climbed in slow, careful, boots scraping bulkheads, hands steady on sharp steel.

Inside, Emkom lifted his comm. Static.

Column saw his lips move but heard nothing over his helmets internal headset. He tapped the side of his helmet. No signal.

“Either the jamming system stayed on after the crash—which I doubt, given the power’s out—or we’ve got a leak in the engine core spitting out interference,” Emkom said.

He turned to the others. “Sift, go with Column and Pevio to the bridge. Use your powerpack to bring up the main computer. Get what you can. Then meet us at the containment cell. You know the layout—guide them.”

Column nodded once. Pevio gave a lazy salute.

(Move: Undertake an Expedition, moving with Vigilance and rolling +Wits. Action Score: 2+1=3. Challenge Dice: 10, 4. Miss again! I am waylaid or arrive at a waypoint to confront an immediate threat. Pay the Price: d100=84, Column is stressed! I take -1 to spirit bringing me to 4.)

They moved in silence. The ship swallowed them. Corridors bent and cracked. Support beams jutted like broken limbs. Cable shrouds hung low, brushing their armor like dead fingers. The light from their helmets cut narrow paths through the dark—tight, twitching beams that barely held back the gloom. Everything stank of rust, old fire, and something worse.

They hadn’t gone far before they stumbled on a grisly scene—floors and walls smeared in a dark brown substance. Column, leading the way, stepped over the crusted area, then halted.

“That is—”

“Dried blood,” Pevio interrupted, recognizing it instantly. “A lot… a lot of dried blood.”

“And these scratch marks… they’re not from a blade. Something tore into solid steel,” Column said, running his fingers over the deep gouges in the wall. He turned to Sift. “If you know anything about who hijacked this ship, now’s the time to start talking.”

“I—I don’t know who took the ship. That’s the truth,” the comms specialist stammered.

“Something’s slicing through steel, and you’re wearing armor much softer than steel. Now’s not the time for secrets, my man,” Pevio said, her voice tense.

“Look,” Sift said, raising his hand in surrender. “All I know is that the pathogen this vessel was carrying is highly infectious. It can cause… unpredictable mutations in the infected.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you saying a crew member did this? That means the pathogen is out of containment, and we’re walking around inside a giant viral beaker,” Pevio’s voice trembled with rising panic.

“It’s not airborne. It’s only transmitted by fluids,” Sift said, trying to sound reassuring.

“Oh, that’s a relief. Good thing we’re not walking around in any bodily fluids,” she snapped, pointing at the dried blood. “If I grow a set of claws, I’m using them to tickle your liver… real hard, Sift.”

“No livers are getting tickled in here,” Column said flatly, ending the exchange. “Let’s get this job done.”

He moved forward, passing the blood-soaked corridor. His helmet light caught the silhouette of a massive, hunched creature. It was vaguely humanoid, with grotesquely muscular arms ending in thick, razor-sharp claws. Its elongated skull crowned a wide, lipless maw filled with jagged, uneven teeth. The creature opened its jaws—wide enough to swallow a helmet whole—and let out a soul-chilling screech that echoed through the dark halls.

(Move: Enter the Fray, a formidable encounter and I roll +heart with a bonus from Weapon Master asset. Action Score: 2+2+1=5. Challenge dice: 9, 9. Miss… for the third time. For the match, I will roll on the Action Theme table: 2d100=6, 55 “Arrive” and “Love”.)

Column leveled his blaster carbine and fired. Crimson bolts scorched the creature, punching into its flesh. It kept coming. Blaster fire didn’t slow it. With terrifying speed, it lunged.

The creature swatted the carbine aside—metal crumpled—and backhanded Column into the wall with a dull, bone-jarring thud.

Pevio hefted her blaster cannon, ready to cover him, but the shriek of metal behind her froze her finger on the trigger. She spun, helmet light catching a smaller, twisted figure—another mutant, this one oozing from open pustules.

“It’s got a friend!” she shouted, and opened fire.

(Move: Clash, at close range with +iron. I will use my Heavy Armor asset to preset my action die to 4. Action Score: 4+2=6. Challenge dice: 9, 5. Weak hit: I mark progress, bringing me to 1 of 10, but am dealt a counter blow. Pay the Price: d100=96… roll twice. 2d100=11, 38 “Face a tough choice” and “Lose something of value.”)

Column saw the second creature bearing down on Pevio. Her fire wouldn’t be enough.

He ducked under the larger mutant’s swing and charged the second, slamming into its chest, driving it back down the corridor.

“Make way!” he shouted, barreling past Pevio and Sift. The creature raised a claw, ready to strike, but Column drove his helmet up into its chin, staggering it. He raised both fists—one gripping a concussive grenade, the other raised in a middle finger. The blast tore the air. Both bodies flew back, skidding across the deck.

Column rose, staggering. His armor was scorched and fractured, most of it ruined—but it had held.

(Column will not be able to use his Armored asset until he has a chance to repair it.)

(Move: Clash, +edge. Action Score: 2+3=5. Challenge Dice: 4, 8. Weak hit, I reach 2 of 10 progress. Pay the Price: d100=76, you are harmed. That sounds about right. Dropping my health to 4 of 5.)

The three troopers leveled their weapons and opened fire. Blaster bolts tore through the dark, burning into mutated flesh—but the larger creature kept coming. It slammed its fists down on Column with bone-breaking force. Something popped in his shoulder. He grunted, staggered back.

(Move: React Under Fire, to try and put some distance between Column and the creature; rolling +edge. Action Score: 4+3=7. Challenge Dice: 3, 10. Weak hit, I must make a suffer move. I will lose 1 momentum dropping me to 3. I just can’t catch a break with the dice this session.)

Column fired a single shot from his heavy blaster pistol into one of the creature’s knees, throwing it off balance. He followed with a brutal kick to its chest, forcing it back a step. The move worked—barely—but opened space for the second creature to close in.

(Move: Clash, rolling +edge. Action Score: 2+3=5. Challenge Dice: 5, 7. Miss… again. Pay the Price: d100=10, I create an opportunity for my enemy.)

He leaned away from the monster’s claws, stepping back—too far. His shoulder pressed against Pevio. The thing surged forward, claws sweeping in toward the troopers.

(Move: Clash… again. Action Score: 6+2=8. Challenge Dice: 2, 1. Strong hit!!! I mark progress twice, bringing me to 4 of 10, and I finally gain control.)

Column steadied himself, drew his vibrodagger, and drove the blade deep into the it’s chest. It howled, stumbling back. He dragged the blade upward, tearing a ragged line through its torso.

(My Weapon Master asset allows me to take a strong hit once per fight when I make the Gain Ground move. I will use that asset now, mark progress to 5 of 10 and raise my momentum by 2, bringing me up to 5.)

As it staggered, Column raised his pistol and fired twice into its head at close range. The creature collapsed. Smoke curled from the ruin of its skull.

No time to breathe. The next one lunged over the corpse, claws slashing.

(Move: Gain Ground. Action Score: 4+3=7. Challenge Dice: 2, 5. I mark progress, going to 6 of 10 and raising my momentum to 7.)

Pevio and Sift stepped to the edges of the corridor, able to see—and fire—past Column’s shoulders on either side.

“Column, stay low!” she shouted, then unleashed a torrent of crimson blasts from her tri-barreled blaster cannon. Sift fired in bursts, shot after shot. The steady barrage slowed the charging monstrosity to a crawl.

(Move: Strike. Action Score: 5+3=8. Challenge Dice: 10, 10. Miss with a match! My luck had to end sometime. I will Pay the Price and roll for action and theme to get inspiration for the match. 3d100=58, 18, 63. My equipment or vehicle fails and “Challenge, Power”. Let’s turn this mess into a narrative.)

With sudden cunning, the creature ducked low, using Column as a shield. Pevio and Sift held fire. It surged forward, fast and brutal.

Column responded with the same move that had worked before. He drove his vibrodagger into the creature’s chest. The blade sank in—thick skin split, and acrid pus wept from the wound.

Then the blade sputtered. The vibro motor died in his hand. Column yanked the weapon back. The metal had melted. All that remained was a corroded sliver.

(Move: Clash. Action Score: 6+2=8. Challenge Dice: 6, 1. Strong hit! My progress goes to 8 of 10 and I am back in control.)

Author Note: This would have been a good point to make a progress move, but during my play I did not track my progress properly and thought I was at 6.

Despite the vibrodagger’s damage, Column took the shiv and drove it into the creature’s neck, lifting his blaster pistol to its chest and firing point-blank.

The creature staggered half a step. It was enough.

Column raised his boot and slammed it into its chest. Bone crunched. It stumbled back—just far enough for Pevio and Sift to light it up.

(Move: Strike. Action Score: 1+3=4. Challenge Dice: 9, 3. I will burn my momentum to turn this into a strong hit.)

Author Note: I was still using momentum improperly. Don’t worry, I will figure it out eventually.

(Move: Take Decisive Action. Action Score: 10. Challenge Dice: 6, 1. Strong Hit! I prevail, my momentum goes up to 3, and I go to 3 progress on my mission to secure the pathogen.)

As the creature reeled, the three soldiers stepped in tight—shoulder to shoulder. Their blasters roared, red bolts shredding it apart in a relentless torrent.

At last, the guns fell quiet. The barrels glowed pink. Smoke drifted upward in thin, curling ribbons. The thing lay in pieces. Steaming. Unrecognizable.

“Not to be a pessimist, but this ship had more than two crewmembers,” Sift pointed out. “We should get moving, and quick.”

“Sift,” Pevio said, tearing her eyes from the mess. “You are the worst.”

“You said this stuff passes through fluids. Are we in any danger of contamination?” Column asked.

“No,” Sift replied. “They never got close to Pevio and me. And despite the beating you took, your armor wasn’t compromised.” He gave Column’s armor a quick scan.

Satisfied—for now—they pressed on.

(Move: Undertake an Expedition. Action Score: 3+3=6. Challenge Dice: 4, 5. Strong hit. My progress goes to 6 of 10 and I reach a Waypoint. I will roll descriptor and focus tables for a prompt. 2d100=47, 96, for “Frozen” and “Viewpoint”. I think this waypoint is a mental one, not physical. It is a conversation Column and Pevio have with Sift, now they have seen what they are up against. It is Sift’s ‘viewpoint’ that remains unchanged or ‘frozen’.)

They moved through the twisted wreckage, boots echoing in the silence. Breathing hard. Adrenaline still fading.

Pevio’s nerves frayed from the fighting, the tension, and the darkness. She turned to Sift, her voice tight with exhaustion and anger.

“Why in this kriffing galaxy did we even come in here, Sift?” Pevio’s words were sharp, her tone edged with accusation. “We’ve got enough firepower on the Thunderclap to turn this wreck into a smoking crater. We should’ve just bombed the place and been done with it.”

Sift, breathless but steady, didn’t hesitate. “I didn’t know the pathogen had gotten out, Pevio. We needed to be sure it wasn’t stolen. The only way to confirm that was to get inside and check.”

She glared through her visor, voice low and tight. “And now we know it wasn’t stolen. Instead, it’s running bloody wild on this ship, and we’re stuck in the middle of it.”

Sift met her eyes. “There was no other choice. If that pathogen had been taken, and we just bombed the ship from orbit, we’d never know where it ended up. We couldn’t risk that kind of danger getting out into the galaxy.”

Pevio scoffed. “Yeah, well now that ‘danger’ is up close and personal. We’re not equipped for this kind of fight, Sift. This thing could tear us apart.”

Column, silent until now, spoke. “Enough. No point arguing. We can’t reach Emkom. Plan stays the same. Finish the mission, get the team, blow the ship.”

(Move: Undertake an Expedition. Action Score: 4+3=7. Challenge Dice: 7, 9. Miss. Pay the Price: d100=76, Column is harmed.)

They moved on in tense silence. Sift fell back a few paces, distance growing between him and the others. Column took point. Pevio watched the shadows ahead.

They came to a blocked corridor—half-collapsed and choked with wreckage. Column didn’t pause. He climbed into a jagged tear in the ceiling, pulling himself to the next floor.

He turned to reach for Pevio. The bulkhead beneath him gave out. Metal shrieked and Column fell.

He hit hard. A shard of steel punched through a gap in his armor, driving deep into the back of his knee. His grunt of pain was low, clipped.

Pevio was on him in seconds. “I got you, big guy.”

She dropped beside him, hands already working. Blood ran thick across the deck. Column’s jaw clenched, suppressing a cry.

(Move: Heal. Action Score: 2+2=4. Challenge Dice: 4, 7. Miss! My Sidekick asset allows me to reroll an action die when performing tasks that fall into my Sidekick’s expertise. Pevio’s expertise happens to be ‘combat medic’. Action Roll: d6=6, turning a miss into a Strong Hit! Great job Pevio. This brings me back up to full health.)

Pevio sliced through the under-armor and pried the shard free. Column let out a low groan as she pressed a clotting agent into the wound.

“Don’t be a pansy,” she muttered, driving a kolto syringe into the back of his leg.

His breathing steadied. He nodded, then pushed to his feet. The kolto kicked in fast—he walked with only a slight limp.

(Move: Undertake Expedition. Action Score: 2+3=5. Challenge Dice: 1, 4, for a strong hit bringing me to 9 of 10 progress. The waypoint that I reach will be the bridge, and it is time to wrap up this expedition. Move: Finish an Expedition. Action Score: 9. Challenge Dice: 9, 6 for a weak hit. I reach my destination but face an unforeseen complication.)

They advanced in formation, breaching the bridge cleanly. No hostiles. Sift moved fast, clamping a power pack to the ship’s main terminal. Systems flickered, then hummed to life. He began the download.

“This’ll take a minute,” he muttered. “You might want to get comfortable.”

“Comfort?” Pevio snorted. “I haven’t known comfort in over a month. Doubt I’ll find it here with you two.”

---

Elsewhere on the ship, Emkom, the Jedi Tarah, and their troopers—Gro’keh and Darius—moved through a corridor choked with silence until they reached a sealed set of blast doors.

“Get it open,” Emkom said, voice low.

Gro’keh worked the panel. A pause. Then a shake of the head.

“No good,” he said. “Manual release is on the other side. No power, it’s just 800 kilos of dead weight.” He knocked on the hull with his knuckles.

A flicker of light danced through the hallway.

Emkom turned toward it. “Sift’s got power running. Try it now.”

Gro’keh moved fast. This time, the doors groaned and parted, just enough to squeeze through. He turned, gave a triumphant thumbs-up—

The mutated paw came fast.

Clawed. Massive. It punched through the gap and clamped around him. His armor cracked under the pressure. His scream was cut off as he was pulled into the dark. The others drew weapons. Too late.

Only blood remained—and the silence beyond the door, deeper now, heavier. Waiting.