The Forgotten Chapter 5 – Laid to Rest Part 2

Previously

Column and Pevio joined the SIS agent Emkom and his team as they entered a derelict, infested ship that had crashed in the deserts of Jesart. Inside, they were forced to fight for their lives against the vessel’s infected, mutated crew while searching for a way to contain a deadly pathogen.

During these early sessions, I recorded my adventure journal on Discord. I had previously participated in several play-by-post games on the platform and developed a moderately effective method for formatting my posts. Discord is exceptionally user-friendly for the TTRPG community, offering bots for many of my favorite games that support in-system dice rolling. It was a comfortable and efficient place to begin my solo adventuring.

After more than a year of gaming, my solo adventuring server had grown quite crowded. I began exploring other systems and methods for recording my games, eventually deciding to create my own website—an online digital adventuring journal. Transferring my old adventures to the new site was relatively easy, a testament to how effective Discord had been as a recording tool.

This session is from August 2024. Despite the dice continuing to brutalize me, I still remember how much I enjoyed playing it.

The trek back through the wreck was tense but quiet. On edge from their encounter, the troopers moved in silence, scanning every shadow, every flicker. They passed the remains of the creatures with care and made it to the breached hull without incident.

They braced themselves, then pressed into the aft passages to find Emkom’s team.

(Move: Undertake an Expedition. Action Score: 3+3=6. Challenge Dice: 9, 10. Pay the Price: d100=79, “you are harmed.”)

The three moved with weapons ready into a wrecked lab. Broken glass crunched underfoot. Debris and scorched terminals lay scattered. A burnt chemical tang hung in the air, thick even through their filters.

They approached the far side. Column stopped short—something moved above. A long, sinewed arm reached down from a gap in the ceiling, claws spread for Sift’s neck.

“Sift, get down!” Column shouted. He spun and fired upward. Sift ducked. The claws snagged his pack instead, yanking him into the air.

Pevio stepped in. Her assault cannon barked a full burst. Blaster fire tore through the ceiling. The creature dropped—metal and meat crashing down with it, still gripping Sift. The weight snapped the pack’s straps, sending him flying into Column. They hit a console hard. Column grunted as pain flared through his ribs.

Pevio didn’t stop. She advanced, screaming, laying into the creature. Fire poured from her weapon. Bolts slammed into its body, burning and tearing. When the cannon fell silent, the thing was still—buried under steel and its own ruined flesh.

Column pushed up slow, breathing ragged. His side throbbed. Broken ribs, maybe bruised. He stood anyway.

Sift gasped for breath, bent over, hands on knees, shaking.

“You good?” Column grunted.

Sift didn’t answer.

Pevio turned, voice on edge. “You good, Sift?”

Between shallow breaths, he finally managed, “I just need a minute.”

Column checked Pevio. She gave him a quick nod. No injuries, just scorched nerves.

They found Sift’s pack near the corpse. Ruined. The portable computer and data it carried inside were torn open, riddled with shots.

“In my defense, that thing broke it first,” Pevio said, nodding at the wrecked monster.

Column stared at the pack, then shrugged. “Is what it is. Let’s find the other squad. Finish this job.”

(Move: Undertake an Expedition. Action Score: 4+3=7. Challenge dice: 10, 3. Weak hit. I mark progress, bringing me 6 of 10 but will lose 1 momentum dropping me to 7.)

They struggled through collapsed corridors and dead ends, finally finding a passage that led to the rear of the ship.

(Move: Undertake an Expedition. Action Score: 4+3=7. Challenge Dice: 3, 7. Weak hit. Progress: 9. I face peril. Tying this to a progress roll.)

(Move: Finish an Expedition. Action Score: 9. Challenge Dice: 9, 5. Weak hit. I reach my destination but face an unforeseen complication.)

Blaster fire cracked in the distance. It echoed down the dark hall, sharp and urgent.

Column, Pevio, and Sift ran toward the sound. The ship vibrated with each pulse of battle, the dread rising with it.

They hit a wide, dim chamber. Column slowed just enough to scan it—then raised his rifle.

Carnage.

Emkom and Jedi Tara fought five abominations. Two were massive, misshapen—mutated crew in shreds of uniform. Two more wore half-melted armor, fused to their flesh—Emkom’s troopers, twisted into monsters. And the last—once a kowakian monkey lizard on Emkom’s shoulder—now a clawed, snapping terror.

(Move: Battle, +Edge. Action Score: 3+3=6. Challenge Dice: 7, 5. Weak hit. Objective achieved, but at a cost.)

Emkom ducked and weaved through the chaos, Tara’s lightsaber his only shield. A brute charged. Tara’s blade met it mid-leap, slicing through limbs and neck in a single, brutal arc.

The others opened fire. Column, Sift, and Pevio unloaded on the next hulk. Blaster bolts cut through muscle and bone. The beast dropped, smoking.

The monkey-creature launched from the shadows. Emkom fired and missed. He caught it mid-air, slamming it aside. It hit the deck, skidding to a stop at Column’s feet.

Column stomped down, pinned it. Drew his sidearm. Fired until nothing remained but smoke and steel.

Then he looked up—and froze.

Two spined horrors rushed Tara, bodies warped and bristling, moving to flank. She spun. Her saber flashed. Two heads dropped. The bodies followed.

Silence.

Her saber hummed low, the only sound.

Then the bodies hissed.

They swelled.

Tara realized the danger too late.

They detonated, barbs spraying the room.

Column threw his arms up, shielding the others. Emkom dove for cover. Tara—too close—stood exposed.

The blast took her full.

When the smoke cleared, she was down. Spines pierced her chest, legs, arms—pinned her like a doll. Her saber lay dim beside her.

Column lowered his arms. His breath slowed.

Tara didn’t move.

Emkom rose from behind the console, his face drawn, exhausted. He stepped to Tarah’s body. It had already started to twitch—pathogen taking hold. Without a word, he aimed his blaster and fired a single shot into her skull.

Column stepped up beside him, laid a hand on his shoulder.

“We can backtrack. Fall back to the Thunderclap. Slag the place. Cut our losses.”

Emkom inhaled, deep and steady. He knelt, picked up Tarah’s lightsaber. His gaze moved from her to the two dead troopers nearby.

“The Republic’s best chance for a vaccine is in this ship’s lab. We destroy that, this was all for nothing.”

Column nodded, looked back at Pevio.

She shrugged. “Yeah… sure. Why not.” Her eyes lingered on the bodies. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

(I am going to mark progress on my vow to reclaim or destroy the lost science vessel, twice. Once to find the squad, once for finishing this fight. This brings me up to five progress.)

(Move: Undertake an Expedition. Action Score: 4+3=7. Challenge Dice: 10, 5. Weak hit. I mark progress but make a -2 suffer move. I will drop my momentum to 5.)

They left the chamber without looking back, pressing deeper into the ship. More sealed doors blocked the way.

Sift’s tech, Column’s muscle, and a few well-placed charges kept them moving forward.

(Move: Undertake an Expedition. Action Score: 6+3=9. Challenge Dice: 3, 7. Strong hit!)

They breached the final blast doors and entered the barracks. Rows of portals opened into cramped bunk rooms, two beds each.

They split into two pairs and cleared the rooms one by one, searching for more infected.

(Move: Explore a Waypoint. Action Score: 6+1=7. Challenge Dice: 5, 10. I uncover something interesting, but it is bound up in a peril or reveals an ominous aspect of this place. Envision what you encounter. Then, take +1 momentum, up to 6.)

Halfway through the hall, they found the captain’s quarters. Column opened the doors, rifle raised. Empty.

He turned to leave. Emkom stopped him.

“The captain might’ve kept a log. We lost the bridge data—we might still find out what happened.”

Emkom moved through the room with practiced precision. He found a data pad tucked in the bedside shelf, powered it up, and began scanning the logs.

---

CAPTAIN’S LOG – HORIZON
CPT Elias Greaves, Commanding Officer
DATE RANGE: 4296.103.09 – 4296.119.22
CLASSIFICATION: A1 – EYES ONLY

4296.103.09

Set course for Coruscant with RG-Delta secured aboard. This pathogen is both our most dangerous and most valuable cargo—potential basis for a galaxy-wide vaccine. All containment protocols have been activated. Dr. Livia Carson, our lead virologist, assures me the virus is stable and secured.

Crew is solid. XO Devries is sharp, thorough as ever. CWO Malek knows this ship better than anyone. LT Jansen has the security detail locked down. I trust them. Still, having something like RG-Delta aboard changes the stakes. One mistake, one breach, and it won’t just be this crew paying the price.

4296.107.18

Minor power fluctuation on Deck 3. No systems critical to containment were affected, but that deck houses the quarantine lab. Malek called it a harmless glitch. Maybe. But my instincts say otherwise. Jansen has been directed to perform a full internal sweep—systems and personnel.

Carson kept her composure, but I could tell she’s worried. So am I.

4296.110.23

Second incident. Environmental controls on Deck 3 were tampered with—temperature raised by 10°C. Not enough to compromise the lab, but too close for comfort. Malek pulled the logs. This wasn’t random. Someone accessed the system manually.

No suspects yet. Jansen’s team is combing through access records. These events are too targeted to be coincidence.

4296.113.13

I brought my concerns to Devries. She pushed back—says her crew vetting was clean. I believe her, but something isn’t right. I’ve ordered a personnel audit anyway. We’ve narrowed lab access to Carson, Malek, three trusted techs, and myself. No one else.

Deck 3 now has full-time security coverage. Jansen is taking this seriously, as he should.

4296.116.21

Breach attempt on Carson’s lab. Outer access panel was tampered with. Fortunately, the inner quarantine chamber held. We got lucky.

I’ve ordered full lockdown of the quarantine unit. Only I can authorize access now. Carson’s shaken. I don’t blame her. Someone wants RG-Delta, and they’re getting bolder.

4296.118.06

No more doubt: we have a saboteur aboard.

Crew morale is degrading. Tensions are rising. Jansen’s investigation is ongoing, but we’re running out of time. Whoever this is, they’re careful. Calculated.

Devries still thinks it might be technical faults. Malek disagrees—and I do too. This is deliberate. We’re being hunted from within.

I’ve decided to force their hand.

4296.119.22

The trap is set. Malek staged a false failure in the quarantine chamber—made it look like the containment field is degrading. The word’s out. I want the saboteur nervous, rushed.

Jansen and his team are in position—hidden around the lab. Malek rigged the entry with a failsafe. Unauthorized access will trigger a full lockdown and trap them inside.

Now we wait.

I’ve got a strong feeling they’ll make their move tonight.

---

Emkom read the final log, powered down the pad, and tucked it into his pack.

“Anything interesting?” Column asked. His voice came flat through the helmet’s emitter.

Emkom shrugged. “More questions than answers.”

Column let it drop. Spies had their secrets.

(Move: Undertake an Expedition. Action Score: 3+3=6. Challenge Dice: 5, 10. I reach a waypoint and mark progress (bringing me up to 6) but the progress costs me. I make a suffer move -2. I think this suffer move is going to come as strain. I am already at 4 of 5. This will bring me down to 2 stress. This mission has been horrifically challenging on the team and they have seen some terrible things. Pressing deeper into the ship raises that mental and emotional pressure. I won’t narrate this. I have deliberately kept out of Column’s head and not told the story from his perspective.)

(Move: Undertake an Expedition. Action Score, 5+3=8. Challenge Dice: 10, 1. Weak hit. Four out of my last five moves, I have gotten a 10 on the challenge dice. This expedition is trying to kill me. I mark progress, which puts me at 6 of 10. I will face peril.)

The midship deck groaned—a long, hollow sound that echoed through bent corridors. Hull plating had warped from impact or rot, forcing them forward step by careful step. The corridor twisted as if crushed in a fist, floor becoming wall, ceiling tilting sideways.

Column led the way, scanning shadows and warped metal. He leapt a jagged break in the deck, landing smooth. Below, the ship’s guts yawned open, a graveyard of steel and bone.

Pevio followed. Her boots hit hard—and the deck gave a warning creak.

“Pevio!” Column turned as the floor collapsed beneath her. She fell, arms flailing, catching a length of bent piping. For a moment, she hung there, breath ragged, fingers slipping.

(Move: Face Danger. Action Score: 4+3=7. Challenge Dice: 6, 5. Strong hit! I am successful and my momentum goes up to 7.)

Column lunged, his hand clamping around her wrist. Muscles strained. She gasped for breath, legs kicking at the open air.

“Hold on!” he growled, hauling her up, inch by inch. Steel groaned around them.

With a final pull, he dragged her clear. She crumpled beside him, both of them breathing hard in the stale silence.

Between gasps, Pevio muttered, “Have I mentioned that I hate this kriffing ship?”

(Move: Undertake an Expedition. Action Score: 6+3=9. Challenge Dice: 9, 7. Weak hit. I am up to 8 progress and will once again face peril.)

“Yeah, you maybe mentioned that,” Column said. Matter of fact.

The derelict groaned like a dying beast. Metal shuddered around them, the hull giving a long, low rumble. Dust shook from the ceiling. The corridor trembled.

Column’s eyes snapped up. The ceiling bowed.

“It’s going to collapse!” he shouted. He grabbed Pevio’s arm and yanked her forward. Behind them, the corridor shrieked and twisted. Steel gave way. Shards of metal rained down, razor-edged and fast.

(Move: Face Danger. Action Score: 5+3=8. Challenge Dice: 7, 3. Strong hit! Marking progress.)

Column’s voice echoed through twisted wreckage. “Emkom! You hear me?”

A muffled voice came back through the rubble. “You injured?”

“We’re all right!” Column called, catching his breath. Dust clogged the air. “You’re not getting through here. Double back to the Thunderclap. We’ll head for the containment bay—recover what we can. We’ll find another way out. Meet you when it’s done.”

(Move: Finish an Expedition. Action Score: 8. Challenge Dice: 10, 6. Weak hit.)

Silence. Then Emkom’s voice, low and grim: “Good luck, troopers. May the Force be with you.”

Pevio scoffed. “The Force? I could use another satchel of grenades and a stiff drink.”

Column shouldered his rifle. “It’s close.” He nodded down the corridor.

Pevio stood, wiped her hands on her armor, hefted her cannon, and fell in behind.

(Move: Fulfill Your Vow Mission. Action Score: 7. Challenge Dice: 9, 6. Weak hit.)

Column entered the chamber first, barrel forward. Shattered glass littered the floor. Broken screens flickered on the walls. The central containment unit lay open and empty. A console sat cracked in half, vials shattered around its base. Blood streaked the debris.

He scanned the room, then lowered his rifle. Pevio stepped up beside him, gaze locked on the ruined containment cell.

“Column,” she said, voice low and tight, “have I mentioned I really hate this lousy, kriffing ship?”

They’d lost the flight data in a brutal fight. Only Emkom and Sift survived. Most of the squad had turned—and been put down. Now, the lab was wrecked. No samples. No evidence. Nothing to recover.

Pevio pulled off her helmet. Her face was streaked with sweat and maybe tears. “I mean it. I really… really hate this damned, kriffing ship.”

Column removed his helmet. Ran a hand through damp hair. He placed it on her shoulder, firm and steady. “Yeah… you’ve maybe mentioned that.”

They stood in silence. When Pevio’s shoulders eased under his grip, Column asked, “Feel better if we blow it to hell?”

She shrugged. “Yeah… probably.”

Helmets back on, they turned away. Footsteps heavy. Done with this place.

Emkom and Sift waited outside the Thunderclap. The SIS agent took the news in silence, jaw clenched. He didn’t blame them—not out loud. Sift said nothing, eyes hollow, lost in the aftershock.

Once Emkom composed himself, the four stripped down and piled their armor and gear near the wrecked ship. After decontaminating their skin, they reboarded the Thunderclap, took turns in the refresher, and donned simple Republic military-issue flight suits. With no spare boots available, they walked barefoot as they prepared the ship for departure, while Pevio loaded the torpedo launcher.

Column lifted off, set the ship in hover. Emkom joined them on the bridge, eyes locked on the ruins below.

“We’re in position,” Column said. “Cleared to fire.”

Pevio lined up the shot. Her hand hovered over the controls. She glanced at Emkom. “They were your people. If you want…”

Emkom blinked, caught off guard. “I—yes. It should be me. Thank you.”

She stepped aside. Emkom took the controls.

Three torpedoes launched. Explosive fire engulfed the wreck. The inferno would burn for hours.

They watched in silence. When it was done, Emkom cleared his throat. “I should check on Sift.”

He left the cockpit.

Engines warmed. Column keyed in the return course to Eliad Spaceport.