Chronicler’s Note
Since before the Gap, dwarven miners used a custom numbering system known as “shifts” to determine the passing of time for their operations. This term is a modern adaptation of Old Golarion dwarven time metrics known as forge-days, which are still counted by some Star Citadel citizens. The exact time measurement of a dwarven shift is relative to the individual project, with some based around the need for rest cycles, while others could be delineated by the completion of specific milestones in a greater project. For example: the task of mining an asteroid with eight rich mineral deposits might be divided into eight shifts.The use of shift terminology to describe the stages of engagement and arrival of forces for the now infamous Battle of Aledra is believed to have originated with the retired dwarven miner, Brolmor Slagshout, who was instrumental in the early defense of the Triaxian town. Brolmor is known to be one of only a handful of pre-Pact Worlds combatants who refused to abandon the engagement zone throughout the entirety of the conflict. With records of the battle fragmentary on both sides, Pact Worlds officials have often used Brolmor’s description of shifts as a means of expressing the engagement’s order of battle.
–Shaleria Phrain, Starfinder Society Chronicler (320 AG).
Brolmor Slagshout was certain that he’d always lived from one disaster to another.
The former miner had survived the chaotic tragedy that claimed the dwarven settlement of Arngrannam. In the aftermath of that calamity, he decided not to join the majority of his kin when they went to build their first Star Citadel. Instead, Brolmor left dwarven society behind and settled somewhere that he hoped he could live out the rest of his days in peace. Unfortunately, in the decades following what everyone now called the Gap, peace was in short supply. Brolmor settled on the quaint Triaxian mountain settlement of Aledra as the perfect place to spend his final years.
And yet, Brolmor now faced a hulking, upright lizard wielding a tri-tipped powered weapon he’d never seen before.
Earlier in the day, Brolmor had begun his normal daily rituals as the soft light of the morning sun first illuminated his modest home on Aledra’s outskirts. Upon waking, he dressed in practical, comfortable clothes, made himself breakfast, and then prayed to Angradd, the new dwarven protector. Brolmor still wasn’t used to the high-mountain air, so he always took extra time to get ready, but he had wanted a life of peace and relaxation, so he savored his newfound pace. For breakfast, Brolmor had a simple quiche made from fish imported from Ignomus Bay; in his short time here, he had quickly taken a liking to the Triaxian delicacy. Praying to Angradd still felt strange to Brolmor, and he often wondered if he’d been a devout servant of Torag before the Gap, during which the patriarch of the dwarven pantheon—and de facto patron of dwarves everywhere—disappeared.
His daily rituals complete, Brolmor left for the market to pick up his weekly supplies. After restocking his food stores, he could spend the rest of the day preparing the week’s meals at home. He also hoped to pick up the latest installment of the Starfinder Chronicles if one was available, as he’d become a keen follower of the new broadcast series and thought the next volume would help fill his ample free time.
Stepping into the brisk morning air, Brolmor knew something was wrong before his front door had closed behind him. A small crowd of his neighbors—mostly Triaxus’s native ryphorians and immense dragonkin—stared skyward, mouths agape with terror and wonder. They pointed up at pinprick flashes in the cloudless sky, which created a scintillating light show so faint that the rising sun almost completely obscured it.
While the crowds murmured their theories of what was causing the strange events in the sky, Brolmor knew what was coming. He’d seen it during the final days of Arngrannam, and by the feeling he had in his old bones, he was sure he’d probably seen similar orbital displays in the part of his history now lost to him.
Shaking his head, the elder dwarf turned back into his home and prepared.
The first invaders fell from the sky on contrails of fire that afternoon.
They came in a swarm of drop pods and dropships, creating a cordon around Aledra. Smaller units of these unidentified invaders landed throughout the mountains and quickly set up short-range anti-aircraft batteries and communication jammers. Within minutes of the landing, the attackers had cut off all avenues of escape for Aledra’s citizens. Brolmor and his neighbors were on their own.
That’s when Brolmor emerged from his home, bedecked in his panoply of war. He wore the plated heavy armor that had served him in all his prior battles and clutched his powered axe, Rebranda. The weapon was from a life lost to Brolmor in the Gap, and while he knew the name of the weapon he carried, he had no knowledge of its origin. Perhaps the axe had been the name of a loved one, or it had been named by a prior owner. Brolmor would never know the truth, just as so many survivors of the Gap would lack context for much of their lives. He immediately set to work, barking orders at his stunned neighbors with an air of command.
Within thirty minutes, Brolmor had assembled Aledra’s most formidable combatants into a crude defense force, comprised mostly of retired military and former adventurers and the relatively minor security detail that the town employed to fend off bandits and encroaching monsters. Recognizing that Brolmor was clearly more experienced in military matters, even Aledra’s senior security chief instinctively deferred to the dwarf.
“I know when to listen to someone with more experience,” the unusually personable dragonkin security commander admitted before authorizing Brolmor to take his small contingent to meet the attackers outside the settlement.
It took only an hour from the attackers’ initial landing for their first scouting force to make its way to the edge of town. The immense lizard-like creatures came in thick armor and wielded impressive weapons unfamiliar to Brolmor.
No one on either side of the conflict spoke a word.
It remains unclear who fired the first shot, or why, but all accounts confirm that it came from the invaders. The shot missed its intended target, whatever it may have been, but the battle was begun. As if loosed from a cannon, Brolmor hurtled forward to defend his adopted home, bellowing a war cry like nothing his fellow Aledrans had ever heard. Blasts of laser energy and solid projectile rounds peppered Brolmor’s dwarf-wrought armor, with azure fields of energy deflecting the worst of the incoming damage. The invaders didn’t get a chance to release a second volley before the dwarven berserker had entered their ranks, a lone defender in a mass of scaled flesh and thrumming energy weapons.
That’s when the killing started.
The Battle of Aledra, by Tomasz Chistowski
Brolmor Slagshout, honoring his name with a wordless war cry, laid the first of the invaders low with a single swing from Rebranda.
“Let’s get to work then! First shift starts now!” Brolmor shouted at his companions, who roared in response and rushed from behind cover to join the fray.
Chronicler’s Note (Historical Accuracy)
Though the unnamed vesk soldier Brolmor Slagshout slew outside Aledra is considered the first casualty of the ground conflict, Ushataun Genrais is the first recorded casualty of overall battle. Genrais was a ryphorian maintenance worker in the employ of Sanjaval Spaceflight Systems and was onboard one of the orbital satellites at the time of the Veskarium vanguard’s arrival. Genrais was recorded as killed in combat after the Vindicas Tyrant-class starship, Firescale’s Resolve, obliterated the orbital he was stationed on with a disdainful ramming action before any invaders had made planetfall, thus preceding the events of the Battle of Aledra by several hours.
–Shaleria Phrain, Starfinder Society Chronicler (320 AG).The sun set on the terraced fields around Aledra.
Over the course of the afternoon and evening, reinforcements had managed to slip into the area under covering fire from aerial Triaxian defenders. Most of these additional forces joined Brolmor’s forces outside Aledra, though the battle quickly spread beyond the site of the initial skirmish. Now forces clashed within the settlement itself and throughout the surrounding mountain range, and the telltale signs of distant engagements soon assaulted the normally peaceful town just as the invaders had—rising smoke on the horizon, the concussive whump of far-off explosions, and the smell of ozone and blood carried inexplicably far by the thin air. Even the skies had become packed with fighters, low-orbit starships, and the tracer fire of anti-aircraft weapons fired by both attacker and defender alike.
Throughout the escalating war around him, Brolmor kept fighting. Through raw strength and sheer force of will, the dwarf never relented in battling against the invaders who suddenly threatened his adopted home. Allies fell all around him, unremarked on the ground, as Brolmor kept pace with those who stepped up to challenge him. The latest combatant was an intimidating foe, who entered the battle unhelmed and wielding a vicious tri-pointed energy blade, which is whirled in a wide arc. The lizard barked several syllables Brolmor assumed formed words in its native tongue, and smiled, as though the invader was enjoying the combat far more than Brolmor was.
Quick as a flick of its reptilian tongue, the lizard-foe lashed out at the dwarf. Even expecting the attack, Brolmor was caught unaware by the strike, and the tri-tipped blades were stopped only by the force field of Brolmor’s armor. The discharge pushed the enemy back half a step, and Brolmor deftly closed the distance as though the two were tethered to one another with an invisible cord. With his foe forced backward, Brolmor slashed with Rebranda in a wide arc of his own. Armor shattered under the axe’s impact, and the invader took a second step back, panting and wincing in visible pain.
Suddenly, a vast shadow fell over the combatants.
In the sky above, a macabre scene began to unfold. A stream of osseous vessels descended. The pristine bone-white of their hulls stained orange by the dying light of the setting sun. Red beams of light flashed down from the arriving ships, onto the battlefield like searchlights scanning the melee.
As if by instinct, Brolmor and his surviving allies, as well as the surprised invading forces, backed up from the battle line, a gulf quickly forming before the two forces as each reassessed the situation. Starring up at the sky, Brolmor wondered if these newcomers—he recognized them as the starships of the dreaded undead from the world of Eox—had come as friend or foe.
“Well, friends,” he muttered dryly, scanning the awed, upturned faces of his compatriots, “looks like the second shift is about to begin!”
About the Author
Thurston Hillman is the Starfinder Society Organized Play Campaign Developer. He lives in the frigid ice deserts of Canada, where he's written and developed several products for both Starfinder and Pathfinder. Prior to working at Paizo, Thurston worked in the aviation and technology fields where he travelled the world for several years. You can find Thurston on Twitter at @OnCallGM.
About Tales From The Drift
The Tales from the Drift series of web-based flash fiction provides an exciting glimpse into the setting of the Starfinder Roleplaying Game. Written by members of the Starfinder development team and some of the most celebrated authors in tie-in gaming fiction, the Tales from the Drift series promises to explore the worlds, alien cultures, deities, history, and organizations of the Starfinder setting with engaging stories to inspire Game Masters and players alike.
Tales from the Drift: First Shift
Wednesday, October 21, 2020
