The Broken Fence
It was one of those forgotten backwater planets the Wayfinder drifted through every few cycles - out on the galactic fringe, off the major hyperspace lanes. No traffic. No questions. Exactly the sort of place where one of their most reliable fences operated. Low profile, clean credits, and a strict policy of not asking how you got the goods.
Brains didn’t like it the moment the comms went dead.
“No handshake signal,” the Twi’lek muttered from the ramp, fingers dancing across his datapad. “No reply on any of his usual frequencies. Just static.”
Spike shifted his weight, wincing slightly as he rolled his injured shoulder.
“Last time that happened, it was Jawas. I’m still not convinced they don’t follow us.”
Jugro snorted, checking both blaster pistols.
“And last time before that, we walked into a nest of battle droids.”
With Cap’in still laid up from the previous job, Brains took point - quietly, efficiently. He raised a fist and the crew fanned out: Jugro, Mon Kir, Choppa, 5E, Momaw Nadon, Winnwakka, Spike, and Brains himself moving low across the rolling hills toward the valley homestead.
Choppa glanced back at the ship as they advanced.
“Captain’s gonna be real annoyed if this turns into another mess.”
Brains didn’t look away from the terrain. At first glance, the place looked intact - house standing, power still faintly humming. Before anyone could comment, a flash of movement caught their eye.
Reddish-brown. Low to the ground. Fast.
Jugro hissed, “I saw that. Please tell me that wasn’t another shapeshifter.”
The thing darted along the edge of the yard, rounded the corner of the house, and vanished inside.
A tap on Brains’ shoulder made him stiffen. Spike was pointing toward the opposite ridge.
Figures. Armed. Moving with purpose.
“Company,” Spike said flatly. “And they’re not sightseeing.”
Brains weighed the situation in a heartbeat.
“Two unknowns. One inside, one incoming. Our contact is either in trouble or already gone.”
Mon Kir’s visor angled toward the house.
“If there’s tech or credits here, someone else knows it.”
Brains nodded once. He drew his blaster rifle.
“If our contact’s alive, we pull him out. If he’s dead…” he paused, eyes hardening, “…we make sure we’re the ones who leave with whatever’s left.”
Winnwakka growled in agreement, Jugro flicked his safeties off, and 5E stepped forward with mechanical precision.
Brains raised his hand and brought it down.
“Wayfinder - move.”
Background
This scenario is inspired by the Stargrave mission of the same name. To bring the scenario into alignment with the Fistful of Lead: Galactic Heroes ruleset, we adapted elements from Stargrave to better fit the fast-paced, cinematic action of Galactic Heroes.
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| L to R, Rootfang, Barkon, Saprin, Luma, Thornak |
Turn 1
The Wayfinder crew advanced from one side of the target building as their Revwien rivals closed in from the opposite approach, both groups moving cautiously through the broken terrain.
The structure itself sat inside an electrified force-fence, its crackling energy casting pale arcs of light across the ground. Shapes moved within the compound - quick, low, and restless.
Brains narrowed his eyes.
“Ferrox,” he muttered. “Mean, territorial, and fast. Keep your distance if you value your limbs.”
Mon Kir swept his visor left and right, spotting disturbed soil along the fence line.
“They burrowed under the perimeter. Dug themselves in. That might be our way inside.”
Jugro glanced sideways at him, smirking.
“Our way? What, you planning to just fly over it?”
Brains cut in before Mon Kir could respond.
“Yes, he could fly in with his jetpack,” he said flatly. “And no, he won’t. Once he’s inside that fence, we can’t support him. The field will block our fire.”
Mon Kir inclined his helmet in agreement, accepting the call without argument.
5E stepped closer to the fence, head tilting as sensors whirred.
“Anomalous energy readings detected. Fence integrity compromised. Power surges are intermittent. Climbing may be possible with acceptable risk parameters.”
Spike frowned at the crackling arcs of energy.
“Acceptable to you, maybe. I vote for the tunnel. I’ve already been shot enough recently - I don’t need electrocution added to the list.”
Brains gave a short nod.
“Underground it is. Quiet, controlled, and less likely to turn us into glowing skeletons.”
Jugro checked his blasters and grinned.
“Good. I was never a fan of fences anyway.”
With that, the crew shifted their approach, angling toward the breached ground as the Ferrox skittered somewhere beyond the humming field, unseen - but very much aware they were no longer alone.
Turn 2
The Wayfinder crew angled toward one of the exposed tunnels, keeping low and moving with practiced caution.
Unbeknownst to them, the Revwien had reached the same conclusion 5E had earlier - whether through instinct or hard-earned experience. Having crept up to the force-fence in the previous moments, the Revwien tested their luck. One by one, they scaled the crackling barrier and dropped down inside the compound.
They thought they were silent.
They were wrong.
A Ferrox burst from the shadows in a blur of claws and teeth, launching itself straight at Luma. The Revwien barely had time to react. The creature hit hard, bowling Luma to the ground. The fight was over almost as soon as it began - Luma lay still, out of the fight.
Mossira, the Revwien medic, swung her blaster up and drew a bead on the Ferrox. She squeezed the trigger.
Nothing.
Her shoulders sagged for half a heartbeat as she realized the power pack was dry. If Revwien had a word for frustration, she was definitely thinking it.
Elsewhere, Saprin climbed fast, hauling himself up the side of a nearby storage tower. Reaching the summit, he settled in and unfolded his heavy blaster. From this elevated perch, nearly the entire battlefield lay in his sights.
The hunt had truly begun.
Turn 3
Spotting the rest of the Wayfinder crew disappearing into the tunnel below, Mon Kir thumbed the ignition on his jetpack.
“Going high,” he muttered over the comms.
Jugro looked up just in time to see him sail past.
“Show-off,” the Rodian muttered, jogging for cover.
From above, Mon Kir took in the scene in a single sweeping glance. The Ferrox had already torn through the Revwien line - Luma lay crumpled on the ground, unmoving.
“Confirmed hostile fauna,” Mon Kir reported calmly over comms. “One Revwien down. I’m landing high - somewhere it can’t reach me.”
“Yeah,” Mon Kir said grimly, adjusting his descent, “not landing anywhere that thing can jump.”
Across the compound, Saprin tracked the creature through his scope as it turned toward Mossira. The Ferrox coiled, ready to spring.
“Hold still…” Saprin murmured.
Two sharp blasts cracked through the air. The Ferrox stumbled mid-leap and collapsed in a heap, dead before it hit the ground.
Mossira flinched, then looked up.
“…Acknowledged,” she said, exhaling. “You just bought me my life back.”
She snapped a fresh power pack into her pistol, hands suddenly steady again.
Elsewhere inside the compound, the Revwien leader Thornak knelt beside a half-buried console. He lifted a data crystal, its surface catching the light.
“I have something,” Thornak said quietly, tendrils curling around the crystal as he began the download. “Whatever happened here, it was worth hiding.”
On the far side of the yard, Jugro skidded to a halt beside another glint of light in the dirt.
“Oho… looks like I’m not the only one shopping today,” he said, crouching as he reached for the data crystal. “Let’s see what secrets you’re worth dying for.”
The battlefield settled into a tense rhythm - blasters reloaded, data downloading, and everyone waiting to see who would make the next mistake.
Turn 4
Brains saw it before the others did - the subtle shift in movement, the way the Revwien were spreading out and pressing their advantage.
“Enough,” he snapped over comms. “We’re losing tempo. Everyone inside the compound now. Tunnel or fence - I don’t care which.”
“Aye,” came Choppa’s gravelly reply.
Spike added, “If I get fried by that fence, I’m blaming you.”
The Wayfinder crew surged forward. Some slipped through the tunnel entrance, weapons up. Others scrambled over the sparking fence, timing their climbs between power surges.
And that’s when it went wrong.
Brains stepped forward, scanning the yard - too focused on the big picture. He never saw Rootfang rise behind a stack of crates, halberd lifting in a smooth, practiced arc.
“Brains - !” someone shouted.
The blaster cracked. Brains spun and collapsed, clutching his side as he hit the dirt.
“I’m hit,” he growled “Still breathing… but that’s a wound.”
Behind the main building, Thornak’s datapad chimed softly.
“Download complete,” the Revwien leader said, securing the crystal. Without ceremony, he turned and began slipping away from the compound. “Objective achieved.”
Near a rusted console, Jugro swore under his breath as the data crystal refused to cooperate.
“Come on, come on… work with me here,” he hissed. The crystal flashed red.
“…Great. Useless.”
A chill crept up his spine.
Jugro froze, then slowly looked up.
A Ferrox stood on a ridge above him, newly arrived, its reddish-brown fur rippling in the wind. Its eyes scanned the compound - but not him.
Jugro swallowed.
“Okay… okay… you didn’t see me. We’re both happy.”
For a heartbeat, the battlefield went quiet.
Then the fence screamed.
The forcefield surged back to full power in a violent pulse, arcs of energy ripping across the perimeter. Anyone too close was thrown backward in a shower of sparks, armour ringing as shock rippled through them.
“Fence is live!” someone yelled.
With Brains down, Spike took over instinctively.
“Roll call,” he barked into comms. “Sound off - now.”
Responses crackled in, one by one.
“Jugro - still breathing.”
“Mon Kir - holding position.”
“5E - operational.”
Spike frowned.
“Choppa,” he said. “You there, you okay buddy?”
There was no answer.
Instead, a thunderous Wookiee roar echoed across the compound.
Spike spun just in time to see Winnwakka kneeling beside a fallen figure. The energy pulse had caught Choppa mid-move, hurling him hard into the deck. He lay still.
Spike clenched his jaw.
“…Choppa’s out of the fight.”
The comms went silent again - this time, heavier than before - as the Wayfinder crew realized the battle was slipping further out of their control.
Turn 5
Despite Choppa’s fall, the Wayfinder crew caught a brief, much-needed break.
“Got something!” Momaw Nadon called over comms, backing away with a heavy crate clutched in his broad hands. “Physical loot. Solid. Worth the risk.”
“Good,” Brains muttered, slapping a medpack against his side. The injector hissed, numbing the worst of the pain. He forced himself upright, jaw clenched.
“Still in this.”
He raised his blaster and fired - once, twice. Both shots went wide.
“Blast it,” Brains growled. “Hands are steady… body’s lying.”
A furious roar cut through the compound.
Winnwakka vaulted the fence in a single, powerful leap, landing hard inside the perimeter. He beat his chest and snarled at the Revwien, every step promising violence.
On the far side, 5E emerged from the tunnel, optics locking onto Rootfang.
“Threat priority reassessed,” the droid intoned flatly. “Engaging in close combat.”
Rootfang turned, halberd already in motion.
“Predictable,” the Revwien hissed.
The clash was brief and ugly. A flash of energy, a sharp crack - and 5E was hurled backward, collapsing in a twitching heap.
“5E is… non-responsive,” the droid’s voice stuttered before cutting out entirely.
Then Rootfang moved like a storm given purpose.
Plant-sap adrenaline surged through his veins as he swung the halberd up, sighting along its barrel.
Brains barely had time to look up.
“Brains - move!” Spike shouted.
Too late.
The shot struck home. Brains dropped, hitting the ground hard, his blaster skittering across the dirt.
Rootfang pivoted smoothly, already tracking his next target.
Winnwakka roared.
Rootfang fired again.
The blast slammed into the Wookiee’s chest. Winnwakka staggered, let out a final, defiant growl and collapsed beside the fence.
Three Wayfinder crew down.
Silence followed, broken only by the crackle of the forcefield.
High above, Mon Kir finished off the last Ferrox with a controlled burst. He turned back toward the compound and froze.
“…What in the void just happened?” he muttered.
He keyed his comms, voice suddenly sharp.
“Status report. Anyone still standing?”
A pause.
Spike answered first. “I’m up. Shaken, but alive.”
Another beat.
Jugro whispered, “I’m… uh… still here. Currently playing hide-and-don’t-die with a Ferrox.”
Mon Kir exhaled slowly.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Spike confirmed grimly.
Behind them, the Revwien wasted no time. With Rootfang clearing the way, they surged into the building, tendrils and weapons ready, intent on stripping the place of anything valuable.
Mon Kir tightened his grip on his rifle.
“Hold on,” he said quietly. “We’re not done yet, but this just got very bad.”
Turn 6
Revwien voices echoed from inside the building - sharp, clicking syllables layered with urgency. Mon Kir tilted his helmeted head, listening.
“They’re sweeping the interior,” he said over comms. “Spike, I’m moving in. Cover me.”
Spike’s reply came strained but steady. “You’ve got it. I’ll keep their heads down - just don’t take your time.”
Outside, Rootfang turned his attention back to the open ground.
He spotted Spike and raised his halberd-blaster.
Spike fired first. The shot missed.
Rootfang stepped through the return fire, unfazed.
“Your resistance is… noted,” Rootfang rasped.
A precise burst answered Spike’s bravado. The blast punched through his cover, catching him square in the chest.
Spike gasped, armour smoking as he collapsed onto his back.
“Guess… I should’ve… worn thicker plating,” he muttered before going still.
Turn 7
Blaster fire cracked through the interior of the building as Mon Kir exchanged shots with Barkon and Mossira. Sparks flew from shattered consoles and scorched wall panels.
“Too many angles,” Mon Kir growled, ducking back behind a support pillar as return fire chewed through the air where his helmet had been a second earlier.
Mossira clicked something sharp and urgent in Revwien, and Barkon didn’t hesitate. The pair lunged forward, snatching up the main loot.
“Grab it - now!” Barkon hissed.
Under covering fire, they vanished through the rear exit, slipping into the dust and scrub beyond the compound.
Outside, Rootfang stalked forward, halberd sweeping as he searched for new targets. His gaze dropped as he noticed something half-buried in the dirt - physical loot, glinting faintly.
Jugro, meanwhile, was doing what Jugro did best: staying alive.
“This is not hiding,” he muttered to himself as he ducked behind a rock outcrop. “This is… tactical repositioning.”
The Ferrox prowled past, snarling, just close enough to make his heart hammer.
Turn 8
Inside the building, Mon Kir heard the retreating footsteps and cursed under his breath.
“Figures.”
He moved to disengage, slipping toward the exit, then froze.
Rootfang stood directly in front of him, tendrils writhing as he knelt to retrieve the loot.
For a heartbeat, neither moved.
Mon Kir raised his blaster rifle.
“For Cap’in,” he said quietly. “For Brains. For all of them.”
He fired.
The shot hit dead center. Rootfang jerked, staggered, and collapsed into the dirt, the loot spilling from his grasp.
Mon Kir lowered the rifle, exhaling hard.
“Revenge logged.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Jugro sprinting full tilt, a Ferrox snapping at his heels.
“Run faster, Rodian!” Mon Kir barked over comms.
“Way ahead of you!” Jugro yelled back, disappearing behind a rise.
Turn 9
Barkon and Mossira cleared the far edge of the field, loot secured, while Saprin finally climbed down from his sniper perch, only to be immediately ambushed by two lurking Ferrox.
Saprin’s scream was brief.
Mon Kir didn’t wait to see how it ended.
He ignited his jetpack, rocketing skyward and arcing back toward the Wayfinder as blaster fire and alien howls faded behind him.
Mission over. Survivors extracted.
Final Outcome
What began as a cautious investigation spiralled into a brutal firefight that left the Wayfinder crew reeling. In a single, devastating round, the Revwien enforcer Rootfang completely flipped the battle - cutting down three Wayfinder crewmembers in rapid succession. That moment cracked the crew’s momentum and gave the Revwien the opening they needed to disengage, escaping the compound with two loot tokens and banking 8 Renown Points.
The Wayfinder entered the job with 10 Renown Points already in the ledger. They gained +3 Renown from their Legendary Team trait, but managed to scrape together only +1 Renown from the mission itself. That leaves the crew sitting on 14 Renown Points, with some hard decisions ahead about recruitment, upgrades, and recovery.
And then there’s the roster.
Five Wayfinder crewmembers were taken Out of the Fight, each roll carrying consequences:
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5E rolled a 1 – Full recovery. The droid will be operational for the next game.
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Spike rolled a 2 – Full recovery. He returns immediately.
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Choppa rolled a 6 – Full recovery, but he’ll miss the next job.
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Winnwakka rolled a 10 – Fatal.
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Brains rolled a 10 – Fatal.
Two natural tens is about as cruel as the dice can be.
Ordinarily, that would mean two permanent losses - but the Luck rule allows one crewmember to be pulled back from the brink. After a long, quiet discussion aboard the Wayfinder, the choice was made.
Brains lives.
Which means that Winnwakka, loyal warrior and shield of the crew, succumbed to his injuries.
The Wayfinder flies on - wounded, poorer than expected, and missing one of its strongest hearts.
Epilogue
The Wayfinder drifted at the edge of the system, engines idling, stars sliding slowly past the cockpit glass. No one was in a hurry to go anywhere.
In the common room, the surviving crew gathered in uneasy silence.
Jugro broke the quiet first, slumping into a chair and rubbing his temples.
“…He should’ve been here. Big guy always was.”
He swallowed. “Every time something ugly showed up, Winnwakka just… stood there. Like the galaxy had to go through him first.”
Spike leaned against the bulkhead, arms folded across his chest. For once, his voice was low, stripped of bravado.
“He took hits meant for the rest of us. More than once.”
A pause. “That kind of armor doesn’t come off a rack.”
Choppa rested his halberd across his knees, staring at the deck.
“He didn’t run. Didn’t hesitate.”
He clenched his jaw. “When things went bad, he charged. Always.”
Brains sat at the table, a medpatch still visible at his collar. He hadn’t spoken since they’d returned. Now he finally looked up.
“Statistically,” he said carefully, “his actions increased our collective survival odds in every engagement he fought in.”
He hesitated, then added more quietly,
“We are alive because of him.”
The words settled heavily in the room.
Mon Kir removed his helmet and set it down, Mandalorian discipline barely masking the weight behind his eyes.
“In my culture,” he said, “we remember warriors by what they held the line against. Winnwakka held the line against impossible odds.”
He inclined his head. “That’s a death worth naming.”
5E stood motionless near the doorway, optics dimmed.
“Crewmember Winnwakka: status - deceased,” the droid intoned.
After a moment, it added, almost hesitantly,
“Combat effectiveness: exceptional. Loss impact: significant.”
No one corrected it.
Brains reached into a storage locker and pulled out a small, battered item - a scorched power cell casing, claw-marked along one edge.
“He kept this after Endor,” Brains said. “Said it reminded him that survival was never guaranteed… but loyalty was.”
Spike took it and set it carefully in the center of the table.
Jugro exhaled slowly.
“…Next fight,” he muttered, “I’m not running first.”
Brains glanced at him, surprised - but said nothing.
Finally, Choppa stood and planted his halberd upright, resting both hands on it.
“The Wayfinder flies because of him,” he said. “And she’ll keep flying.”
One by one, the crew nodded.
Outside, the stars kept moving.
Inside, Winnwakka’s absence filled the ship, but so did the weight of what he’d left behind.
The wookie is gone...? Wow...bad luck! Sounds like it was a tough fight all the way around.
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