A long time ago, in an open-plan office
far, far away…

Episode IV½

A New Middle Management

It is a period of civil paperwork. The Rebellion has won its first victory against the Group, largely because nobody signed off the defence budget before the end of the quarter.

Corporate compliance officer DARTH MERDER — a name he chose personally, and which means, in four major languages, exactly what you think it means — has obtained the secret plans to the Merder Star, photocopied them twice, and filed them in the wrong drawer. They have not been seen since.

Pursued by HR, he races home to restore freedom to the galaxy — right after this one email, and right after somebody, anybody, finally tells him about the name….

The helmet of Darth Merder, photographed for the staff directory

The official unofficial shrine to

DARTHMERDER

Dark Lord of the Shit. Regional Manager, Sector 12.
He chose the name himself. Nobody has ever had the heart.

▶ Swat the Stormshit (a game) ▶ Darth Merder on TikTok
4languagesin which it means that
0planets destroyedbudget pending
11printers destroyedthis quarter alone
0people brave enoughto sit him down and explain

A note on the name

Merder

/ˈmɜːdə/ · noun, proper

  1. The self-chosen title of the Dark Lord of Sector 12.
  2. In Italian, French, Romanian and one dialect of Outer Rim Basic: excrement. Or the adjective. Both work.

Etymology: he wanted something that sounded like murder. He got close. He got very close.

He picked it himself, at nineteen, in a bedroom, out loud, several times, in front of a mirror.

The Chairman knew. The Chairman said nothing, because the Chairman found it funny and the Chairman does not get many of those. The admirals knew. The Stormshits absolutely knew — you can hear it in the salute.

Four decades on, Lord Merder has choked eleven men for insubordination and not one of them, not one, used their last breath to tell him. That is either fear or kindness. In this galaxy it is generally both.

He is the Dark Lord of the Shit.
He is, specifically, the crap one.

Who is Darth Merder?

Nobody is entirely sure. He appeared in Sector 12 nineteen years ago holding a clipboard, and everyone was too frightened to ask which department he was from. He has since been promoted four times.

The Brown Side

He can crush a man's windpipe from across a room. He mostly uses this to close doors he is too far away to reach. It is, and he would hate this word, a bit rubbish.

The Voice

Deep. Cavernous. Slightly nasal on Mondays. Says his own name at the start of every call, and every call has a small silence after it.

The Cape

Dry-cleaned monthly. Has been caught in the same lift door eleven times. He refuses to discuss it.

The Signature

Signs off every transmission — Lord Merder, in full, in bold. He thinks it lands. It lands.

The Sector 12 personnel file

Everyone who works with him, near him, or on him. None of them have mentioned the name either. Staff photographs from the Group directory, taken under protest.

The Baddie: a Muscan in white armour and black square sunglasses at the controls of a ship, smiling slightly

The Baddie

Stormshit. Co-pilot, Sector 12

Muscan, his co-pilot, technically his subordinate. On the ship she takes the orders. At home she takes the wall, the colour chart and the decision. She has opinions on the Merder Star, the cape and the name, and has shared exactly two of them.

We make such a good team.
Baba Debt: a broad reptilian alien in a dark blue coat, smiling very slightly

Baba Debt

Intergalactic debt collector

Polite. Patient. Has never once lost anyone. He does not come to fix things, he comes to collect, and he has Lord Merder’s expenses file in the briefcase. He is in no hurry. That is the frightening part.

You can run. Interest follows.
The Shitlorian: a figure in worn orange armour and a graphite helmet with a single amber visor

The Shitlorian

Freelance. Escorts, recoveries, repairs

Never removes the helmet. Will fix the Merder Star, and fix it properly. Every change to the brief is billed, and Lord Merder has changed the brief forty-one times. The invoice is longer than the station.

That costs extra.
Princess Mierda: a woman with an asymmetric black bob and a silver streak, in an aubergine coat, smiling knowingly

Princess Mierda

Diplomat. Aristocrat. Problem

Elegant, sarcastic, impossible to refuse. Turns one small favour into a galactic emergency before the coffee arrives. She and Lord Merder go back. How far back is not discussed, by either of them, ever.

Just one small favour.
Abdul Won Chernobyl: an old man in a mustard boiler suit with a long white forked beard and goggles on his forehead

Abdul Won Chernobyl

Old master. Reactor technician

Calm. Very calm. Every alarm on the Merder Star is, in his words, perfectly normal, including the ones he has not heard before. The tips of the beard glow slightly. That, he says, is also perfectly normal.

Perfectly normal.
Lars Shift: a young man with short curly hair and freckles in a blue work jacket, looking up wearily

Lars Shift

Junior clerk, Sector 12

Dreams of adventure. Receives shifts. Carries the folders, the keyboard and the overtime that nobody else wanted. Has not been told about the name either, but he is young, and he has started to have suspicions.

Is this paid overtime?
Mr President: a tall, thin, bald alien with grey-lavender skin and golden eyes, in a dark plum coat

Mr President

Chairman of the Group. Upstairs

Wants impossible results by Friday, with no budget, and mostly gets them. He knows what Merder means. He has known for years. He finds it funny, and he does not get many of those, so he is keeping it.

No pressure.
HR-2B: an ivory droid with a rounded screen for a head, two cyan eyes, a clipboard and a printer slot in its chest

HR-2B

Human Resources. Therapy droid

Courteous. Unflappable. Prints the form before you finish the sentence. Has grounded an entire fleet over one missing signature and would, if asked calmly, do it again. Session 402 with Lord Merder is ongoing.

Please complete the form.
TK-404: a Muscan soldier with red compound eyes and a headset, in scuffed white armour, holding a lunchbox

TK-404

Stormshit, Sector 12 garrison

Currently off-post. Has always been currently off-post. Lunchbox, thermos, headset: the equipment is ready, the soldier is not. Lord Merder approved his expenses in eleven minutes, and he would die for him. He probably will.

Currently off-post.

The Merder Files

Surveillance stills recovered from the Sector 12 archive. Some of these were taken by his mother.

A black-armoured figure presenting a declining graph to bored Muscan colleagues in suits
Q3 Fear ProjectionsTerror was up 4%. It later turned out to be a rounding error. Two analysts have not been seen since.
A black-armoured figure on a command deck staring at a duck, a Muscan officer looking away
“Sir. There is a duck.”“There is no duck.” There was, in fact, a duck.
Armoured figure in a floral apron at a suburban barbecue
Sausage dutyHe burns everything. On purpose, he says. Nobody has ever verified this.
A Muscan soldier in white armour standing at attention
Sector 12 garrisonThe sector has humans, droids, mosquitoes and everything else. It also has, for reasons nobody has established, a great many Muscans. Nobody recruited them. Nobody has found a polite way to raise it.
A black-armoured figure waiting in line among Muscans in coats
Ticket B-114Renewing his speeder licence. He has been in this queue since the Photocopier Wars.
A black-armoured figure on a treadmill while Muscans work out nearby
Cardio, 06:40The cape adds forty minutes to the changing room. He has considered leggings. He will not be discussing it.
Armoured figure singing karaoke on a small bar stage
Friday, The Rusty MawHe does My Way. Every week. Nobody in this galaxy has ever successfully said no.
Black helmet resting on a cluttered office desk
Desk 12-BThe plant died of natural causes. The investigation is ongoing.
Armoured figure at a viewport looking at a colossal half-built steel swirl in orbit
The Merder Star47% complete. The contractors stopped answering his calls in year three.

Crimes against the galaxy

Compiled by the Corporate Ethics Committee, who are also frightened of him.

  • Named himselfUnprompted. Unassisted. Without once saying it aloud to another living being first.
  • Microwaved fish in the Merder Star break roomClassified by the Senate as a war crime. Upheld on appeal.
  • Parked the FYI fighter across two baysOne of which was reserved. There is a note. He has not read the note.
  • The third-floor lavatory, stardate 4118The Group has sealed the deck. The Group will not be taking questions on this.
  • Hit reply-all to 40,000 StormshitsThen hit reply-all again to apologise for the reply-all.
  • Called the Chairman “boss” in front of the boardSilence lasted nine seconds. Survivors describe it as “longer.”
  • Writes “per my last transmission”He knows. He knows exactly what he is doing.
  • Process-choked the office printerIt was jammed. In fairness to Lord Merder, it is always jammed.
  • Books meetings that could have been a hologramRecurring. Weekly. No agenda. Ever.

What the galaxy says

“He is a competent employee.”

The Chairman — reference form, signed under visible duress

“On my homeworld that word is what you scrape off a boot. I have never mentioned it. I have a family.”

Admiral Vasq, Group Second Fleet

“He approved my expenses in eleven minutes. I would die for him. I probably will.”

TK-404, Stormshit, currently off-post

“Patient presents with unresolved anger, restricted airways, and one point four million unread messages.”

HR-2B, therapy droid, session 402

“Two stars. The canteen is fine but a large man in a helmet stared at my soup the entire time.”

Anonymous review, Merder Star Mess Hall

“I have never met him and I intend to keep it that way.”

L. Skyworker, freelance pilot

“He's honestly lovely once you get past the choking. And the name. Mostly the name.”

Deborah, Sector 12 reception

Choose your blade

The colour of this entire website is a lightsaber. Pick one. There are no consequences, which is itself a moral failure. One of these he built himself, in the dark, from a kit, and it is the one you are thinking of.

Join the Merder side

Not the dark side. The other one. The brown one. We have biscuits — they are the cheap ones, and there is never a full packet, and this, precisely this, is what the Merder side is.