Hector Von Ricmore
Nal Hutta

The encounter with the Coruscant broker had been bizarre, ending a conversation with a Mando’a phrase was unusual. The Clawdite had no idea what the man had said as he did not speak the language.

Truth be told, the longer he spent among Mandalorians the more he found them grating. Many, but not all, of the Mandalorians he encountered had been arrogant in their skill and pretentious in their attitude. The galaxy required a more flexible demeanor in Hector’s opinion, if one was to truly thrive out here in the unknown regions.

The trip to Hutta had been uneventful. The mere sight of his heavily armed Gozanti deterred most pirates. Those with the firepower to potentially take his vessel had difficulty keeping up with the speed of the C-ROC retrofitted ship. This was meant to be a relatively simple bounty; the Force user was content to avoid excess troubles.

It cost an exorbitant fee to access the primary landing platform at Nal Hutta, the slimy creatures who ran the world always eager to make a quick credit. The bounty would pay off such a fee, but it still left Hector grumbling as he boarded his landspeeder and left the platform.

Nal Hutta was a filthy cesspit of the galaxy. But the Hutts were no fools. Crime was allowed, even encouraged, some might say. Yet the overlords kept tabs on everyone. Information was rife for the taking if one knew where to look, and had the credits to spare.

Hector traveled about an hour away from the platform in his landspeeder. His destination? An old Hutt safe house run by a self styled gangster named Thorn. The Weequay was one of many who kept tabs on the visitors of Hutta. And he was a being that could be bought.

The bribe was a half ton container of spice, produced at the spice refinery owned by Juda Graves prior to his disappearance. The Clawdite reminded himself to check on the building in the future. After the Clan Vizsla leadership change many of their records had been deleted with little explanation, he could find no mention of the old production building, or even his shop for that matter.

But now was not the time to dwell on such matters. He had a target to secure.

Thorn had accepted the spice eagerly. And he was willing to share what he knew.

”Porgaan Ranguad eh? Twitchy little thing. The rodian landed two rotations ago. Took a bit to get ‘is bearings with ‘im jumping at shadows. Last I heard the coward was in town for black market blaster modifications. You know how they are Hector. They feel like a big man when they carry a big gun.”

He did know indeed. In unfamiliar territory and surrounded by enemies the Rodian wanted a safety line. A better blaster wasn’t a bad way to do it.

Thanking Thorn for his help, Hector returned to his landspeeder and began the trip to the nearby town. Radian’s packed one hell of a stench; Porgaan would not be difficult to find.

The waiting was the hardest part.

Hector found himself in a local establishment, The Drunken Dactyl. The owner, a Kaminoan named Naila Ke, would serve anyone provided they had the credits to spare.

With his coin purse a little lighter; Hector had a small table to himself. He waited patiently for his target and took the time to enjoy a meal. Today he had chosen to indulge in landshrimp and kaadu skewers with extra butter.

While he waited he pondered how he would deal with his target. Guile and lies were certainly an option but he felt the need to test himself. To make sure he hadn’t yet gone soft.

Before long he caught the stench of something truly vile. And then the visual of his target, accompanied by the beeping of the tracking fob. He could have used the device to locate the Rodian earlier. But it was good to avoid relying on such technology all the time. He had to keep his skills sharp.

Rising from his seat, Hector tossed a few credit chits on the counter. Naila’s culinary ability was impeccable as always.

Stepping out of the establishment he called over to the Rodian.

”Oi Porgaan, over here!”

The twitchy Rodian turned with a jolt and fumbled with a large blaster pistol.

Hector drew his DT-12 at the same time, firing a blue stun blast into the chest of his foe.

Porgaan’s blaster fired harmlessly into the nearby wall, scorching the structure with a massive blaster burn.

Hector gazed at the impression left by the weapon. That would have been dangerous; likely debilitating even with his armor.

The Clawdite tossed a few more credits on the counter to pay for the damages. This outing had set him back more than he liked, but it was worth the cost to stay in the good graces of Naila Ke and Thorn.

Picking up the Rodian, he slung the being over his shoulder. He had a bounty to deliver. Maybe next time he’d pick something that didn’t reek quite so much.

Hector Von Ricmore
Gozanti Listener Ship: Midnight Mynock
Designated Rendezvous, Wild Space

The situation was problematic to say the least. Hector Von Ricmore was many things; an alchemist, scholar, Force wielding combatant. But he liked to consider himself a professional. Which made the current situation all the more troublesome.

The hybrid stood in front of his transparisteel view port, helmet stashed on a console beside him and a frown visible upon his face.

“Run that by me again if you please.”

“Of course sir. Scans aren’t picking up any sign of other hyperspace capable craft in the vicinity. Cargo loaders and the space station are the only things visible on scope.”

“Navigation. You are certain that this is the agreed upon meeting place?”

“Triple checked the charts. We are where we need to be.”

A vexing situation indeed. Hector sat himself down in his command chair and began to ponder. A shipment large enough to require a dedicated transport did not just vanish into the void. There was a reason for it.

He closed his eyes and imagined himself sinking down into a cold, dark, river. He could feel the currents of the Force flowing around him, eager to guide him towards yet another conflict.

With sight beyond sight he began to travel the path laid for him by the Force.

Metallic walls surrounded him. Crates and boxes of various merchandise filled a large cavernous room. An open crate was visible in the center of the room, a variety of blaster weaponry contained within. A variety of creatures could be seen moving the items within. They would pick up and spend time checking over the weapons, then proceed to place the item within a separate crate.

Upon this box was etched a familiar sigil. A W like shape overlapped a circle and I like symbol. The Brotherhood knew this symbol well. The calling card of the Tenixir Revenants.

Hector was pulled back to the present with a gasp. The Force had showed him the group responsible for the theft but further investigation was needed to find where the group had gone. It should not have come as a surprise that they were the group responsible. The Revenants were remnants of a prison riot, whom held the Principate accountable for their sentencing and suffering. They held a deep hatred for the group and would be more than willing to take action against them. Furthermore, the Revenants had been weakened by Brotherhood actions. Seeking weapons and equipment to rearm would be a desirable goal for the former prisoners.

They had the motive to pull this off. And certainly the skills to do it. But how had they accomplished this task?

Hector would have to travel to the station to investigate.

They arrived at the Antei Armaments station without any issues. A momentary pause to show and verify Brotherhood credentials followed by a standard docking procedure. The Stationmaster was not happy to have additional investigators running about, but resolving the issue with the inventory would be worth it.

The Kiffar was ushered to the hangar where the merchandise had been stored. Nothing seemed out of place. No disturbed boxes, no extra ships, no sign of forced entry. The thieves had been professionals. But even professionals left a signature in the Force, and if the stepped into the hangar, Hector could track them.

He placed his hand upon the ground and focused. Worldly distractions were put aside as he allowed the pull of the Force to guide him. Ghostly apparitions appeared in front of him. The Revenants. Dressed as Antei workers they loaded the shipment onto what appeared to be a regular cargo ship. But the Force showed him otherwise. It took him farther back. The Revenants had painted over the ship and falsified its records. A fake name and fake identification. But that did not fool the Force.

Burning Vengeance.

That was the true name of the vessel. And he could see a series of numbers flash by his view. The vessel’s chain code. With those two things the ship could be tracked by the Brotherhood. Hector relayed the information to the Inquisitorious. They would send a team to deal with the matter. His part in this was done, for now.

Orbit Around Ferosar
Ferosar system, Clan Fero Space
Midnight Mynock- Imperial Listener Gozanti

Hector Von Ricmore gazed upon the planet of Ferosar. His first impression of the planet reminded him of the Vizsla Clan World of Zsoldos. A variety of geographic features and climates with a notable spaceport. A spaceport that they would now be targeting.

The “they” Hector had thought of was a rag-tag group of Clan Vizsla members who had jumped to the Ferosar system in pursuit of their target. Alenna Vhett, the head of diplomacy for Fero, was relatively isolated at the Jarris Spaceport.

The question remained: was this a target of opportunity or bait for a well set trap?

Vizsla had decided to take the opportunity, willing to spring a trap if necessary.

”Captain, what have the initial scans shown?”

The Captain of the Mynock, a middle age Human retired from the Iron Fleet, ran a tight and efficient ship. He had conducted a thorough sensor sweep upon entering the system, even prior to being asked.

”Initial scans have verified our intelligence. Vhett is at the spaceport with a small Supercommando guard. We’ve picked up a small number of Taral Guardians but its a token defense at best, just a dozen Kom’rk fighter transports.”

That was troubling news. It wasn’t that the Vizsla force couldn’t handle such a foe, the opposite was true in fact. But to leave one of their warlords open to attack with such a small military force on one of their planets? It seemed strange, even to a man of limited tactical knowledge like Hector.

“They could be hoping to pick up allies or reinforcements Sir. I’ll see to it that the Mynock is ready to jam or intercept any transmissions not registered as Brotherhood aligned.” The Captain declared.

”Thank you Captain. Please do so. I’ll be heading to the port with the strike force momentarily. Inform me if the situation changes.”

With that pronouncement, the Kiffar strode from the room. The armored boots of his Katarn armor clanged against the deck of the ship. His route took him away from the hangar and instead to the ship’s escape pod area. He crammed into a pod alongside a half dozen Iron Legion soldiers, another half dozen entering a sister pod. The strike team had left the other 2 pods for the crew of the Gozanti in case of an emergency.

The twin pods shot out the side of the ship, propelled towards the planet. They ghosted past the token defense fleet, whom was occupied with a variety of member vessels from Kom’rk to a Class type B shuttle.

’Looks like Jai will be joining us on the planet.’ Hector mused to himself. His apprentice was a skilled individual and would be fine on his own. But his was not opposed to allying with the human to take down their target.

The pods entered the atmosphere. A hail of fire shot from the ground to meet them, fired from defensive anti aircraft turrets.

”Eject now!” Hector ordered.

The twin pods separated as troopers on ejector seats were scattered throughout the sky.

One seat took too long to eject, a defensive laser blasting the trooper to ash upon impact.

The seats fell through the sky and gained momentum. They auto deployed parachutes, saving the troopers from impact but making them a target for the AA weapons. Another three troopers were blasted on the way down. The emplacements were meant for larger targets but they were not incapable of hitting smaller objects, especially at the speed the troopers were moving.

Hector and the remaining 8 Iron Legion troops landed safely, quickly disembarking from their seats and reading their weapons.

”Get to those guns!” Hector called to rally his men. The unit began to move towards the emplacement, determined to silence them before more losses occurred.

The soldiers surged forward trading blaster fire with the Clan Fero defenders. The Iron Legion soldiers were veterans of many engagements, their shots rarely missed the target. But the Clan Fero soldiers were garbed in proper Beskar; each blast that impacted the metal only dazed the soldier within.

Emboldened by the state of their defenses a Fero soldier rushed forward wielding a vibroblade. His beskar armor absorbed the blasts from the Vizsla soldiers as he fell upon one with an animal like ferocity. The vibrating weapon cleaved through armor and flesh alike, leading to the rapid death of the Iron Legion soldier.

Hector drew his Sith sword and stepped forward to intercept the attacker. His longer blade gave him an advantage in reach but the Fero bladesmen was quite skilled with his own weapon. He caught each swing on his own blade, the vibrations slowly eroding away the structure of the Sith Sword.

The hybrid drew his sonic pistol with his offhand, firing a green ring into the chest of the Fero soldier.

Geonosian sonic weapons were unique in nature. Slow firing and slow projectiles could make them difficult to hit a target with. But the blast was designed to slay an organic target through their armor. In short, the Beskar worn by the Fero soldier served as a shiny coffin, he was dead before he hit the ground.

The death of the bladesmen rallied the Vizsla soldiers and caused discord among the Fero troopers. Hector continued to fire his Sonic weapon at targets of opportunity. The remaining 7 soldiers utilized what explosives they had to bombard the Fero troops, driving them from cover and into the open, easy prey for the Sonic pistol.

Within the next few minutes the Fero defenders had been routed, any troops in the area had surrendered or been slain.

”We going to blow the guns and make a move on that diplomat?” A soldier asked

”No. We’ll hold the emplacement for now. There are plenty of Vizsla forces moving to the target. I want us ready to take down any possible escape craft.” Hector responded.

His words would prove soon true enough. A trio of Kom’rk fighters blitzed through the sky, recklessly and rapidly flying towards the area of the spaceport the diplomat was last seen in.

”Shoot them down.” Hector ordered the Legionaries. With the recent deaths of their comrades, they were all too happy to oblige.

Blasterfire and anti air rockets tore through the air and smashed into the trio of craft. The Vessels attempted evasive maneuvers, firing flares and chaff to confuse the incoming rockets. But the structures of the spaceport and size of their vessels limited their ability to dodge the incoming fire. Soon all 3 were entirely destroyed, deriving the diplomat of a possible escape route.

Hector’s commlink chirped. “Attention all Vizsla forces, the diplomat has been captured. I repeat, the diplomat has been captured.”

The mission had been a success. Hector and his men took several minutes to lay charges and destroy the anti air emplacements. They then traveled to the designated rendezvous and travelled off planet. Now they had to hurry back to defend their home system.

They could only hope that they would not be too late.