Manually added by Master Dacien Victae

One of the Collective agents who infiltrated the Shadow Academy has been neutralized and the artifact he was carrying has been recovered. This artifact is a small blade. I use a blade to refer to the item as it is longer than a dagger but not quite long enough to qualify as a sword, perhaps it should then be considered a short sword. The blade is a functional weapon, as many Sith artifacts have a tendency to be. It appears to have served some sort of ritualistic purpose, as even now the blade has a supernatural tang of blood around it. Personally, being near the blade is unnerving enough due to the bizarre smell, but the many incantations engraved into the blade which seem to glow when looking at it from the corner of one’s eye is enough to set myself and other researchers on end. The writing was translated by one of our staff who understood the written word of the Ancient Sith. This haiku below is a translation of the writing found upon the blade.

We are the chosen
Of blackened hearts and pure blood
We stand tall and proud

Dominating all
No one can stand in our way
Conquer, loot, destroy

A jedi fallen
Brought us knowledge of the force
Enabled our rise

We can never stop
Needs never satiated
They drive us onward

5 ABY
Prophet Howlader “Howie” Taldrya
Imperial Star Destroyer Indomitable

“This is getting out of hand.” Howlader muttered to himself as he exited the cockpit of his Tie Interceptor. Removing his helmet with a sigh of frustration, the human began to briskly walk towards his quarters. The ace pilot had a lot on his mind; the destruction of the second Death Star and death of The Emperor had the remnants of the Imperial Military scrambling to restore order. The Rebel Alliance was putting up an even greater resistance than usual, something which bothered Howlader greatly. Those accursed rebels, they brought the war to Endor and death to his tribe, his beloved pandas. It was long past time for Howlader to show them where they belonged; groveling on the ground with the Empire’s boot resting on their neck.

Arriving at his quarters the human locked the door behind him. Taking off his Tie flight suit, the human stepped into the fresher for a quick cleaning. Leave it to his commanders to schedule a strategy meeting almost immediately after his deployment. Howlader barely had enough time to freshen up for the meeting much less grab a bite to eat or get some much needed shut-eye. “Perhaps I should not be so surprised. Command can not seem to implement proper tactics to allow us a victory against the New Republic so why should I expect them to be able to competently create a schedule?”

Finished with his cleansing the human quickly put on his military dress uniform before racing out the door. He moved swiftly through the hallways of the Star Destroyer, intent on making it to the meeting in time. So focused on moving swiftly he missed a crewman carrying a pot of stew. Crashing into him, Howlader fell to the floor. The crewman lost his balance and dumped the pot of stew all over Howlader’s pants. The human gave an exclamation of pain and surprise, having not seen the crewman and undoubtedly not expecting to have hot stew poured onto him.

Howlader hissed in pain and got to his feet. He then grabbed the crewman by his collar and pulled him upwards. “You absolute fool! Do you have any idea what you have just done?! The strategy meeting called by command starts any minute. And now I do not have the time to change.”

The crewman muttered a string of apologies as Howlader released his grasp with a sigh of disgust. With another sigh of frustration Howlader entered the meeting.

As he entered the meeting all of the officers who had been speaking immediately stopped talking. The admiral in charge of this remnant of the Empire looked directly at Howlader and raised an eyebrow. “Normally I would ask for the reason for your tardiness but the answer is plainly evident to any who gaze upon your pants.”

An officer failed to contain his chuckles and began outright laughing. The laughter spread amongst all the officers gathered.
Howlader’s cheeks burned with embarrassment and a single thought dominated within his head. “I. Hate. Pants.”

Manually added by Eminent Idris Adenn

OPTION 1

Major Hector Ricmore
Clan Vizsla
Eos City, Arx

Eos City was filled with pure and utter chaos. Soldiers moved to their assigned points, medics and volunteers carried the injured to field hospitals, while others carried munitions to defensive positions. The air was filled with flashes of blaster cannon fire and the occasional explosion when one of the anti air weapons managed to shoot down a Collective fighter. With the sheer amount of ships fielded by The Collective keeping the ships from performing bombing runs was the best the AA could do.

Within one of the few designated landing zones sat a GX1 Diplomatic Short Hauler named Ship. The ship lowered its ramp allowing a red armored figure to emerge. The figure exited the ship before waving and calling to one of the passing soldiers.

“Thank you for coming. Major Ricmore here with a few crates of medical supplies, ammunition, and several E Web emplacements. Where do you want them?”

“Bring the medical supplies to the nearest field hospital. You can find it if you take the left exit out of the landing zone and make a right. Bring the E Web and ammo to wherever you were posted.”

“Are you sure that’s the best place to put it? We could-”

“I need to get going. It’ll be fine.”

The soldier left in a hurry, no doubt moving to his assigned post.

Hector walked back into the Ship and picked up one of the medical crates. He began moving towards the field hospital. Pausing a moment, he activated his commlink and contacted the Deathwatch Artillery Battalion.

“Major Ricmore checking in, how’s everyone holding up?”

“Got tired of hanging with the flyboys major?”

“Ha! You wish. Nah figured I could do more good planetside than against the Collective fleet. Besides I’ve got a plan that I could use your help with.”

The comm unit crackled with a variety of responses from the men and women of the Battalion.

“Count me in major.”

“Are we going to blow something up again?”

“Getting back at the Collective? You don’t need to even ask.”

The Zygerrian let out a pleased smirk. “Happy to hear the approval. Now I’m certain you all have realized that the Collective lacks any proper transports for their infantry, they need to land capital ships in order to offload any of their troops.”

He paused for a minute as he dropped off the crate of medical supplies.

“Landing their capital ships puts them at risk from our artillery and heavy weapons platforms. Many of which are currently occupied with the swarms of fighters above the city but I have a plan to deal with them.”

“Is it dangerous or stupid?”

“I’m hurt that you would jump to that conclusion.”

“Is it dangerous or stupid?”

Hector let out a huff. “Dangerous, but only to me. Normally it would also affect allied pilots but the Iron Legion’s orders to keep the skies clear still stands.”

“What could possibly be a risk to all allied fighters?”

“Massive Emp detonation.”

“Are you mad? You could cripple our entire comm network!”

“As long as the transmitters are outside the range it should be fine. The ships should be high enough to ensure that happens. If not, the Collective will be just as hampered as we are and we can deal with it then. I’ll need some volunteers to help unload my ship and load the emp devices onboard.”

Some of the battalion agreed. The supplies were offloaded, the E Webs set up in strategic positions, and the emp devices brought onto the ship.

As some of the volunteers were returning to their positions Hector noticed a short Pantoran walking towards him.

“Hello there! Major Ricmore right?”
“Yes, can I help you?”

“Ah, you can call me Sei. Bossman heard about your plan and sent me in case things go wrong. I’m a scout, I’ll be your eyes and ears on the Collective.”

The Strategist nodded. “A bit of insurance couldn’t hurt. I want you with the Deathwatch Artillery Battalion by the Proton artillery. The vantage point will allow you to have eyes and the Collective and you can act as a spotter if needed.”

The Pantoran was practically vibrating with excitement. “Yessir, I’ll be on my ways now.”
He turned and bolted towards his assigned position.

Hector shook his head mirthfully before climbing onto the Diplomatic Short Hauler. Strapping himself in, he turned on the ship before lifting off into the air.

The Collective fighters were on him in moments, blaster fire ripping through the light armor of his ship.

Unbuckling his harness, Hector quickly ran towards the small hangar within his ship. Opening the cockpit of the escape craft, the Zygerrian all but threw himself into his V wing, Ship within a Ship.

The pilot opened the hangar doors and flew out into the atmosphere.

Some of the Collective fighters broke formation to chase. He couldn’t allow that.

Activating his commlink, Hector contacted his Deathwatch allies. “Activate the EMP now.”

“We can’t. You aren’t clear of the blast radius!”

“Just activate it now!” The Zygerrian yelled.

A distant explosion alerted Hector that his order had been followed. His descent towards the planet's surface became a chaotic death spiral as he lost all control over his ship.

“Son of a Kath Hound.”

Beep beep beep beep

Alarms sounded throughout the ship as the pilot struggled to regain any semblance of control over his vessel. Rebooting the system, Hector was able to nudge the ship just enough to avoid smash into a building, instead the V wing clipped the side and began to spin out of control.

The Zygerrian wrestled with the controls, desperately trying to end the spinning and fix the ships descent. The ship continued to spin until it smashed into the ground and everything went black.

Some time later

Hector awoke to the bright red light of a flare shining above the crash site. Blinking his eyes at the harsh light he attempted to get up, only to collapse as a sharp pain ripped through his chest.

“You doing okay down there buddy?”

Raising his head towards the voice Hector saw a head of purple hair and pale blue skin illuminated by the flare.

Sei reached down and pried open the cockpit. Placing his arms under Hector’s armpits, he lifted him up and out of the ship. As he lifted Hector, the Zygerrian’s boot caught the edge of the ship, causing them both to tumble to the ground.

“Aaargh” He shouted in pain.

The Pantoran got up and rushed over. “Kriff, sorry man. You really aren’t looking so good.”

The pair heard footsteps and voices growing closer. Sei got up and called “Oi! We’re over here”

Hector’s eyes widened in alarm. “Wait! We don’t know if their friendly”

Sei crouched down and patted Hector on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it big guy. You crashed closer to our lines. Besides, your plan seemed to have worked out perfectly. With the fighters blown straight to the afterlife our cannons were able to focus on their ground forces. Their armor can’t get near our lines and we’re holding quite well thanks to the E Webs you brought.”

The footsteps grew even closer and revealed a strike team of Vizsla troops. They gathered around the pair and lifted Hector up before carrying him to a field hospital.

Major Hector Ricmore
CVS Adjudicator
Zsoldos system, Wild Space

Hector Ricmore lay comfortably in his cot ready to get some shut-eye after a long day. His arm still ached on occasion from the injury he received during the Trials of Ullr but the medical staff assured him that it was healing and all would be well in time. Double checking that the bacta patch was in place on the wound, the Zygerrian closed his eyes and rolled onto his side as he began to drift off to sleep.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Ngh” Hector mumbled in his sleep sleeping through the sound.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Hnnn” He mumbled and shifted his pillow over his ears, trying to block out the sound.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

“Alright! I’m up!” The Zygerrian rolled out of bed and answered his comm with a snarl on his face.

“What do you want?”

“My most sincere apologies for waking you sir, but we have a communication from Dral Falgorth. He is rather insistent on meeting with you and is claiming that it is urgent.”

Hector sighed. “Alright, I’m on my way.”

The feline humanoid slid out of bed. Not bothering to change, as the matter was apparently urgent, he walked to the cockpit of his shuttle whilst still in his sleep wear.

Entering the cockpit, Hector made eye contact with the holographic figure of Dral Falgorth. The muscular human managed to cut a heroic figure with his polished set of Pure Beskar Armor and his majestically long beard which reached down to his chest.

Standing at the same height but clad only in his sleepwear, Hector felt a bit lacking in comparison to his Battle Team Leader.

“I’m sorry to contact you at such a late hour Hector but this is an urgent matter. Appius has gone missing.”

A look of disbelief crossed Hector’s face. “I’m sorry sir can you repeat that? I thought I heard you say that Appius was missing.”

“You heard right Hector. As one of the last people to hear from him I am placing you in charge of the investigation. I’ve updated your security clearance to give you access to all of Appius files and his office.”

Hector nodded solemnly, a frown visible upon his face. “I understand sir, I’ll get started right away.”

Dral’s hologram nodded and flickered before fading out completely.

Hector paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before addressing his crew. “Bring us down to Zsoldos, We’ll land right at the Wren base. I’m going to freshen up and get ready for the investigation.”

“Yes sir.” The crew responded as they began the process of descending to the planet's surface.

Hector returned to his quarters. He donned his armor, slipped on his fuel pack, and made sure both his flamethrower and blaster were loaded. He then returned to the cockpit as the shuttle finished its descent towards the planet’s surface.

Lowering the ramp, Hector exited the ship and made his way towards the House Wren base. He moved with a single minded purpose, ignoring the groups of soldiers on guard as he marched ever closer to Appius' office and hopefully, some answers.

The Zygerrian entered the room, noting the neat piles of paper and abandoned holoterminal. Taking a seat at the terminal Hector booted it up, intent on finding out something. He attempted to access it with the codes given to him by Dral only for the attempt to fail.

After a few attempts a question prompt appeared on the screen:
During my time as a birdwatcher what was my favorite bird of prey?

Hector blinked in surprise, as far as he knew Appius had not participated in such a hobby. But if that was the case then what could the missing Jedi be referring to?

Hector reread the question again and again. It was looking specifically for a bird of prey. What birds did he know of that fit that moniker? Ravens, Shriek-Hawks, Falcons… Hector’s eyes shot open in realization. Falcon. The Millenial Falcon was the ship that he and Appius flew together in. Inputting the name of the ship Hector gave a cry of joy as the terminal sprang to life.
The Zygerrian’s eyes fell upon the familiar visage of Appius Wight. The human appeared pale and haggard, with dark circles under his eyes, which were unsettlingly tinged with red and yellow.

“If you are listening to this recording I assume that you are either in the presence of, or at the very least, an associate of Hector Ricmore. I intended this message to be found by you, my friend and I hope you can pass on the news to the clan as a whole. First off I need to apologize for my disappearance, I need to get away and think about somethings. The artifact we brought back from Plagueis, that damned sphere, is making everything worse. I can hear whispers goading me, telling me to act. Hector, you’ve no doubt noticed by now that things aren't right. I’ve felt this growing...darkness inside me. It’s been eating away at me since Meridian, a gnawing anger at my inability to act, to save them. I need to get a handle on this darkness before it becomes too late, it’s too dangerous to remain in the clan with those I have come to view as comrades. Goodbye Hector, I hope that we meet again.”

The recording flickered and died. In its place a series of numbers and data appeared detailing the relic held on the Battleteam Deathwatch marauder. Scrolled in the margins of the data were notes from Appius on potential countermeasures for the disposal of the relic.

Hector closed his eyes and hoped that one day he would see his friend again. He began the process of copying the data onto a datadisk he found within the desk that the terminal sat upon. Giving the room one last look, Hector walked back to his ship with the intention of reporting his findings. Appius may be gone for the foreseeable future but he left valuable information that could potentially save lives put in danger by the dark side relics of Clan Plagueis.

Equite 1-Hector Ricmore-15134

Major Hector Ricmore
Onboard The CVS Silent Sentinel
Clan Vizsla
Zsoldos, Zsoldos System, Wild Space

The Zygerrian known as Hector Ricmore lounged in the pilot chair of his personal ship, the Tie Reaper known as the Silent Sentinel. Datapad in hand, he continued to journal his thoughts and chronicle his adventures, a tale he hoped would one day become widespread as the masses fawned in adoration at his greatness.

A brief smirk appeared on his face as he lost himself in the daydream. He still had a long way to go before he could become such a storied adventurer but he was on the right path. Today marked the day of his Trial of Ullr, a test that served both as a coming of age ceremony and a chance for the members of Clan Vizsla to become True Mandalorians, earning their place in the Clan.

For this trial the participants journeyed to Zsoldos where they are expected to brave the dangers found within the forests and prove themselves worthy of possessing a personal armor signet. Hector had not spent much time upon the planet’s surface, preferring instead to live on the number of capital ships which belonged to Clan Vizsla. Because of this, he was quite unfamiliar with the dangers that he would be facing, but even he had a few suspicions.

If he were in charge of the test he would ensure that a number of exotic beasts were shipped in to test the truly capable hunters while also taking steps to purposefully complicate the test. Whether that meant traps, an ambush or even sending multiple participants in at the same time slot, the Zygerrian was certain that things would not be quite what they seemed.

Finishing his journal entry, Hector stashed his datapad on a pouch hanging from his belt. Glancing down at his cockpit the T shaped visor of his newly acquired Mandalorian helmet. The armor was an improvement in the Zygerrian’s opinion; while not offering as much protection as the Praetorian guard armor that he typically wore it fit far better than a suit of surplus gear.

Placing the helmet upon his head, Hector made sure the airtight seal was secure. The recycled air may grow stale after a few hours but it was far better than risking any possible toxins or contamination which may be part of the trial.

Walking to the exit of the ship, Hector double checked that both his blasters were loaded and working properly and that his jetpack was properly fueled. Satisfied with the state of his equipment, the Zygerrian marched off into the forest in search of possible prey.

The first thing that struck him was how quiet it was. It wasn’t as if the forest was absent of noise, the chirping of avian creatures and the sounds of local wildlife could be heard. But for a clan wide event he expected to hear occasional bursts of blaster fire or some explosives going off. None of the aforementioned sounds reached his ears, which made the feline human increasingly nervous.

Either the Clan had reserved the forest for individuals to enter one at a time, which was extremely unlikely, or there was something out there strong enough to slaughter the previous participants.

Hector’s growing nervousness began to become paranoia when he spotted the first body. Garbed in the shattered remains of a set of Mandalorian armor, the figure lay up against a tree. The corpse's left leg was mangled to the point where it was impossible to identify what managed to pierce his armor. Rolling the corpse over, Hector recoiled in disgust at the stench and the state of the body. Flesh had been torn from the body in strips, the chest cavity had been almost hollowed out, a number of organs missing.

Taking a breath to steady himself, the Zygerrian proceeded further into the forest. Every now and again he would encounter a corpse in similar condition to the first one he found, some of them accompanied by strange areas of upturned dirt and ground.

His trek into the forest was interrupted by the sight of a large insectoid creature crushing a corpse between its mandibles and tearing flesh from its chest.

Hector raised his carbine and began firing upon the massive creature. The bolts slammed into the creature’s carapace before bouncing off harmlessly.

The creature dropped the corpse and turned to face Hector. Blood dripped from its large mandibles as its tentacles twitched threateningly. Normally this would be time for a hero to recognize the beast before formulating a plan to defeat it. There was one small problem with that scenario, Hector had absolutely no idea what this creature was.

Lacking any knowledge of how to defeat the beast, and realizing how ineffective his blaster bolts to its body was, the Zygerrian decided to go with the tried and true tactic; when in doubt shoot it in the head.

Raising his carbine once again, Hector began to fire towards the creature's mandibles. These shots were much more effective causing the creature to flinch back and screech in a combination of pain and fury.

Hector marched forwards and continued to pour fire onto the creature until it stopped moving. Gazing down at the creature he let out a sigh of relief. “Well that wasn’t that hard.”

His relief was short lived as he felt something encircle his leg. “Firefek.” A sharp tug sent the Zygerrian to the forest floor, dragging him across the ground. Turning over he saw another one of the insectoid creatures partially submerged in the ground, one of its many tentacles curled around his right leg. The creature continued to emerge as it pulled Hector towards it. In desperation he fired his carbine, unable to hit the head with wild shots as he was dragged closer and closer towards the monster. Hector screamed in pain as the creature impaled his right arm with one of its sharp limbs, piercing through armor, bone, and poking out through the other side of his arm.

The carbine dropped from his shaking arm. Desperation began to set in as the Zygerrian fumbled in his belt for his backup blaster. Raising Past, his DL-44, Hector fired a shot into the side of its head.

The creature shrieked in pain, but refused to die, desiring to inflict pain on the one who hurt it. It wrapped one of its tentacles around the blaster, wrenching it from Hector’s grasp. The feline bit down a gasp of pain, as the sudden motion jostled the creature's limb still inside of his arm.

Tears pouring down his face from the agony he was in, Hector searched his belt for something, anything that would be of use. His left hand closed around a cylinder as he remembered the parting words of his friend. “Take this, you’ll need it more than I do.”

Pulling the cylinder free, Hector ignited the brilliant yellow blade and drove it into the creature's face. “Raaaah!” The Zygerrian gave a primal yell as he pulled the blade free and began to slash the monster across the face, abandoning any thought of technique or skill in exchange for rage and a need to survive the encounter.

Hector panted in exhaustion and pain as the creature stilled beneath him. Not wanting to risk encountering a third creature, Hector cut the limb impaling his arm, leaving the bit piercing his arm within as proof of his kill.

Groaning in pain, Hector stood up and began the long trek out of the forest. ‘This better be a fine signet.” he thought to himself.

Major Hector Ricmore
Clan Vizsla
Coruscant Space

CVS Centurion, a Star Courier class vessel, dropped out of hyperspace and began moving towards Coruscant. The ship entered the Coruscant atmosphere without incident, the contacts Clan Vizsla possessed within numerous bounty guilds having paid the planetary tax in advance and notifying CorSec when the ship would be arriving.

Hector Ricmore guided the ship through the atmosphere, maneuvering the vessel towards his designated landing pad. Neon lights blared from the immensely massive buildings which filled the skyline.

The Zygerian frowned puzzledly; he was not sure what to think about Coruscant. Having been raised on a series of ships with a migrant fleet Hector has always preferred living aboard a spaceship. He had found a wide variety of vegetation and wildlife found on planets to be a bit off settling at times, and even downright creepy on some planets. Coruscant was not like most of these planets. The planet has experienced centuries of construction, with one absolutely breathtaking city covering the majority of the planet. This city is split into a nearly unfathomable amount of levels, the most opulent denizens on the upper levels, and the more shadier individuals inhabiting the lower floors.

Hector landed the ship smoothly at his designated landing zone. Turning off the engine he let the ship appear to be abandoned while he headed towards the Electronic Warfare Suite. To allow for more covert operations this series of illegal communications monitoring and slicing equipment has been hooked up to Hector’s Fusion Furnace, a portable generator that provides a respectable amount of power in the field. Booting up the equipment Hector began the process of slicing into CorSec comm channels. For such a widespread security force their communication systems were not heavily encrypted. After less than 30 minutes of effort Hector had managed to breach the encryption without alerting CorSec to his presence.

“It truly is a disappointment to see what CorSec has to offer. I was looking forward to recording them as a worthy adversary, something that could help polish my own tales. I suppose that I am expecting too much; Coruscant has never recovered from centuries of Corruption and 2 violent regime changes.”

Despite his laments Hector knew better than to antagonize CorSec; He prided himself as the greatest Zygerrian pilot to ever live and a competitor for the greatest pilot in the Unknown regions. The Collective have taught him all too well the dangers of numbers, and if he drew CorSec’s attention, Hector would need to leave immediately if he wanted a chance at survival.

A smile stretched across his face as he found what he had sliced into CorSec for, the location of Collective Information Broker Manu Maurfai. The Twi’lek had built a reputation as a skilled slicer, capable of accessing information the public could only dream of knowing. Thankfully it was not Maurfai’s security that Hector had to overcome, but the corrupt and weakened CorSec that his men had no doubt paid off.

Powering off the systems, Hector grabbed his blaster sniper rifle and left his ship, walking towards the landspeeder that had been left on the platform, courtesy of Clan Vizsla’s contacts. He spent a few minutes to ensure that no sabotage had occurred; a newly formed habit after a sabotaged hyperdrive had led Hector into a bounty hunter ambush. Satisfied with the condition of the speeder Hector boarded and began flying to the lower levels of Coruscant.

Hector landed the speeder on one of Courscants many rooftops. Setting his blaster sniper to stun, he laid prone and watched the doorway of the building where Maurfai would be completing an information sale. The other members of the meeting were of no concern to Hector, who let the meeting progress until the sale was made and both parties left through separate exits. He gave the Twi’lek a false sense of security, allowing him and his two guards to exit and walk a hundred feet closer to their transport.

Pew! Pew! Pew!

Hector’s blaster rang out three times, stunning the three targets. Hector smiled to himself and went to collect his bounty.