Clan Vizsla Ship Moonfall
Above planet Korus
Zsoldos Space

A pair of hurried footfalls echoed through the pathway to the bridge of the Providence Class Battleship, Moonfall. Hector Von Ricmore strode onto the bridge, ignoring the clamoring of the messenger Raistlin sent behind him.
“Sir I must insist you avoid using any ship larger than a transport!” The messenger proclaimed. “Aedile Raistlin specifically instructed that no ships larger than a transport are to be used to preserve the integrity of the oasis!”
Hector scoffed. “It is clear that Raistlin is a fool with no knowledge of tactics. We will first attempt to use the Vizsla fleet to intimidate the Ga’lum into surrendering the Oasis. If that fails we will begin an orbital bombardment utilizing only the Ion Cannons that the Vizsla fleet possesses. If the Ga’lum still refuse peace talks we will then begin a ground invasion. Conquering the Oasis will be made far more plausible if the enemy is deprived of their ranged weaponry.”
The messenger frowned. “You’ll have to take it up with Raistlin then. I’ll relay your intentions but I will not cover for your actions.” The man left the bridge to meet with Raistlin.
“Comms officer, please send a transmission request to the Ga’lum chieftain of the Oasis.” Hector requested.
“Right away sir.”
The holotable sputtered to life. A holographic image of a wizened older man emerged; With black hair covered with streaks of grey and garbed in a variety of comfortable wraps and a turban atop his head.
“I have received your request, outsider.” The elder stated. “I would inquire as to the reason for your call and why you have stationed a fleet around our planet.”

Hector bowed respectfully. “Wise elder, it is an honor to make your acquaintance. I have contacted you on behalf of Clan Vizsla. We are a clan which inhabits the nearby planet of Daemunn. We are seeking the rights to access the land in which you now reside, an area Vizsla has termed the Oasis.”

“It is called Al’Rasha and it is sacred to our people. We have allowed you outsiders to settle on Korus. We will not allow you to desecrate our holy land.” The Chieftain retorted.

“I am not asking the Ga’lum to leave Al’Rasha. I only ask for the Ga’lum to allow some of our people access to the area.”

“Outsiders are not permitted in Al’Rasha. If you try to take it from us we will stop you. Us and all the tribes. You will face a reckoning.”

“If you do not allow us access we will open fire from orbit.”

“You wouldn’t dare. You want Al’Rasha intact. These talks are over. You are not welcome in Al’Rasha.”

The transmission cut.

“So that is how it will be. Contact the Vizsla fleet. I want every ion cannon we have to fire on Korus. It may be costly but taking out power for the planet will allow us to convince the Ga’lum to allow us access to Al’Rasha without bloodshed.”

The Vizsla fleet gathered around Korus. Hundreds of blue ionized blasts slammed into the planet.

6 hours later

“Sir, all scans indicate that Korus has completely lost power.” A bridge officer reported.

“Excellent. Send probe droids to find the Chieftan. Let us see if he has reconsidered our offer.”

Dozens of probe droids were shot out of the fleet and descended to the planets surface. A few minutes later a droid located the Chieftain within a series of fortified tunnels.

“I stand corrected. You have shown both strength and restraint through your actions. We are open to negotiating the allowance of Clan Vizsla into Al’Rasha.” He stated.

Hector Von Ricmore
Clan Vizsla
Saxon Ship Tarre’s Terror
Zsoldos System

Hector Von Ricmore sat in the captain’s chair of the Tarre’s Terror. The Hynestian Star Cruiser was a relatively new design which nonetheless pleased him greatly. This was no surprise given the history of the Nebulon as a repurposed combat ship, the New Republic and the Resistance had plenty of time to interpret that data to construct an excellent ship. Tarre’s Terror had been tested in combat numerous times since its construction. It had served and would continue to serve Clan Vizsla well. Aboard the ship was the relatively untested Frostwolf Special Missions Company. The unit typically resided in the Frostwolf Garrison, offering protection to the people of Zsoldos without imposing the harsh militaristic standards of most governmental militaries. It was time to grant the unit some combat experience and allow the members to become accustomed to working with one another.

The latest bounty received by Clan Vizsla was the perfect opportunity. Vik Colton, a Corellian man of immaculate looks and expert gunslinger, and his merry band of pirates had angered the wrong crowd. The crew had robbed a wealthy noble from Coruscant and become marked for death or capture.

Projected in front of him was a Star Map. Colton was last seen traveling the Hydian Way. This area was a massive galactic hyper route used for ships undergoing hyperspace travel. There were a number of planets along the route which Colton could use to hide and resupply. The crew of Tarre’s Terror were given a tracking fob tied to Vik Colton. But the Corellian had used his knowledge of sensor technology gained from his time as a starship mechanic to impede the effectiveness of the fob. The Vizsla forces would need to find the planet Colton had chosen.

The Hydian Way had many planets but Colton was a Corellian. As a human being he would likely chose a planet with an atmosphere which would support human life. Of the planets on the Hydian Way route there was one which stuck out in particular to the minds of Clan Vizsla, Brentaal IV. The planet was located on both the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade routes, offering Vik Colton easy travel options. It was a core world which brought the amenities and comforts that planets in that region have access to. But it was not a hugely populated or well traveled world; which could appeal to Vik Colton as a hideout.

Tarre’s Terror dropped out of hyperspace at Brentaal IV. The tracking fob began to beep affirmatively, highlighting the nearby Corona Class armed frigate as the ship carrying their target. Tarre’s Terror opened fire on the vessel, heavy turbolasers and turbolaser blasts flying towards the vessel. The saucer shaped Corona class returned fire, ion cannons flinging streaks of blue into the Vizsla ship and starting to disable systems.

“Launch all fighters.” Hector Von Ricmore ordered. The Hynestian needed to get its vessels airborne before they lost access to the hangar. 48 Fang Fighters exited the capital ship and blitzed towards the Corona. The saucer deployed its complement of 6 Flare Star Attack Shuttles which were quickly overwhelmed by the massive amount of Vizsla fighters.

With the shuttles destroyed the fighters refocused on subduing the Corona. Point defense cannons and ion emplacement ripped through the armor of fighter after fighter.

The ion cannons no longer targeting the Terror gave the Vizsla ship the breathing room to recover and reactivate its weapons. The ship brought them to bear against the Corona, destroying its weapon emplacements and deactivating the hyperdrive.

“Frost Wolf Company, prepare to board.” Hector ordered.

The Vizsla force made their way down to the hangar. Garbed in sealed Heavy Mandalorian Infantry armor the warrior also carried a Galaar blaster rifle. The crew boarded the Umbra, Hector Von Ricmore’s Corellian Star Shuttle. The spacecraft exited the Terror and flew over to the disabled Corona, entering through its damaged hangar.

The Mandalorians disembarked and began trading fire with a group of pirates, rapidly mowing them down with sheer numbers.

The hunting party continued forward relying on their armor and weapons as well as their numbers to overwhelm the pirates. Several Frost Wolves were injured despite the durasteel heavy armor but the pirates lacked the weaponry required to inflict permanent casualties.

The strike force arrived at the bridge of the ship. Hector sliced open the locked doors and the force pushed inwards.

Vik Colton pulled his blaster from its holster faster than the eye could follow. The custom weapon ripped through the durasteel armor of the Frost Wolves, causing the first fatal casualties of the boarding.

Hector Von Ricmore activated his Jetpack. Flying forward he smashed into Vik Colton, sending the duo to the ground. Vik readied his blaster and fired into Hector, obliterating all the layers of his shield with a single shot. Hector’s arm shot out and hit a pressure point on Vik’s wrist, forcing the Corellian to drop his weapon.

Vik slugged Hector across the face then shook his fist in pain from the impact with the durasteel. The Zeltron grabbed the man and brought his helmet down in a Keldabe kiss once, twice, three times, before dropping the limp corellian to the floor.

Taking a moment to regain his bearings Hector saw the fighting had finished up around him. Checking Vik’s vitals he learned that the Corellian was alive but almost certainly would suffer a concussion.

The Vizsla forces gathered their dead and wounded then returned to the Terror. Vik was brought to the Anvil and passed off to the bounty office. The award was granted and credits were transferred to the bank accounts of all the Vizsla forces who were involved.

The mission was a success but Hector Von Ricmore couldn’t shake the sense of despair that came with losing a comrade. He took some comfort in the knowledge that the Frost Wolves had been blooded and the survivors of the company would be able to perform better in the next conflict.

Dark Jedi Brotherhood
Clan Vizsla
Lt. COL. Hector Von Ricmore
Unknown Space and Time

Exiting the portal he chased Su Well and her men through was a disorienting experience. Hector Von Ricmore was overcome with a sickening dread, a sense of perpetual wrongness that clawed at his mind and body. The Zeltron had done many abominable things in the name of science and discovery. But even he was loath to pursue the path Su Well walked.

There was a natural order to the galaxy, a degree of fate that all were bound to. One could fight against their fate and the outcome that awaited them. Yet the Force fated situations to bring out emotion. Conflict especially. Was the Force evil? Such a thing was difficult to say. It empowered those who sought conflict, many Sith were traditionally stronger than their peace loving Jedi foes. But an argument could be made that the Force simply sought balance. Even at the height of their Empire the Sith were dwarfed by the many Jedi who populated the galaxy.

Despite this it was tempting to call the Force evil. It always pushed the galaxy to conflict. It was a cruel and fickle master, awarding its favor at times which seemed seemingly random. It reveled in chaos and destruction as much as it did peace and love.

This situation was absurd. Traveling through mystical portals to a place and time unknown. It was nothing Hector had ever wanted to do. Su Well could not be allowed to get away with her plans; Hector feared the wrath of the Force all the same. It may not come for him today or tomorrow, but the energy source produced by Midichrolorians would always win in the end. It played the long game and sustained itself with the emotions of the galaxy as it waited.

The time for philosophy and critical thought had passed. The bizarre nature of the situation and alien feelings made it easy for one to mentally spiral out of control. Hector had a mission and it was time to get back to it.

Forcing his musing to come to an end through a burst of willpower the Zeltron began making his way forward. The land he found himself on looked strangely familiar. But he couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding wrongness which enveloped him.

The landmarks seemed similar to Zsoldos, but where the ground should have been a frigid and arctic tundra sat obsidian and other volcanic rock. The heat was almost oppressive; Hector had begun to sweat beneath his armor.

His yellow eyes soon widened in recognition as he caught sight of Su Well who appeared…to be having a breakdown?

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this…it wasn’t supposed to be like this! I am Su Well and I am chosen! I found the portal to the past, outwitted those Vizsla simpletons, only to find an alternative reality unconnected from the present!” The Miraluka raged against the injustice, the lack of fruit produced by all her labors and machinations.

Hector couldn’t help himself. He laughed. What started as a chuckle soon turned into a huge belly laugh. The absurdity of the situation was too much for him to handle. The Force itself was not keen on allowing people to meddle with fate. And it had delivered a rather appropriate response to those who sought the past.

Su Well turned to the sound of the laughs. “You! This must be your doing! I’ll make you suffer for this. You will known unending agony and suffering. You will beg me for death and weep for your end. Then and only then will I allow you to die.”

“Are you sure about that?” Hector responded

Su Well snapped out of her tirade, noticing the Zeltron standing next to the portal. His Jetpack and several blaster power packs had been propped alongside the archway.

“This reality will serve well enough as your prison. Goodbye Su Well.” The Zeltron fired several blaster bolts into the power packs as he dove into the portal. He heard a scream of rage echo behind him as he warped back to the World Between Worlds. He reappeared in the temple, the archway housing the portal collapsing behind him.

Having returned to the temple Hector decided to destroy the rest of the portals. Time was not something Mortal man was meant to control and he could do with earning some good will from the Force.

Hector Von Ricmore
Clan Vizsla
Unknown Space

Reality rippled and whirled around the Zeltron known as Hector Von Ricmore. Distorted portals, doorways to various space and time surrounded him.

But why was he here? This was more than the result of a ritual gone awry. His last ritual had stripped the former quaestor of the majority of his connection to the Force, all that remained was the smallest of tethers, enough to utilize alchemy and rituals but none of the conventional Force abilities.

He hadn’t intended or chosen any materials which would allow for the manipulation or time or space in such a regard. He would be disgusted with himself if he did. The timeline was one of the few sacred and unchangeable things about the wider galaxy, or at least that is how it should be.

Whoever was messing with time and space to such an extent needed to be punished.

Hector made his way across the darkened stone, passing black monolithic structures. The monuments evoked feelings similar to that of Sith structures. An uneasy dread filled him. A sense of wrongness. Wrong Space. Wrong Time. Wrong. Wrong Wrong WRONG!

Shaking his head to clear the feeling which nearly overcame him the armored Mandalorian made his way further into the world between worlds.

The shapes formed on the portals began to grow familiar. He saw the Millennial Falcon, a younger version of himself and Appius Wight laughing aboard.

He saw his first apprentice, Dakor Terrok, the only one to make it to Knighthood. There was still hope for his new apprentice Kasmar, but the galaxy was a dangerous place. Who was to say what fate awaited them?

Images of his consul Korvis, glorious warrior astride his War Droid.

Kanal flying various ships, obliterating his enemies in space.

And then he saw things unfamiliar to him.

Strange rituals, plots by the Children Of Mortis.

Various Mandalorian Clans, garbed in new colors and embracing new ideologies. Among those stood a traditionalist armored in white and gold. Ursula Taabir; was the name the portal supplied to him.

But this was no time for hesitation. He made his way forward, seeing Su Well and a number of mandalorian acolytes.

Pulling his blaster rifle he exchanged shots with them. Downing member after member as he made his way forward.

He activated his Jetpack and took to the skies, weaving around bolts and returning fire.

In the chaos Su Well fled towards one of the portals.

Hector continued his pursuit, slaying Mandalorians left and right and jet packing towards the portal.

He was tackled by one of Su’S men and brought down from the sky. The man tried to grasp Hector’s throat by he defended himself by smashing a knife hand into the being’s adam’s apple.

Getting to his feet once again, Hector rocketed forward into the portal, following Su Well into parts unknown.

As he emerged from the portal light and darkness assaulted his features. He was once again overwhelmed with a sense of wrongness. But he had to push through to find his target.

House Deathwatch Capital Ship Ravager
Hector Von Ricmore
Space near the Mimic Station

‘The Force was truly a terrifying power.’ Hector Von Ricmore mused to himself. The Kiffar had received a series of fragmented visions ever since Juda Graves had feuded with the member of Mandalorian Clan Fero. He didn’t need the visions to predict a coming conflict with the Clan. Vizsla was not a group that would allow disrespect from rivals. And with the growing ambition to establish themselves as an influential power group it was inevitable that they would come to blows with Fero.

On the subject of visions; Hector had foreseen images of a great battle. Crusader Class Corvettes and Nebulon Capital Ships Surrounded a Space Station. The Clan Fleets of Houses Deathwatch and Wren drifted through space, shattered and burning from a failed invasion. The debris was enough of a giveaway that a frontal assault was doomed to fail. Or, at the very least, would cost Vizsla lives and their house fleets before the Saxon fleet arrived.

This was unacceptable. It was a fate that would be avoided. If Vizsla would have difficulty in a frontal assault they simply had to weaken the enemy through trickery.

Hector took advantage of his security clearance within the Collegium. Few books and sources of information were unavailable to him. He had spent days reading about Sith artifacts and holocrons, finally devising a way to construct alchemical objects that would allow him to influence the user.

He then worked himself into a fervor. Creating modified weapons as well as alchemical jewelry and treasure. Broches of Sapphire and Ruby encrusted with gold. Beautifully engraved blades of durasteel. A sword of Beskar adorned with mandalorian crusaders and ancient runes served as the masterpiece to complete the trove.

These creations were packed onto a transport freighter crewed entirely by memory wiped droids. The transport was intercepted by Clan Fero, who eagerly took the spoils for themselves. The Beskar blade was given as a gift to Admiral Sunda Shrike to curry favor with him. But in doing so the Fero member had unintentionally brought about the doom of the Mimic Space Station.

Shrike and his commanders had been corrupted by the Force alchemy artifacts over several weeks. They were filled with a paranoia of the members of Clan Fero not on their ships. It drew on the suspicion already present, many had questioned their leaders about the shadowy Miraluka who came and left as she pleased. Shrike had no answers for them. Vizsla intelligence agents anonymously forwarded propaganda information identifying the Miraluka as Su Well and claiming that she was merely using Clan Fero as tools until they are discarded. This paranoia grew into outright hostility. Shrike’s fleet turned their weapons on Mimic station right as Clan Vizsla arrived to conduct their invasion.

The Ravager exited hyperspace alongside its complement of fighters and transports. The bridge was a flurry of activity as they received a transmission. The holographic image of an Aqualish, Admiral Shrike, appeared onscreen.

“Admiral Shrike, I take it you have received our intelligence. Clan Vizsla would be happy to welcome you as allies. All we ask is that you aid us in taking this station and hunting down Su Well.”

“That is…acceptable.” The Aqualish replied.

The combined fleet opened fire on the station, rapidly destroying its turret protections. The station defenders were unprepared for their own allies to turn on them; allies who were close enough to target the turrets with pinpoint accuracy.

And just like that the Space Battle for Mimic Station was won, without a single casualty.