Kandosii Casino
Space Around Daemun, Clan Vizsla Territory
Von Ricmore

The bald Kiffar known as Von Ricmore let out a pleased sigh. He had been far too busy as of late preparing for the conflict his visions told him was on the horizon. Armor and weapons were crafted, troop drills were conducted; it was a time of seemingly endless preparation. But that was past now. Now he could finally relax.

The Kiffar entered a small portion of the Casino serving as a dedicated bathhouse. Disrobing, he placed his clothing in the designated area before entering the relaxing waters. Pleasant scents designed to put bathers at ease filled the room and Von had no problem breathing deeply as he made himself comfortable in the warm waters.

All was right with the galaxy. If not, he could wait until tomorrow to deal with whatever chaos inevitably cropped up.

Beep Beep Beep.

That noise. No it couldn’t be his commlink. Maybe if he ignored it the sound would go away?

Beep Beep Beep.

No no no. Everything was fine. The caller would go away soon and Von could enjoy his nice soak.

Beep Beep Beep.

“Sithspit!” Von exclaimed as he pushed himself out of the calming waters.

He marched over to the commlink in a rage, picking it up and answering the call.

“What is it?” He snarled

“Have I caught you at a bad time?” Zxyl Taldrya, Regent to the Dark Brotherhood inquired.

Oh no. Von was in for it now.

“I..uh of course not Lord Regent, I mean no disrespect.” The Sith clearly tried to cover for himself.

He heard a chuckle in the background.

“No matter. I require a service from you Von. I need you to hunt my Regent Thran Palpatine.”

Was this a late April fools joke?

“What could Thran have done to acquire your ire sir?”

“He had the audacity to steal my new ship. The tracker is still active.”

Stealing a ship? A fine example of self expression that one can use to lord their wealth and power over others? Unacceptable. This Thran Palpatine was surely heinous.

“My lord, I know that I am part of a Mandalorian clan, but surely you have access to better bounty hunters than I?”

“That is of no consequence. I have decided that you will be the hunter and that is final.”

What.

“May I inquire why I was chosen for such an assignment?” Von asked.

“No.”

Okay then. It appeared that Von had no choice in the matter.

“Very well. I accept my lord. I’ll bring the Concordia and have him captured shortly.”

“An entire capital ship Von? Truly you are compensating for something.”

Von’s eye twitched. Was this really the place for such a comment? The sith let his building annoyance out as a sigh before ending the call.

Concordia
Space around Ryloth

Nine jumps. Nine hyperspace jumps. The crew of the Concordia were hard at work tracking Lord Zxyl’s stolen Sith Infiltrator. The series of hyperspace jumps felt like a wild loth cat chase and Von knew he wasn’t the only one getting irritated at the antics.

After days of trying to narrow routes and find the stolen ship it appeared the crew had cornered it outside Planet Ryloth.

Von’s thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of the bridge’s communication system.

“Incoming communication from the Sith Infiltrator.”

“Put it through.” Von instructed.

Thran’s youthful and dastardly handsome face projected from the holoprojector.

“Took you long enough to find me. I swear they put just anyone in Clan Leadership positions these days.” The human snarked

Von growled. “As you can see we have you heavily outgunned. I suggest surrendering immediately before we blow you out of the sky.”

“Sure.”

Von couldn’t believe his ears. “What do you mean sure? No attempts to resist? No bravado?”

“Why bother, as you said you have me outgunned. Got to fly a new ship and waste your time. I’ll come along nicely and pay the bounty off so I can move on with my life.”

Why was this happening? First Zxyl, now the target. Von just wanted to get back to his relaxation and forget this day ever happened.

Von let out a long suffering sigh. “We’ll open a hangar for you.”

And that was how Von’s relaxing day was ruined, chasing after a grown man who went for a joyride like a teenager.

Von Ricmore
Clan Vizsla
Kalevan Star Yacht, Batuu Space

Von Ricmore was a man of patience. While his comrades had spent the previous month hunting down the target of the fifth Great Hunt, Captain Mar’Vel, he had been content to wait. His visions had instructed him that Mar’Vel would not yet be found but the time to hunt was rapidly approaching.

The Sith knew he had to be the first to reach the target. It wasn’t a matter of glory or honor; it was simply efficient. Tensions had been running high after Mar’Vel’s ability to elude the Clan for so long. Von had no doubt that most of his compatriots would not hesitate to bring Mar’Vel in cold after all the trouble she caused. Such a death would be a waste in the eyes of the Anzat. Mar’Vel could serve as an excellent scout and source of information; her ability to elude capture would aid her greatly in that role. Clan Vizsla would have to dissuade the Epicanthix of her hatred, but such a thing was not impossible if enough time, resources and effort were applied.

Mar’Vel could furthermore aid in the Clan’s securing of Daemun. The ex special forces soldier could convince the Daemun Wayists to stand down, ending a potentially costly guerilla war before it even began.

But first Von had to capture the target alive, a difficult feat made easier by the power of the Force; for the Force was his ally, and a powerful ally it is.

The Sith had prepared a ritual to narrow the focus of his Farsight. The room selected for the ritual was deep inside the ship, devoid of any distractions. A circle had been drawn in the room using the blood of several Convor’s. The creatures were known to have a connection to the Force and would serve as a way to amplify and direct his vision. 2 different brands of incense filled the room. One was taken from Iktochi culture, a species known for seeing the future through dreams. The other was taken from Skakoan culture. The religious Skakoans worshiped a prophet said to be able to see the future. The incense would help Von activate his Farsight on command.

The Sith kneeled in the center of the circle and breathed deeply. The incense filled his nose and mouth as his eyes began to blur. Closing his eyes in a blink, he opened them to find himself on Batuu. He recognized the trading post of the Black Spire Outpost as his ship was currently moored there. His surroundings weren’t entirely solid; they wavered as if in a dream.

“It worked.” Von mumbled to himself pleased with the endeavor. “What do you have to show me?” He asked the Force.

His surroundings shifted as the Force whispered to him. No words were used by the mysterious energy source but a sharp feeling to head North filled the Anzat. The buildings of the Black Spire Outpost were replaced with small wood and mud houses of a similar style. The settlement was filled with a variety of vehicles, cobbled together from whatever scrap the settlers could find. One house in particular stood out to him, the Force showed him a building with a concealed symbol of the late Empire. He watched a small group of Storm Commando’s led by Mar’Vel in her modified Storm Commando armor enter the building.

Von woke with a gasp as his eyes opened wide. He knew what he had to do.

Renting transport to the northern town, Galma, was of no difficulty. It cost more than the Anzat would prefer to pay but time was of the essence. He arrived in the town an hour later, stepping off the transport and into the shadow of a nearby building. Wrapping himself in the Force, Von disappeared from view.

He made his way to the house and tried to open the front door; locked. The time for subtlety was over. Drawing his Sith Alchemy Sword in his right hand he uncloaked and gestured with his left hand. The shabby door was ripped off its hinges and flew inward, crashing into and crushing an unsuspecting Storm Commando. The inhabitants were all ex Empire special forces and had drawn their weapons as the Sith entered. E-22 blaster rifles fired a deluge of fire at the Sith, forcing him to backpedal as his sword intercepted bolts. Mar’Vel brandished a TL-50, letting loose a charge shot. Von intercepted the shot with his sword. The concussive force of the shot made him stumble backwards as the sword was torn from his grip.

Pooling the Force in his lungs Von let loose a primal scream. Mar’vel and those next to her stopped firing, several clutched their heads in pain. Von breathed ragged breaths as his lungs burned from the Amplified scream.

He reached out his left hand and pulled one of the Storm Commando’s towards him. He activated the Knuckle Plate Vibroblade on his right arm and impaled the throat of the soldier flying towards him. The soldier gurgled, choking on blood as Von held him in front of him, telekinetically using him as a body shield. The sith drew four of his throwing knives before sending the body flying into the group of Storm Commando’s. He let the knives fly in a fan, the blades finding purchase in areas not covered by armor.

Stars filled Von’s eyes as a fist slammed into his face. A fist that belonged to Mar’Vel who jetpacked forward and slugged him. Electricity ran along Mar’Vel’s gauntlets as the Epicanthix sent the voltage into Von. The sith spazemed before grasping the Force and cutting off his sense of pain.

“Did you think I’d give you the opportunity to scream again?” Mar’Vel asked, as she wrapped her hands around Von’s throat and began to choke the life from him. “Did you think you could attack me, kill my men and get away with it? I’m Captain Mar’Vel Wonder; you’re nothing but another number to be.”

Fortunately for Von the Sith had no intention of attempting another Force Scream. He couldn’t feel the electricity or lack of oxygen, but he had seconds before his body would shut down. Shifting his foot, he ejected the blade kept in his boot. He grabbed Mar’Vel’s head before pulling her in for a headbut. Disoriented, the Epicanthix was pushed off the Anzat.

Von swung his leg around, kicking the blade into Mar’Vel’s throat. The Epicanthix grabbed at her throat as blood pooled in her hands.

“No no no Shit.” Von rasped as he grabbed the dying Mar’Vel. He had to act now, before Mar’Vel died. Once she passed he would have no power over her fate. His neck and lungs throbbed but his own pain would have to wait, he would need all his focus and ability to channel the Force for what came next.

Von drew the remaining life force from the dying Storm Commando’s, using it alongside his own energy to rapidly heal the cut on Mar’Vel. The wound would scar and still looked raw, but Mar’Vel was no longer in danger from bleeding to death.

Von collapsed into a sitting position against the wall of the house. He activated his communicator, using the frequency reserved for the Clan Vizsla Summit. “It’s Von.” he rasped “I could use some assistance, Galma town on Batuu.” His hand slipped off the commlink as his vision swam. He could hear the muted sounds of the Summit but could not make out any sound. The Anzat passed out from exhaustion, trusting the Summit would find him soon.

Von Ricmore, oh Ricmore
He is bald of head
Von Ricmore, oh Ricmore
The name fills me with dread

Striving forth no matter what bars the way
Determined to always seize the day
What of the cost? Oh how the bodies lay
Those poor souls which he has chosen to slay

Von Ricmore, oh Ricmore
Why do you persist?
Von Ricmore, oh Ricmore
It’s useless to resist.

Von Ricmore
Clan Vizsla
Concordia, Saxon Naval Forces
Bakura, Wild Space

Von Ricmore visibly shook with unrestrained fury. Gauntleted hands tightly gripped the edges of his seat as the Anzat seethed in rage.

The Seer had been found. Or some trace of her at least. The elusive enemy had finally made a mistake, or perhaps this was some form of providence from the Force.

The Vizsla task force had not even intended to find The Seer. The group had been tracking their Great Hunt target, an ex Imperial named Mar’Vel. After analyzing data from the captured Cantina on the moon of Daemunn the fleet had found their way two sectors over to the planet of Bakura.

Upon arriving at the system the Vizslans encountered far more ships than they expected. Numerous Action VI transports which scan revealed to be carrying a large amount of bizarre cargo, including the crystals the Seer made use of during the last GJW, descended to the planet's surface. A whopping 12 Gladiator Class Star Destroyers were fanned out in a protective blockade to defend the transports.

Learning more about or even capturing The Seer took priority over the hunt. Von pressed a button on the console in front of him, opening up a comm line to the Commander of the Vizsla forces on board the Concordia.

“Deploy the special missions company using the ATR-6 flight. They need to capture one of the Action VI ships. Put them in contact with the Shriek Hawk, its interdiction fields will prevent their target from jumping to hyperspace. The fleet will cover your approach.” Von ordered.

“Right away sir.” The commander responded.

Von shifted focus to the fleet in front of him. While the Gladiator class were not true Star Destroyers, the ships were classified as Cruisers in most databases, the amount present were certainly problematic. Mounted laser cannons, concussion missile launchers and tractor beams present on each ship would make deploying bombers far too costly to be efficent. The Clan would have to make due with its fighters to make the battle last long enough.

Each fleet deployed all of its fighters, the Children of the Force had far more Tie fighter squadrons, but the many X wings among the Vizsla squadrons helped to make up the difference. Even the B wings were deployed but due to the enemy composition they remained closer to the Vizsla ships as defensive gunships rather than their primary role as bombers.

The fleets exchanged turbolaser fire as the Concordia sliced into one of the Gladiator ships, disabling its weapons. The Vizsla fleet focused their fire on a single Gladiator, rapidly breaking its shields and destroying the vessel. The Children of the Force returned fire, breaking the shields of the Rim Runner and setting the vessel ablaze. The ship barely jumped to hyperspace in time to avoid destruction due to its exceptional speed.

Von’s attention was stolen by an incoming transmission from the Special Forces Company.

“We’ve captured the ship and are jumping to hyperspace now. We’ll rendezvous back at Sundari Station.”

“Excellent work.” Von congratulated the group. “The fleet will meet you there.” Von ended the transmission.

“All ships jump to hyperspace now. Make several jumps to lose any pursuers and join up at the Clan Headquarters.”

The fleet jumped to hyperspace, damaged but intact. It was time to see what The Seer wanted with Bakura.

Clan Vizsla
Zsoldos System, Space Outside Daemunn
Acclamator Class Assault Ship
Von Ricmore

The bridge of Clan Vizsla’s Acclamator Class Assault Ship was wrought with activity. Final preparations were made as the ship began to descend into the atmosphere of Daemunn.
Von was confident in the clan’s ability to establish a presence on the moon. The 16,000 troops aboard the Acclamator alongside the token fleet blockade consisting of the Concordia, Rim Runner, Shadow Fox, Shriek Hawk and Viper Flight should prove ample enough to conquer the moon while preventing outside interruption. If reinforcements were needed the clan could call upon its entire fleet within an hour given their presence within their home system.

Preparation completed, the Acclamator descended into the atmosphere. Artillery and anti air fire buffeted the ship which remained intact as it completed its landing. The Kyber Shield upgrade gave the vessel shields comparable to a stock star destroyer; their enemy would require stronger munitions to bring the ship down before it could make a landing.

“The anti air must be destroyed before we can deploy troop transports.” Von thought to himself.

“Contact the Concordia. Have them deploy 2 squadrons of X Wings and the B wing squadron. That should be ample force to destroy their artillery.” The Sith ordered the Acclamator crew.

“Right away sir.” The captain replied.

“Concordia, Commander Ricmore orders the deployment of 2 X wing squadrons and the B wing squadron.” The Captain messaged.

“They’ve agreed to your request.” The Captain informed.

“Excellent. Let us hope they are successful.”

The starfighter squadrons exited the Concordia descending in formation towards Daemunn. Anti-air fire slammed into the formation, taking down 3 X-wings and causing the formation to scatter. Once apart the anti air had difficulty taking down the fighters, it was designed to take down transports and capital ships. Only an additional 2 X-wings and a single B Wing were destroyed before the ships completed their strafing run, completely destroying the anti air emplacements.

“With the anti air destroyed we can begin deploying ground troops. Deploy the J-1 artillery but replace the usual munitions with fear gas explosives. While they soften the enemy, prepare an advance force with the Gamma transports and have a platoon of AT-AT and AT-ST ready to support them.”

The Captain gave his acknowledgement and repeated the order to the men.

Vizsla forces began to dismount the Acclamator, setting up the Artillery cannons. Mechanics prepared the vehicles as troops double checked their blasters and boarded.

The artillery began their bombardment, a sick orange cloud emerging from the shelled locations. The gas blew towards the makeshift cantina where a series of shouts and screams could be heard from within.

As the bombardment continued the Vizsla forces saw a ship take off from behind the cantina. The ship seemed to blur before fading from view completely.

“Hmm.” Von muttered. “It is safe to assume that our target is onboard that vessel. We won’t find a stealth corvette unless it wants to be found. Have the artillery switch to proton rounds and prep the AT-M6. Obliterate the cantina.”

The bombardment escalated until the cantina was rubble. But Von couldn’t help but feel that the stealth corvette would be the cause of many headaches in the days to come.

Sundari Station
Zsoldos space
Clan Vizsla

Von Ricmore gazed out the transparisteel window of Sundari station, his gaze drawn towards the surface of the planet Zsoldos below him. The Anzat had a lot on his mind, having received a series of troubling dreams; dreams he believed to be premonitions from the Force.

He had woken many a night to the terrifying visage of a dathomirian nightbrother wielding an ominous white blade. But the Force whispered that it was a threat to be wary of in the future. He had a much more immediate problem to deal with.

The Zabrak was far from the only face to haunt his nightmares. He often saw the face of the contemptible Seer; more recent visions included her cackling over the body of Korvis. Clan Vizsla could not afford to lose its Consul, and Von refused to lose a man that he was proud to call a friend.

The Seer was wise and cunning, possessing a talent for plotting and maneuvering elements behind the scenes. She wouldn’t be foolish enough to believe that she could best a Mandalorian on the field of battle. She would use battle as a tool to weaken her foes and strike while they are weak, perhaps with one of her crystallized monstrosities.

Yet Von could not shake the feeling that The Seer had something else planned. How would she sow fear and terror in the heart of Clan Vizsla? If he had to achieve such a goal, Von would resort to assassination, to show his foe that nowhere is safe. Slaying your enemy while they are resting among their forces and defenses was the kind of paradoxically bold and subtle maneuver that The Seer seemed to prefer. She had allowed others to further her goals in the past, avoiding placing herself in direct danger.

Von was filled with a sense of satisfaction from the Force around him. Whether congratulating his inference or merely excited for the coming conflict, Von could not say. But he now knew what he had to do. He had to bait out the assassin and slay them before Korvis could come to harm.

Taking advantage of his status as Quaestor of House Deathwatch, Von scheduled a meeting with Korvis and allowed the information to leak throughout the Clan. The meeting would occur within a slum on Nar Shadda, away from the prying eyes or security of Clan Vizsla. Knowledge of such a meeting would surely lure out the assassin.

Von flew his Tie Defender to Nar Shadda, paying the docking fee to avoid any trouble or suspicion being brought upon him. He left the spaceport and ventured towards the meeting location.

Having sent a body double to represent him, Von cloaked himself in the Force, hiding himself from the eye.

Arriving at the meeting place, Von remained shrouded as he looked around for any possible threats.

Korvis and the Body Double arrived and began to converse. Von’s brow knit in concentration as he called upon the Force, allowing it to flow through his ears, heightening his hearing.

His amplified hearing soon picked up a pair of extraordinarily quiet footsteps. Turning towards the sound, Von saw a figure unholster a blaster sniper rifle. Taking no chances, the Anzat dropped his Cloak and stepped forward with his right hand curled into a fist. The figure began to choke as it dropped its weapon and was lifted into the air. Von kept his grip tight until the figure ran out of air, slumping over unconscious.
He pulled the figure towards him before setting them on the ground.

“Now, let’s find out what you know.” Von declared as he dragged the figure away for interrogation.

Kneeling on the ground
The Force flows all around me
I have found my peace

Von Ricore let out a long drawn out sigh as he leaned back in his chair. While the majority of the Clan Embassies were rather spartan in nature it was not too arduous for the massive humanoid to convince the Dark Ascent guards of the necessity for a piece of furniture that could hold his larger frame. Serving as a one time guard to Marick during his tenure as voice and his credentials with the Shadow Academy helped to prove his loyalty, at least enough to get him a damn chair.
“But it wasn’t enough to speed this process up.” Von mumbled to himself. With the conflict between the Severian Principate and Tenexir Revenants simmering to a halt many wondered what future lay in store for The Unknown regions comprising Brotherhood Space. The Clan Vizsla information network, a series of criminals, bounty hunters and ne’er do wells, had been abuzz with rumor. It appeared the Dark Council were planning something known as Operation RAPTORSTRIKE. Some other fool may have made a massive mistake, attempting to torture the info out of guards, or break into the Dark Ascent. Von had no intention of making himself a martyr on this day. Instead he requested an audience with the Dark Council which led him to his current situation, lounging in a chair with mind numbing boredom as he waited to be summoned to the council chamber.
After what felt like an eternity Von was jolted out of his daydreaming by a knock at the door. Answering it, he found himself face to face with a Royal Guard in black armor armed with a force pike.
“The council will see you now.” The guard announced, their voice muffled by a voice modulator to protect their identity.
Von nodded and followed the guard out of the room. Despite no longer having the ability to use the Force he couldn’t help the ominous feeling growing within him. Perhaps it was merely a phantom sensation but the hybrid couldn’t help but feel nervous about the meeting. He was going to be in a room with some of the strongest Force users the galaxy had ever known. And that was more than a little unnerving.
The pair entered the lower level turbolifts. Neither dared to speak out of a mixture of duty, respect, and a little bit of fear. The lifts arrived at the upper level. The pair exited and trekked down a series of hallways filled with black robed royal guards. The duo then arrived at the opulent Antechamber of the Dark Council. Beskar ornaments acted as a showcase to the wealth of the Brotherhood, proof that the Council could afford to waste the expensive and valuable metal on pointless trinkets. 8 Royal Guards in Black Praetorian Guard Armor, the Elite of the Elite, guarded this chamber.
The guard escorting Von tapped their force pike on the ground 8 times. In response; one of the Praetorian guards inserted a code cylinder into a terminal, opening the way forward. The duo continued down that hallway entering a vast empty cavern. The room was empty except for a set of spiraling stairs which lead upward.

“Ascend the stairs. The council is waiting.”

Von did as he was asked; carefully ascending the winding staircase. At the top he saw a room with thrones arranged in a semicircle. Most were empty, save the center throne, occupied by a short human with amber hair and eyes.

“Darth Nehalem.” Von exclaimed as he prostrated himself before the leader of the Brotherhood.

“Now, now. There’s no need for that. Rise Von Ricmore.”

“But my lord…I.”

The Sith Lord held up a hand to silence him. “I appreciate your attempt to stand on ceremony but there is no need to debase yourself. I have things to do and it will be far better for the both of us if we get this audience over with.”

Von was visibly taken aback. Schooling his expression he refused to allow the Sith to get to him. “Yes my lord. You see I have sought an audience regarding…”

“Operation Raptorstrike.” The Sith interrupted once again. “I am aware. James foresaw your arrival several weeks ago. You have good timing Ricmore. The Brotherhood requires your services. The presence of the Crystal Soldiers used by our enemies is worrisome. But we’ve come up with a ritual of our own. Using it on any ordinary sentient would likely lead to a berserk trooper, a mindless brute like the crystal soldier. But you? A Force user who lost his connections to the Force. It may just be what you need to rekindle it. Will you take the risk, Von?”

“Of course sir. Just tell me what I have to do.”

A sinister smile spread across Evant’s face. “Excellent. Most excellent indeed.”

Unknown Planet

Von knelt in the circle formed from Sith Alchemy; Devoid of all clothes except a loincloth. An acolyte stepped forward, bucket in hand.

“With this liquid you are cleansed of your past. Your mistakes, your triumphs, nothing will shackle you any longer.”
The acolyte doused Von with the unknown liquid. His red skin took on a green tinge as the glowing green liquid flowed across his body.

“But power can not be gained without cost. An anchor is required, a chain to bind you until you have the strength to break it.”
A different acolyte stepped near the circle and handed Von a Sith Alchemy dagger. The hybrid raised the blade and took a deep breath to steady himself. He brought the dagger down, cutting and tearing his left eye from the socket.

“AHHHHH!” He screamed out in agony. Blood oozed from the wound, which ran down his face and dripped onto the alchemical circle. The circle began to glow an insidious, smoky, green.

“With that sacrifice, that anchor, you can now bear host to the strength that you deserve.”
A third acolyte stepped forward gripping a small case. Opening it, Von’s remaining eye saw a purple Kyber crystal covered in Sith Alchemical runes, fashioned into the shape of an eye. The acolyte handed Von the item.

The hybrid brought the eye to his face, slotting it into the socket with a pained grunt. Magic beyond his understanding fused the artificial eye. Von screamed until his voice broke and he could scream no more. All the pain he felt was secondary to a new emotion, happiness. He could feel it. He could feel the Force again.

Darth Nehalem was beside himself with joy. It had worked. “This is only the beginning.”

Dandoran: Chemical Processing Plant
Hidden away within one of the forests of Dandoran is a major source of wealth for the Hutt clan, a Chemical Processing Plant. As a source of revenue the building has been invested heavily in by the Hutts. Built with a reinforced durasteel/Beskar alloy and protected by a domed ray shield that can be deployed at any time the building can withstand even a planetary bombardment. The building is also protected by several automated turrets, which a skilled slicer may be able to make use of for their own purposes.
The inside of the building is filled with forced laborers and scientists who work tirelessly to produce military combat stims and illegal spice to appease the endless greed of the Hutts. Various chemicals bubble in test tubes at the science quarter while the spice is manufactured along an assembly line worked by slaves.
While the outside has a temperate forest climate the interior of the building alternates between sweltering heat with air filled with chemical fumes to remarkably chilly when the drugs need to be preserved and packed.