The couriers have been dispatched. From Nar Shaddaa to Ilum, it does not matter where you are- they track you down. They dig through flight plans, question witnesses in cantinas, and check the memory of droids, but leave no trace of their passing. They have the highest clearance available to non-Sith, and have been given their mission by the Dark Council itself.

They wait for you in spaceports, follow you to isolated outposts, and approach as you dock with the Vaiken Space Station. They are all dressed in crisply pressed uniforms, each suited to the world they're on, and each bereft of any identifying insignia or indicator of rank. Who they are isn't important; the message they carry is.

When they find you, they address you by name and title, saluting even the gruffest of bounty hunters and bowing deeply to the even the least imposing of the Sith. They wordlessly hold out a datapad.





If you accept the datapad, they salute and bow once more, and turn and leave. If stopped for questioning, they will each say the exact same thing: "I carry the message, but I do not know what it says." They will refuse to say anything more about who sent them, and resist all known forms of mental and physical "persuasion". They will answer freely about who they are, reciting names and ranks (Imperial Intelligence, all of them) and even begin listing their genealogy or what they had for dinner 17 days ago if directly asked, but will make to leave as soon as they feel they are able.

They will not fight you if you choose to slay them for their impertinence, but will go to their graves without saying anything about the datapad they delivered.





If you refuse to take the datapad right away, they will again address you by name, insisting that, "I have an important message for you," reciting their name and rank by way of informal introduction, and press the datapad closer to you. If you refuse to acknowledge them, or dismiss them in such a manner as to leave no doubt that they are at risk of bodily harm if they remain near you, they will bow and salute once more, before turning and leaving with no further protests.

When you return to your ship, your droid will be waiting for you, datapad in hand, explaining that somebody dropped it off and mentioned it being "of the highest priority."





Regardless of how you end up coming across it, when activated the datapad displays a single message, with no signature or indication of origin. No other functions respond, and none of the other buttons seem usable.



"To the select few marked to receive this message:

You are each in possession of a true understanding of the state of the Empire. The Betrayer's false Empire lies crumbling, and the Dark Council sits broken atop the ruins of a once glorious pyramid. The Emperor Himself has fallen silent... it seems, to those with the knowledge that many of you possess, that our Immortal Leader may, in fact, be dead. With that greatest heresy spoken out loud, the true gravity of our situation should be evident.

The legacy of the vainglorious traitor, General Varus, has not died out, either. In the chaos, those who remained loyal to him until the very end have managed to dig themselves into the cracks and crevices of the power base, collecting the tattered remnants of his once great collection, each squabbling for greater gain and greater might for themselves. They further weaken our already damaged Empire. This can not be allowed to stand.

Many long years ago, the Dark Council established a new power base, with the goal of replacing and exceeding the General's blasphemous sect. Each of you, through promises of fame, glory, credits and power have all come to know this new legion, have fought and killed in its name, and in the name of our Empire. Now is our time. The Empire needs strong leaders, vicious warriors, and cunning spies. Darth Kraze's sect has those, and more to spare.

No matter what brought you here, what called you into the glorious service of the Empire, there will be a place for you in the new order. If it is credits you seek, imagine the plunder to be gained from the shattered wrecks of Republic ships, the unspeakable treasures locked away by the weak and fearful Jedi. The glory-seeking will find no lack in our war with the Republic, or our stabilization of the Empire. Those who crave power will have it; Lords of a "new Pyramid" of the Sith, a great keystone upon which the future of the Empire will be founded, built atop the awesome foundation of those ancient Sith who paved the way for us. And of course, those who seek only to serve their Empire will be doing so in ways they never even dreamed of being capable of.

I offer you, each of you, this invitation: Answer this call, and take your places in the highest echelons of Imperial might. Seek me out aboard the Ziost Shadow for a great Convocation, a coming-together of all those who follow Darth Kraze, our sith'ari- our overlord. Under his leadership, fighting by his side against all that would threaten the Empire and your place in it, we cannot, we will not ever, know the foul taste of defeat."




Peace is a lie... there is only Rage.

There was a knock on the door. Corin froze briefly before finishing his bite of food. He quietly excused himself from the table and grabbed his pistol before finally arriving at the door. A second knock sounded just as Corin got there. He shuddered again before opening the door. He knew the knock meant imperials. He opened the door and to no surprise saw an imperial man in dress uniform holding out a datapad. How could they have found me in my own home? How were my long and tedious precautions not enough? Yet haven't they kept us safe for so long? Or was it false security? Before the Imp could speak, Corin took the datapad and gave a head nod. The soldier then saluted, bowed, and took his leave with no further explanation. He let the man go, not wanting to draw any attention to him, and shut the door. He put away his pistol again and read the datacron in seclusion.

"To the select few marked to receive this message...."

With a lump in his throat, Corin realized his retirement had come up short.