Fall of Prince Hektor

‘The Prince is dead!’ So rang out the cries of a thousand souls, smoke pouring towards the heavens as Ven City and the The Hall of Ancient Princes burned. Shadows of a dozen frigates or more loomed even through the rain-filled clouds. Gravtanks prowled and soldiers marched amongst the rubble. Bodies lay silent, lifeless, in the streets. ‘The Prince is dead!’

A thousand reasons and claims of reason led to this moment. Hektor became ever more reclusive, granting not a single appearance to his Council since before the Coronation. He did not even reveal his face to offer Crux’s fealty. Legislation was brought before the Council, signed in Hektor’s name, that the House Guard was to see its numbers cut, funds redirected into the JES. With the STO War’s ending perhaps it should have come as no surprise, but after two consecutive wars Crux had militarized more in a decade than it had in centuries. The Council argued over potential changes to the inheritance of Primeborn, a system that had gone unchanged for as long as any could remember. Claims were made one day that the Prince would support such changes, and the next day that he would never allow them. The Prince’s Guard was withdrawn to the residence of the Preeminent Family, and levies were called for from close allies of the royal family to reinforce them. Rumors whispered that the Prince sought to retain his place as ruler, despite the ancient traditions, his Family’s tenure cut short by the Assassination of the Cygnus Emperox. Others said a madness had claimed Hektor, the grief of loss, of seeing Crux denied the Throne, too great a tragedy for his heart and mind. Others still claimed the Prince had already abdicated his power, but the Electors were unable to agree on new Preeminent Family, the vote locked time and time again. Whispers spoke of betrayal, of plots and alliances woven in secret since before the War Against the Artificials. Such hatred and designs would have to run deep to dare challenge the line of Alexandron and Helena. Or was it the passion of a moment, rash decisions and cobbled plans thrown into action at a moment’s notice? Claims were even made of Cygnus survivors, remnants of the great enemy, lurking within the Nobility of Crux itself, or perhaps its serfs, preparing to complete some ancient, deep-cover mission. Informants said Hektor was afraid, emboldened, mournful, diseased, and jubilant, all depending on the time of day. A thousand reasons and claims to reason led to this moment, but who will ever know which of them is true.

A Chalice, Poisoned

Prince Hektor’s family was selected to be the Preeminent Family of House Crux in 3163, the year following the coronation of the Cygnus Emperox. Hektor was young, younger than any other candidate a Preeminent Family had ever put forth in remembered history, but he had a handsomeness and a way of holding himself that melted hearts, even as some questioned his readiness for the task he had been given.

The old guard, members of the Judiciary and the House Gendarmerie, were slow to believe in someone so young. Hektor had to fight for their approval, but he earned it year after year. Despite an almost instant popularity in the public eye, Hektor was not complacent. He studied the law, the arts of diplomacy and battle, and was known to wax on for hours with his Council and his confidants, as though they were his trusted friends and allies more than politicians and advisors. He listened as much as he spoke, and he had the humility to see his own weaknesses, and worked to overcome them.

He was nothing like the Prince before him, a cold figure, distant, but wise and firm. Hektor, by contrast, was often present in the Council chambers, working closely with the chosen few. Some of the old guard distrusted the change, believing Hektor to be too eager or his head too buried in books and datapads instead of forged in the experience of age. Others harbored older disdain for his family, the Electors having chosen them through a particularly close vote. But through all these concerns Hektor drove forward, seemingly unswayed by the rumors and whispers. Some couldn’t help but admire and respect him, as young as he was, and his allies only grew in number with every passing year. Even the old guard began to soften towards him, their doubts of his youth becoming respect for his humility and earnest curiosity.

The War Against the Artificials should have been his downfall, or so Hektor’s detractors believed. A Prince so young and inexperienced should have faltered in the face of the first true war in centuries and left the ruling to his Council, hidden in his chambers. But Hektor again surprised. He stood his ground against the diplomats who said Crux should stand down against the Emperox. He stood his ground against the missives of the Cygnus Emperox themselves, that warned Crux risked excommunication. He saw the war not as a risk or as misguided, but as the right thing to do. Cygnus had to be stopped, or so even Hektor believed. And Crux stood with him, pride swelling for their brave and stubborn leader. The doubts became ever fewer and further between, relegated to the most extreme fringes of the House.

But the war was harsh and painful. Crux stood alone, for seven years, inches from defeat at dawn and steps away from victory at dusk. Nobles died. Serfs died. The faces on the battlefield were ever younger and less experienced, pulled from the JES, the DoJ, even the Primeborn, and from the students and the younger generations, some of whom had not even passed the COAT the day they were handed a rifle. Some admired Hektor’s determination to keep the war alive, his conviction. The price was great and the fight was necessary. But the newer and younger souls were often disillusioned, spending blood and sweat to earn a moment of respect when Hektor, some felt, had been handed it. Hektor himself did fight, upon the surface of Gats before the Bombing and on the bridge of Crucian vessels, but while some called it bravery, others saw it as publicity, a mere sliver of the nights and days they fought with barely a moment’s rest. Hektor was always surrounded by the best Crux had to offer, layer upon layer of guardians, no expense spared to keep him safe. What did the front lines receive? A rifle, what armor was left, and orders from on high. Still, those who voiced displeasure were a minority in the House. But that minority had begun to grow.

When the other Houses joined the war, Crux carried on beside them, limping forward with the fresher faces and armaments of their Imperial kin. Hektor was a hero, the face of Crucian resolve, but what had others paid for him to earn it? Crux was crippled, Hiera scarred with ruins and rubble from Cygnus counterattacks and political bombings, but all the Empire seemed to see was Hektor, the smiling face of ever-closer victory.

And yet again, Hektor proved the quality of his character. He met with the families of the fallen. He spoke in speeches not of his success, but of the price that Crux had paid. He saw the pain, the suffering, and he did not ignore it. He lamented. Funds were gathered and dispensed to begin rebuilding, even though Crux barely had the capital left to do it, and Hektor himself was seen amongst the rubble, shifting stone and metal to clear away the devastation. The hate, the rage that some had harbored, began to fade away. 

Or so it would have, if the STO had not emerged. Crux was still rebuilding when the Corporates rose up, and it would be others who shone the brightest. Crux knew, Hektor knew, that with the Cygnus Emperox assassinated the timetable had been accelerated. The election was not in sixty years. It was in a handful of months. And there were those within the House who demanded Crux raise its bloodied arms again and fight, to prove they were worthy of the throne. They feared the War Against the Artificials would be forgotten, overshadowed by the bravery and faces of the present, not the past, and Crux’s hopes of leadership unmade. And so Crux fought, though not as fiercely or broadly as before, always, it seemed, a step or two behind the enemy. 

But this was a new kind of war. Crux’s infrastructure was weakened already, and many feared the economic power of ACRE and the Corporations would cripple what was left. Informants on Lodestone were forced to sell valuable assets and vessels to ACRE, buying time for House Pyxis but gaining little in the end for Crux. A small victory was won on Imperial Prime, the revolutionary Ardeshir Vela captured and taken into custody, but the Empire seemed to pay the acts of Crux no mind or worse, despise them.

Anger boiled when Crucian gravtanks were sent to Prime and not moved to defend Houses Minor homeworlds beset by the STO. Voices cried out for Crux to expedite repairs to its transportation network, damaged heavily in the first war, and some claimed Diomikato fell because of Crux’s lethargy. Hektor gave his all to point to Crucian successes, to stand up for Crux’s actions, but the Noble Houses, once so fond of the charismatic Prince, seemed to turn deaf ears to his words.

Rumors circled that some of the Prince’s Council had turned against him, working to guide Crux into failure to undermine the Prince’s rule. Others claimed a second war had been too much, and that Crux had set itself up for failure from the beginning, trying to soldier on when the House needed to heal itself. There were whispers that the Prince had lost his touch, that the old guard had been right to be distrustful of such a young Prince. Perhaps he had gotten lucky against Cygnus. By the closing hours of the war, when ACRE and Eridanus announced their merger, the Prince was rarely seen in the Council Hall. His public image was still monolithic, his name known across the Sector, but the cracks had begun to show.

What was worse, the House had become ever more divided. Council decisions were not reached through deliberation, but through shouted insults, demands, and close votes and revotes. This permeated downwards into the three pillars, the DoJ, the JES, and the Primeborn, and spread like disease through the Nobility and the serfs. The only thing any could agree on was voting for House Crux when the election finally came. But when the results came back, that only Crux had cast their vote for Crux, the blaming and the seething hatred began to boil. Nobles pointed fingers at other Nobles, claiming interference, conspiracy, and disloyalty. The Prince’s name was dragged through the mud, some claiming he had given up and lost the election himself, others fighting desperately to defend him. The Council dispersed in anger, some calling to see the throne turned over to the High Church, as the Empire and its Nobility clearly couldn’t make the right choice.

But that was just the beginning.

The Ebon Trials

A war does not often begin with fire and brimstone. Often, it begins with posturing: political maneuvers, the building of power, and the sabotage of enemies. In the wake of the STO War, trials for those alleged to have committed war crimes and other atrocities, treasons, or betrayals were common. A number of cases from the War Against the Artificials had also gone unresolved, delayed in the system by the sheer amount of litigation levied against individuals, Nobles, Corporations, and Corporate executives. 

While it was expected only a few Crucians would face punishment, many of the allegations seemingly false or lacking reasonable evidence, the overflow of trials resulted in a number of courtrooms filled in the dead of the night, judgements passed before only a Richter, a few Anwalts, and select members of the Primeborn. Questions were raised of secrecy, corruption, and rushed decisions. Some claimed that innocents were unfairly prosecuted, others extolling the swift and decisive work of the Judiciary. Simultaneously, others still denounced the Judiciary for letting dangerous and immoral officers free with little more than a fine. The truth became ever harder to parse, and for some the constant pointing of fingers turned into little more than background noise. 

In response to the growing outcry, a comprehensive review of cases from both the War Against the Artificials and the STO War was requested. Initially, the review was only to cover a small number of select cases, but to prevent further outcry it was determined that all cases would need to be reviewed equally. This bogged down the Judiciary even further, and, rather than helping, resulted in a number of controversial decisions. Among these was the early release of one Tourmarches Crux Thurn Cordula Charis, called the Swanscourge for her close involvement in the use of the Triangulum MDP to reduce Gats to a wasteland. Tourmarches Cordula was welcomed back with surprising ease to the ranks of the House Guard, and rumors quickly began circulating of her chances to be next in line for the position of Strategos, despite her dark and questionable history. Some claimed she had been set free intentionally, as part of something greater. Others insisted her incarceration had been wrong from the start, Cordula only imprisoned to assuage political outcry following the Bombing of Gats.

Was it incompetence that led to so much outcry? An overloaded system? Was corruption at play, undermining justice at its root? Rumors spread that allies of the Prince were being targeted, and others alongside them that enemies of the Prince were vanishing without a word. Some of the Crucian Nobles accused of crimes were ferried off to Khal or Gleipnir, one publicly declared, the next sent in total secrecy. Others disappeared, their judgement unfinished. Did they flee? Were they killed in the dead of night? Had they been whisked away to safety by the Prince? To stand against him? Some remembered the early days of Prince Helena, and how she had aimed to purge the darkness in Crux’s soul. 

The questions only mounted, and the truths only seemed to multiply. Perhaps if there had been one truth, the result may have been different. Or perhaps what was to come was unavoidable, years, centuries in the making.

Project: STEELCASTLE

A closely guarded secret of the House Guard, Project: Steelcastle had been established under Strategos Geier Gideon Erich not to oppose Prince Hektor, but to be prepared for those who would. There were those within the Guard who loathed the Prince. They had always been there, disliking their leader for his methods, his age, his family, and a thousand other reasons and claims of reason. But the House Guard’s purpose at large was never to initiate the conflict. It was to support House Crux in conflict. But who was really House Crux? Prince Hektor? Or those who opposed him?

While some splinters of the Guard ignored their directives and the intent of Project: STEELCASTLE, working to prepare themselves for a war or coup of their own or whatever might come of the swelling discontent within House Crux, the majority of the leadership supported the intent of the initiative. But an unfortunate, or perhaps fortuitous, bit of timing shifted the playing field.

With the retirement of Strategos Geier Gideon Erich following the Coronation of the Pyxis Emperox, the House Guard was quick to begin its search for a new leader amongst the Droungarios and Tourmarches. Some believed the Strategos had simply gotten tired after two long wars, but others wondered if he’d seen the writing on the wall, that staying for what was to come might cripple his family and upend his reputation. Others suspected ulterior motives, plans within plans, but such seemed to be the way of things in Crux during those days. Everything had a thousand reasons why it may have happened.

A number of candidates had been considered likely successors to Geier for some years, veterans of the War Against the Artificials and the STO conflict. But within less than a week of Strategos Gideon’s retirement, amidst the chaos and the suspicion of the Ebon Trials, Tourmarches Thurn Cordula Charis, the Swanscourge, was freed from her long imprisonment on Khal, the Convict’s Moon. Few would have thought a controversial war criminal would even be a minor consideration for the position of Strategos. But the pieces were already in motion, or so many would believe.

The announcement of Tourmarches Cordula’s ascension to the position of Strategos brought outcry amongst portions of the Primeborn and the Judiciary. While the House Guard seemed quick to fall in line behind her, there were still those who muttered their distaste and dissent in quiet back rooms and private chambers. 

She had been a brilliant strategist in the War Against the Artificials, but ruthless to a fault. And many would argue her actions were instrumental in the Bombing of Gats and the activation of the Triangulum MDP that turned the Cygnus homeworld into an apocalyptic wasteland. But the price of such actions had always been in question. House Crux had been in what often felt like a losing war for seven long years before the other Houses joined. Ruthlessness had often been necessary to secure even the smallest victory. And the Bombing of Gats had arguably saved Hiera from its own destruction, buying the time Crux needed to regroup and prepare for the attack on Imperial Prime. 

Again, the stories were numerous and rampant. Some saw Cordula as the best hope the Guard had moving forward. Others saw her as a plant, a face bought and bribed to turn the Guard fully against Prince Hektor and his allies. Regardless of why, the House Guard had chosen, and the Prince’s Council was far too busy fighting amongst themselves to do much about it.

Strategos Cordula was quick to undertake preparations for Project: STEELCASTLE, moving House Guard forces into strategically important military installations and potential hot-zones. The other players had already begun their movements and positioning, and the House Guard would need to be prepared for what was to come.

The Pieces In Motion

For more on each of the factions below, see here.

The Preeminent Family

While individual members of the Preeminent Family devoted themselves to other movements or causes in secret or overtly, the larger portion of the extended family united behind Hektor. Unfortunately, Hektor’s true intentions seemed unknown or barely known even to them. Some claimed they fought to help keep Hektor in power. Others said they only wished to see a fair transfer of power that members of the Prince’s Council sought to undermine. There was no clear purpose beyond the protection of Hektor and the Preeminent Family, a defense, or perhaps offense, arrayed against a hundred claimed enemies, some overt, and others deep in shadow.

The Wintermoon Estate on Throphe, the Prince’s bastion during the unrest, became a fortress, the allied Preeminent Family, their loyal vassals, and their levies taking up defensive positions within and around the sprawling structures and domes.

Family Merovech

Arguably older and more powerful than entire corporations and even some Noble Houses, by claim only, Family Merovech had been seething in their castles and their mansions since Hektor and his family had taken leadership of House Crux. Furst Merovech Igorek, the foremost of the family’s Primeborn, who had held his place against assassins, poisons, claims of insanity, and family politicking for nearly three hundred years, had stormed out of the chambers of the Prince’s Council when word came that House Crux had been the sole voter for House Crux in the Imperial Election. He was furious that the “loathsome,” Preeminent Family had been allowed to carry on with “that infant whelp,” Hektor, as their candidate, only to fail miserably. And unlike those who came before him, Igorek would not be content to stew in his anger and misery, ever watching from the sidelines as the House of Crux put up “imbeciles and buffoons,” for candidacy century after century.

Igorek’s goals were simple, as were his family’s. Power. Igorek saw an opportunity, a window, following two wars, of increased militarism and decreased regulation. House Crux had strengthened itself against Cygnus, but lost a great deal, ever more reliant on its serfs, the Levies. The Merovech Levies, great in number and well equipped, were army enough to begin a war if united.

But others within the family saw the serfs of House Crux in a different light. Amongst the JES of the family, Inquisitor Dahlia and her close allies began to spread word to the serfs of Thronderhauer that Family Merovech saw the plight of the lowly non-Nobles, the suffering that had no doubt sparked the conflict with the STO. If Hektor could be ousted, Family Merovech could easily improve the ancient Crucian laws that held down the serfs of Hiera. And with their Levies mustering, Family Merovech was already poised to make their move. An uprising was sparked, its alleged intent to distract the Prince and his allies from Ven City. In reality, the serfs of specific Nobles were targeted, potential Levies for allies of the Preeminent Family now lighting fires and defacing property in the night, their anger coalescing into an all-out rebellion - The Northern Front.

Angered and yet impressed by his kin’s cunning, Igorek called for the Electors to be assembled, the vote prepared for whether to choose a new Preeminent Family. Claiming distrust and threats from his fellow Primeborn and members of the Prince’s Council, Igorek moved the bulk of his Levy forces with him to the Merovech estate just outside Ven City proper. The rest were sent deep into the Hammerberg Mountains outside the city, led by Igorek’s own son, Cyrus, to lie in wait.

The Athonite League

For many years, the League had been little more than a social club, a loose alliance of families connected by their members’ work on issues of faith, the law, and their relationship to one another. But even before the conflict with the STO had concluded, whispers and mutterings had begun to spread across Hiera of plans to move against Hektor. While not all members agreed, The Athonite League by and large were concerned by such claims. 

The appointment of the Preeminent Family and the Prince of Crux were ancient traditions, culture and faith closely intertwined since as long as the history books could tell. Upending that process, destroying it, was a betrayal of what it meant to be Crux to the Athonites. Something had to be done.

The members of The Athonite League swore their allegiance to Hektor, not openly, but in secret, and what Levies they had were sent to his defense. A portion was also directed north, to Thronderhauer, to hold the line against the emerging Northern Front. Concerned more for the Prince and the preservation of tradition, however, the small group of Athonite Levies was quickly overwhelmed as the rebellion escalated, some killed, others taken prisoner, and the remainder swearing allegiance to the Northern Front.

In Ven City, members of the Athonite League worked hard to speak in support of Hektor, his actions, and the due process of the Electors and the appointment of a new Preeminent Family. While the Athonite’s supported Hektor and his family, their true interest was in maintaining the old ways, even if that meant seeing the Electors choose a new Preeminent Family. The Judiciary had to keep running, even in the face of brewing internal conflict, and more overt support was too much of a risk.

The Summer Court

Not all of Hiera’s players were so quick to move towards the front lines. The Summer Court, political party and bender of laws, did not seek to directly remove Hektor, though few of its members supported him by the end of the conflict with the STO. He had failed to win the Imperial Throne, and that was far more despicable than any choices the Prince had made during his reign. 

And it was fortuitous timing. The Summer Court had been making plans of their own for a very long time, plans that did not care about the fate of Hektor, his family, or the Empire’s Throne. Crux had been weakening, faltering like a diseased animal for decades, or so the Summer Court would claim. It had lost its fervor and its strength, many of its peoples’ lives given on Gats and Prime and other worlds against Cygnus. Even before that, Crux had lost its edge, its ruthlessness, the conviction that could have won it the Throne. Complacency had lost Crux the election and nothing else, the Summer Court devoutly believed. The House needed change, however small or large.

Darvasa was where the Summer Court moved first, though others would be blamed. From the mines to the north, serfs of several local companies, including the Stromgeist Industrial Complex, marched upon the city in the early morning hours. They were armed, weapons bought and supplied by their Noble masters, and when they reached the Eisenmarkt Tower the serfs opened fire, killing numerous Noble businesspeople and guards. The sudden rebellion was quickly halted. JES and House Guard personnel moved in with heavy support weapons to fight back and pacify the uprising, but not before many lives had been lost on both sides.

The plan had been a success. Allies of the Prince, officials and business Nobles of Darvasa, had been targeted, their removal systematic and precise. The rebellious serfs who survived the attack were ruthlessly punished, many imprisoned and prepared for transport to Gleipnir. Their Noble masters claimed the serfs had organized in secret and devised the attack, but some of the serfs alleged their noble masters had ordered them into the city under penalty of death and the blackmail of their families. It was the word of Nobles against the Serfs, with no concrete proof immediately arising, and the Serfs paid the price.

With their enemies crippled, the Summer Court was quick to replace local officials and buy up companies in chaos, putting a stranglehold on Darvasa’s people and economy. The resources and wealth of the city were the Court’s target, and they hoped that whoever succeeded Hektor would be too busy putting the rest of Hiera in order to bother with the Wyrm’s Maw.

The Outer Garden (Aubergarten)

Since Crux’s failure to seize the Imperial throne, resentment and feelings of second place have swelled beyond Hiera. The loosely affiliated lodges have been spouting more rhetoric, holding more meetings and cultural rallies, trying to foment fervour and a unified social identity. The underground movements and subcultures amongst the Promiseborn have been releasing more inflammatory music and sensory experiences, along with more psycho-reactive chemical consumption.

This has led to an upswell in recruitment and fraternity among the various subgroups. In the immediate lead up to the war, the Garden begins placing loyal agents on the various space stations and whatever ships it has access to. It especially recalls agents forming the garrisons on the outer edge of the sector, like frontier forces that range far out mostly forgotten about. They intend to try and infiltrate orbital defenses, and the communications arrays such as those for mail or banking transactions, even where controlled by other factions.

The idea is not to seize any of these so much as being best placed to do so mid-war. They may make selective interceptions or edits to mail, transactions, and records if they can, to influence the war in favor of revolutionary forces. They are waiting for what has been called the ‘Garden Party’ or ‘Night Out,’ the moment in which they will attempt their in-system but off-planet coup of assets. The chances of success are questionable, but never underestimate self delusion and blind ambition.

The Great Diune of Glorious Hiera

Primarily focused in the North, or at least their portion of it. In the wake of the failed bid for the throne, the pro-Hektor Diune elders have called most of its various free members home for an extended family conference, reunion, feast, etc. There are still multitudinous family members and their affiliates diffused across the rest of Hiera – considered either too important or too insignificant to recall from where they are.

The Pact of Mercy

With vows exchanged and their blood staining red the newly fallen snow, the nobles of the Pact withdrew to their estates and strongholds and there began to move their pieces, all the while assembling their retinues and levies. The families refused to attend further gatherings of the Prince’s Council and adopted a public stance as that of reformers, demanding better governance and the prosecution of those who had led the House astray. 

When the Day came, and molten shards of the Wintermoon estate streaked brightly across the Hieran sky, the Pact raised their armies that were initially dispersed across the snow swept planet. The first challenge facing the disparate nobles of the Pact would lie in uniting their forces.

With a tumultuous start to the campaign, several names would earn renown, the Herzog Kettelbach with all his Ritters beat back a royalist ambush at the Battle of Hutten’s Bluff, while the Wolf-Sisters leading a forced march through the Turncoat’s Wood encircled and destroyed a host of Family Ebner levies, before joining their forces with Lady Arqiva of the White Forest in the Donmus Glacial Ice Fields south of Ven City.

The agreed upon assembly point, a settlement of pressure and thermal tents sprung amidst the glaciers for three days as Pact forces trickled in. Though not all of the signatories of the Pact were present, held up or prioritising the defence of their own estates, those present in the Ice Fields agreed that on the third day they would begin their march on the capital.

Lady Arqiva would assume overall command of the war host, a diverse band of forces from across Hiera, Ritters from the capital, frontiersmen from the Oblast and her own rangers from the White Forest among them. Evoking the Lunatic Rain as a portent of victory, she would lead the Pact’s advance on the capital of Ven City, believing that it would be there where the fate of House Crux would be decided.

The Fireseekers

The Fireseekers were the pinnacle of Hiera’s unrest, the flames licking at the gate. A Meistersinger of little renown was stabbed by a serf during a live interview, allegedly for treachery to the House. A Scharfrichter, seemingly overtaken by rage and madness, slew her own Richter following the Richter’s declaration of support for the deposition of Hektor before taking refuge in the White Chapel of the Imperial School of Law. A small JES group locked up their own commander and took unofficial action against an alleged group of weapons traffickers in a Darvasan country club, firing upon several powerful Nobles linked to the Summer Court. These acts seemed disparate at first, but the perpetrators always either immolated themselves or spoke of the “flame,” and “healing,” House Crux desperately needed.

These acts would only escalate as the Day of Shattered Stars drew nearer, ships and buildings taken hostage, prominent anti-Hektor figures attacked or killed, public declarations against treachery and defilement within the House, and sermons of spiritual emergency. The moniker of the Knights of Mercy, those who had purged House Crux under Helena before the Scream, was sporadically applied to the group both by themselves and the coverage of their actions, but without a cohesive central leadership, and disparate opinions of what healing House Crux required, the name struggled to stick. Most notably, the Alexandron Tor on Prime would be locked down for the two weeks leading up to the Day of Shattered Stars under threat of terrorist and guerilla attacks. Zealots and crowds would preach the wonders of Hektor and chant phrases of opposition to those who sought to end his reign, but from amongst them would come the bombers and assailants that eventually forced House Crux to respond and push the protestors back.