3 members
Sixth House / TRAITOR
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Piracy -
Bounty Hunting
Come across us? Pay – or be destroyed. We camp, we gank, we kill for no reason. It’s all we do. For fun.
History
The Founding
The Sixth House emerged from the ashes of betrayal in 2947, when three former UEE Navy operators were dishonorably discharged for refusing to abandon a lucrative salvage operation in Pyro. Stripped of rank, benefits, and honor, they realized that the so-called “legitimate” powers of the galaxy were nothing but hypocrites—enforcing laws that served the few while the many scrambled for scraps.
Commander Valen Kross, pilot Sienna “Reaper” Vex, and engineer Marcus Drell pooled their remaining credits to purchase a battered Cutlass Black. They took contracts the Navy wouldn’t touch, worked for clients the Advocacy wouldn’t protect, and operated in systems where law was just a suggestion written in blood and vacuum.
The name “Sixth House” came from an old Earth legend—five great houses fell, and from their ruins, a sixth arose, bound not by noble blood but by pragmatic necessity. In the lawless reaches of Pyro, Stanton’s shadows, and the forgotten corners of Spider, the Sixth House grew from a desperate crew of three into something darker, more efficient, and infinitely more dangerous.
Rise Through the Underworld
Word spread quickly in the right circles. The Sixth House didn’t just complete contracts—they made problems disappear. Cargo that needed to vanish, ships that needed to “suffer accidents,” witnesses who needed to become permanently silent. They asked no questions, maintained no loyalties except to credits, and left no traces.
By 2949, the organization had established operational cells in four systems. They weren’t the largest syndicate, nor the most brutal—but they were the most reliable. In a universe of backstabbing criminals and incompetent thugs, the Sixth House stood apart: professional, lethal, and utterly without conscience.
The Blood Doctrine
The turning point came during the Goss Incident of 2950. A rival syndicate ambushed a Sixth House operation, killing two contractors and stealing a high-value cargo shipment. The response was surgical and absolute. Within 72 hours, every member of the rival organization was dead, their assets seized, and their bases reduced to debris fields.
But something changed in that moment. As Valen Kross stood among the wreckage, watching the last rival ship burn, he realized something profound: he hadn’t enjoyed the credits from the recovered cargo. He’d enjoyed the hunt. The kill. The look in their eyes when they realized they were prey.
The Sixth House had started as mercenaries—killers for hire. But they had evolved into something purer, more honest: killers because killing is what they are.
It was Kross who coined the phrase that would become their creed: “Our only motive is blood.” Not revenge. Not profit. Blood—the primal truth beneath all the civilized lies. The admission that at our core, we are predators, and everything else is just pretense.
From that moment forward, the Sixth House stopped pretending they were in it for the money.
Present Day
In 2952, the Sixth House operates as a loosely organized pack of apex predators. They still take contracts sometimes—credits buy ships and ammunition, after all—but payment is no longer the primary motivation. They hunt because they are hunters.
Some days they camp popular transit routes and destroy every ship that passes, regardless of cargo or affiliation. Other days they let valuable targets go because the chase wasn’t interesting. Sometimes they take contracts and complete them flawlessly. Other times they abandon contracts mid-mission because better prey appeared.
Their reputation has evolved beyond “reliable mercenaries” into something far more terrifying: “utterly unpredictable killers.” You cannot buy their loyalty. You cannot predict their behavior. You cannot reason with them.
They camp. They gank. They kill for no reason except that it amuses them. The galaxy calls them traitors, murderers, and monsters.
They don’t bother to call it anything. They just hunt.
Manifesto
Our Only Motive Is Blood
The so-called “civilized” powers of the galaxy—the UEE, the corporations, the merchant guilds—they dress up violence in paperwork and call it justice. They steal and call it taxation. They murder and call it law enforcement. They’re hypocrites wearing clean uniforms, pretending their hands aren’t covered in the same blood that stains ours.
We reject the lie.
We are what they pretend not to be: honest predators in a predatory universe.
But we are not mercenaries. We are not soldiers of fortune. Credits are convenient, but they are not the reason we pull the trigger.
We kill because we can. Because we want to. Because it amuses us.
The galaxy is full of people trying to justify their violence—for country, for corporation, for survival, for justice. We need no justification. We hunt because we are hunters. We destroy because destruction is its own reward. We camp, we gank, we kill for no reason except that it pleases us to do so.
This is what makes us truly dangerous. An enemy motivated by profit can be bought off. An enemy motivated by ideology can be reasoned with. But an enemy motivated by nothing but the pure joy of violence? That enemy is inevitable, implacable, and infinite.
The Five Principles
1. VIOLENCE IS ITS OWN REWARD
We don’t kill for credits—we kill because it’s what we are. The hunt, the ambush, the moment when someone realizes they’re about to die—this is the purest form of existence. The galaxy is full of predators who pretend they’re something else. We’ve stripped away the pretense. We embrace what we are. Every kill is an affirmation. Every act of destruction is honest in a way that civilized society can never be.
2. CHAOS OVER ORDER
The UEE wants control. Corporations want predictability. Everyone wants a universe they can understand and exploit. We are the reminder that entropy always wins. We strike without warning, without pattern, without reason. Today we might take a contract for credits. Tomorrow we might blow up a ship because we’re bored. Next week we might let someone go just to watch them run. The only constant is that we are ungovernable, unpredictable, and uncontrollable.
3. LOYALTY HAS NO PRICE
We don’t work together because of contracts or mutual benefit—those are just convenient fictions. We work together because we recognize kindred spirits. Other predators who understand that violence is not a means to an end but an end in itself. When we protect each other, it’s not business—it’s pack mentality. When we hunt together, it’s not strategy—it’s shared joy in the kill. Our bond is blood, not credits.
4. MERCY IS INCOMPREHENSIBLE
The concept of mercy implies we care about our victims enough to spare them. We don’t. They’re prey. You don’t show mercy to prey—that would require seeing them as something other than targets. We aren’t cruel; cruelty implies emotional investment. We’re simply apex predators doing what apex predators do. Some die quick. Some die slow. The difference is whim, not morality.
5. FREEDOM THROUGH ANNIHILATION
Every law, every social contract, every moral code is a cage built by cowards too afraid to embrace their true nature. We have broken free. We destroy not to build something new, but because destruction is liberation. Every ship we vaporize is a declaration of independence from civilized hypocrisy. Every pilot we kill is proof that their rules don’t bind us. We are free in a way the law-abiding can never comprehend.
The Blood Compact
When you join the Sixth House, you make a simple acknowledgment: you are a predator among sheep, and you’ve found your pack.
We don’t ask where you came from. We don’t care about your past crimes or former allegiances. We care only that you understand the truth: violence is not a necessary evil or a means to an end. Violence is the point.
Some days we take contracts because credits buy ships and ammunition. Other days we hunt for free because the prey looked interesting. Sometimes we let targets go just to hunt them again later. Sometimes we kill indiscriminately because the mood strikes us.
We are not consistent. We are not fair. We are not rational.
We are honest.
Cross us, and you become prey. At that point, whether you die quickly or slowly, publicly or privately, depends entirely on how entertained we are by the prospect.
Our Promise to the Galaxy
We are inevitable. In every shadow of every station, in every unmonitored corridor of every space lane, the Sixth House watches and waits. We are not a service—we are a force of nature. We are the consequence of a universe that pretends violence is civilized.
Come across us? You have no options. You cannot predict us because we are not predictable.
Maybe we’ll kill you. For credits, for sport, for no reason at all.
Maybe we’ll ignore you. Because you’re boring, because we have other prey, because we felt like it.
Maybe we’ll toy with you. Disable your ship and watch you drift. Hunt you across systems. Make you think you’ve escaped, then remind you that you haven’t.
The terrifying truth is that you’ll never know which until it’s too late.
We camp. We gank. We kill for no reason.
Not because we’re paid to. Not because you wronged us. Not because of some strategic objective.
Because violence is what we are. Because the hunt is its own justification. Because in a universe of pretenders, we are authentically, irredeemably predatory.
It’s not personal. It’s not professional. It’s not even interesting most of the time.
It’s just what we do. For fun. For blood. For nothing at all.
Because in the end, we don’t need a reason.
Charter
No need for a charter.