Raezyr bent down and reached inside the dead alien's jacket to see exactly what it was the alien had been reaching for. Holding the object up, Trychon and Raezyr both gazed at the data pad that he had been holding.
They glanced at each other for a moment. "Uh oh," was all Trychon said before the half brothers each grabbed an arm and drug the body back aboard the Jet Razor. They stuffed it into the refresher and decided they'd shove it out of the airlock once they returned to space.
After securing the ship a second time, they headed into the town to get a feel for the place and look for the cantina where they were supposed to meet their Zabrak buyer.
They walked around the town for a bit, enjoying the cool evening breeze when suddenly a middle-aged human man, maybe 50 standard years of age stumbled out of a narrow, dimly-lit side street. At first glance his clothes appeared to be well tailored of fine cloth, but upon closer inspection, they were well worn and a bit frayed around the edges.
He reached out and grabbed Raezyr by the arm, nearly causing Raezyr to draw his weapon again, but something kept him from it. "Please, young sirs, I require your help."
What do you think, Trych? Raezyr thought to the other Sith. Should we tell him to 'Get lost, old man. We're busy' or 'We'd be glad to help'?
Nah, I think you should say, 'Please tell us more, before we agree to help you' Trychon thought back.
"Please tell us more, before we agree to help you," Raezyr said to the man.
"Very well. I owe a large sum of money to the owner of a local gambling establishment. Two of his thugs are coming down the street right now to collect payment, but I only have a portion of the money. If I don't pay them the full amount, they may beat me up, or worse. I just need someone to help me convince them that I just need a couple more days to come up with the money," the man explained.
"We have problems of our own. Why should we care what happens to you?" Trychon countered.
The older man sighed. "I have a very sick wife, and I'm the only person on Talus who will look out for her. I've spent everything I had looking for a cure, and I wagered a large sum of money on what was supposed to be a sure thing so I could keep looking for a cure. I tell you what, if you help me right now, I'll give you some of the money I do have. I still may be able to come up with the full amount to pay back the casino owner with the extra time you buy me."
Raezyr rolled his eyes, and Trychon exhaled loudly, slumping his shoulders. "Fine, but this better be worth our time," Raezyr commented.
"Oh, thank you so much!" the older man exlaimed, and turned back down the dark side street, beckoning the younger men to follow. He lead them down the narrow way for nearly half of a block when they saw two large humans step around the corner at the end of the street and begin to head towards them.
Raezyr noticed Trychon looking around uneasily. Do you sense something amiss?
Trychon just nodded his head.
Is it a trap? I'm not sensing anything. Raezyr thought.
No, not that. It's... something else. The old man himself, I think. Trychon thought back.
Raezyr stretched out his senses. He could feel that the two thugs approaching them had become wary, apparently not expecting to see anyone but the old man, but he still couldn't get a grip on what Trychon was feeling.
"You have our money, old man?" One of the thugs asked when they finally came face to face. Both of the thugs were large, well muscled humans, and both carried blasters in low-slung holsters tied down on their thighs. They seemed a bit cautious due to Raezyr and Trychon's presence.
"I can't pay you right now. Tell Yurik that I'll have his money by the end of the week, in full," the older man explained.
"No, today was your deadline. No extensions. If you can't pay, then we'll just have to take it out of your hide!" the second thug said and reached out to grab the man's tunic.
Raezyr stepped forward and knocked the man's hand away with his forearm. "You won't be taking anything out of anyone's hide today."
The thug opened his mouth to speak but Trychon stepped forward and continued. "You have two choices. You can go back and tell Yurik that you gave the man here until the end of the week."
Silence filled the air for a moment before the first thug spoke again. "Or?" he said, prompting Trychon to continue.
"Or you can go back and tell your boss that you gave the man until the end of the week... minus a limb or two," Trychon stated flatly.
The thugs looked at each other for a second, then burst out laughing. "Nice try, nerf-herder, you don't even have weapons. I think we'll stick to our original plan. Killing you two will just be a bonus," the first one said, and they both dropped their hands, palming their blasters.
In an instant, black and red lightsabers flashed to life and sliced through flesh and bone, removing the thug's gun arms above the elbows. Trychon reached out with his off hand and Force pushed the men backwards to the ground.
Trychon kicked the blasters into a drainage gate in the gutter while Raezyr approached the two men who were moaning in pain and cradling the stumps of their arms. "You chose unwisely," Raezyr said, grinning and holding his red blade in front of them.
"Please, M-master Jedi, we're sorry, we... we didn't know," stammered the first thug. Raezyr snarled silently and flicked his wrist, removing the man's ear.
"I am NOT a Jedi," he stated quietly so only the thugs could hear. "Now return to you master, before I decide to leave body parts more vital to you for the carrion to feed upon."
He watched as they scrambled to their feet and ran down the street from the direction they had come. Flicking his blade off, he returned it to his belt, then joined Trychon and the older man.
"Thank you so much for your help, here is the money I promised you," he said, taking a pouch from inside his tunic. He placed it in the palm of Trychon's hand and turned, walking away quickly.
Suddenly, Trychon heard the man's thoughts almost as if he had spoken them aloud. Suckers! If those fools only knew the truth!
Rage instantly flooded Trychon at being taken advantage of, and he unleashed a Push so violent, the man flew forward several feet and landed on his chest. The brothers heard grunt as the wind was knocked from him.
Raezyr didn't comprehend exactly what was going on, but he knew enough to back Trychon's play, and together they jumped forward and hauled the man to his feet. Trychon shoved his unignited hilt into the man's belly. "I think you have some more to tell us," he snarled, still irate.
The man began wimpering. "Please, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!"
"Talk, damn you!" Raezyr said, grabbing the man by the throat.
"Okay! I lied! I do owe money to Yurik and those men, but it's because I paid them to kill my wife! She was rich, and was going to cut me out of her will because I was unfaithful. I told them I'd pay them when I inherited her estate, but I was planning on stiffing them and running to Corellia. My transport was delayed from tonight until tomorrow morning, and I needed the extra time! Please don't kill me! Oh, Sith spit, I just soiled myself" the man blurted, tears streaming down his face.
Trychon grinned at Raezyr. "How much did you inherit?" he asked.
"A million credits."
"Transfer that money to us, and we'll let you live," Raezyr said.
"But... but, I'll have nothing to live on!" the man blubbered.
"It's a generous offer we're making. Everyone who's double crossed us in the past, made the 'final hyperspace jump' shortly after, and we'll not make the offer again," Trychon informed him.
The man quickly decided that it wasn't his time to die. He pulled out his data pad, and within a few minutes, Trychon and Raezyr were a million credits richer. They watched as the man ran away down the street, still crying.
Trychon looked down at the account balance showing on his data pad, then over at Raezyr and grinned. "You want to go get an ale? I'm buying."
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