August 30, 2009

510. Den Var - Trychon

Raezyr and Trychon spent the next three days wandering around the walkways of Den Var, or at least the one particular district. Since Den-Var was nearly a city-planet, the various districts were broken down nearly arbitrarily and with little difference... remnants of when they were separate cities. It left a lot for the two to learn about the planet, but they were simply happy to be in a modern setting again.

Trychon did a bit of searching for a merchant who had the sort of technology he was looking for. Raezyr commented more than once that he was like a woman trying to find the perfect dress, as Trychon whined about the selection before finding what he was looking for, or some of it. He grumbled about having to update some of it himself, but Raezyr noticed he was becoming more himself, now that he had a datapad to tinker with.

Raezyr had taken care of most of their general acquisition needs while Trychon nitpicked his own shopping list. They kept in touch via comlink and were able to get a general feel for the area and the people.

They met up at different establishments the first two nights. Both were similar to other cantinas and pubs they'd run across before, but neither had the general feeling they'd enjoyed at Club Sky, so that was where they met up on the third, and what they assumed to be their last, night on Den Var for a few weeks.

Raezyr was there first, and found a table nearer the Sabaac tables than the other night, hoping that they'd get more personable service and less of the mechanized versions. There was also the possibility that they'd decide to try their 'luck' at Sabaac again. They'd played for just a few hours at the other bars, really getting a rhythm together and figuring out how to manage to win a hefty sum without cleaning out their victims too quickly. They'd managed to pay for their restocking and all but a few of Trychon's new gadgets in this manner, and even though they hadn't needed to do even that, Raezyr really hoped to earn the rest of their expenditures back.

One of Raezyr's hopes was rewarded when he was approached by a true server and not a droid, however it wasn't an attractive woman as he'd hoped, but a middle aged man. Raezyr shrugged off his fortune and after the hearty greetings from the enthusiastic server, he ordered a pair of the local brews. Together, he and Trychon had narrowed the Taxl monks' ale into a particular group, and were still searching for something that would serve as a good substitute when they ran out.

When the drinks arrived, Raezyr decided not to wait for his brother and poured his ale. He took a sip and made a disappointed face at the glass. He felt Trychon enter the area, and waved him over. It was a pointless gesture, but he felt it made them appear more normal. He grabbed the empty glass and poured out the other ale for Trychon as he made his way to the table and sat down.

The older brother smiled immediately as Raezyr slid him the now full glass. He took a drink and made a disappointed face at the glass. "Nope. Not even close. Still... yum!" He drank a bit more, and his smile returned.

Raezyr matched his actions by drinking as well, and decided that it wasn't bad at all... it just wasn't what they were looking for. "So you're ready then?" When Trychon nodded, he continued. "Good. I am too. When I checked in earlier, Mannix was roaming around a bit more. His mood is just as sour, but he's becoming more curious I think. We should probably leave before it overwhelms him and he decides he wants to take a look. Then he'd be truly overwhelmed."

Set in their plans for the next day, they discussed their experiences from around the district, which Raezyr had learned was referred to as the Lodo District. In general, they found that there was a real mix of aliens in the area, either more so than other planets they'd been on or perhaps they were less segregated, and more intermingled.

Raezyr mentioned that he'd been out on the walkways both with and without his helm. In either instance, he felt no odd glances or feelings. The populace seemed to be overwhelmingly accepting and welcoming. Trychon agreed that he'd received nothing less than positive greetings wherever he'd gone. There was not even any overlying sense of potential discovery of their reputation in the core worlds.

They had several different ales over the course of an hour or so, though they still struggled to find anything of a quality similar to what the monastery had produced. They relaxed and enjoyed simple idle conversation and laughs.

Eventually, there was a Sabaac table that had a pair of humanoids leave, their luck having run thin. There had been plenty of open seats prior, but this table seemed to be particularly inviting. There was five remaining players at the table, including two furry aliens neither Trychon nor Raezyr recognized the species, two portly bearded humans, and a Rodian who seemed to be doing very well for himself. Raezyr gestured towards the open seats, and Trychon nodded before they grabbed their drinks and headed over.

Raezyr and Trychon made no attempt to pretend to be unacquainted, as most of the bar had probably seen them together now. They took the open spots at the table, Trychon between one of the bearded men and a the unknown alien, and Raezyr between the other fuzzy alien and the Rodian. It appeared as though the two who had left had indeed been pretty down on their luck. The two humans and the pair of aliens both had decent piles of credchips in front of them, and while frustrated, still seemed to be in fair spirits. The Rodian gave off waves of happiness though, as he had by far the largest amount, by orders of magnitude.

There was some small talk through the first few hands, and it turned out that the Rodian had indeed earned a bit off of both the groups at the table, but a near fortune off the two who'd left. The two Sith had to take a different tactic from some of their other games they'd played in for several reasons, but mainly because they cared more about being accused of cheating at this bar than the others they'd played at.

They started out playing naturally, without trying to influence the other players too much or even feeling into the Force intentionally for a sense of direction in the hand. They had a few decent hands, but also found themselves slowly bleeding chips to the Rodian, who was as smug and pleased as ever. Raezyr and Trychon planned out how to handle the game through a brief discussion using the Force.

Through feeling the gentle waves of the near future, they had a sense of what to expect, though not perfect. They continued slowly losing credits, though they did their best to lose some back to everyone but the Rodian. As their confidence grew, so did their success against the Rodian. They then continued to help by concentrating on the various players and trying to pass on certain emotions of wariness, risk taking, and so forth to nudge them in the right direction as they saw it.

The Rodian on the other hand, became increasingly frustrated and began to gamble more recklessly without any direct influence from the two Force users. It was then, as he was down a third of his chips and losing patience quickly even though he still had more than half the wealth at the table, that the two brothers began taking chunks of his credits for themselves.

The mood at the table was quite chipper outside the one card player, and there was jokes and chuckles along with the occasional bought round. Finally, the Rodian snapped and threw his cards down and pounded the table before calling security, who was already on their way. He was quick to accuse the table of cheating, particularly the human newcomers, who now had most of his chips as well as some from the rest of the table. He started mentioning names and explaining his credentials as a gambler, and was clearly dumbfounded as to what had happened.

The two Sith said nothing, and didn't have to as their new friends quickly came to their defense, pointing out how the brothers had been down in chips before capitalizing on the Rodian's mistakes... which he'd made from being already flustered. The Rodian was outraged and began to lunge at one of the furry aliens, but Raezyr was quick to catch the man's outreaching hand in his own.

Raezyr was on his feet in a flash, with both hands on the Rodian's jacket, but he decided to wait, and was rewarded when the Security guards grabbed the Rodian and led him away.

Trychon patted Raezyr on the shoulder and said "Well, boys... I think that's about all the excitement WE can take tonight..." He was slightly inebriated, and knew that Raezyr and their friends were as well. "Let us buy you fellows one more round at our table before we leave though."

All four of the Sabaac players agreed, equally happy about the Rodian's gambling demise, and all a few credits richer for it... though none as much as Trychon or Raezyr. They all sat down at the table and enjoyed a few stories and ales. The aliens got up to leave one round before the two bearded men did. When the bearded men got up to leave, they insisted upon a friendly embrace. The man who hugged Raezyr paused after releasing him.

"You guys are some of the kriffin nicest strangers we've ever met." He took off his black hat, which was flat crowned and had an encircling brim that turned up slightly on the sides, and he placed it on Raezyr's head. "Take this! It's a great hat... you'll love it!"

The other man handed his similar brown hat to Trychon, who held the hat for a moment before exclaiming... "This... is a great hat!" before placing it on his head with a genuine smile from ear to ear.

Raezyr thanked the men, who went on their way. As he was leaving a few credchips on the table for their bill as well as a gratuity for the man who'd originally served them as well as the women who served them as they played cards, the middle aged man walked up to them and introduced himself. The Sith brothers didn't catch his name, but he handed them a card and told them they were invited upstairs for a more exclusive party.

Raezyr responded slowly, starting to strongly feel the effects of the last three rounds. "I really like this... part of the bar. Thank you though... maybe next time."

Then the two Sith left Club Sky and headed back to their ship to get some rest.


----------


Trychon slowly opened his eyes, but was unable to see anything initially. Shaking off some of the cobwebs in his mind from the drinks they'd had the previous night, he tried to put his hand to his face and ended up pulling away the brown hat he'd received from their new friends whose names escaped him.

He got up and stretched, yawning as he walked out to the cockpit, with the hat firmly in place on his head. He found Raezyr making the final preparations for launch to head to Hoth.

Raezyr looked at him for a moment before laughing. "How many rounds did we have last night?"

Trychon yawned again. "Counting them takes the fun away. Except when you're counting."

Raezyr shook his head, which was not adorned in the black hat. "Those hats are kind of ridiculous."

Trychon took his off and looked at it before placing it on the console. "Yeah... I think I like them." He grinned.

Raezyr began working on his preflight routine again. "Don't get too comfortable... you have a message to send, don't you?"

Trychon vaguely remembered losing some bet to Raezyr, perhaps about the reaction of the Rodian, but he was unsure as to what it actually was.

He headed to the back, where their holomessage recorder was, and took a moment to remember what he'd decided to say. He knelt and lowered his head in a sign of respect and loyalty before turning the recorder on.

"Master Eiron... we've returned from our mission among the Taxl Monks on Altax III. Our mission was met with mixed success...."

August 28, 2009

509. Flight of the Decoy - Raezyr

Tyrrazapon pulled back into the speeder parking bay a short while later and parked. They grabbed their things as they hopped out and headed toward the turbo-lift that would take them up to the main level of Kal Van-Dohr's headquarters. Anya was practically skipping with delight.

"Dang, girl," Tyr commented. "What's gotten into you?" he asked as they entered the lift-car and activated the controls.

"I'm all hopped up on adrenaline," she said grinning. "What a rush! I mean, we just pulled off our first real assassination. Okay, I know that, like, on Coruscant or whatever, we did stuff like that, but Master Eiron was helping us, keeping the real heat off of us. This time it was all us, you know?" she said as she paced inside the small car.

Suddenly she stopped, turned, and looked at Tyr. "I need to burn some of this energy off..." she said with a deadly serious look in her eyes.

"Well, I guess you could go..." Tyr began, but was interrupted as Anya dropped her gear and lunged forward at Tyr, wrapping her arms around his back and up over the back of his shoulders. Pushing him up against the wall, she pressed her lips to his fervently, feverishly.

The door to the turbo-lift opened moments later, and Anya pulled herself away. She picked up her gear and stepped out, pausing to say, "thanks," as if he had just held the door open for her or something else equally mundane.

Tyr could hear here footsteps echoing down the hall as she walked away, yet he stood there, staring blankly at the doorway she had just exited. After a moment or two, his wits began to return and he picked up his own gear, which he hadn't even remembered dropping, and made for his own quarters.

He could still feel his heart pounding loudly and thought it might break through his chest as he punched in the door code. He dumped his things unceremoniously on the floor, then stripped down and jumped into the refresher. The sani-steam felt good pouring over him, relaxing him.

After awhile he shut it off, and wrapped a towel around himself, then stepped out of the refresher. Anya was sitting on the edge of his bed. "'Bout time you got outta there," she commented happily. "What do you say we go to the lounge and get a drink? You know, to like, celebrate or something?"

Tyr held the towel in place around his waist with one hand and scratched the back of his head with the other. "Uh, didn't we just celebrate twice?"

"No, silly, that was just burning off some excess adrenaline, I'm talking about relaxing, unwinding. So... you in?"

"Yeah, I guess, just give me a second to throw something on and I'll meet you down there."

"Okay, see you in a few!"

When she had gone, Tyr grabbed some clothes and slipped into them, joining her in the lounge just a few moments later. Kal and a few others of his crew were playing sabaac over at a table in the corner, while a serving droid was just handing two drinks to Anya at the small bar.

"Yeah, it is nice to have our own serving droid. There's a funny story to how we got 'im," Kal was telling Anya, turned partially in his chair to talk to her. "Hey, Tyr. What're you guys doing up this late?"

Tyr walked over and sat down on a bar stool next to Anya, taking the drink she handed him. It smelled like pretty decent ale. He took a sip and decided it smelled better than it tasted. "We just got back from taking care of your problem."

"You what?" Kal asked, his mouth hanging open in astonishment. "Already?"

"Sure," Anya replied. "Why? Is there a problem with that?" she asked, a bit confused about his response.

"Ah, no... I uh... I just thought you'd plan it out a little more. Take a couple of days, stake it out... make sure nothing went wrong. That sort of thing," Kal explained. He grabbed his mug and took a big gulp, then quickly played a card. He winced immediately, looking at what he had played. Clearly it wasn't the card he wanted to play, and sure enough, he lost the hand.

Through the Force, Tyr could sense the heightened stress and nervousness coming from Kal, and it wasn't because he lost the hand. The stress had begun as soon as he found out they had already taken out their target. Tyr leaned in close to Anya and whispered in her ear.

"Feel that stress?"

She nodded.

"He's nervous about something, and it's giving me a bad feeling."

"I know what you mean," Anya replied.

"Would you mind, uh, doing that... thing... that you do and see if you can find out what he's hiding?" Tyr suggested a bit sheepishly.

Anya turned and looked at Tyr, then cocked her head to side. With a perky grin she quietly replied, "Sure. Consider it found out."

She hopped of her bar stool and sauntered over behind Kal, then leaned over and, resting her elbows on his shoulders, and interlacing her fingers on top of his head, rested her chin on the back of her hands. She whispered something to Kal, and he chuckled.

Tyr tossed back the last of his ale and set the glass down. "Night folks," he said. He waited briefly for a reply, but none came. Anya already had Kal's attention completely.

Lucky son of a gun, Tyr thought as he left.

August 26, 2009

508. Flight of the Decoy - Raezyr

"This is just great," Tyrrazapon said watching their target from their hiding spot across the street. He and Anya were tucked back in the shadows, away from the artificial light that filled the entirely enclosed city. The artificial lights were turned up during daylight hours, and gradually dimmed during the night time, an effort to simulate normal day cycles.

"I don't see what's so bad about it," Anya commented. She watched as their Bothan target pulled the human male into her apartment building and closed the door behind them.

"She was supposed to live alone, but tonight of all nights, she just had to bring home one of her drunken customers from the tap caf," Tyr replied.

"So?" Anya asked. "Now we get to kill two people instead of just one. One for each of us. I've got all kinds of tinglies just thinking about it."

Tyr looked at Anya and grinned. "'Tinglies?' You know, I can't decide whether you're the best Sith ever, or the worst."

She gave him a look of mock indignation, then returned his grin. "I'm so excited, I can't wait anymore!" she said and sprinted across the street.

"No... wait!" Tyr called in a loud whisper, then shook his head. "Ah, hell," he said, shaking his head and sprinting after his blond partner, finally catching up with her at the door to the building.

Anya fiddled with the lock for a moment, punching in random numbers. Realizing it might take all night her way, Tyr pulled her aside and place the hilt of his lightsaber on the mechanism, then quickly flicked it on and off again.

The blade ignited just quickly enough burn through and melt the controls. Emergency protocols took over and the door slid open. They stepped into the dark hallway beyond and moved quickly and quietly down the corridor, their black cloaks swirling about them.

At each door, they paused briefly, sensing for life forms on the other side. "This is no use," Anya complained in a whisper. "I'm sensing people behind every door."

Tyr ignored her comment and moved to the next door. "Got it."

Anya moved down the hall and stood next to him, trying to sense what had made Tyrrazapon so sure, but all she could discern was two life forms. "How can you tell?"

"Don't sense, listen."

She leaned in a bit closer, straining to hear. Suddenly she heard growling, and pulled back. "There's some sort of guard animal in there."

Tyr grinned. "Bothans tend to growl when they mate... and scratch... and bite," he said in a hushed tone.

Anya gave him a side long glance. "How do you..."

"Don't ask."

Standing back, they both snapped on their lightsabers. The door wasn't very thick, and gave almost no resistance to Anya's blade as she cut an entry through the door.

She was the first one through into the small, single room quarters. It was just big enough for a bed, a desk, a small couch and table. Anya had expected the couple to start screaming, but the man jumped up and stood there, staring in disbelief, while Tasa Key'lyar, her tan fur rippling with irritation and surprise at the same time, was already reaching into a table side drawer.

Anya leaped over the couch and landed on the bed directly over her target, just as the Bothan withdrew a blaster from the drawer. Anya flicked her wrist and cut the blaster in half.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Tyr run his blade through the man standing horrified in the corner, and Anya followed suit, grabbing her hilt with both hands, and ramming the weapon downward.

Tyr flicked his lightsaber off and slipped inside of his cloak. "Let's get out of here. I can almost guarantee that when I opened the outer door, it set alarms off somewhere."

"Aww... I wanted to savor this for a little bit," Anya said, her face a mixture of disappointment and exhilaration at the same time.

A few minutes later they climbed into their borrowed speeder, and Anya suddenly leaned over and grabbed Tyr's head and mashed it to her own. He let the kiss go on for several seconds then pulled away.

"Wh-what was that for?" he asked breathlessly and feeling light-headed.

"I don't know, but it seemed a perfect end to our mission," she said, grinning. "Let's go get a drink."

Tyr hit the ignition switch on the speeder and in moments they were cruising. He didn't know what that had been all about, but he did know he liked it.

August 25, 2009

507. Flight of the Decoy - Raezyr

Tyrrazapon had his drink. A couple of them, actually, then headed back to his quarters to look at the datacard. He tried not to think about Anya and Kal in Kal's quarters, but it was like trying not to think about a pink bantha, right after someone tells you not to think about one.

He sat down at the terminal in his quarters and plugged in the datacard. He began reading and it wasn't long before the comm at the door chimed. Tyr looked at the door for a moment, wondering who it was that would be here to see him. The door chimed again.

He stood up and moved over punched the comm panel next to the door, "Who is it?"

"Who else would it be?" came Anya's voice across the speaker. He could just imagine her rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest. He activated the controls and the door whooshed open.

Sure enough, her pose matched Tyr's imagination to a tee. She then pushed past him and plopped herself down on Tyr's bed. She stretched out and put her hands behind her head. Tyr tried not to watch as she wriggled around a bit, getting comfortable. "So?" she asked.

"So... what?"

She rolled her eyes again and exhaled loudly. "So what did you find out on this Tasa Key'lyar chick?"

"Oh... that. Not much really. She lives in a run down tenament. Security isn't that tight. A few days planning and we should be able to come up with a plan to get us in and out without anyone the wiser," Tyrrazapon told her.

"Hell with that," Anya said, rolling on to her side and propping her head on one hand.

"What do you mean?"

"We want to get noticed, right?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Then let's just bust in there and do it. If someone calls security, all the better," she said matter of factly.

Tyr thought about it for a minute before he spoke. "You're right. Let's do it. She's a waitress at a tap caf... should be working tonight. We don't want to look like we want to get caught, so we'll wait until she gets home, then bust in," he said, leaning back in his chair.

Anya got up and walked over to the console and leaned across Tyr to get a better look at the terminal screen. "That her, then?"

Tyr let his eyes scan Anya's body before looking at the picture of the tan female Bothan on the screen. "Yeah that's her... Say," he said, switching subjects, "out of curiosity, did you and Kal..."

Anya straitened up and put her hands on her his. "Ew! That smarmy nerf-herder? You've got to be kidding me. All I did was put him in our pocket, Tyr."

"Uh... yeah. That's what I thought," Tyr said, trying to recover. "It's just that you're so frackin' good that it's hard to tell sometimes." He leaned back and grinned at her.

"I'm gonna go change," she said and walked over to the door. She activated the switch and the door slid open. "Tyr, if I get serious about a guy... you'll know," she said over her shoulder, and with a small smile she stepped out, the door closing behind her.

August 22, 2009

506. Planet Den Var - Trychon

Trychon and Raezyr lounged in a corner booth at Club Sky. They preferred the corner booths for several reasons, mostly privacy related. While it also caused the potential issue of being cornered, they weren't generally worried about suddenly being attacked by a force they couldn't slice their way through quickly. Not here. Den Var was notably independent of the Republic, which didn't guarantee that they wouldn't run into a Jedi, but it nearly guaranteed that any they did run into would likely also be independent. Any Jedi from the Order who did run across them here or follow them here would hesitate due to jurisdictional issues.

Club Sky was a decent establishment. They'd merely stumbled across it the last time they'd visited this planet, but this time they found it by entering the name into the computer on the speedercab. They'd worked in tandem using their Force link to manage a Sabaac table last time and walked away with much more sizable credchits. This night, or at least night for the locals, they merely observed.

The crowd was fairly evenly mixed, humans and non-humans, with a nice atmosphere that didn't broadcast any sort of feeling of a shadier establishment, as so many of the cantinas they'd been to had. There was of course a feeling in the Force of a bit of shadiness in some individuals, especially around the Sabaac tables, but nothing out of the ordinary.

There were several servingbots wandering from table to table, efficiently taking and retrieving orders for patrons, as well as a handful of sentient servers, mainly around the center bar and gambling area. The servingbot made it to their table fairly quickly after they'd been seated. They would have been served even more quickly if the droid hadn't had to clean their table from the gentleman who had been sitting there before they stood half a dozen meters away giving him a cold look and a gentle nudge in the Force.

They took in their ales as slowly as the waves of emotion through the Force. It was a welcome change of pace for them after being in the company of the Taxl monks for a couple long months. The shifts in emotions towards the end of their stay there was better than their normal state of peace, but it still wasn't the calming white noise of large crowd of beings, ranging the entire spectrum of human emotions and then some.

Halfway through their second ale, Raezyr spoke first. "Quiet trip here..." He was alluding of course the the fact that all three of the travelers had not been very conversational on the hyperspace voyage to Den Var. They'd gotten back into their normal sparring routines, but had not addressed the holocrons at all or really even discussed what had happened to them. Mannix was likely still sitting in his room not even talking to their droid. He had opted to stay on the ship for the time being, though the two brothers would have insisted he stay behind if he had wanted to follow. The boy was already overwhelmed... a planet like this would put his mind into shock.

Trychon swirled his drink and finished it off. "I don't know about you, I just didn't know what there was to say. I had to process what happened. We got lucky."

Raezyr raised an eyebrow at him, unsure whether or not to laugh.

Trychon waved over one of the girls who was wandering around checking on patrons. "I'm serious. We could have died. Vikon was shortsighted for someone who supposedly sees into the future so well. If he knew we had a way off that rock, he likely wouldn't have spared us."

Raezyr understood and nodded.

Just as the he put in his order for more drinks, Trychon finished his comment. "I'm just wondering if we need to rethink our... path."

Raezyr nearly spewed out the ale from his mouth, but refrained from responding until the waitress was out of earshot. "If you're suggesting we join the Jedi you're off your hoverseat." He struggled to keep his voice low. "You don't understand. Not happening."

Trychon stayed quiet as he accepted their drinks, and Raezyr knew he was serious from the fact that he didn't tease or smile at the woman as she gave them their drinks.

Trychon leaned in. "I'm not suggesting that. I just don't know if the enemy of your enemy is your friend. Your own experiences aside, I doubt I would fit in with that lot anyway... they take themselves so seriously. Vikon just got me thinking. Eiron may have been wacky, but we may have been lucky that he was the first Sith we ran into. We listened to Daxon Var tell story after story, and I never let all of it really seep in. I never really thought about being double crossed like that."

Finally letting his own frustration out, Raezyr pounded the table with his fists, though not loud enough to draw attention. "I'm going to kill that pile of bones."

"I know." Trychon nodded. "We'll have to take care of him eventually if we figure out where in space he went with our amulets. Mannix will make sure of that. In the mean time though, what do we do?"

"What are you suggesting? We stop following the Sith teachings? Settle down?"

"I don't really know. I have no problem with the Sith teachings... just some of their practices... and the practitioners." He paused. "I'm not saying we just disappear into the distance and do nothing either. I just think that for now, unless we hear from our real Master, we just avoid actually trying to join up with any other Sith."

Raezyr pondered this for a moment. "We do have the holocrons."

Trychon smiled. "Exactly. We keep learning, and continue with the ventures we already have going on. Maybe get Tyr and Anya out here and work some angles here when we're not working on some of that... out of the reach of the Jedi Order and the Republic. See where we're at after a while."

Raezyr laughed a little as he waved over the servingbot and ordered another round.

"What?" Trychon eyed him.

"You did an awful lot of thinking and explaining to basically decide 'Lets keep doing what we're doing and try not to get electrocuted again.'"

"Shut up, Raez."

August 21, 2009

505. Planet Den Var - Raezyr

Raezyr sat alone on the bridge of the Twilight Stalker. His burns were healing nicely, and he doubted they'd leave any scars other than those inflicted on his psyche. As if that's not scarred enough already, he mused.

Trychon was in his quarters. He wanted to mess with his data cards and computer systems on the way there, as well as run some system's diagnostics. He had mentioned something about a journal, and had tried to convince Raezyr to start one as well, but he wasn't sure he'd even know what to put down in a journal.

They had ordered Aitchkay to accompany Mannix as he spent the first several hours exploring the large spacecraft, and keep the monk from accidentally ejecting himself out of an airlock. After the newness had worn off, and the reality of his situation had sunk in, he had retreated to his cabin and hadn't been seen since.

Raezyr could sense strong emotions of depression, alternating with anger and sadness at times, emanating from Mannix' quarters. He knew the kid would need some time come to terms with what happened, and with no clear direction for any of them right now, he could take whatever time he needed.

He began making a mental checklist of things they needed to do: First, get to Den Var, and after some unwinding, he'd send a message to Dianna, to let her know they were alright, and then pick up what ever supplies they needed. Trychon was sure to want a new datapad, and both the Stalker and the Jet Razor were showing some need of minor maintenance on their systems diagnostics.

Secondly, they needed to track down the Black Phoenix and see how their newly acquired "enterprise" was doing. Falka, their appointed Captain of the pirate/smuggling group had seemed like a competent and experienced individual, but they needed to see how the group was doing for themselves. Besides, Trychon was sure to want to "check up" on Haley Stargazer, the cyborg slicer who had given Trychon fits during their raid on Fillis Riv-ars' pirate group.

They needed to go back to Hoth, and to Korriban, and THX1138, and somewhere in all of that hey needed to report in to Lord Eiron, if he was still even alive, as well as check in with Tyr and Anya.

Raezyr's thoughts were brought back to the present by a small warning indicator. He checked the controls and saw they were nearing the end of their hyperspace jump. Flicking a switch, he made a general announcement over the ships loudspeakers informing Trychon and Mannix of the news.

They came out of hyperspace as close as Den Var regulations would allow, and after getting clearance and making arrangements for a private hangar, landed the large spacecraft at one of the main spaceports.

They gathered what things they'd need for a short stay and after making even more arrangements for some ship maintenance and repairs, made their way to a nearby hotel.

Club Sky, here we come, Raezyr grinned as he stepped out of the refresher and put on a some clean clothes.

August 19, 2009

504. Journals of a Sith: Trychon

It's been a while since I've done this, and I guess I am due. It's been even longer since I've logged anything on a computer besides my datapad though and it feels a bit odd and... well... less private. The Sith Stalker is my ship though, and I need to get used to using it as such even if it's usually relegated to a rear guard for our missions. I double checked all of my datapads, and I haven't lost anything of really value. The Stalker already had most of my best security features anyway... so I just need to get comfortable on the computers here for the time being.

Our mission was a success, sort of. Well, really it wasn't. It depends on how you look at it. Our main objective was to go to Altax IV and cause the Taxl monks there to turn on themselves and tear the entire order apart, despite their pacifist beliefs. We succeeded there... pretty well, if you ask me... even if you consider that we had help we didn't ask for or really want. We would have found a way to get it done any way without Vikon. Anyway, we got it done, save for saving Mannix. That detail doesn't really matter in the grand scale of things though.

The other way of looking at it was that the purpose we were given that objective was to walk away with the Monks' Force imbued amulets. In that, we failed completely. I don't even have the smallest idea where to look for the two timing Sith Lord Vikon, who set us up to do the hard work, and then took us down. Oh, Raezyr and I are both recovering fine from the burns he inflicted... but I'm far from over it. When we'd collected all of our amulets as instructed, he struck us from behind like the coward he is.

It's really got me second guessing what I'm doing for the first time in months. I've been so carried up in our plans and our objectives that I really haven't thought about anything behind the actions. The idea is simple enough. Gain power. We learned the Sith way on the run and in a hurry. We read a few tomes, and were instructed over a matter of days before taking off for a risky mission on Coruscant. I call it a mission, but in reality I think it was just our master's idea of fun. He wanted to cause chaos, and that we did. We even justified it later to Dianna and her crew, who has been helping us out and vice versa.

After Coruscant, we had a few tasks we were ordered to by our erratic master, Eiron. The first was to pick up some holocrons on a mysterious planet. It was mysterious, and troubling... but in the end we managed to take control of the old Sith stronghold there, as well as the planet itself, in a manner of speaking. The other task was the one we're leaving now, partially successful. No word from Eiron though, so I'm going to suggest we go on as though he's gone until we hear otherwise.

In between those missions though, it's just been 'Gain Power'. One of the most basic principals of Sith teachings. The goal, really. I've come up with a few ideas for us to move in that direction, and Raezyr and I have kinda worked on those, but mainly have just been trying to build up some financial base. Anya and Tyr are off playing cat and mouse, but with any luck they may have gathered a few leads and maybe some credits as well. Haven't touched base with them since before this last mission.

Beyond the power though, we haven't really concentrated much on what else it means to be a Sith. We've interacted with one of the holocrons extensively, and learned theory and stories from the 'keeper of knowledge' on that holocron, Daxon Var. Eiron never gave us any real teachings though, so it's ages gone teachers... and books.

So I guess Vikon was my first real taste of the other part of the Sith. The first look at deception from that side of the credit chip, and definitely my first look at betrayal. The torture was horrible, but it will pass. Being used like a tool and then tossed aside to die won't pass. Is that the real meaning of Sith, or is it only the case for some brain cases? The teachings certainly assert that it's... acceptable behavior for Sith... but is it commonplace?

I really had no idea what I was getting myself into when I boarded that shuttle months ago... what now feels like years. The shuttle taking me to Korriban from my home planet was an accident or a coincidence. You could even call it fate, if you believe in it... which I guess I should at least partially now that I may learn to see into the future.

I didn't know much about the Sith or the Jedi, beyond what holovids I'd manage to bargain, beg or slice off of others. Having no memory of where I'd come from before age 5, when I'd shown up in town on my homeworld, I just wanted answers. I got so frustrated with the lack of answers that I think it was why I acted out and left the town years later. In the forest, I found answers and more questions. More puzzles. A few strange structures I kept to myself, and several artifacts that I never figured out at all... but all that I now recognize as having Sith origins. The same symbols covered them as the one gem I was told I was carrying when I walked into the town originally.

That's probably why I was so comfortable with just going along with whatever happened after that. Lost and starving when the shuttle crashed into Korriban, I found more of the same symbols absolutely everywhere. There had to be answers there... or at least a connection. Without any real option to even return to my 'home'... I took it as it came and I followed the mysterious man I met there. The man I much later learned was actually my brother. I guess I really should look into the fate nonsense.

Raezyr and I left behind a woman for the time being to go on a reckless mission with no clear objectives other than answer seeking, which served me fine. We found little other than a few tools left behind from another Sith we assumed dead at the time. Did he have a hand in our actions even then? I hope not. We invited along another trouble maker we ran into in Tyr... and then I think everyone was just going along with the obvious path from there.

Are any of the others worried now too? Probably not Anya and Tyr... as far as I know, they haven't been electrocuted by a Sith Lord. Raezyr? Maybe... I'm sure he's not happy about how that all ended... but he also has a history of sorts with the Jedi, so the Sith way is natural for him, or he probably thinks so.

The Sith teachings make sense, and I feel connected to them because I grew up around those artifacts. I'm ok with using anger and passion as power, and I'm ok with expending lives to gain power. We've done all of that several times and it's been fine. We're gaining quite a bit of power in the Force really. I love it.

I just don't understand the point of this last mission though. Vikon had been there for years. He cleaned us out when we were done. Raezyr and I... hell... probably just Raezyr... could have walked into that Monastery and simply taken the amulets... even killed all the monks if necessary... which it wouldn't have been. Was the mission so we could learn to manipulate those around us? Instill hate? I guess that would make some sense... but what was Vikon's involvement? Couldn't he have done this on his own? Was it meant as a test for him as well? A punishment? For whom... him or the Taxl? Wait... did Eiron know? What if our own 'master' set us up for death by saber in the back?

That's the trouble I'm having. I have no idea how many more Sith are out there or how powerful they are... or if I can trust any of them beyond Raezyr, Tyr and Anya. Should we as a group continue on the Sith path, just wary of all other Sith, never trusting any of them? Then again, isn't that itself the path of the Sith? Distrust of all the others? I guess it would be.

Is that for us though? Is that how we want to continue on? Maybe we'll never even run into Eiron again, let alone another Sith. Should we keep on practicing the powers of the Sith, and the lessons, but distance ourselves from any other Sith? Go out on our own?

Should I simply continue on as I have, and trust that fate has gotten me this far? Seems like that's the path of least resistance and it's gotten me here. Even if 'here' is 'could have died half a dozen times over'.

I need to keep thinking about this, but if I were wagering, that last option seems likely.

I need to talk to Raezyr.

I need a drink.

503. Flight of the Decoy - Raezyr

Tyr lounged in a cushy chair across from Kal Van-Dohr's desk, while Anya sat on the edge of Kal's desk, one leg dangling down and the other tucked underneath her. Kal was leaned back in his chair, feet on his desk and hands locked together behind his head.

"So what exactly is this job you said you had for us?" Tyrrazapon asked his old friend. "You didn't really specify."

"It's not much really. I need someone eliminated. You did say 'anything,' didn't you?" Kal replied to Tyr although his eyes were locked on the blond girl sitting on his desk, toying with the small statue he kept as decoration. Tyr noticed this, and he could see why. Anya was constantly wearing tight-fitting, slinky out fits, and he himself often had trouble keeping his eyes from straying to her.

"He did say that," Anya commented, looking up from the statue and catching Kal's roving glance. "And he did mean 'anything,'" she said, reaching over Kal's feet and across the desk to pick up the writing utensil laying over there.

She held her position for a moment, her lithe body stretched out in front of the smuggler. "Mind if I borrow this?" she asked and smiled coyly. She glanced at Kal and noticed his gaze was on her, but not looking at her face.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Kal said.

Tyr smiled to himself, knowing exactly what Anya was doing, and also wishing he was in Kal's place. "Kal? The job?"

"Uh, right," he said, watching Anya as she slowly sat back up and began writing something on her hand. "Okay, here's the information on the person," he said, tossing Tyrrazapon a data card. "She's a Bothan named Tasa Key'lyar, and we've just learned she's an informant for the Arkanian Security Force.

"Unfortunately, we've had several dealings with her before we knew she was a snitch, and we're pretty sure she's about to sell us out. She needs to be taken care of before that happens," Kal said.

"So why don't you just do it?" Anya asked, looking at the statue once again.

"We don't want any connection when she goes missing. The fewer questions for us, the better. You know how it is."

"Yeah, we know," Tyrrazapon responded knowingly.

They spent the next several minutes asking Kal a few more detailed questions about the Bothan before getting up to leave. "We'll take care of your little problem, Kal. In the mean time, what's a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?" Anya asked, giving the outlaw a sly smile.

"Well, we keep a decent stock in the lounge area, but I keep the good stuff in a cabinet in my quarters. Why don't you come with me, babe, and I'll get you a glass," Kal offered.

"I'm going to have to turn that down, Kal," Tyr said, even though he noticed he hadn't been invited. "I want to look at this file," he said holding the data card up. "I'll take you up on that later."

"Sure," Kal said although he was looking at Anya, and placed a hand on the small of her back, escorting the Sith to his living quarters.

The office door slid shut behind the three of them, and Tyr watched as the other two walked down the corridor, talking. Anya laughed at some joke Kal told as they turned the corner. He knew Anya was good at what she did. She could become the perfect woman for any man she met, and have them wrapped around her finger in no time at all.

He wondered whether the Anya he was starting to fall for was the real one, or just one of the many other women that she pretended to be to get her way.

He concealed his feelings with the Force and headed for the lounge to get an ale. The data file could wait.

August 18, 2009

502. Manipulation of Emotion - Raezyr

Raezyr stood on the ramp of his ship which sat just outside the village. The fires they had lit were still blazing, reducing the monastery to ashes. They had gathered what few supplies they though might be useful, chief among them were several casks of the Taxl ale that had been stored, untapped. Trychon had gathered all of Violet's notes on alchemy and herbalism, and Raezyr had taken his tools from the smith shop, although he didn't really know why.

He tried to imagine what this place would look like in a few years from now, the only evidence of the Taxl monks would be their stone temple, standing like a stone at the head of grave. Turning, he walked up the ramp and activated the controls. The ramp raised with sealed shut with hiss.

Aitchkay, Trychon and Mannix were already seated in the cockpit.

"Pre-flights done, Aitch?" Raezyr asked as the droid got up from the pilot's seat. When he had moved, Raezyr sat down and began the ignition sequences.

"Affirmative, master," the droid replied. He looked about the cockpit for a moment, then took sat down in the passenger seat next to Mannix.

The ship lurched softly as the repulsors kicked in and began hovering, and Mannix began to wildly grab for any handhold. Raezyr chuckled a bit, catching the movement out of the corner of his eye. "You can strap in, if you're feeling nervous," he commented.

"Strap in?" Mannix asked.

Trychon swiveled his seat around and showed the young monk how to work the seat belts, then turned back around to the console. He was still checking the data cards he had retrieved from the crash landing to make sure that his data and programs were still in tact.

Quickly the ship rose above tree level, then began to shoot forward, skimming the tree tops. Raezyr banked around and circled the remains of the monastery so that it was easily visible from through the cockpit viewports. "You want a last look before we break atmo?" Trychon asked Mannix.

He leaned forward and glanced out for a moment, still holding on tightly to the armrests. "There's nothing here for me now."

Raezyr pulled back on the yoke and the craft shot upward. The blue sky quickly melted away into black, pinpointed by the stars. He punched a few commands into the computer and the rear view popped up on on overhead screen, showing the green moon, framed by the gas giant AltaxIV, diminishing as the distance increased. He didn't say anything, but saw the young Monk's eyes riveted to the screen.

It didn't take long to dock with the Twilight Stalker. They secured the two ships, the smaller Jet Razor piggy-backed on the other, and boarded Trychon's ship.

After their systems check showed all systems nominal, and in good working order, they plotted a course for Den Var. They needed to resupply, and both Trychon and Raezyr felt a little bit of rest and relaxation was in order.

Trychon pulled back on the hyperdrive levers and they watched as the stars elongated, and the ship slipped the bounds of realspace, punching through into the mottled blue of super luminal speed.

August 17, 2009

501. Manipulation of Emotion - Raezyr

"Wh-what is that thing, anyway?" Mannix stammered, still staring at the gun-metal gray droid and hiding partially behind Raezyr.

"Information: I am HK-51, protocol/security unit," Aitchkay began in his synthesized voice, "I am fluent in more than three million forms of communication and programmed with more than twelve hundred forms of combat..."

"That's enough, Huck," Raezyr interrupted, then turned to Mannix. "Twelve hundred and one if you include 'talking to death.'"

Mannix just stared at the machine, not sure what to make of it. Raezyr and Trychon just chuckled. "You better get used to him, kid. Unless you plan on staying here by yourself, that is."

"What happened? After you told me to leave, I went and hid at the mine. Where are all the survivors? And where are my parents?" Mannix asked, clearly close to tears.

Raezyr turned to Trychon, clearly at a loss for words.

Trychon rolled his eyes and injected the stim that Aitchkay had just handed him. Immediately he began to feel better as the effects started to wash over him. "Look, let's go over to that bench and sit down. This is probably going to be hard for you to hear."

They walked to the nearby bench and sat down. "I don't know of any easy way to say this, so I'm just going to put it bluntly. Everyone you have ever known is dead."

Mannix stared blankly for a moment, then tears began to well up in his eyes. "Mom? Dad?"

"I'm sorry, Mannix," Trychon said, resting his hand on the young man's shoulder. "What's worse, is that this whole thing is our fault."

Mannix looked at him questioningly, as did Raezyr. What are you doing? he thought to his brother.

Trychon ignored the telepathic question and continued. "We haven't been entirely honest with you, Mannix. You see, we were sent here by our Master to try and stop Varth. Clearly we failed."

Raezyr turned his head to conceal his grin.

"Varth? What does he have to do with this?" Mannix asked confusedly.

"Our master knew that Varth was really a dark Jedi named Vikon. He's been running around masquerading as one of our order... and order of Force users called the Sith. He knew that Vikon was up to something evil and sent us here to investigate, and to try and prevent him from doing whatever it was he was up to," Trychon explained.

"But why didn't you stop him right away?" Mannix questioned.

"We were instructed not to actively influence the Taxl way of life, and we did that the best we could, while at the same time trying to find out what his next move was going to be. As far as the prophecies go, we always told you that we weren't the ones, didn't we? And at the end, even we started to get sucked into Vikon's web of lies. We know now that he was using the Force to peer into the future, and then making up those prophecies himself, inserting them into places that would make sense as he "transcribed" your ancient manuscripts," Trychon continued.

Mannix stared at the ground, the tears silently falling into the mud at his feet.

"When the fighting broke out, he used that as his opportunity. We tried to warn others to get out, but no one would listen. He attacked us from behind and left us for dead. After making sure that no one was else was alive, he stole the amulets and fled."

Mannix looked up at Trychon, anger and hatred replacing sorrow as the source of his tears. "I hate Var... Vikon so much."

Raezyr squatted down in front of Mannix and looked the young Taxl in the eyes. "You must learn the Sith ways of the Force, if you plan on accompanying us to get revenge on Vikon."

"Teach me," Mannix said with determination, fire burning in his eyes.

500. Manipulation of Emotion - Trychon

Trychon rolled over, only to feel the constant burning pain shift from his back to his chest and midsection. It was moments later before he noticed the damp ground and leaves rubbing on his face. The smell was less than soothing, but that probably was related to another smell he chose not to think about.

As the pain began to subside or become numb, he began to notice a rather more concentrated pain on his ear. It was repetitive, and dissimilar to the pain he had everywhere else on his body. Eventually, he forced his eyes open to try to discern what had happened.

His vision was an entire blur. After closing his eyes and reopening them several times, which only exacerbated the pain in his head, he began to make out colors and edges of shapes slowly through the blur.

Feebly, he worked up the strength to speak. "Aitch? Is that you?"

The computerized voice with a fairly decent emotion modulation responded. "Affirmative: Yes it is, Master. Should I stop poking you now?"

The assassin droid stopped his prodding as Trychon coughed and slowly raised himself to his knees, then began rubbing his eyes, still attempting to coax normal vision out of them. "Raezyr?"

"Master Raezyr regained consciousness about an hour ago. He instructed me to stay with you and attempt to wake you while he attempted to 'round up' a few things." The droid said as he dropped the stick he'd been using.

Trychon got to his feet, finally working up enough concentration to begin to ignore the pain. "Raezyr told you to, did he? Why the ear?" His vision was slowly returning to normal as he focused in on the droid, who didn't respond but instead raised his shoulders in a mechanical shrug.

Almost as though on cue, Raezyr returned to the small clearing with Mannix following dejectedly behind him. "I found a stray..." He called out. "Seems our metal buddy scared him off a bit."

August 12, 2009

499. Manipulation of Emotion - Raezyr

Raezyr's head was spinning. One second he and Trychon were walking back toward the village, the next they were lying face down in the mud. His entire body was tingling, his muscles spasming, and it felt like his whole back was on fire. For a moment he thought they must have been struck by lightning, but the lack thunder told him otherwise.

He pushed himself up to his hands and knees, and tried to shake the disorientation from his head. Looking over at Trychon, he noticed faint traces of electrical sparks flickering and dissipating over his brother's body.

That was when it hit him again, sending him back down into the mud. He heard himself yelling as every muscle in his body seized. The burning pain coursed through him like waves, wracking his being.

Suddenly it was gone again, and he forced himself to roll over. He tried to call on his Force disciplines, summoning the Dark Side to siphon off the pain, but it was so hard to concentrate as the remnant of the electrical impulses blocked clear thought from his mind.

From somewhere he heard laughter and it sounded dark and vindictive. He looked up to see where it was coming from and made out the shape of a figure wrapped in a dark cloak, it's arms stretched toward him, fingers splayed out.

Electricity shot forth from the specter's fingertips and enveloped Raezyr and Trychon, and the pain coursed through their bodies once again. Raezyr could hear Trychon crying out, and he clenched his teeth to keep from doing the same, but his effort was in vain.

Blackness threatened to swallow him, and he fought it back with everything he had. When the waves subsided again, he noticed his lightsaber laying int he mud next to him. Slowly, he forced his arm to move, to reach for his weapon, to somehow protect himself, but a boot kicked the weapon away from him and into the bushes.

The black cloaked figure bent down next to him and ripped his helmet off. "Good," said the voice from the shadow inside the cowl. It was familiar, and Raezyr knew that he should recognize it, but the memory was just out of his pain fogged mind's reach.

"I am glad you are not dead yet," the voice continued. "I want you both to suffer for a long time. You defied me, and mocked me, and plotted your petty little revenge on me. I endured it as long as I needed you, but now you know the true power of the Dark Side."

The figure was rummaging through Raezyr's pouch and as he did, the hood of the cloak slid back just enough to show Darth Vikon's visage. Raezyr tried to speak, to curse the man, but electrical currents still flowed through his body, blocking the control of his functions, and all that issued from his mouth were garbled noises which resembled those of an animal, rather than speech.

Vikon laughed contemptuously as he removed the amulets from Raezyr's pouch, and then moved over and took the others from Trychon. Raezyr could see his brother's eyes rolling around in his head, but knew Trychon was still conscious and just as helpless as he was.

Vikon stood up just as some of Raezyr's functions were returning to his control. Raezyr had just enough time to embrace the Dark Side when Vikon lashed out again.

For a moment, his grip on the Force abated the lightning's effects, but it wasn't enough, and once the Force was gone, the electricity burned through him unchecked.

"How pathetic you are. You really started to believe the lies and the prophecies that I wrote about you, didn't you?" Vikon laughed. "I made you, and now I will break you.

"I'm not going to kill you either," Vikon said as he unleashed another round of the Force lightning. "I am going to bring you to the brink of death, and then leave you here to die slowly, knowing you two slaughtered the only beings on this world who could help you."

Time and time again the lightning came. Over and over for what seemed an eternity, and the only thought that either of the two Sith students had was the wish for death to come.

Eventually, the darkness they had tried so desperately to fight back engulfed them, and everything became nothing.

498. Manipulation of Emotion - Trychon

Not sensing anyone left other than in the one direction, the two Sith placed their lightsabers back on their respective belsts, and walked over to the hut. As they approached, they could hear a few moans, but mainly the cries of Odilo... clearly aware of what was coming, and obviously upset about it.

"No. NO! This can't be the way!" His voice carried out of the hut as Trychon and Raezyr stopped just outside.

Odilo ran to the door and stopped, placing his hands on the walls and spreading his legs, trying to create some kind of barrier to keep the Sith from entering. "This can't be true. How can this happen?"

Raezyr stepped forward first. Trychon spoke though. "If it helps you, Brother... we're merely returning the Force and this planet to the way it was before. Before the Taxl monks settled here." Raezyr lit his blade right through the heart of the Odilo, as he stared at Trychon with resolute fury implanted on his face. He didn't bother with a response before he died.

After his body slumped to the ground, Raezyr grabbed the alien's amulet and tossed it to Trychon before they both entered the healer's hut.

They ended the misery of a few monks lying inside. It was clear that many had been brought here beyond the Brother's ability to heal. There had been several bodies outside and there were just as many inside. They began shuffling through the remains and moving things around. They had to find the remaining Force relic.

As they looked through everything in the small building, they began to become more frustrated as time went by. They were in no hurry, as there was no reason left to hurry for, but they had to have all of the amulets. If it wasn't in this hut, there was no telling where it had ended up. They were ready to leave, but it seemed as though the Force was working against them.

Raezyr slammed his hands against the wall. "NO! Frackit! Where could it be?" He released some of his frustration on the wall again, this time removing a very large portion, but Trychon eventually calmed him and convinced him that it would be solved in the end.

Having exhausted all possibility of the amulet being in Odilo's hut, the two exited. As they walked into the open grounds, the visibility seemed not just a little, but rather magnitudes better. The rain had stopped outright, and the clouds were in remission. There was still the occasional sound of thunder in the distance, but it appeared that the storm had nearly passed.

They didn't spend much time staring into the sky, and instead turned to the paths, overturning bodies with the Force, kicking some many meters in frustration. After what seemed a near eternity in their own impatience, Trychon reached into his pouch and pulled out several of the amulets they'd collected.

He used his practiced ability in channeling the Force through such objects, hoping it would help him find the missing piece. While Raezyr continued to toss aside corpses and curse, Trychon was rewarded with the image of what they were seeking after just a few moments.

He held out his hand as the last amulet flew from the distance into his outstretched hand. "Finally!" He exclaimed. "We have all of their precious amulets. Our wait is over and we can go home."

Then every one of his nerves felt as though they were on fire. All he could see was a blinding light. He could no longer feel his weight on the ground and was unsure if it was because he was going numb, as he was sure he was.

August 11, 2009

497. Manipulation of Emotion - Raezyr

Side by side, the two walked along the pathways of the village. Most of the fighting had subsided, and bodies of injured, dead, or merely unconscious monks lay here and there. Their status didn't matter, because after the Sith had passed by, they were all dead.

Each house they came to, they entered only momentarily; just long enough to sense anybody present. Those they detected quickly met the same fate as all the others.

They kept their eyes out for the five members of the council. They, along with Father Monahan and Brother Odilo were in possession of the amulets which Lord Eiron had instructed them to acquire.

During their rounds, they found the bodies of three of the council members, but only one of which still had his amulet. Trychon removed it and shoved it into his pouch.

They found another of the amulets still being clutched by Gall. He had been stabbed in the chest by a pitchfork and his breath was coming in ragged gasps. Feebly, he tried to stop Raezyr from pulling the amulet from his hand, but a quick slash from the blue lightsaber was all that was required to loosen the youth's grip on the item.

Several monks tried desperately to halt Raezyr and Trychon's path of annihilation, rushing them with whatever makeshift weapons they had. The two let them come on, igniting their blades at the last moment and cutting down the futile attempt as quickly as it had begun.

"This really isn't any fun," Raezyr commented, looking down at dead monks at their feet.

"Mon Cal's in a barrel, Raez," Trychon grinned, the rain running down his face in rivulets, despite protection of the cowl of his cloak.

The wind and rain pounded the Sith apprentices as they approached their final destination. Throughout the fighting, they had seen the injured being taken to Brother Odilo at the healer's hut, and knew that the rest of the monks would be there.

Through flashing of the lightning, they could see Father Monahan and the two remaining council members standing outside of the hut, watching them as they approached.

"We've seen what you've been doing," Father Monahan spoke over the howling of the wind. "Your murderous acts stop here."

"Make this easy on yourself, old man. Just hand over the amulets now and your deaths will be quick," Raezyr replied.

"How could you do this after all we've done for you? We saved you. One or both of you were supposed to be the Chosen One. You were supposed to bring a new era for the Taxl," one of the council members whose name the Sith couldn't remember lamented.

"When this is over, it will be a new beginning. This is the end of the old era," Trychon replied.

"No, this is just the end for you," Monahan said. Holding his amulet in his left hand, he stretched out his other hand toward the half-brothers.

Trychon and Raezyr could see the amulet begin to glow as the other two council members began to take similar postures, their amulets beginning to emit light as well.

Suddenly a wall of Force energy rolled toward the Sith, and they embraced the Dark Side, shielding themselves. The wall hit them and pushed them back a meter before washing over them, and Raezyr and Trychon sprung forward, crossing the ten meter distance in an instant.

The monks tried another Force push, but with their attention divided they were unable to complete it. Trychon removed the hand holding the amulet of one of the council members and Raezyr decapitated the other.

In a last ditch effort, Monahan lifted a nearby wheelbarrow and launched it at the back of Raezyr's head.

At the last moment, Trychon reached out and seized it, freezing it's movement. It hung there for just a moment, the struggle between Monahan and Trychon holding in place.

Raezyr then lent his power to the struggle, and the wheelbarrow began racing through the air at the elderly monk. Monahan, his concentration broken, raised his hands in an effort to ward off the blow, but it was an empty gesture. The heavy wooden barrow smashed into the monk and knocked him back several feet and he lay on the ground, moaning slightly.

Raezyr grabbed the amulet from the monk he had killed, and Trychon finished his job and took that amulet as well. It made a total of four amulets. Monahan still had his, and Odilo still had one inside the hut, leaving only one unaccounted for.

The two Sith brothers walked over to the old monk and rolled the broken wheel barrow off of him. Trychon squatted down beside the Taxl leader. Reaching down, Trychon grabbed the amulet around Monahan's neck and jerked, snapping the Force imbued crystal free.

Monahan's eyes fluttered open. "Why?"

Trychon paused before answering. "Father, I know you're looking for some big answer. Some reason to grasp that might make sense to you, but there isn't one you'll like."

Raezyr knelt down, placing his knee on the man and letting his weight rest on the chest of the already weakened monk. Monahan struggled in vain to breathe. "This is just a training mission for us."

The old monk released his final breath. The falling raindrops landed on his unseeing eyes as the fire in temple garden raged on, it's orange glow tinting the underside of the low-hanging black clouds.

Raezyr and Trychon stood, turning their attention to the healer's hut fifty meters away.

August 09, 2009

496. Manipulation of Emotion - Raezyr

Raezyr stepped behind the partition and stripped off his wet robes. The wind and rain was still howling outside, punctuated by the peals of thunder as the lightning crashed all about them. Outside it was nearly pitch black, despite only being early evening.

Carefully he pulled out the bag which held his armor and strapped it on, piece by piece. He buckled on his utility belt and then clipped his one working lightsaber in it's normal place. He then slung his cloak over his shoulders and clipped it in place about his neck. Picking up his helmet, he tucked it under his arm.

The rest of the house remained silent while he changed, except for the quiet sobs coming from Violet. He heard Mathias finally speak up as he was finishing.

"I suppose I owe you boys some thanks," the big monk sighed. "I still lost a son tonight, although I never thought it would be at my other son's hand. I never would have believed I would need to strike one of my brothers.

"What I don't understand is where Mannix got that big knife," Mathias pondered aloud.

Trychon cleared his throat. "Well, it's my knife. The one Violet gave to me for work, but how Mannix got it, I just don't know."

Raezyr smiled to himself at that, and stepped around the corner. "We appreciate your thanks, but I'm afraid your sentiments are a bit premature."

Violet and Mathias stared in bewilderment as Raezyr slipped the helmet onto his head. "We thank you for taking us in and the hospitality you've shown us, so please know that this isn't personal."

The double snap-hiss of two lightsabers igniting seemed loud in the house, despite the noise from outside. A few moments later, both Sith stepped back out into storm, Trychon now dressed in his usual black fatigues and wrapped in a cloak as well.

August 08, 2009

495. Manipulation of Emotion - Trychon

They made their way as quickly as they could manage through the riots to get back to Mathias' hut. They didn't even bother with any of their would be attackers as they passed, simply allowing the crowds to intercept them and shoving them back through the force on the rare occasion that they got close.

The gale winds and arcing lightning were soon joined by torrents of rain. The precipitation started out strongly before waning a bit, then varying its downpour. Out of curiosity, Raezyr looked back to the fire in the garden, only to see that its heat was more than sustaining it.

They continued on only to find that a group was already outside the hut fighting. They came to a halt just short of the mass of monks, which seemed to be yelling and arguing for the moment, rather than being violent as nearly every other pocket of activity. With the wind and other elements still gaining momentum, it was hard to make out specific sights or sounds from the ordeal.

"They head us off?" Trychon asked Raezyr.

Raezyr responded only by moving forward again until they were close enough to get a better feel for what was going on. A few heads turned their way, and they even seemed enraged at the arrival of the Sith, but unwilling at the time to confront them directly. Raezyr nudged Trychon when he recognized one of them as Baldemar's buddy. Trychon nodded, and they stepped to the edge of the crowd, with feelings of anticipation building.

"He's my SON! I'll be handing nobody over!" They could finally make out Mathias at the entryway to the hut, wielding a large sledge hammer similar to the one Raezyr had used. Violet was standing behind him with a very concerned look on her face, but with her arms crossed resolutely.

A voice in the crowd yelled back. "His rubbish is tearing this town apart! Look what he's done!" There were several agreements from all around.

Violet had clearly heard enough. "We're all responsible! Can't you see how the madness has spread?! Look at yourselves! Calling for the head of a BOY! What has happened to everyone?!"

The mob began to move forward, all yelling their own arguments at the same time. Mathias attempted to push them back with the handle of his hammer. He felt himself being pushed backward instead, and he took a step back to create enough room to start swinging the makeshift weapon. He was as untrained as the rest of the monks when it came to martial skills, but his knowledge of the hammer was evident immediately as he fell three of the aggressors in as many swings. The advancement slowed then stopped.

Baldemar came running out from the trees. "Guys, stop! I'm ok! I'm here!" The crowd backed up and allowed Baldemar through. He was about to say something to his father, but was greeted only with a look and a gesture to go inside. He nodded and complied.

The mob seemed momentarily unsure of what to do next, and the air was filled with mixed grumbling. Mathias continued to stare them down, and they seemed prepared to disperse when Violet's shriek pierced the air. Everyone outside the hut was silenced, and then the sound of Mannix and Baldemar yelling became prevalent. Baldemar fell out of the entryway and Mannix jumped on him instantly, with his hands wrapped as tightly as he could manage around his brother's throat.

Violet was crying and pleading for her sons to stop as she pried Mannix off from Baldemar. Baldemar coughed a few times as he got to his feet, before launching himself at Mannix, and tackling him out of their mother's arms and out of the view of the crowd and the two Sith.

That seemed to be enough to break the shock of the crowd, who quickly moved on Mathias again, who was quick to bludgeon them in defense of his family. The worry on his face was evident though as the sounds of violence continued behind him as well, along with the crying of his wife.

As handy as he was with the metalworking tool, the crowd was becoming too much for him, and Raezyr and Trychon ignited their weapons. Using the Force simultaneously to split a lane in the mob, they began to cut down the size of the attacking monks. Screams of pain, confusion and fear emanated from the group as their numbers quickly dwindled.

"ENOUGH!" Mathias yelled, seemingly both at his children as well as the Sith. Trychon and Raezyr shoved outward with the force, knocking all of Baldemar's friends off their feet and several feet back.

"Leave now." Raezyr said just loud enough to be heard, his voice Force augmented over the wind. The few survivors scrambled to their feet and ran.

Mathias nodded to Trychon and Raezyr in thanks, breathing heavily and wiping sweat and blood from the scratches on his face. They turned and walked into the hut, to see Mannix lying on his back, clearly on the losing side of his battle with one eye already swollen shut and blood pouring from his nose and lips.

Mathias dropped his hammer. "Baldemar!"

Baldemar struck Mannix one final time on the cheek, opening another wound. Then he got to his feet and slowly backed up to his bunk. He collapsed onto it, sitting down with his shoulders slumped and his eyes wide. "I'm...." He paused, staring at his hands, which were covered in dirt and blood. "I'm sorry." He looked at his father and seemed as though he was going to say something else, but all he managed to do was repeat the phrase again twice.

Violet looked up from the corner she was curled up in. She was still crying heavily, but she was trying to regain control of herself.

Mathias took a step towards his oldest son, but Mannix was to his feet in a flash. He rushed towards Baldemar. As he did, lightning continued to flash outside and there was a shining glint from his hand. His hand reached Baldemar's side in an instant as Mannix shot across the room. He pulled his hand back to reveal a growing crimson blotch on the torn robes of his brother. He struck again on the same side, pulling back again and pausing long enough for the knife in his hand to be visible, dripping with blood.

Baldemar sat motionless, with his mouth wide open, yet unable to even whimper. Mannix lashed out again, this time planting the knife firmly in the center of Baldemar's chest and releasing it there. Baldemar finally managed to utter one last time "I'm.... Sorry..."

Mannix let his fist fly, punching his dying brother in the face. It was clearly a pointless gesture, but Mannix clearly didn't feel so.

"SHUT UP!" He yelled. Behind him, Mathias fell to his knees in grief, while Violet rushed to hold Baldemar. She grabbed his lifeless body and clutched his head to her chest.

Trychon grabbed Mannix by the shoulders and led him past his father to the door. There was no more crowd outside. Trychon whispered in his ear. "Run to the forest and stay there. You want no more part of this tonight. You did what you had to. Go."

Trychon knew that Mannix wanted to argue the point. To him, this was an important night in the history of his people. He lacked the energy to do so though, instead he turned towards the forest and walked slowly off. Trychon heard him mutter as he went. "No, Baldemar... now you're sorry."

August 07, 2009

494. Manipulation of Emotion - Raezyr


Father Monahan and the other council members tried in vain to implore the monks to stop their fighting, but most either couldn't hear due to the howling wind, or were too angry to care.

Inevitably, tools and other objects became weapons. Whatever people could get their hands on: walking sticks, shovels, pitchforks, axes, rocks and knives.

Raezyr and Trychon stood watching the madness. Baldemar was able to slip away from the people attacking him and ran, stopping to pick up a medium sized rock and launch it at his pursuers. One monk ducked, but it struck the man behind him in the face, dropping him.

They watched as two of the council members tried to physically separate a group of brawlers, and one ended up catching a shovel to the temple for his troubles, and the monks turned on the other. He disappeared beneath the small crowd as they pulled him down.

"Now's our chance to call Huck," Trychon shouted to his brother over the noise of the wind. Raezyr nodded in agreement.

They tried to slip away toward the temple when they were rushed by two monks. Raezyr grabbed a sledge hammer leaning against a hut and swung. He felt the skull crush beneath the blow as it connected with the first one, and blood splattered across Raezyr's robes, driven by the wind.

A few steps behind the first Taxl, the second came to a halt and tried to change course, but Raezyr swung the heavy sledge again, catching him in the mid section. The monk dropped and began writhing on the ground, coughing blood and moaning from the internal injuries.

The Sith then made a hasty retreat for the temple and the monk's ancient communications room. They made it there quickly, and Trychon slid into the seat at the controls. It took a few moments for the old components to warm up, but finally it crackled to life.

"Monk's Star to the Twilight Stalker. Huck, when you get this, fire up the Razor and get your metal butt down here. We'll be ready by then," Trychon said, then shut the system off. He looked over at Raezyr who was had stepped out onto the balcony.

He walked over and stood next to the other Sith, their robes whipping in the wind and looked down onto the village below. The clouds were black as night and lighting struck all around, and the thunderous peals told them just how close the strikes were.

Together they surveyed the scene below. Everywhere they looked, monk fought monk. Brother against brother against friend against neighbor, and the wounded and dying lay about the small monastery.

"Let's get back to the house. I want to get rid of these ridiculous robes and get back into my armor," Raezyr said.

Trychon only nodded his concurrence.

Just before they turned away, a massive bolt of lightning struck a tall tree in the Temple garden. It split and burst into flames which quickly began spreading through the rest of the garden.

August 03, 2009

493. Manipulation of Emotion - Raezyr

The trek back to the monastery took less time than expected. Instead of following the course of the river and taking time to search, they were able to cut the distance by going nearly straight back.

Other search teams were also late in returning, refusing to give up without any results, but still Raezyr and Abbot were the last ones back. There was discussion about sending a few other teams back out again, but most were giving up hope of finding the apprentice healer.

Many monks were gathered in the staging area outside the temple, and hush fell over the group as they noticed the two along with the bundle which Raezyr carried in his arms.

Black storm clouds billowed over head as the people parted quietly for Raezyr as he slowly walked to the center of the small crowd. His muscles were aching from carrying Saffron's body the whole way, and at times he had been tempted to sling her over his shoulder, but after Abbot had told him about the prophecy, he knew that he had no other choice but to carry her, still cradled in his arms.

Trychon moved up beside his brother from the back of the crowd as Raezyr laid the body down gently on the stone table in the center of the Gathering area, and Monahan reverently pulled back the edge of the blanket, verifying that it was indeed Saffron. He closed his eyes and turned his head as he carefully replaced the blanket.

"Prepare a funeral pyre," he turned and said to the Council members present, and all about, monks began to cry, and a few muffled words of prayers could be heard as the villagers consoled one another at the confirmation of their worst fears.

"I'm sorry, Father Monahan," Raezyr spoke, loud enough so those around could hear. "I'm no physician, but it appeared to me that she had a wound on her head. I can only surmise she must have somehow hit her head, then fallen into the river, unconscious."'

"We will have Brother Odilo examine her and see what he thinks, but I believe you are right," the leader of the monks said.

"No!" a voice shouted from the crowd.

Everyone turned in shock to see who had spoken, as Mannix pushed his way forward. "She would never have been so careless!" the young man said vehemently. "There are dozens who hated what she had to say. Someone silenced her."

He turned to face the shocked crowd. "Listen to me, Taxl monks! Trychon and Raezyr are the Ones foretold of in the prophecies!

"Time after time, they continue to fulfill them, and yet there are still doubters among you! How can you ignore the wisdom and foresight of our ancestors, when the proof is right before your eyes!" Mannix shouted, and voices of agreement began to rise among some in the crowd.

Mannix turned to the Sith brothers. "Trychon, Raezyr, do you finally believe?"

"No, Mannix, we're just ordinary men," Raezyr said, maintaining their stance of being neutral.

Just then, Trychon felt and slight nudge through the Force, and recognizing the time was right, he put his hand on Raezyr's shoulder. "No, brother. Can't you see? Mannix has been right all along. One, or both of us must be the One."

Raezyr, having felt the same nudge, hid a smile, knowing that this must be the moment.

"Blasphemy!" came another voice, and Baldemar stepped forward, shaking his fist in the air. "They are OUTSIDERS! Outsiders who constantly break our laws, and taunt our beliefs! It's blasphemy to proclaim such lies, and you tarnish the memories of our forefathers by spewing such rubbish!

"The Force will punish you blasphemers, just as it has punished Saffron!" Baldemar yelled.

It was too much for many in the crowd, with the pain of Saffron's death still fresh.

"Murderer!" Mannix screamed, as he and dozens of monks lunged toward Baldemar, their hands tearing at him from all sides. Fighting broke out throughout the crowd, and quickly spread throughout the village.

At that moment, lightning lanced down from the black, roiling clouds above and struck the temple with a deafening peal of thunder, and a howling wind tore through the monastery.

August 01, 2009

492. Manipulation of Emotion - Raezyr

The next day, Mathias woke both Trychon and Raezyr early.

"What's going on?" Raezyr asked, sitting up and speaking what was on both of the Sith's minds. They looked around and noticed Violet packing food into sacks, and both Baldemar and Mannix putting the food and other items into back packs.

Not a word had passed between the two the night before, although the tension was so thick it could be cut with an axe. It was clear the neither Mathias nor Violet knew what to do about yesterday's altercation, as neither had addressed it.

"Word came a little while ago. Saffron never returned last night, and the entire village is organizing a search for her," Mathias explained. "Where ever she is, she's in trouble and is going to need help."

Trychon and Raezyr both sprung into action, helping where they could, and getting themselves ready.

They each shouldered a pack and headed out. Mathias had been right, everyone in the village was gathering in the clearing outside the temple. Father Monahan gave a brief speech about what they knew so far, which was nothing more than what everyone already knew. Saffron had left yesterday morning to look for Raezyr and Trychon. She had failed to make contact with them, and hadn't been seen since she left.

The Villagers were sent out in groups of two to five people, depending on the area and direction they were sent. The search seemed to be concentrated in the direction she had left the village in, but a few teams were sent in other directions.

Raezyr and a monk named Abbot who familiar with the river were sent down stream, while Trychon went with a group of four other monks into a valley in the mountains.

Raezyr didn't know much about Abbot, other than he was one of the fishermen in the village, and that he was also a strong supporter of Raezyr as being the one prophesied about.

As the two were about to leave, Brother Varth stopped them. "Good luck, you two."

They both thanked the scholarly monk, but Raezyr couldn't help but wonder if that were a subtle sign of some sort, eventually deciding that it was, but the meaning was escaping him. Figuring things out was more Trychon's bag, where action was what Raezyr felt he was best at.

All day the two searched the river banks, calling Saffron's name, with no luck. Soon they broke an hour late for the midday meal.

"Suppose we should head back?" Abbot asked. "It'll be getting late by the time we can get back, since we've been going downhill all day.

"No. We'll keep going. I just have a bad feeling about all of this," Raezyr said.

"But they said we should be back by dark," the fisherman said.

"I know, but you'll have to trust me, Abbot. I feel the Force nudging us onward," Raezyr lied. He was beginning to suspect that Varth's comment meant he was supposed to bring Saffron back.

They pushed on through the afternoon and into the evening, only pausing to eat the last of their food when it became too dark to see. They built a small fire for the night and pulled their blankets out of their packs.

"We should head back in the morning, Raezyr," Abbot said as they were drifting off to sleep.

"You can head back if you wish, but I'm going to search until noon at least," Raezyr responded. They were already many kilometers below the monastery, and Abbot was no longer very familiar with the terrain and river this far down river.

"No, I'll stay with you as long as you're out here. I trust you," Abbot commented.

The next morning, Abbot caught a couple of fish, which they ate after cooking it over the fire, before heading out again on their search.

An hour and two kilometers later, their diligence was rewarded. They found Saffron's body washed up on the shore of the river bank.

They pulled her ashore, and wrapped her in one of their blankets. Abbot offered to help carry her, but Raezyr declined, lifted her up, cradled in his arms and began the long trek back to the village.

A short time later, Abbot spoke up. "Now it makes sense!"

"What makes sense?" Raezyr inquired.

"The passage that Brother Varth showed me a few months ago: She who restores shall be swathed and cradled, the One bringing her home for her final sleep."

491. Flight of the Decoy - Trychon

Kal led them to his airspeeder off to the side of the landing. There was a man of large build waiting there, leaning on the front bumper. As they approached, the man unceremoniously got into the driver's seat and waited for the rest of the group to get inside after loading their bags in the rear.

Their trip was a rather short one to a small building in what appeared to be a remote commercial district. Nobody spoke along the way. Tyrrazapon took in the sights, bringing back memories of some of his earlier adventures in this very city. He recognized the area, but it wasn't where Kal's outfit used to operate out of and it seemed to be a bit of an upgrade. He saw the sign out front of the building they were about to land on, and wondered if Van-Dohr shipping was as legitimate as the sign out front made it appear. He decided that it was more likely all an act.

Anya watched their surroundings with a bit of awe. She'd never been in a city like this one, and she wondered to herself if they would have any time to look around. She doubted it, but couldn't help but hope.

Kal watched the two of them and allowed them their thoughts. It had been some time since he'd heard from Tyrrazapon, and given the circumstances certainly couldn't pass up the opportunity to catch up with him. Still, he caught himself looking at his old friend's new companion a bit more. She didn't notice his gaze, which suited him fine even if he somewhat hoped she would.

They all exited the vehicle, and Kal grabbed Anya's bag after handing Tyrrazapon's to the driver. He gestured towards the stairs and led them into the building. It was rather plain in general, but with enough room for any decent size operation to work out of.

"So you're doing pretty well for yourself, aren't you Kal?" Tyrrazapon opened the conversation.

"I do alright, though to be honest it hasn't been so easy lately. Republic's tightening their grip every year out here. Still, we manage." He flashed a grin at Anya. "So what have you been up to since you dropped in last? Ever call that girl back? Kingsdoom?"

Tyrrazapon paused. "No. Hope she's alright. I wonder sometimes if she's mad at me. Anya and I have been mainly shifting around, trying to stay out of everyone's way. Look for a bit of work here and there, but you're the first of the old group I've run across. It's good to see you."

Kal and the driver stopped and set down the luggage outside a couple of doors that must have been sleeping quarters. "Here we are. I'd love to finish catching up and getting to know your friend, Tyr... but it's very early morning for us here, and I need to be ready to get business done before too long. There's food in the cafeteria down the hall if you feel like cooking something up. If you need anything else, ask in the morning." He smiled before shaking hands with both Anya and Tyrrazapon and heading off to his own room.

The two Sith apprentices grabbed their things and situated themselves. Their rooms were decent enough sized, with a pull away wall between them. After opening the wall up, Tyrrazapon decided it was just enough room for them to have a quick duel to stretch out a bit before grabbing a bite and then resting.

The practice duel was going as it normally did for them. Tyrrazapon held a slight advantage but held himself back from pushing Anya too hard, preferring to keep it as a fairly close match. Occasionally, he couldn't keep himself from giving her little Force nudges when she left a gap open that he chose not to exploit. He smiled a little each time, and Anya growled in response. She still struggled to manage more than the tiniest bit of telekinesis with her abilities, and Tyrrazapon knew it was a sore spot. He never pushed her much through the Force, since she struggled just as much with Force defenses.

Her frustration began to show more and more, until Tyrrazapon decided that he was getting hungry and was about ready to finish up by landing or nearly landing what would normally be a fatal hit. He gave her a strong Force jab in her ribs, and she bent to the side in response.

He was about to bring his blade down on the side of her neck when a lamp went flying from behind Anya and headed straight for his head. He jerked himself out of the way, losing his balance and turning halfway around. As he quickly recovered, he got his footing back and spun back to get a defensive posture ready, only to find himself staring right into Anya's practice blade.

He powered his own saber down and laughed. "Your illusions are better constructed and more clever every time! I couldn't help but react to that one."

Anya smiled and put her saber up, grabbing her real weapon and placing it on her belt. "Wanna trade? You can fool people, and I'll actually do things instead?"

Tyrrazapon laughed again. "Well, I don't think I'll take the trade. You can't look at it like that though. As much as we've been training, I look forward to our first fight with Raezyr. I think I have a better shot at taking him now.... but I'm positive you'll catch him off guard and take advantage. I knew what you could do, and still couldn't help but overreact."

Anya smiled at him again before sighing and heading down the hall. It wasn't long before they'd forgotten their duel and were enjoying a quick meal of some breaded meat and some oozing eggs.

490. Manipulation of Emotion - Raezyr

Raezyr and Trychon watched as Mannix spun around and lunged at Baldemar, his face contorted into a mask of rage. Mannix' shoulder struck his older brother in the midsection and drove him to the ground.

Baldemar tossed Mannix aside, and they both scrambled to their knees. Mannix tried another lunge, but Baldemar was ready for it this time and caught the younger monk on the side of the head with a closed fist. It might have done some real damage if the hay-maker had been thrown by someone with more fighting experience, but as it was, the awkward punch did little more than throw Mannix' lunge off.

The two grappled, and the older monk twisted his little brother to the ground, got astride and began raining blows down on top of Mannix.

Shocked into inactivity, the crowd stood, just watching the spectacle before them. It was clear that no one had any idea what to do about it. Raezyr suspected it had been a long time since any of them had seen a real fight.

Seeing as the fight was already won, Raezyr and Trychon jogged over and, grabbing Baldemar by his arms, pulled him off his younger brother.

"Alright, that's enough. I don't think your parents would appreciate this, to say nothing of Father Monahan or the Council," Trychon admonished. He helped Mannix up off the ground and, taking him by the arm, started trying to pull him away from the crowd.

Mannix jerked his arm out of Trychon's grasp and spun around, his face still masked in anger. "I hate you, Baldemar!" he snarled, tears streaming down his bloody face. "I wish it was you who was missing!!"

The crowed inhaled collectively at Mannix statement, shocked at the vileness with which it had been uttered. Trychon grabbed his arm again and pulled him away more forcefully this time and Mannix let himself be lead away.

Raezyr put his hand on Baldemar's shoulder and looked him in the face. "Don't worry about this. You did what you had to do," he whispered before turning and hurrying to catch up with Trychon and Mannix.

Baldemar stormed off, followed by his friend, Gall and the rest of the crowd hurriedly dissipated.

Raezyr caught up to the other two in time to hear Trychon console Mannix, "No, you absolutely did the right thing. It was time your brother learned not to mess with you. He may have gotten the upper hand this time, but he'll be leery of provoking you next time."

"But you need to learn how to control your anger, make it work for you," Raezyr added. "You let it blind you and take control, and that's how he beat you. If you want, Trych and I can show you sometime."

Mannix looked at the two Sith apprentices with awe and thankfulness. "More than anything else, I want to learn everything you can teach me."

"Excellent," Trychon said, smiling at the youth and clapping him on the shoulder. "We can teach you how to defend yourself, as well."

"You know, this incident has gotten me thinking... " Raezyr said, changing the subject. "If Baldemar and his cohorts are brave enough to start something this violent with witnesses around, what would happen if they came across someone as devoted to their beliefs as you are, alone out in the woods?"

Mannix didn't respond, but his face soured, and Trychon and Raezyr knew the young monk's thoughts had instantly turned to Saffron and her disappearance.