Two days later, Raezyr was taking his turn in the med-bay, watching the limp, unconscious form of the former Taxl monk bobbing up and down in the small tank of the mircle element, the substance which accelerated the natural self-repairing capability of most known species to a supernatural speed. Wounds and illnesses which might be fatal at worst, take years to recover from at best, could be cured in a matter of days or weeks, depending on the severity.
Mannix would always have scars, sure but the bacta treatment he was undergoing would ensure that the scars would have minimum pain. Bacta couldn't restore the lost flesh and nerves. It wasn't capable of regenerating lost limbs. It couldn't make the young man's body recover beyond it's natural capabilities. For all it's so-called 'magic,' Mannix would still have months of rehab to undergo even after the bacta.
The big Sith was drawn into a trance-like state with the thrum of the ship's hyperdrive, the hum of the medical apparatus, and the soft bubbling of the bacta tank when another noise caught his attention. The comm panel light was blinking.
"Go ahead, Reed," Raezyr said after hitting the push-to-talk button. When in hyper-space, it was standard practice to keep time by the Galactic Standard, which was set by whatever time it was on Coruscant. At this time of night, Raezyr knew the only two people who would be awake on the ship were Reed who was the pilot on duty and himself, and the habit of using the Force told him there were no others awake.
"Master, we just received an incoming message for you and Master Trychon," the voice informed him. "It's encrypted, so I can't open it, but the data packet is extremely large. My guess is that it's a holo-recording."
"Send it to the comm-center holo projector, then wake Lord Trychon. Inform him I'll be there momentarily, if he'd like to join me," Raezyr said. He didn't wait for Reed to reply, but instead switched the comm off.
He could only think of one person who would have the luxury or extravagance to send an encrypted holo-recording.
-------------
Trychon entered the comm center, still pulling his tunic on, his eyes bleak and red from restless sleep. Despite the fact they were relatively in the clear after assassinating Sootoo the Hutt, no one had been able to rest. Not with Mannix in his condition and the uncertainty of what to do with him in a long-term sense.
"Is it him?" Trychon asked his younger sibling. Neither needed to speak the name.
Raezyr handed a mug of caf to his half-brother. "It's his encryption, but the data is so degraded that I'm having a hard time getting it to que up on the projector."
"Let me take a look." Trychon sat down in the seat the bigger Sith vacated and began working on the problem. It took several minutes, but he finally spoke again. "Got it. Well, the important part of it, I hope. I had to cut the visual, so it's audio only, and it'll be fuzzy at that. Let's just hope there's nothing Master Eiron wanted to show us."
It seemed like ages since they had heard from their dark Master. They hadn't seen him in person since they had fled from the Academy on the Sith homeworld of Korriban with the Jedi and the Republic in pursuit, looking for revenge for what had since been dubbed the "Massacre on Curuscant" by the news media groups.
In fact, they had gotten so little instruction from him that they considered him to be their Master in title only. Most of the teaching they received had been from Sith Holocrons and ancient tomes pilfered from the Academy on Korriban and the ancient Sith base on the fog-enshrouded planet of THX1138.
Trychon cued up the transmission and hit play. Lord Eiron's voice issued from the speakers, heavily covered in static. It was still so bad they had to play it back several times, often arguing over certain sections. When they had finally finished interpreting the message, they could only hope they got everything correct.
Essentially, their Sith Master had given them another mission. They were to travel to an ancient Sith world named Meisos with all due haste. The natives there were apparently warriors and naturally Force sensitive, but the real treasures were kept by their leaders. Some sort of important crystals that were uniquely attuned to the Force. Naturally, they were both reminded of the mission that brought them to Mannix.
The two brothers sat sipping caf in silence, taking in the new information and each trying to piece it into their current situation.
"You know what we have to do, Raez," said Trychon eventually.
"Yeah. It's not the best plan, but it's not like we have another option," the younger brother replied. "Di's gonna be mad," he added.
"She's your special lady friend," Trychon stated flatly.
"I know."
The older Sith suddenly grinned.
Mannix would always have scars, sure but the bacta treatment he was undergoing would ensure that the scars would have minimum pain. Bacta couldn't restore the lost flesh and nerves. It wasn't capable of regenerating lost limbs. It couldn't make the young man's body recover beyond it's natural capabilities. For all it's so-called 'magic,' Mannix would still have months of rehab to undergo even after the bacta.
The big Sith was drawn into a trance-like state with the thrum of the ship's hyperdrive, the hum of the medical apparatus, and the soft bubbling of the bacta tank when another noise caught his attention. The comm panel light was blinking.
"Go ahead, Reed," Raezyr said after hitting the push-to-talk button. When in hyper-space, it was standard practice to keep time by the Galactic Standard, which was set by whatever time it was on Coruscant. At this time of night, Raezyr knew the only two people who would be awake on the ship were Reed who was the pilot on duty and himself, and the habit of using the Force told him there were no others awake.
"Master, we just received an incoming message for you and Master Trychon," the voice informed him. "It's encrypted, so I can't open it, but the data packet is extremely large. My guess is that it's a holo-recording."
"Send it to the comm-center holo projector, then wake Lord Trychon. Inform him I'll be there momentarily, if he'd like to join me," Raezyr said. He didn't wait for Reed to reply, but instead switched the comm off.
He could only think of one person who would have the luxury or extravagance to send an encrypted holo-recording.
-------------
Trychon entered the comm center, still pulling his tunic on, his eyes bleak and red from restless sleep. Despite the fact they were relatively in the clear after assassinating Sootoo the Hutt, no one had been able to rest. Not with Mannix in his condition and the uncertainty of what to do with him in a long-term sense.
"Is it him?" Trychon asked his younger sibling. Neither needed to speak the name.
Raezyr handed a mug of caf to his half-brother. "It's his encryption, but the data is so degraded that I'm having a hard time getting it to que up on the projector."
"Let me take a look." Trychon sat down in the seat the bigger Sith vacated and began working on the problem. It took several minutes, but he finally spoke again. "Got it. Well, the important part of it, I hope. I had to cut the visual, so it's audio only, and it'll be fuzzy at that. Let's just hope there's nothing Master Eiron wanted to show us."
It seemed like ages since they had heard from their dark Master. They hadn't seen him in person since they had fled from the Academy on the Sith homeworld of Korriban with the Jedi and the Republic in pursuit, looking for revenge for what had since been dubbed the "Massacre on Curuscant" by the news media groups.
In fact, they had gotten so little instruction from him that they considered him to be their Master in title only. Most of the teaching they received had been from Sith Holocrons and ancient tomes pilfered from the Academy on Korriban and the ancient Sith base on the fog-enshrouded planet of THX1138.
Trychon cued up the transmission and hit play. Lord Eiron's voice issued from the speakers, heavily covered in static. It was still so bad they had to play it back several times, often arguing over certain sections. When they had finally finished interpreting the message, they could only hope they got everything correct.
Essentially, their Sith Master had given them another mission. They were to travel to an ancient Sith world named Meisos with all due haste. The natives there were apparently warriors and naturally Force sensitive, but the real treasures were kept by their leaders. Some sort of important crystals that were uniquely attuned to the Force. Naturally, they were both reminded of the mission that brought them to Mannix.
The two brothers sat sipping caf in silence, taking in the new information and each trying to piece it into their current situation.
"You know what we have to do, Raez," said Trychon eventually.
"Yeah. It's not the best plan, but it's not like we have another option," the younger brother replied. "Di's gonna be mad," he added.
"She's your special lady friend," Trychon stated flatly.
"I know."
The older Sith suddenly grinned.
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