Raezyr limped up behind Trchon and put his hand on his shoulder. "I was really struggling as to whether or not we made the right decision in letting these two live. Now we know better," he said as they both watched the informant die, the blackened flesh of his neck popping and hissing as Trychon held the point in his throat for what seemed like hours.
"Remeber what it feels like to offer mercy and trust, and be betrayed. Use it. I know that I will."
Trychon finally withdrew his lightsaber and they both looked up and around as if seeing the area for the first time.
People had filed out of the Outlander and other buildings around to watch the commotion, apparently unafraid of being hurt themselves.
Raezyr spoke under his breath, "C'mon Trych. Let's get out....... Wait! That guy right there in the black cloak trimmed in orange!" Raezyr had been scanning the crowd as he spoke, doing his best to use the Force to detect more trouble. His internal alarms went wild when he looked at the man.
"I see him," said Trychon, doing his best to get a better look without be overt about it.
"That's gotta be Vikon! I can't believe he's alive! This may be our only chance," he said to Trychon. "Be ready for anything, he may not like this."
I hope he knows what he's doing, thought Trychon.
"You!" Raezyr shouted, pointing his gloved hand at the mysterious individual. The crowd split in two leaving only the black and orange cloaked man. "We would have a word with you!" Raezyr strode forward, black cloak billowing around his black and midnight blue armor. He did his best not to limp and tried to ignore the pain. He reached his right hand down to his utility belt and checked the placement of the hilt of his long saber... just in case things didn't go well...
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