Mathias finished the introductions to his wife, Violet, and their older son, Baldemar, before they all sat down for supper. Mathias led them all in a short prayer before the meal. When he had finished, he looked at the guests. "Well, friends, not to pry into your lives, but maybe you can tell us a little bit about yourselves. I don't want to be rude, but young Mannix was a bit eager in offering our home, although Violet and I were thinking of volunteering anyway," the big man quickly added.
Trychon and Raezyr looked at each other for a moment, before Raezyr quickly stuffed a bite of food into his mouth. Trychon rolled his eyes. "Well, there's not a whole lot to tell, that Raezyr hasn't told Father Monahan and Saffron already. Raezyr was trained by a Jedi in their ways, but became disillusioned with their duality. He found their instructions on the Force useful, but their practices did not coincide with their proclamations of peace and harmony and left their order. He sought me out, and taught me what he had learned of the Force. Since then, we've been searching the Galaxy for a place where we fit in.
"Now let me ask you about yourselves. We know that everybody here has their own jobs, and Father Monahan said tomorrow he will see about assigning us places to earn our keep. What is it that you folks do?" Trychon asked.
Mathias set down his spoon and rested his huge forearms on the table. "I am the blacksmith for the village. I take the metals that are mined nearby and forge it into useful tools. I also repair metals that have been broken. My wife is the herbalist here in town. She grows the herbs that are used to make our medicines and other remedies. In fact, you were probably given some. The purple tea is of her own creation, and it's pain relieving and healing properties have helped many in the village.
"Baldemar here, is one of the gardeners. He helps groom the Temple garden, and even helps Violet in his spare time. Mannix has yet to be given his trade. He's still a few years off from his ceremony, so he does what many of the young people in the village do, who don't have trades, and helps work the fields or other tasks that various tradesfolk need help with. That way he learns a little of many different trades, and the elders can see what he may be best at. Most recently, Brother Varth has been requesting his help in the library," Mathias explained.
Trychon had successfully deflected the topic away from their past, and the conversation turned toward daily life around the monastery. When supper was over, and the dishes were cleared, Mathias broke out several pewter tankards, and filled them at a barrel in the kitchen area, then set down again, putting a mug in front of each person.
Raezyr and Trychon sniffed at the frothy beverage, then eagerly chugged a large portion. It was easily the best ale they had ever tasted. "This is excellent. It's a pity..." Raezyr said, trailing off before he could finish the sentence. He had been thinking it would be a shame that the galaxy would never know of this once they finished their mission here. Trychon glared at his younger brother, knowing what he was thinking.
"A pity?" Mathias questioned.
"Um... yeah... it's a pity... that we've never tasted this before. Trych and I consider ourselves to be 'ale connoisseurs' of a sort," Raezyr said, recovering.
The next morning, they woke early to the sounds of Sister Violet getting breakfast ready. The strange birds were already singing outside despite the fact the sun hadn't risen yet. Raezyr and Trychon went outside to wash up. The water in the basin was cold, but refreshing, and they felt much better afterward.
After a hearty breakfast, Mannix quietly handed them each a short metal blade, explaining that the jungle undergrowth could be quite thick, and they'd need those to hack the plants out of the way, before they left. It was the first he had really spoken to them since their arrival.
The sun was just peaking over the mountains looming over the wide valley as they reached the outskirts of the village, and Trychon broke the silence. "So, Mannix. Everyone has told us how eager you've been to see us, yet you've been pretty quiet since we left Odilo's. Why's that?" he asked bluntly.
The young man scratched the tip of his pointy ears, thinking for a moment before he answered. "I... I don't know. I guess I just didn't know what to say."
"Sure you do," Raezyr prompted. "You just lack the confidence to do so. Tell me why that is."
"Well, it's my brother and his friends... everyone really. They've done nothing but make fun of me," he said sullenly. "I guess I just figure you guys will too."
"Why would we make fun of you?" Trychon asked. "As far as we're concerned, your opinions are just as valid as those of anyone else. It's not right to put someone down for their beliefs. It's my experience that those who chose to do so are small minded."
Raezyr thought for a minute about their suspicions that Varth was actually Darth Vikon, and how he had been requesting Mannix to work for him. He decided to take a bit of a chance. "Besides, someone destined to work in the library would have to be a scholar. How does a gardener's opinions matter more than a scholars?" Raezyr asked rhetorically.
Mannix thought about what they said, and it seemed to make sense. Brother Varth had said that he wanted to take Mannix as his apprentice. That had to count for something. Suddenly he stopped hacking at underbrush and turned around. "I think one of you must be the One foretold in the prophecy. Too many things fit to be coincidence. Before anyone saw your eyes, Mr. Trychon, everyone laughed at me. Now some are starting to believe. Brother Varth believes me. He told me so. I guess I just have so many things I want to ask you both."
"Well, I think I can speak for both of us, when I say that we don't really think that either of us is the one spoken of in your prophecy," Trychon said quickly. "You can understand that, I'm sure. But no one should keep you from speaking your mind and sharing your thoughts. We're just regular guys, nothing special about us. With that, though, we'd be happy to answer any questions you have," Trychon added.
The next couple of hours, the two Sith answered questions for the youth as best they could, without giving away their true nature, although they did slip in the random Sith teaching when they could do so unobtrusively, and Mannix seemed very receptive to everything they said.
Finally they entered the scorched and blackened area where the shuttle had crashed. Not much remained that told what the blackened heap of twisted wreckage had once been. Trychon moved forward anyway, toward the open hatch and crawled inside. Trychon looked at the carnage inside the craft for a moment, not believing that anyone could have survived, before searching frantically for his data pad.
Raezyr had been closer, but moved out of the way, as he knew his brother was worried about his data pad. He had told Mannix to wait outside before he entered. When he got to the cockpit, he saw Trychon on his knees, digging through masses of wires and conduits. Finally he found what he was searching for and held up the small device.
"Oh, damn!," he yelled, looking at the blob of melted plastic and metal. "Damn, Damn, Damn!" Trychon threw the ruined data pad into the wall and started pounding his fist against the floor, screaming explicatives in languages that Raezyr had no idea Trychon even knew.
"I take it this is bad," Raezyr said flatly.
"You got that right, Captain Obvious," Trychon snarled. He sat back on his knees on the floor for a moment, breathing heavily. Suddenly a thought occurred to him and he lunged across the cockpit and opened a small compartment next to the co-pilot's chair. Looking inside, he breathed a sigh of relief. All of his data chips were still in tact.
He pulled them out and stuffed them in a pocket. "Thank the Ancient Sith Lords for backups!" he said, wiping the beads of sweat from his brow. He still wasn't happy. A lot of data and programs had been lost, but at least he still had the most important ones.
Raezyr stepped back outside and looked at Mannix. The youth's jaw was open so wide it nearly touched the ground.
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