December 27, 2010

632. Taking Out the Trash - Trychon and Raezyr

In the massive confusion that unfolded in the next few moments, Dianna dived and rolled to her left, hoping that Mannix had the foresight to do something similar. Visibility in the room had dropped to roughly a meter and the crowds were in complete pandemonium, searching for a way out of the growing maelstrom of blind blaster bolts.

As some of the combatants regained their senses, several shots hit close to where she'd been. She saw two aliens curled up in a ball at her feet, covered in shrapnel. Some of the charges the Sith used must have been fragment grenades. That could have hit any of them. She decided she'd fume at the brothers later.

First things first, she needed a weapon. The original plan had been for Trychon and Raezyr to drop down from one of the vents and toss her a blaster carbine, but when the ductwork and ceiling gave way, the weapon had either gotten left above or lost in the debris.

Smoke choked the room and Dianna could hear the grating noises as Sootoo's platform receded into what was most likely a safe room where she could monitor the melee in relative safety. That couldn't happen. If Sootoo survived then all of this was for naught. She most likely had relatives among bigger and more powerful Hutt's and an attempt on her life would not and could not go unpunished.

Similarly, an up and coming Hutt makes enemies of those she steps on and worries those above her. Once Sootoo was eliminated, relatives would most likely make a show of trying to catch the perpetrators, but most likely wouldn't worry about it too much after a few weeks.

A figure loomed in the smoke in front of her and she launched a fist straight at it's throat. She felt it's windpipe crumple under the blow and she yanked it's blaster from it's hands as it crumpled to the floor.

All around was smoke with flashes of blaster bolts. Every once in a while the glow from a red or blue or green or black light saber would flash into existence, and bolts from around the room would pour toward it's location, but as quickly as it would appear, it would disappear. Raezyr and Trychon weren't stupid enough to give free targets, and it was clear that Mannix was holding his own.

Dianna pushed herself into action, launching herself across the room towards the grating sound of Sootoo retreating to safety. Two more ghostly silhouettes materialized out of the smoke and she bashed one in the face with the butt of her blaster, then spun around and sunk the muzzle into the abdomen of the other and pulled the trigger. The stench of seared flesh filled her nostrils as she ducked under the reach of the first figure who was now holding his face with one hand and groping blindly with the other.

The pirate queen snatched a second weapon from the person she had shot. It was a carbine, as powerful as a rifle, but cut down to be useful indoors. It's what she preferred when going into combat. She could also rely on the commando hand to hand combat training that Zanz had drilled into her head growing up. She quickly put all thoughts of him out of her mind and continued forward.

Two Gamorreans must have spotted her as she made her crouched run. The first swung it's gigantic battle axe and she dove over it head first. She tucked, rolled, and twisted her body, coming up firing at the two big swine-like warriors turning to attack. Her first shot took one in the throat and the second shot took the other in the chest.

She heard a clang behind her and her heart sunk. Dianna was too late. The door to Sootoo's safe room had closed.

December 24, 2010

631. Taking Out the Trash - Trychon

Dianna and Mannix rode the automatic turbo-lift upward in near silence, mentally preparing for what would come next. She avoided making any faces while she considered the small amount of groveling that would be involved on her part.

Then she noticed that her diminutive companion shuddered.

"What is it?" She asked him.

"Nothing. At least, I think so. I had a... daydream. Imagined myself turning a corner and getting caught in a flamethrower blast. It was very vivid."

"Daydream?" She gasped. "Are you sure it's not some Force thing?"

"Yeah, I've had a few now and my masters insist that even they don't get Force visions. I just have an overactive imagination, I guess. Still adjusting to the galaxy outside my old home, I suppose."

She was about to ask him more questions, but was interrupted by the doors opening. As they opened her heart sank, and she realized that their inside information had been correct. This was a bad day to choose for their mission. She took two steps in, to allow the doors to shut behind her.

The area they were in now was obviously the grand audience chamber for Sootoo, but it was filled from wall to wall with aliens in ways she couldn't have expected. Their source had told them that some event was coming up, but it was unclear what. Dianna sweared under her breath and looked to Mannix, who had followed her out of the turbo-lift and was clutching his case as close as he could now.

"Life-day celebration. I should have known." She sighed, as she looked around wondering how this would affect their plans. With this many aliens crowded in the middle of the area, things could get ugly real quick. She couldn't come up with any decent ideas, so she tried to push the second thoughts out of her mind.

"Trident to Ice-Queen. What's a Life-day celebration?" Trychon's voice came through her mini-com.

"It's a fairly common holiday of sorts especially among aliens. It involves gatherings of family and friends. Clearly there are a lot of people who would like Sootoo to consider them one of the two."

She reminded them to keep the chatter down and began to navigate her way through the crowd, hoping that Mannix would keep close. She had to turn back a number of times to be sure though.

"Ho, Ho, Ho..." As she neared the other side of the chamber, a deep laughter rang out, though not as deep as most hutts she'd dealt with.

What followed was a long rambling of Huttese, which Dianna always wished she'd taken the time to pick up on, given the rumors of bad translators.

The droid standing next to Sootoo spoke when its master was finished. "The honorable madam Sootoo welcomes Ms. Kingsdoom and wishes to thank her for bringing the most welcome of Life-day gifts."

She bowed ever so slightly, enough to give respect, but not enough to take her eyes off the lowly crime-lord. "While we have never dealt directly with your organization, we have always respected Hutt space and have enjoyed good relations. We appreciate the opportunity you have provided us to allow this to continue."

She was hoping that her audience with Sootoo would be more private, so she could try to squeeze out any information that may have let her know if the hutt had been given any inside information by a traitor, rather than figuring it out on her own. With the circumstances though, she was forced to let that hope die.

The droid was beginning to translate for her again when she was distracted by conversation over the comm.

"Trident to Sun Ray. I'm sorry I didn't get you any presents for Life-day..."

"Not now, Trident."

"I have a joke I think would be appropriate though. A naked Correlian blonde walks into a bar with a shaved solarian lizard under one arm, and a two-foot nerf sausage under the other. The bartender says, I guess you won't be needing a drink. The naked lady says..."

Just then Dianna's eyes darted to the right, as there was a crash that could barely be heard over the ruckus in the room, and Trychon and Raezyr came barreling through the ceiling only 3 meters from where she was standing.

The noise died down quickly and Dianna saw looks of confusion around the room as the two Sith got up and dusted themselves off. She prepared herself to react, as it wasn't going to be long before the Hutt ordered them all dead.

Trychon bent over and picked something up off the floor. "Forgot my datapad."

Raezyr looked around the room. "Hey... this isn't where I parked my speeder!"

As Dianna suspected, Sootoo began to bark out commands, and various of her henchmen slowly began to put their hands on their holsters, waiting for further orders.

The translator droid yelled as much as a droid was able. "The honorable Sootoo demands to know the meaning of this betrayal!"

Trychon looked at the droid and then to Dianna. "Well... there goes the element of surprise..."

Then with a slight glance that she'd come to recognize as a short command through their Force connection, the brothers acted simultaneously. They reached into their cloaks and pulled out an assortment of small explosives and what looked like smoke charges.

Tossing them into the air, Raezyr yelled "Surprise, Hutt-face!"





December 16, 2010

630. Taking Out the Trash - Raezyr


The beats pumped inside the night club owned by Sootoo the small-time Hutt crime lord, and were only partially muted by the walls of the building. Dianna was glad she wouldn't have to enter that part of the building. The noise could interfere with being able to hear any of the transmissions sent to tiny earpiece hidden under the skin just behind her ear.

She glanced at the boy Mannix calmly standing by with his dark suit and darkened sun visor obscuring his eyes. She could tell his calmness was on the outside only as the tiny trickle of sweat running down his cheek gave the only evidence to the anxiety that must be overwhelming inside. She knew he'd seen some cities before, but never an ecumenopolis like the Smuggler's Moon. He'd only recently left his home planet where he grew up in a small village, now here he was, standing in one of the worst hives of scum and villainy in the entire galaxy. His calm exterior amazed her and she wasn't sure she'd be nearly as calm if she was in his place. Maybe Raezyr and Trychon's faith in the kid wasn't as misplaced as she thought it may have been.

Dianna approached the male Duros standing guard on the side door and gave him the appropriate pass code, the one Sootoo had given her when she had finally sent word to the Hutt she was on her way to pay her "respects." The blue skinned alien pulled out a scanner and indicated both she and Mannix hold their hands out to the sides.

They complied and the guard ran the scanner a few inches from their bodies. When he reached the small of Dianna's back, an alarm on the scanner sounded and the Duros pulled the vibro-knife from it's sheath at her waistband. He gave her a disapproving look. Dianna smiled, "Hey, you can't expect a girl to go completely unprotected in a place like this, can you?"

Apparently the guard had no sense of humor. Instead of answering he tucked the weapon inside his coat and finished the scan, with no other incidents. "You'll get your weapon back when you leave," he informed her. He looked quizzically at the case Mannix was holding. "What's in the case, kid?"

Mannix opened his mouth to reply, but Dianna was quicker. "It's for Sootoo. A business deal. We'll show it to her only. She's expecting us, and I'm pretty sure you know that."

The blue-skinned alien looked sour. He clearly did indeed know it, but was hoping for a look in the case anyway. He stepped back instead and whispered into what must have been a hidden comlink in his cuff. The door opened for the two guests, then closed behind them again once they had entered.

The area they found themselves in was just a small foyer and a set of turbo-lift doors. There were no controls for the lift, and looking behind her, there were no controls leading outside. Looking up she saw cameras covering every angle in the small room. Clearly whomever was watching on the other side of those cameras had control, and only when they were certain would they open the doors or activate the turbo-lift.

Dianna looked over at Mannix. "Trident, we're inside," she said. Mannix just smiled back, but in Dianna's ear, she heard a response. "I copy you, Ice Queen. Sun Ray and I are working on getting into place, and Striker and Redman are standing-by for the signal. No word from Deep Blue. How is Night Rider holding up?" It was Trychon.

Dianna put her hand on Mannix' shoulder and kept pretending she was talking to him. "Everything is going well so far."

Another voice came across the comm channel, and Dianna recognized it as Raezyr. "I knew I should have been around when you picked out call signs. I mean, 'Sun Ray?' Seriously?"

"Cut the chatter, Sun Ray. Mission essential comm traffic only," Trychon's voice responded. Dianna could envision the ear to ear grin on his face as he said it. She could also picture the sour look on her lover's face and it was all she could do to keep from laughing out loud.

December 10, 2010

629. Taking Out the Trash - Trychon

Dianna Kingsdoom continued down the walkway towards their destination and steeled her nerves. She always got a little nervous and edgy before something like this, but used it to concentrate on what had to get done. She found it ironic that this seemed similar to what Raezyr and Trychon described to her as their source of power.

The boy Mannix walked next to her, carrying an unremarkable box filled with remarkable amounts of untraceable credcards. She couldn't tell how he was dealing with the situation, but she imagined it had to be quite a test for him. Even had he been taller, it was obvious he was young. She had argued against bringing him along, but he and the Sith brothers insisted. He had turned into a fine pilot, and spent a lot of time by himself supposedly practicing combat. Still, it made her nervous, which she supposed would only make her fight that much harder if it came to that.

The boy had wanted to wear a robe similar to the ones that the Sith wore at times, but she told him he couldn't because he would look like a Jawa, and it would bring unnecessary attention. He had pouted for a bit about that, but he knew better than to argue the point. He wanted to come along so badly.

They weren't far away now. It had been necessary to park their ship at the second nearest dock because the nearest one was too close. Sootoo the Hutt would have eyes on every approach to her building. The problem wasn't that they didn't want to be seen as much as it was that they wanted to not appear too quickly, which would only make the Hutt more apprehensive than she already likely was.

A nice calm approach would certainly serve their cause best. Having an agent on the inside certainly couldn't hurt either. Already, the information on the facility had proven invaluable in making a quick plan of attack. In fact, it was a very good plan and she was constantly surprised by Trychon's innovative thinking, though she wouldn't tell him that. The aurodium boost had been ingenious and dangerous, though it had bought them nothing but trouble so far.

Actually, when she thought about it she was just as impressed with Raezyr's additions to the plan. It seemed that the older brother would suggest a general tactic, and then the younger of the two would revise it with specifics of how to approach it and attack. It was yet another interesting dynamic between the two of them.

The only issue that she had with their planning was the complete lack of contingent plans. If anything went wrong in the plan, they were simply going to fly by the seats of their pants. Somehow she wasn't comforted by Trychon's assurance that, 'Hey... that's when we're at our best!' before going on with their singular plan.

As they turned the corner to their target, Dianna nearly jumped when she saw a distracted Mannix bump into a very large human male, who instantly agitated. She put her hand on her friend's shoulder and interposed herself in between him and the burly man in an blink. She stopped her body just short of rubbing up against the man, hoping to distract him. She was glad she'd worn something form-fitting and flattering.

"Please don't mind my page, cutie. He's not accustomed to your big... city." She smiled at him while batting her eyes. "That sure is a large... gun belt you have there..." slowly reaching out to run her fingers over what truly was a very large gun belt.

The man seemed taken aback by the smell of her perfume momentarily, but then he grabbed her by the wrist before she could make a move for one of his guns. He pulled her even closer to his own body, to the point where he could nearly feel her clothes create friction against his own. Then he looked down at her and spoke in a guttural slow tone. "What if I demand more than apology?"

Dianna batted her eyes at him again and then glanced down at his midsection while gesturing that he do the same. She looked back up to see his slow recognition of the vibroblade she held to his torso. The grip on her wrist quickly dissipated while the man stammered some comments that seemed to be a mixture between fear and anger. He was clearly confused and embarrassed by the weapon's sudden materialization.

"I'm sorry hun... but I have a bigger date right now. Why don't you go ahead and move along and forget we ever had any sort of run in, mmkay?" She continued to smile while batting her eyes. She didn't look back as Sootoo's building loomed in the distance.

December 09, 2010

628. Taking Out the Trash - Raezyr


The two Gamorreans standing guard at the door to the nightclub had nearly torn each other to shreds before other security guards could pull them apart. Later when they had been patched up and questioned, each claimed the other had started the fight by insulting their Matron. In the confusion which had occurred, nobody noticed the two cloaked figures who slipped inside.

Minutes later, using similar tactics, the cloaked figures slipped into the backroom and to the service turbo lift. Later, the guard at the elevator door would vaguely remember allowing two repairmen go to the basement to service the ventilator system, but he was never able to quite recall what they looked like.

The power droid on the maintenance level detected the presence of two unscheduled organic repair entities and assessed the necessity of relaying the information to the central computer, but the organics were already interfacing with the main computer at a terminal and it came to the conlcusion the information would be redundant and therefore not required. A moment later the lowly GNK power droid received the command authorization to activate the overhead shipment receiving access port and admit two more organics attempting to download cargo to the droid's facility.

It slowly made it's way through the various apparatus found in the bowels of the large building owned by a minor Hutt crime lord. Apparatus that provided environment control and various other function necessary to facilitate the proper functioning of such a large facility.

It extended it's rarely used manipulator arm from the front compartment and interfaced with the door's security controls. It took the security program several moments to recognize the droid as it this was a very rare occurrence. Most often, droid's were prohibited from accessing doors such as this one, but the central computer validated the droid had been given the proper commands and relented to it's request.

The big overhead doors slid upward revealing a large cargo skiff already in place and ready to download it's contents. The GNK droid viewed the process with it's optical receptor, then scanned the equipment as was standard procedure. The droid was attempting to upload the data to the central computer, informing it the shipment of weapons and various explosives had arrived, but the centcom was suddenly having trouble finding a record of the shipment even being ordered. It was about to resend the information when the two organic repair units which had been interfacing with the centcom terminal walked in. They conferred with the two organic delivery units for a moment then one of them opened the cargo storage unit's access panel and removed an object which was then pointed at the droid.

The gonk droid recognized the object. It was an ion blaster designed to override and incapacitate a droid. The droid had suffered an ion blast once long ago and it was not a pleasant incident which was stored in it's data banks. It attempted to plead with the organics, but all they heard was a heavily electronic noise vaguely resembling, "Gonk... gonk..." The droid went unexpectedly off-line.

December 07, 2010

627. Hoth: King's Lair - Trychon

Trychon twirled his backup lightsaber just a few more moments before clipping it to his belt. "So. Um... Nice place you have here. Just moving in?"

Dianna looked at him a little more seriously for a moment before walking past him to grab some records and dump them into one of the nearby containers. "This isn't really a joking matter. The Hutts have us made, and if we don't head out of here they won't be long in trying to get their slimy hands on everything we have."

"You mean they..." Raezyr glared at Trychon. "How could they have found out about the mission? They couldn't have traced it back to you! We never really got our hands on the loot, and the amount we transfered doesn't nearly correspond with the job we pulled. We couldn't have been sold out, nobody could have gained from that, not even Zanz." He spit out the last word with measured hate.

Dianna put her hand on his chestplate. "Calm down, Love. Nobody sold us out, or anything like that. Nobody watches the markets, legal or otherwise, the way the Hutts do. They made an educated guess, and won't take no for an answer anyway." She was prepared to drop the point but could tell that Raezyr was not. She'd pull him aside and talk to him in private if she didn't know that his brother would step in and start pushing the issue either before they made it out of the room or even worse... when he had been left with the crew.

"Listen here, warriors..." She added a small tint of sarcasm just to grab their attention. "I know what you think. We're not just picking up and running away. We don't have a Wookie's chance in a spelling bee of taking out even a small Hutt like this one on Nar Shadaa. Right now, it's a bottomfeeder Hutt with aspirations larger than it's tailend, but if we don't pay her off, she tells some of her established friends."

She looked to the elder Sith to make sure he was listening too. "If we pay them off, we end up slinging grilled gundark patties on some two bit space station, just to make ends meet. Let alone getting back to where we need to be."

She turned back to Raezyr, who had clearly already settled down a bit. "So I've done what a responsible leader does, and made a hard decision that is in the best interest of my organization as well as my people. We're not running. We're relocating until we're forgotten, or in a better position to do something else. There is no other realistic choice."

"Clearly you've thought this through thoroughly, and I apologize for myself and Trych jumping to any conclusions. I'm sorry. Just concerned, that's all." He raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Exactly." Trychon piped in, once again twirling his lightsaber. "You've done what's best. No problem."

Then he grinned. "I really hate moving though..."

November 23, 2010

626. Hoth: King's Lair - Raezyr

Jo had been hired by Zanz just prior to the big mission Dianna Kingsdoom and the King's Men had gone on. He had gotten lucky, and was thrilled with the prospect of becoming a pirate. Jo's father had served with Zanz and died during the Mandalorian Wars. That connection had gotten him here.

In truth, he wasn't much more than a "go-fer" and a maintenance guy. He hadn't been allowed to go on the mission itself. Instead, he had stayed behind to man the base. Not that it had really needed manning. He had basically ensured the thermal engines didn't seize up and freeze the base solid while everyone had been gone.

Now he was busy trying to empty out this storage room. The useful contents needed to be packed into the plasteel crates sitting in the hall while the junk was to be dumped into a bin to be hauled to the incinerator.

Jo looked up from his work just in time to see two dark figures striding purposefully down the corridor. Shoulder to shoulder they strode without slowing or attempting to avoid anyone in their way and they didn't have to. People were pressing up against the walls and nodding their heads in deference.

The one was wearing black fatigues, flat-topped black cap with a bill on the front and heavy black commando style boots. A long metallic cylinder hung from his belt and in his left hand he was absently twirling another, slightly shorter cylinder of a similar style. The man was of average height and build, but his eyes were intelligent. There was something about them that just by looking, you could tell he didn't fail to take in every detail around him.

The other was wearing black and midnight-blue armor with a black cloak attached to his shoulders which billowed behind him as he marched. His matching helm was tucked under one of his arms and he had two of the metallic tubes hanging from his utility belt. He had an ugly scar which ran vertically down the front of his face and he was bigger in size than the man clad in black. He was only a few centimeters taller, but was much broader in the shoulders and even with the armor it was apparent he was well muscled.

Jo knew instantly who these men were. They were the Sith Warriors that everyone had told him about. And they didn't look happy.

Not knowing what else to do, Jo pressed up against the wall, trying his best to get out of their way. He then stood at what he thought resembled the military 'attention' stance and gave a salute.

The two Sith gave no indication they had even noticed. Jo dropped his salute and watched the figures as they continued down the corridor and turned a corner before going back to work. At first he hoped to make a good impression, now he just hoped they had noticed him.

-------------

Trychon punched the code into the panel next to the durasteel control room door and it whooshed open. Dianna and Dek looked up at the new arrivals.

"Raez! Trych!" she exclaimed, tossing her data pad down on the desk and rushing over. First she hugged Trychon, giving him a light peck on the cheek, then turned to Raezyr.

He slipped his hands around her narrow waist and pulled her close. She leaned up and crushed her mouth to his, drinking him in like a person lost in the Dune Sea would drink from an oasis. They stayed locked together for several moments until Trychon spoke.

"Awkward," he said in a sing-song voice just loud enough for everyone to hear.

The two lovers slid apart. Raezyr just glared at his sibling, but Dianna drew her fist back and punched the Sith warrior in the chest. Trychon, grinning, grabbed at his chest in mock pain and in a whiny voice said, "What did you do that for?"

"That was for nothing. Imagine if you did something," she retorted, then turned to Dek who was intently staring at the computer screen, trying hard not to laugh and failing miserably. "Laugh it up, geek squad. You're next," she threatened with a smile on her face.

November 14, 2010

625. Hoth: King's Lair - Raezyr


The Jet Razor dropped through the clouds and into the snow storm on Hoth. From that point on Raezyr was piloting purely by instruments, instincts and the guidance of the Force. It was dangerous, but they had been in a low orbit holding pattern for nearly eight hours and he was sick of waiting. They'd been on the go for what seemed like years and on the surface of this frozen rock, nestled into the snow and ice encrusted mountains which held the King's Lair base, was his long awaited down time.

And Dianna Kingsdoom. Since their pseudo-relationship had begun months before, there had been precious little time to spend with the fire-haired beauty who had a temperament to match. They'd constantly been on the go, with missions for their Dark Lord, for Dianna, for the Black Phoenix, and even for themselves. It was finally going to pay off.

They had no money in their pockets currently, but neither did they have anywhere to go, and the longer they waited to leave, the more their credit accounts were going to be padded as the payoff from their investments began to come in. It would be slow at first, but they could wait.

In the mean time they had lots of training to catch up on. Sure, they had done a bit of training while making hyperspace jumps, but you could only practice lightsaber forms so much in the cramped cargo hold of the Jet Razor, and you could meditate on new Force techniques, but it was dangerous to really test any new capabilities.

Just ahead through the swirling wind and snow lay a welcoming, albiet cold spacecraft hangar, and once the ship was parked, Delki, Dianna's little Chadra-Fan mechanic could give the ship a good once over. That pesky hyperdrive relay had been acting up again, and damned if he could find anything wrong with it. Hell, even the maintenance crews they had encountered at the last several spaceports had been unable to find anything wrong with the relay.

What he was missing most of all, more than testing his combat prowess against his brother and their apt pupil Mannix, more than studying at the phantasmic feet of his newly found weapons master's holocron, he was missing being in the arms of his lover, Dianna Kingsdoom.

More than anything else, the pirate queen seemed to bring the chaos swirling around Raezyr into focus, calming the storm and helping him see what was truly important. When on missions, the excitement and danger began to cloud the end goals and at times the bloodlust of battle tended to take precedence over common sense as witnessed by his actions recently on Den Var, both in his suite and out of it although he'd never admit as much to Trychon. Dianna tended to have a calming effect on him, clearing his mind and letting him get back on the path of achieving his goals.

His main goal was beginning to look like it might actually be achievable. After the Jedi had hunted him and his Master down and murdered her while he barely escaped with his life, he knew he wanted to bring the Order down, rip them from the lofty pedestal upon which they had placed themselves and handed down their orders, condemning all who did not conform to their ways and secretly directing the Republic to do their bidding.

Thanks to his brother's meticulous planning, things were working out nicely. He had gone from the life a mercenary to someone who would soon be someone not to be trifled with, and not just on a personal level. Trychon's struggle to achieve his own goals were nicely complementing Raezyr's own.

Trychon had begun with a simple thirst for knowledge, a desire to learn more, to piece together the puzzles of the artifacts that had been scattered about the planet on which he had grown up. The more he found out, the more he wanted to know, and somewhere along the way this desire to learn had gradually morphed into a need to attain power. Not just power over himself, but power over everything around him. Eventually one organization would attempt to put an end to that quest, and when it did, the brother's separate goals would merge into one.

One brother needing to attain power to eliminate the Order which had wronged him, and the other brother needing to eliminate the Order which would stand in his path to power. And together they would end the tyrannic stranglehold currently held by the Jedi and their puppet regime, and rule the Galaxy as brothers.

Up ahead loomed the shadow of the open hangar bay doors and Raezyr pushed back his thoughts and focused on the task of landing the star ship. The ship set down with a hiss of gasses and a slight clunk of the pads touching softly down upon the durasteel hangar deck, and Raezyr stared out of the cockpit viewports in confusion. Instead of things being repaired or upgraded, the exact opposite seemed to be happening.

Equipment was being packed into plasteel bins and crates and loaded into cargo holds. Little work seemed to be happening to damaged ships except to ensure they were spaceworthy. Nothing was being upgraded. If he didn't know better, Raezyr thought this looked like a thorough evacuation.

He met Trychon at the loading ramp and they walked down side by side as it was slowly lowering. Reed and Schyrt followed closely behind. "You two get our gear unloaded and to our quarters, we'll go find out what in the name of Korriban is going on," Raezyr told them.

Once they were beyond earshot of their two minions, Trychon spoke in a low voice, "I don't know what this is all about, but it can't be good."

"Indeed," Raezyr replied.

November 09, 2010

624. Den Var - Raezyr

"Another dead end," Raezyr said in exasperation as he and his brother turned the corner noting the narrow street ended in a culdesac.

"No, wait, over there," Trychon said pointing to a opening between two buildings. The buildings on either side were tall and given the extreme narrowness of the walkway, not much light was able to reach the ground, even at mid-day.

"We're already on a side street in the slums, and now you want us to go into a dark narrow alley to boot?" Raezyr questioned. "It's not that I'm afraid, but neither should we go inviting trouble."

"C'mon Raez, don't be an Aldivian school-girl," Trychon goaded with a grin, noting his brother's features go rigid at the insult. "Besides, we'd have to back track nearly three blocks to go around."

"Aldivian school-girl?" Raezyr repeated the insult, his jaw set. "Chee wo de shi, you damn borg-licker," he spat and stormed off toward the narrow walkway.

"Borg licker? Are you referring to Haley, you liu kuoshui de biaozi he houzi
de ben erzi?" Trychon yelled after him, his face livid. "I'm talking to you, bishwag."

Raezyr didn't turn around and instead disappeared into narrow opening. Trychon stood for a moment, then grumbling, followed the big warrior. Intent on the object of his ire, he didn't turn to look back. Had he done so, he might have seen the two heavily armed Keeds who slipped around the corner just as Trychon disappeared into the gap.

The two near-humans were half-way across the open street, heading toward the narrow walkway when Trychon and Raezyr reappeared, stepping back out onto the street. "Can we help you with something?" Raezyr said, stepping slowly sideways, increasing the distance between him and his brother.

The two Keed looked hesitantly at each other, then back toward their quarry. This wasn't how this was supposed to go down. Earlier at the cantina, they had recognized the smaller human from the holovids they had seen of the massacre of Coruscant just a few months ago. They also knew that one of the Hutts, Jamaruck'us Rus'El, had put a sizable bounty on that one's head. They hadn't recognized the big man with the scar next to him, but assumed he probably had a bounty somewhere as well.

"We were hoping to surprise you and take you alive," one of the Keeds said to Trychon in a gravelly voice, his hand slowly creeping toward the blaster at his side.

"Dead will have to do," the other one added. "We don't know who you are," he stated, indicating Raezyr, "but we'll kill you too and figure out what you're worth later."

The Keeds simultaneously dropped their hands for their blasters.

Time appeared to slow for the two Sith as they embraced the Dark Side and allowed it so speed up their actions. They instinctively dropped their hands across their bodies to the spots on their belts where their lightsabers hung.

Except in their miner disguises, they had packed their lightsabers away, carrying only their revolving slugthrowers as their only visible weapons. The barrels of the Keeds weapons began clearing their leather holsters as the Siths hands changed directions.

In a blur of speed they yanked their old fashioned pistols and, holding the triggers down, began to fan the hammers with their other hand as fast as they could until all six shots from each weapon were expended. The reports of each shot came so quickly they rolled into one continuous peal of thunder, echoing loudly off the urban buildings all around.

One of the Keed bounty hunters, having taken the first five of the six shots Raezyr unleashed, jerked backward as each of the slugs tore through his body and he fell onto his back, the sixth shot passing overhead as he fell.

The other bounty hunter dropped to his knees, gazing stupidly at the lavender liquid oozing from the holes in his chest. His hand spasmed and his blaster went off harmlessly, it's bolt pockmarking the duracrete pavement only a meter from his body. He didn't notice as his eyes were already glazed over. His body slumped sideways to the ground.

"I despise bounty hunters," Raezyr said calmly as he ejected the spent cartridges into his hand and tucked the empties into a belt pouch. There was no sense in leaving any more evidence for the Den Var Planetary Peace Forces to find than there already was. He reloaded the pistol and slid it back into his holster. "I despise these weapons, too."

Trychon, in the process of reloading his weapon as well, ignored the comments. "Your plan worked to perfection. I think they really thought they were sneaking up on us. They were like gundarks in porcelain shop."

"Thanks," Raezyr said, turning back to the narrow walkway which lead to large alley, and from there a main thoroughfare.

"But a borg licker?" Trychon asked, following his younger half-sibling. "Was that really necessary?"

"Trych, you're the one who locked lips with a cyborg."

"I-I did not," Trychon stammered. "She kissed me."

"And I suppose you didn't like it," Raezyr said, glancing back over his shoulder waiting for a response. After a few seconds of silence he continued. "That's what I thought," he said smugly.

They walked on in silence for a distance. The older warrior watched his brother's limping steps for a while before speaking up. "I guess I really am a borg licker," Trychon finally admited. "I've got a crush on a cyborg and my half-brother and partner is a cyborg too."

"What are you talking about?" Raezyr asked as they entered the wider alley beyond the narrow path. "I'm not a cyborg."

"You will be once you get your leg replaced," Trychon said catching up and walking beside Raezyr. He grinned in silence as he watched his brother's face turn red.

Raezyr looked over at his brother. "Shut up, Trych."

Within a couple of hours, they were space born on their return trip to Hoth. They had arrived as two Sith with an account loaded with stolen money. The left cashpoor, yet as CEO's and legitimate businessmen with up and coming political contacts; and once their investments began to pay off, the 'cashpoor' portion would no longer be a consideration.

October 26, 2010

623. Den Var - Raezyr

"So let me get this straight," Raezyr said sitting in his new tailored tunic and trousers on the park bench next to his brother. "In a matter of days, we found a new company called RT Galactic Enterprises, we find and purchase-slash invest in several companies including but not limited to a small arms manufacturer, a small shuttle craft company, a brewery, an air speeder dealership, a cybernetic implant company, and a computer company. And to top all of that off we find and solidify a major political connection. That's correct?"

"Well, in a general sense, that's correct," Trychon replied. "Although to be honest, we weren't looking for the political connection so much as we stumbled upon it." He then added that the large donation made to Helwae's campaign fund didn't guarantee a win in his upcoming election, nor did it ensure they'd be able to call on the candidate for any favors if he did. However, the older Sith had already begun thinking about that and trying to work out possible ways to make the connection pay off.

"Why are you asking?" Trychon wondered.

"Because if we did all that, how in the name of Korriban are we not able to find a residence suitable for our needs?" Raezyr spat in disgust. The two had been searching for two days and had already checked out their top choices, none of which worked out for various reasons.

"I don't know. We just need to keep looking. We'll find something," Trychon mused. "At least we better find something and fast or our investment purchases will become null and void and we'll have to go through the whole process of filling all that paperwork out again."

They sat in silence for several minutes, pondering what few options they had left. "You're sure we can't just rent a place?" Raezyr asked for the nth time. "Because the Farrian Arms Hotel would be about perfect."

"No. We have to have to own the property of residence," Trychon explained. "So not even a condominium would work. We'd have to own the entire complex."

Suddenly Raezyr jumped to his feet. "I've got an idea. You meet me back at our rooms in about 2 hours, and have Scin Mon Muhn available to finalize."

Trychon watched him stride off into the distance without even waiting for his reply. "Raez!" he called after his brother. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?"

The big Sith spun around and walked backward. "Hey... It's me!" he called back in a mock-indignant tone as if hurt that his brother didn't trust him.

That's what I'm afraid of, Trychon thought to himself.

------------------

Three hours later Raezyr strode into Trychon's suite, a grin on his face. He was surprised at seeing his normally dour brother in such a good mood. "What's gotten into you?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's ours," the big warrior replied.

"What is?"

Raezyr spread his hands out, gesturing all about.

Slowly realization crept over Trychon. "For the love of Korriban, please tell me you didn't."

"I did. The Farrian Arms is now under Sith management," Raezyr said grabbing an ale from the refrigeration unit, then chuckled. "I guess the mini-bar is free of charge now."

"You asshole," Trychon whispered incredulously, his eyes closed. "There is no way we could afford a high class hotel. Not after we just invested heavily with Dianna. Or have you forgotten about her?" His mood quickly changed to anger.

So did Raezyr's. "Don't you dare throw that in my face. I'm not the one who forgets relationships like you seem to have forgotten about Kord." Trychon's eyes flashed to yellow as he opened his mouth to speak, but Raezyr continued quickly, realizing his brother may be in danger of losing control. "How stupid do you think I am? I did some checking and this place was for sale a few standard months ago but never sold. I tracked down the owner and convinced him it'd be in his best interest to sell quickly and cheaply. We were just able to afford it despite having transferred our investment to the Kingsdoom outfit."

Trychon's mind raced with questions but one immediate issue came first. "Oh, so what you're saying is that until some of our investments start to pay off, if they pay off at all, we're flat broke? I'm supposed to be happy about that?" He whispered through clenched teeth. The older sibling was seething by now.

Raezyr had had enough. "Listen to me, and listen well, brother: We had a problem. I fixed it. We may be broke now, but we were just as broke when we first met. We got by alright then, and we'll get by alright now.

"In the long run, I solved a hell of a lot more problems than I may have caused. We now don't need to hire security or household staff or maintenance personnel because those are already on hand and being paid. Eventually this is just another investment that should turn a profit, unlike a residence which we just sink money into until we were to sell it. Think about it. You're not the only one who can make plans here." By the time he had finished, Raezyr could tell Trychon was beginning to calm down a bit.

"Maybe you're right," he finally agreed after mulling it over for a minute in silence. "Things are going to be tight for a while. It's a good thing we had the ships stocked with supplies first. We can live off that for a while if necessary. But we're going to have to hoof it across town to the spaceport. We can't afford to hire a skimmer now."

"No problem. We'll just have Schyrt and Reed come pick us up on the swoops," Raezyr countered.

"No can do. Having two hired hands come pick us up will blow our cover as miners," the older sibling reminded him. "Nope... we'll have to hoof it."

A thought suddenly struck Trychon. "Raez, how exactly did you 'convince' the hotel owner to sell?"

A grin spread across the big warrior's face as he opened an ale from the mini-bar and leaned back in his chair. "I merely suggested that at his age, he should enjoy life while he still could because a heart-attack could knock him dead at any time." Raezyr took a swig of his ale as if finished.

Trychon glared at him. "And then?"

The younger man sighed. "Okay, so I might have given his heart a little nudge to make it believable."

"Dammit, Raez!" Trychon yelled, getting to his feet. "You promised!"

"I didn't kill him," Raezyr said plaintively.

"But you did threaten him with a heart attack," Trychon reminded him. "And he's not going to forget that. If word about that gets out in business circles it may lead to some unwanted scrutiny in our business dealings, including where our wealth really came from."

They talked for while about this new problem and eventually came to the conclusion that it was time to let HK-51 operate under the "assassin" portion of his "assassin/protocol" nomenclature. The Sith decided it would be best to pick out a couple of suites, designate them for their personal private use, and leave the droid on Den Var in de-activated mode. After a few days, Huck could re-activate, conduct his business, then return to quarters and shut down again until they were able to return for him.

They put in a call to the droid over their private comm channel and within the hour Aitchkay had arrived and acknowledged his mission with what appeared to be excitement, or the closest thing to it they had ever seen from him.

The next morning the pair packed up and checked out of the Farrian Arms, and after the Sith slicer uploaded a remote monitoring program into the hotel's main frame under the guise of "getting acquainted" with their new hotel, they left explicit instructions that their private quarters were not to be entered unless specifically directed to do so.

By the time the two Sith were less than a block away, Trychon had not only erased any evidence of the assassin droid's arrival a the Farrian Arms, but had ensured that when the droid activated himself in a few days time, the hotel's computers wouldn't record any of the droid's movements.

"There, that's taken care of," the older sibling noted as he tucked his data pad into his backpack. "We should be able to get to the Den Var Spaceport by mid-afternoon, depending on how long we stop for lunch."

"And maybe an ale or two," Raezyr added hopefully.

"No, someone made sure we don't have any extra money for ale," the other Sith retorted. "We'll have to settle for having one when we to the ship."

They started walking at a brisk pace down the lanes and boulevards of Den Var, sometimes making small talk, sometimes lost in their own thoughts, but as they progressed, the streets and neighborhoods surrounding them became less and less reputable.

Several times they stopped to check the map on Trychon's data pad to ensure they were still heading in the right direction as neither remembered the place looking this way. At the same time, they had been in a hired air-speeder and their minds had been on things other than the neighborhoods and buildings passing beneath their feet.

Unfortunately for the two, the map Trychon had downloaded wasn't very detailed, showing only major thoroughfares and points of interest and a few times ran into dead-ends in the slums they were trying to navigate, forcing the necessity of entering more than one cantina or other dive establishment to ask for directions.

After leaving one such establishment by late morning, the two Sith who where currently engrossed in looking for streetsigns and landmarks, failed to notice the two heavily-armed near-human males who exited the cantina several moments later and began following them at a distance.

October 24, 2010

622. Den Var - Raezyr

Zhan Helwae wasn't what they were expecting. He was a bit taller and more muscular than most humans, especially most of the business men they had met so far. He had blond hair and a broad smile which could disarm a Mandalorian and put him at ease. He stuck out his big hand to shake their hands as they approached, "Mr. Vandelay... Mr. Alucard... nice to meet you both. Can I call you Raezyr and Trychon?"

"By all means, Mr. Helwae," Trychon said as the three exchanged handshakes.

"Please, call me Zhan. Have a seat."

The three men sat down at the table an immediately a Duros server was at hand to take their order. No serving droids for this level, Raezyr thought to himself. He looked around the room, and it was hard to believe this place was in anyway affiliated with the Club Sky many levels above. The tables here were made of real wood and the chairs upholstered in real leather. The smell of real cigars permeated the air and the lights and music were low and mellow.

The patrons here were all dressed in upscale suits, robes and tunics of the latest styles and finest fabrics. Raezyr looked down at his and his brother's simple mining garb and severely out of place. Helwae apparently noticed. "You gentlemen must not have been in town long. I'll have Miss Vestin set you up with my tailor. He's one of the best on Den Var."

"It would be much appreciated, Zhan. We have only been planet-side for a day or two and have been busy making investments, getting our newly found wealth to work for us as quickly as possible," Trychon said.

"And speaking of investments, we're wondering why you're interested in selling a highly lucrative brewery like Ortan Ales," the older Sith prompted, wanting to get down to business.

Helwae explained his situation. He owned many businesses on Den Var and was a well-known figure in financial circles all over the Matra System, and didn't have a direct hand in many of them, preferring to let the CEO's and presidents of the various companies have direct control. Lately he had been approached by some very influential people about running for political office, and while it wouldn't affect most of his business dealings, the decision to sell Ortan Ales was a purely political image move as his advisers thought it best to distance himself from the alcohol business.

"Why get into the political game?" Raezyr asked, trying to sound interested.

"Right now Den Var and it's surrounding systems are an independent entity forming the Matra Federation, and lately there has been pressure from inside and out to join the Galactic Republic," Helwae explained.

Suddenly both the Sith became very interested. "And what is your stance?" Trychon asked.

"I'm firmly against the move. While there may be some economic gains to be had, the political ramifications would only hinder our Systems development, and although our small military's strength would be bolstered, there really is no need since there's no threat of war. On top of that, there's the Jedi issue," he added with a frown.

"The Jedi issue?" Trychon prodded.

"During the Great War we were one of the few systems to profit. We traded with all sides: The Republic, the Sith, and the Mandalorians. In return, they left us largely alone although all sides pressured us to join them," he explained. "The downside was that we allowed all their agents access. The Jedi were the worst of the lot, often initiating altercations and incidents all over Den Var and other Federation planets, yet they refused to be held accountable for their actions. Somehow they were above the law, and even in the times they seemed to help, they left us to clean up their mess and rarely sticking around to even fill in our local authorities on what was happening, and often leaving them in the dark completely. 'Jedi business' was always their excuse. In reality they caused us more headaches and problems than they ever solved. It took us many years after the War to get the Jedi permissions and authorities revoked. It's not something I, or many others wish to return to.

"Hopefully, I can keep it that way," Helwae concluded.

The political hopeful and the two Sith spent the following hour going over the details of the sale, and Helwae had his legal agents on hand to finalize the sale of Ortan Ales. Trychon and Raezyr even made a considerable donation to his campaign on the grounds their political views were the same.

Afterward, they spent another hour or so engaged in less business like conversation before retreating several floors up to a level which hosted a dance club.

The music was loud and the drinks flowed. Neither Sith remembered how they got back to their suites at the Farrian Arms.

The next morning, Trychon awoke to find himself naked and his bed being shared by not only a blue-skinned Twi'lek girl, but also an Epicanthix female, neither of whom were clothed as well. After kicking them out of his suite, he made a pot of caf and then went to wake his brother in the adjoining suite.

After removing the dark-haired woman who had spent the night there he handed Raezyr a cup of caf and tossed him a pair of pants. "Get dressed brother. We still have to find a residence here or all our investments will become null and void."

Raezyr sat on the edge of his bed and glared at Trychon with blood-shot eyes and making a face due to the "post-drinking morning breath" permeating his mouth. "I just have one question: Where's the bantha?"

"What bantha?"

"The bantha that crapped in my mouth last night."

October 19, 2010

621. Den Var - Raezyr and Trychon

"You said not to shoot anybody!" Raezyr yelled at his brother back at their hotel. They were both lounging at the private bar in Trychon's suite. "I didn't actually even mean to do it, not that I care about the guy. I just got so angry when he told me my leg was not fixable."

"So you gave him a heart attack? Why didn't you just tell him you wanted to find a second opinion?" Trychon asked while he made goofy faces in his disguise while looking at his reflection.

"Well... I did, kinda. Just went overboard at the same time." He responded as he twirled his slugthrower mindlessly. "It won't come back to bite us, I don't think. I paid up front in hard creds and they didn't get a name because I explained that I didn't have my idents yet. I could feel that they didn't believe me, which is ironic... But in the end nobody wants to turn down pocketable money."

"Fine. No more killing on this trip though."

"Agreed. Are we going to meet with your consultant now? I want to get this over with." He stood up and put his weapon back in its holster and started towards the door. He knew this was important to their plans, but it didn't interest him nearly as much as it did his brother.

"Alright, get back here," Raezyr heard coming back from the common area. He headed back and was getting ready to complain about the delay when he saw Trychon was setting up a flatpanel transmission.

"Alright Mr. Mon Muhnn, my associate is ready. Do you have the list I asked for? Your prime candidates under the conditions I laid out?"

"Yes, sir I do. I've contacted the ones I could and have them ready for brief discussions before we move forward. They are all fairly young companies with a strong business plan but slow progress due to lack of capital. Most because they didn't have enough of a business background to get the loans they really needed. High risk and somewhat desperate."

"Perfect. Link us up, Mon Muhnn."

With that, a separate display popped up with a male and female of a near-human race Raezyr didn't recognize.

The male nodded. "Greetings and well wishes, Misters Vandelay and Alucard. Mr. Mon Muhnn has told us of your interest in investing in our venture. We appreciate your unexpected interest, but we're afraid we must decline."

Trychon looked pensive. "I'm sorry to hear that. It's an awful lot of money to be turning down without any discussion."

The female spoke next. "Yes, it is an awful lot of money. Lodo Drives is our dream and our lives. The amount you propose would give you legal controlling interest and majority ownership."

Trychon gave her an understanding smile. "I know what you mean. We're just humble self-employed miners ourselves who happened to get lucky. It was hard for a very long time for us, but we wouldn't trade our freedom for better accommodation by a corporate mining firm, and it paid off. We're not looking to sweep your life from under you. We're just looking for like-minded individuals we would like to support and can give us a return higher than a banking institution. We would entrust the business handling to you entirely."

Surely it sounded too good to be true to the alien couple. Sure enough Raezyr noticed it gave them pause. The male responded again. "That sounds wonderful, but truly we are only looking to make an honest living and work for ourselves. There is much that we could do with that money to be sure, but it is not what we are looking for."

"You could expand your business and do wonderful things." Trychon let it sink in for a moment. "Within months, you could use that growth to hire strong help to take a lot of the load off of yourselves. Your lives would be enriched with the free time alone, though I'm sure the additional credits you could be pulling in would also help." After letting them mull for another half minute he interrupted just before they gave their last attempt at declining his offer. "We'd be willing to draw up paperwork that ensures we have no more than minor influence and control unless you are struggling."

Together their jaws nearly dropped. "So you're serious about what you say?"

Trychon looked back for Raezyr's consent. Trusting in whatever plans his brother had he gave an imperceptible nod. "Of course."

"Then I guess we should set up a time for you to come look at our business a bit more in depth. Yes?"

"Not necessary. After meeting you, I know all I need to know. I'll have the documents drawn up and we can proceed from there."

"We can have them checked by a legal advisor before we agree?"

"Naturally. Though we are only on planet a few short days before we must go back to oversee a few things."

"We understand. We look forward to hearing from you."

After they signed off, the investment agent Scin Mon Muhnn wanted to object to Trychon's seeming recklessness, but the older Sith was having none of it. He told the man to connect the next prospect and they continued on.

Raezyr mostly sat quietly through several similar proceedings that went the same way. Some were more resistant than others, though that may have been due to the fact that only some were being offered enough capital to potentially lost control of their business. They were all substantial investments though. In the end, Trychon convinced all of them that it was in their best interest. After looking back for his sibling's approval, he made them final.

That changed when they got to the investment Trychon said was their next to last one. It was a middle aged Toydarian male, who outright refused. Trychon agreed quickly to only a forty percent share and the alien grinned and accepted. After dismissing the alien and then their broker, he looked back to Raezyr and told him to go ahead and ask the questions that were on his mind.

"Mind trick?" He asked, sounding impressed.

"Not quite, no. Similar, but it's more of an aura of authority and power. It's easier to do over long distances or a transmission than a real mind trick. My holocron's been helping me. Still can't get the mind trick regularly, but this worked out well. I knew it probably would after I was able to convince Mon Muhnn to share his best leads with me for his normal fee. He'll still make a killing, but it could've cost much more."

"Shiny. You gave up on the small arms company rather easily though." The younger Sith noted.
Trychon grinned nearly from ear to ear. "Yes, Toydarians are notoriously hard to influence with the Force. I knew it wasn't worth my time."

"You're smiling awfully big."

"He recently went public with his company. That was the only public company I targeted. As soon as he makes any sort of expansion move or press release, I've set an account up to anonymously buy shares in small increments over the next two months or so. He'll think he's being successful, but ultimately we will have the majority shares in his company. That was an important one."

"So is that it?" Raezyr asked. "Are we done here on Den Var? Because I could have sworn you said we had an investment appointment elsewhere."

"We do. It's the big one," Trychon informed his brother. "This one we meet in person, but he wanted to meet at Club Sky. I guess he wanted a more casual setting."

-------------

"I still don't understand why a big shot businessman wants to meet at a small time night-club like Club Sky," Raezyr said, tipping his wide brim hat back to get a better look around the dimly-lit room. He was already growing to like the hat as he could pull it low and make the scar on his face less visible, yet still have the natural peripherial vision that even the best helmets failed to afford the wearer. "And I don't see anyone even fitting his description."

"He said to take a seat at the bar and we would be contacted," Trychon said walking to the bar and leaning both elbows on the plastoid counter. They each ordered an ale and after it was served, turned and put their backs to the bar.

The older of the two could sense his brother's impatience growing, but before he could say anything, a pale-skinned Twi'lek female in an extremely well-tailored business suit approached. "Mr. Alucard? Mr. Vandelay, I presume?"

The Sith nodded.

"Excellent. I am Lao Vestin. My employer, the honorable Zhan Helwae, sends his greetings and bids you follow me," the Twi'leki female said with an enchanting smile and turned without waiting for their answer.

Trychon took a moment to appreciate the alien's curves as she strode across the room. "I could follow that all day," he commented.

"I bet you could. First droids, now aliens," Raezyr said dryly, rolling his eyes and giving his brother a small shove in the right direction.

She lead them over to a small hallway and stopped at a door with a key pad. She punched in a series of numbers and the door whooshed open. She lead them into a small foyer in front of a turbolift whose doors opened only after the door to the room had closed behind them. Once again she plugged in a set of numbers. The building was approximately three stories tall and the Sith warriors expected a short but swift rise upward. Instead they were thrown for a loop when the lift began to drop instead. And it continued to drop for some time, much longer than they expected.

A bemused smile crossed Vestin's lips. "Club Sky has many private levels, each lower level more exclusive than the one above it. The only way to get to a lower level is to be invited by someone already there," she explained. "While Mr. Helwae doesn't have access to the bottom, he does however, have access to one of the lowest. No one knows exactly how many levels there are total, except for those on the bottom. My personal guess is there are 100 levels."

The lift suddenly came to a stop and the doors slid open to a foyer similar to the one they had just left. "Welcome to level 87, gentlemen."


October 09, 2010

620. Den Var - Raezyr and Trychon


Seventy-two percent of Den Var was covered in oceans. For Den Varians, this meant the dry land was covered in lush, dense forests. Or was at one point in it's history. Now it was covered by vast cities, and while there were still many places where forests existed, it was vastly exceeded by it's square kilometers of urban landscape.

While it was by no means anything compared to the planet-wide metropolis of Coruscant which boasted buildings tall enough to rival mountains, it was still a sight to behold and many predicted that someday Den Var would most likely reach Coruscant or Taris-like proportions. For now it was content to allow it's citizens to admire it's beauty from solid ground, rather than duracrete walk-ways suspended kilometers above the planet's surface.

Schyrt and Reed set the Twilight Stalker and the Jet Razor down in a private berth at one of the larger spaceports. Their orders were to take care of supplies and maintenance on the space craft then stand by and be ready for departure at a moment's notice. Aitchkay was set to his usual duties, interacting with space port personnel and ensuring the proper docking paperwork was filed.

The two Sith warriors rented a pair of speeders and made their way to the Farrian Arms Hotel, reputed to be one of the more upscale locales where many businessmen frequented when they needed to visit Den Var. After checking into separate suites Trychon came over to Raezyr's room with an extra bag he had packed and tossed it on the bed.

"What's that?" Raezyr asked.

"It's what we'll be wearing for a little while... to maintain our cover story," Trychon explained.

The big warrior opened the duffel and started perusing the contents. "And what exactly is our cover story? I'm assuming you already made one up seeing as you have costumes for it already." His tone was one of irritation, and in light of their recent conversation Trychon figured he'd better tread lightly.

"It's minor details that has no real bearing on anything but they way we'll dress for a day or two. It's only in the event that someone starts asking us where we made our fortune," the older sibling said.

Weeks before when they had visited Den Var for the first time, they had accidentally befriended a couple of miners who had made small fortunes. The miners, in a gesture of friendship, had given the Sith brothers a pair of peculiar hats. Raezyr pulled one of them out of the bag and looked at it quizzically. It was black with a wide brim turned slightly up at the edges and the crown was dented on the top and sides. It was adorned with only a small black band with a silver colored buckle on the side.

"Please tell me we're not actually going to wear these things," he said, then groaned when he saw the grin on Trychon's face.

"We're miners from Wheedon 9 in the Fillion System, and we struck it rich with a carrinium mine," Trychon said, smiling triumphantly.

"Wheedon 9? I think I've heard of it, but can't recall anything special about it," Raezyr said thoughtfully then tried on the hat. "Hey, this fits pretty well."

"That's the whole point... not the hat... okay the hat too," the older Sith quickly amended at his brother's confused look. "Wheedon 9 is one of those places most people have heard of in passing, but it's unremarkable... and as long as we just tell people that we made our stake while mining, then invested wisely, no one will even question it."

Raezyr continued pulling things out of the bag: A pair of dark blue canvas trousers, a white button-down tunic with a black vest, black heeled leather boots, a tan calf-length canvas jacket with buttons in the front, and last but not least, a older, revolver style slug-throwing pistol replete with leather holster. "Is this piece of junk really necessary? I mean, does it even fire? And if so, why would I bother with it since I have lightsabers?" the big warrior asked incredulously.

"Um, miners don't carry lightsabers, so yes, it's necessary," Trychon said. "But like I said, it's only temporary until we kind of establish our back story. And although it does indeed work, you don't need to be killing people here. We're soon going to be dealing with upper-class businessmen. Putting a gun to their head might seal one deal for us, but it'll have repercussions and close many doors. Our wits will win more battles here on Den Var, I suspect, than a lightsaber ever will."

After a moment, Raezyr agreed and changed into his new outfit after Trychon had gone back to his own suite. The brothers split up after that. Trychon needed to finalize their legal documents so they could purchase property here and Raezyr made an appointment at a nearby medical facility which catered to a wealthier clientele.

Usually appointments needed to be scheduled several days or even weeks in advance, but with a little "incentive" provided to the scheduler, Raezyr was able to get bumped up to urgent status and was seen right away.

The doctor who examined Raezyr's knee using several hand-held scopes then viewed the images on a hand held data pad, all the while making not-so-reassuring clucking noises.

Finally, Raezyr couldn't stand it anymore. "Well, are you gonna put me in the kolto tank now or what?"

"Well, that certainly would be an option..." The doctor said without looking up, "if you had come by much sooner." There was a slight pause. "There's only so much we can do now for it. Some rather invasive surgery could get you back to... say roughly seventy percent of your previous function in that leg. The rehab would be long and painful though. I strongly recommend replacement surgery."

"Tendon replacement?" The Sith growled. He was afraid he knew where this was going and he was already beginning to seethe at the thought.

The doctor chuckled. "Goodness no. That would be a waste of time. A cybernetic leg is your only real option."

Raezyr could hear his brother's 'sympathetic' laughter and reassurances. "Wrong answer. Fix it up completely and without turning me into some droid."

"I'm afraid that's just not possible. You wouldn't become a droid... a droid at all. We would merely..." There was another pause, and then a cough. "Excuse me. Anyway, we..." The man stopped once more, as his eyes began to widen and his voice failed him. He grabbed his chest as though he was experiencing great pain. His mouth silently formed the word 'help'.

Raezyr glared at him and watched as he slumped to the floor and curled up into a ball. "I think I'll seek a second opinion. I'll need some meds to hold me over though. Thank you for your time." He walked over to a cabinet in the corner, and took his time picking out the combinations he thought would be a nice change of pace. A fancy stim injector also caught his eye. Ooh. That could be handy. he thought to himself.

He walked out through the reception and calmly told the nurse at the desk that the doctor said he wasn't feeling very well.

-------------

Trychon stared at the forms on his pad. Ah, ronto droppings. he mused while he shook his head. I didn't even think about surnames. Oh well. It's not like it's permanent. He quickly filled in the rest of the forms and headed up to the terminal where he was greeted by a holographic head of a man who was probably in some other building on the planet.

After the hologram gave up on engaging in unnecessary chatter, Trychon beamed the forms through.

The head hummed as it went over the data. "Hmmm... two temporary to permanent resident visas? What's the purpose of your migration here to Den Var?"

"Business."

"I see... and what type of business will you be engaging in, sir?"

"Undetermined as of yet."

The near transparent eyes rolled. "Service industry? Manufacturing work? Entertainment? We need to get you off on the right foot! We'll set you up with information about jobs we have open."

"Investment. I've already made contacts. Haven't decided where to buy yet. Help is not required."

The head nodded. "Thank you, Mr.... Vandelay? As in... are you related to Art Vandelay?"

Trychon smiled. He was going to pay for this later. "Actually, I'm Trych Alucard. My associate is Raez Vandelay." Suddenly it hit him that he was supposed to be acting the part of a wide-eyed miner all along. "No relation that we're aware of... but we're both very big fans of his work. I love mindless holos. Wouldn't that be something though, to meet him and find out that my friend is some distant kin? First we hit it big on that mine... then that. That would be somethin' indeed."

The man on the other end of the computer seemed happy to get something in the way of a real response back and smiled. "It sure would, Mr. Alucard. Den Var is very proud of Mr. Vandelay. Now. Your temporary-to-permanent visas have been approved. Don't forget to check in with your acclimation officer once a month and study up for the citizenry test in eight months. Have a wonderful day!"

With that, the head disappeared and Trychon was left with the computer readout and before long, two ident cards they needed to keep with them at all times.

He looked again at the names he'd assigned them. Yep... It'll be a long sparring session tomorrow. He could always gauge how well he was progressing in his lightsaber sparring by getting under his brothers' skin and seeing how hard things got when there was little holding back.

September 24, 2010

619. The Heist - Raezyr and Trychon

Raezyr injected another pain suppressant into his leg just above the wound. It was healing nicely even without having been in the kolto tank and he was wavering on the decision to visit a medical facility when they reached Den Var. He probably could have gotten by without the stimulant but it still throbbed a bit and it was mildly distracting. He tossed the empty injector into the waste receptacle then opened the ale Trychon had just handed to him and watched the foam build as he slowly poured it into a mug.

"Explain again how an investment broker on Den Var just happened to line up a bunch of properties for us to look at in such a short time," the big warrior said, still pouring his beverage.

"He lined all this up so quickly because I gave him lots of time to do it," the older Sith explained, between pulls from his own tankard of ale. "I contacted him secretly after our first stop there."

Raezyr took a long look at his brother. "I'm not sure whether to be happy about your foresight or irritated that you have been setting plans in motion without bothering to mention them to me."

"I set up an appointment, little brother. It's not like I actually bought anything," Trychon said, chuckling. "I'm not going behind your back. Besides, we already knew we wanted to make some investments. All I did was expedite things a bit."

Raezyr agreed and downed the rest of his ale. Despite all the Sith training he'd received, he knew that there was always an exception to the rule. He'd been able to trust Master when he was young, and he could trust Trychon now.

A thought pushed through his alcohol and stimulant fogged mind. Master hadn't been able to trust him when she had needed him most. It wasn't a line of thought he wanted to pursue, so he pushed the thought away and cracked open another ale.

Trychon pushed on, despite his brother's apparent irritated mood. "We finally get to relax for a few days planetside and have a good time," He said as he playfully tossed a bunched up napkin at his brother. "Knock the gloom off over there, Darth Downer. Say, other than the things we already discussed, what would you like to look at while we're spending our new-found wealth?"

"I hadn't really given it much thought," Raezyr said, thinking. "We already have two nice ships. A solid business investment or two like the ones we're already planning would be nice, but other than that, I don't really know... A new swoop?"

Trychon chuckled. "That's why I'm the one doing all the dreaming. You may not know what to do with our money... but I have big plans. You'll enjoy it whether you want to or not."

Trychon felt the room get a bit darker. He held up his drink and stared at it as though he thought it was the cause, though he knew it wasn't.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," Raezyr glowered. "We seem to have fallen into an unintentional role situation. A lot of times, around others especially... it seems we've casted ourselves into leader and warrior respectively." Looking across the table, he saw his counterpart's attention snap into focus.

"I..."

"Save it." He continued. "For appearances sake... I think we not only have to keep it up... but we may want to actually start planning certain things to reinforce the illusion. It's important. Strong leadership is a must, and people expect certain behaviors out of Sith. It avoids any idiotic underling from trying to play one of us off the other if there's an obvious structure. Lastly, anything we can do to keep the Jedi guessing gives us an advantage."

There was a pause.

"Then why..."

"I just don't want you to think that there's any confusion about us being equals outside of the public eye. We need to be clear on what we're doing specifically so we
don't
grow into these roles by accident."

There was a long pause after Raezyr finished and finally Trychon broke the silence.

"So..." he said, drawing the word out. "You want another ale, then?" Trychon asked grinning.

"Why not? It's still two days to Den Var," Raezyr said, cracking a rare smile. He had known he could trust his brother, but sometimes you just have to get things out in the open. To make sure there are no misunderstandings, he thought to himself as he flipped open the cold beverage that was just placed in front of him.



September 08, 2010

618. Sith Hunt III: Revenge of the Fish - Raezyr


"I'm still not sure that abandoning Trych and Raez is the best course of action, Love," Tyr said into the comm about the Nefarion Wraith. He'd exited hyperspace not long ago right behind Anya Tachi who was piloting the Wasted Rancor.

A week earlier, after learning there would be no payoff from the successful attack and hi-jacking of the Galactic aurodium shipment, the two Sith had slipped off in the middle of the night, Carefully masking their presence from Trychon and Raezyr, they had slipped in the workout/meditation chamber at King's Lair on Hoth and absconded with the holocron of Dark Lord Daxon Var.

It had become apparent the other two Sith had used the opportunity to withhold teachings gleaned from the Sith artifact and Anya was determined to make up the ground they had lost and prevent her rivals, for that's how she now viewed Trychon and Raezyr, from furthering their studies.

She had quickly tested the other holocrons in their possession, but as none of them appeared to work, she left them as they were nothing but mere trinkets, antiques for a museum. She had considered taking them as well and selling them, but decided it might not be a good idea in case those self-righteous Jedi got their hands on them.

Soon she'd learn all she needed from this Daxon Var to become the most powerful Sith alive and when she did, then those two fools would pay for their insolence. She smiled, imagining 'Lord' Trychon and 'Darth' Raezyr, bowing to her, swearing their allegiance to Darth Anya, Dark Lady of the Sith. She already had that idiot Tyr wrapped around her finger.

Early on she had figured out she could lure those of the opposite sex into doing her bidding. At first she had attributed that to her 'escort' training and he beauty, but lately she had noticed that when she 'turned on her charms' she could feel the Force build up inside her.

She had tentatively tried it out and, no longer needing to keep up the charade that Tyr was in charge, had begun berating him for everything he did. Amazingly enough, he took the tongue lashings in stride. For a while at least. Slowly he had begun growing more and more agitated, and just when she thought he might snap, she turned on the charm again, letting the Dark Side flow through her as she did.

Anya didn't know how to explain what she was doing, but instantly Tyr would become a love sick nuna once again, completely obedient. She wondered why it hadn't worked on Raezyr, and thought way back to Korriban and wondered if she had known then what she knew now if she might not have all three under her control.

She decided it served no purpose to daydream about things like that and punched the comm button to answer Tyr, "Yes, moron. Those two incompetent fools planned a wonderful hi-jacking, then put their trust in a group of petty thieves. Serves them right for planning it without consulting us first. Had they done that, we'd all be rolling fat in the credits right now.

"As it is, we have to get back out there and make some money and at the same time be real Sith and stick it to the Jedi as often as we can," she told him.

"We made pretty decent money just running around wreaking havoc before, and we weren't even trying then. This time we'll try to make some credits, and maybe play it just a bit safer than we did before. We'll be rich in no time as long as you listen to me and stop trying to think for yourself," she berated him.

"I supposed you're right, my love," Tyr's voice responded over the speaker. He sounded a bit depressed and she decided she'd have to 'charm' him a little as soon as they were planet-side and then they could blow off a bit of steam when they got to the hostel.

Anya's thoughts drifted to the future. She couldn't wait to taunt that squid-headed Jedi lady again. And it should be safe enough. After all, they still had Trychon's program to rely on.

September 05, 2010

617. The Heist - Raezyr

Try as he might, Trychon couldn't stop thinking about Haley Stargazer. He had thought about her often since they first met, and even more so since the last trip to Tatooine when the two of them had taken refuge in the abandoned krayt dragon caves, but since she had practically blown him off yesterday, he could barely keep his mind focused on anything else.

Not even during his brief 'relationship,' if it could even be called that, with Anya had he been so preoccupied with another person, and it was driving him mad. The beautiful blond slicer was like a program or a code which needed to be deciphered. She was the puzzle that just had to be solved, even though he knew he should have his mind on other things.

Especially since that was the second boulder I almost ran into, Trychon thought to himself, but like it or not, his thoughts quickly drifted back to the enigma that was Haley Stargazer.

Suddenly Raezyr was diving at him, knocking him from his swoop bike and into the sand. At the same instant he caught the greenish glow of an energy enshrouded projectile flashing their direction.

Trychon harnessed the Force, rolled and sprang into the air, aided by the Dark Side. He drew the long cylindrical tube from his belt as he landed on the ground and the black energy blade sprang to life as he took a defensive stance.

He sent his senses outward, detecting not only his half-brother, but a dozen other minds spread out among the rocks and boulders of the steep hill side. They were minds that were unfamiliar and as of yet had not visibly shown themselves, although he had a good idea where each one was located.

The black-fatigued Sith gripped the lightsaber hilt with both hands and looked toward his sibling out of the corner of his eye. Raezyr was scrambling along the ground toward a boulder leaving a dark trail in the sand behind him. The idiot had gotten himself shot again.

Trychon heard the report of the slug throwing rifle from the hillside an instant after seeing the muzzle flash. The green bullet zipped down hitting the ground next to Raezyr spraying the other warrior with the fine grains of sand.

"You gonna make it, Raez?" Trychon called, keeping his eye on the hillside and the various hiding places of the unknown assailants.

"I'm not going to die today, if that's what you're asking," the armor clad Sith called sourly.

"You might want to get rid of that armor, brother," Trychon called.

"Why do you say that?"

"It's a gunfire magnet, I think," Trychon explained, chuckling. "I mean, you're the one wearing armor, and you're the only one who gets shot. Maybe if you..." The older Sith was interrupted by more gun fire, but this time a barrage.

He easily deflected the incoming slugs, but several beings wrapped from head to toe in brown and tan rags sprang from their ambush spots and charged forward swinging some sort of metal clubs and sticks above their heads.

Sand People, they were called, if he remembered correctly. Some native people of some sort, and they outnumbered him... by a lot.

So far he'd only practices with his newly built lightsaber, sparring with his brother, but if ever he was going to need it, now was the time. As the enemy rushed in, he flicked another switch and a red beam of energy sprang forth from the other end of the lightsaber hilt.

He twirled the double-bladed lightsaber quickly over head, changed his fighting stance and suddenly they were on him.

The Sand People swung their gaffi sticks (the name suddenly came to him) and he danced around, avoiding the blows he couldn't block. From the corner of his eyes he noticed Raezyr was on his feet, apparently gritting it out through the pain, but he couldn't think about that. For the moment he needed to concentrate on the here and now and the attackers bent on killing him.

He let the Dark Side fill him and a familiar feeling enveloped him; It was almost as if time had slowed around him while he was able to react at a normal pace.

Using the Force, Trychon leaped into the air, flipping backwards and out of the midst of his assailants, the black and red blades humming as they sliced through the ambushers. If their weapons had been imbued with cortosis, they might have stood a chance, but as it was his blades slid through them like a vibro blade through silk and bit deeply into the flesh of his enemies.

Within moments the Sand People lay in pieces on the hot sand around him. He looked over to his brother who had also fared well in the brief melee. Thankfully their attackers must not have considered him as big of a threat since he was already wounded, and Raezyr was already back down, unable to support his own weight on the injured leg.

Trychon attempted to look at it, but Raezyr brushed him aside. "Just go get our swoops. I'll be fine," he said pulling out some kolto patches and pain suppressant stimulants from the emergency pouches on his utility belt.

Trychon stood for a moment considering his brother. "You're a complete idiot, you know that?"

"Excuse me?"

"What you did goes against all of our Sith teaching. You know that don't you?" Trychon berated his sibling. "Protect yourself first. Our Sith teachers would not be impressed."

Raezyr ripped his helmet off and threw it down into the sand. "You're kidding me right? You'd be dead with a Sand People cycler slug in your brain right now if I hadn't saved your sorry ass."

He paused a moment, giving Trychon a chance to respond to that, but apparently he realized it was the truth. "Look, I understand that If I get myself injured or killed while trying to do a good deed, I'm most likely going to be hindering my allies in the long run, but I don't think that rule was intended so one sibling could idly sit by while the other one was murdered."

A few silent moments slid by and Trychon reluctantly agreed, then trotted off to recover the swoop bikes where the riderless vehicles had glided to a stop a few hundred meters off while Raezyr bound the wound as best he could.

The base had a kolto tank of it's own in the medical bay, but in light of the assasination attempt last time he was on Tatooine, he thought it might be best to tough it out a few days until he could get to a real medical facility on Den Var.

Night fell as they pulled into the base, and after a few more meetings with Falka and his recovered second in command, Tocar, replete with his new cybernetic implants replacing the side of his face where Raezyr had "disciplined" him for failing to thoroughly check new employees backgrounds resulting in allowing assassins to infiltrate the Black Phoenix, they decided to take off immediately instead of waiting for morning.

HK-51, Reed, and Schyrt were all aboard the Jet Razor already and in the process of doing pre-flight checks, while the Sith half-brothers were doing external checks just in case Tocar had fallen short on his duties again.

Trychon felt Haley's presence in the deserted space craft hangar before he heard her foot falls on the durasteel flooring and turned to meet her.

"Haley, look," Trychon began. "I wanted to talk to you..."

She leaned forward and kissed him quickly but firmly, then turned and made a hasty exit, leaving Trychon standing there, his mouth agape, watching her shapely figure recede across the hangar.

"A speechless Trychon?" said Raezyr from behind him. The older sibling turned to see a smirk on the face of the armor clad Sith, leaning against the side of the spacecraft. "I can now die knowing I've seen the impossible."

Trychn glowered at his younger brother. "Shut up, Raez."

September 04, 2010

616. The Heist - Raezyr

The hot wind whipped up underneath Raezyr's helmet as he and his brother sped across the sun-baked desert on their respective swoop bikes, skirting the edge of the Jundland Wastes whose rocky crags and canyons rose thousands of feet above them.

The big Sith warrior was beginning to really hate this planet and the two blazing suns which shone down, roasting everything on the surface of the planet. Conversely, the temperature at night dropped down to nearly freezing making it nearly impossible to get used to the weather. Combine all that with the frequent sandstorms and hostile fauna native to this rock, he couldn't understand why any sentient being would purposely choose to live here.

He looked over at his half-brother for a moment as the barren landscape whipped by at high speed. Trychon had been lost in his own thoughts, pre-occupied. Twice he had nearly crashed into large boulders and Raezyr could only wonder what the other Sith was thinking about.

If he had to guess, he'd have to say it was the cyborg. The blond slicer was certainly beautiful, if one could get past the cybernetic implants visible around her left eye. And her weird computer interface/prosthetic left hand. And her lack of emotion. Clearly Trychon was one who could, and somehow she had gotten him all twisted in the head at the moment. Raezyr decided they were going to have to have a discussion about this and soon.

Suddenly he felt a twinge in the Force and looked up into the rocks on a boulder-strewn hill high above them. He saw nothing with his eyes, but he knew what was about to happen. Yanking the controls of the swoop, he veered sharply toward Trychon then dove from his own vehicle and catching his brother in the ribs, knocking them both from their swoops.

It had all happened in the span of a second, but he had somehow known Trychon hadn't sensed the danger, and as he dove he caught the flash from the muzzle of a projectile rifle.

Raezyr bounced and tumbled across the sand and rocks for an instant before harnessing the Dark Side to bring his movements into a controlled roll. Instantly his lightsabers were in hand, flashing to life and he tried to jump to his feet to defend himself.

But something was wrong. The Sith warrior's leg buckled under his weight. He dropped down to his knee and pain tore through his leg. He scrambled for cover as best as he could as another energy-enveloped green slug sprayed sand mere centimeters away.

As soon as he thought he was under cover he looked down at his knee and the blood pouring from the gap in his armor. He'd been hit!

Filth-ridden Sand People!