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.

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.

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."

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!