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.
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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.
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