Later that night, the two brothers were walking home after a quick detour for some unusual supplies.
"I feel ridiculous even carrying this bag of junk." Raezyr grumbled in his favorite intimidating tone. "I still don't get the point of going to all the extra effort we seem to be going to. I know you can get rid of any trace of the files from our Suite. Or from the club, for that matter. That would discredit any hard copy he may have, and make it seem like a forgery."
"Indeed." His older brother admitted. "But sometimes it's important to pass on lessons."
"Don't tumble with the Sith? I think most people know that, Trych."
"No... you need to learn that while politics may seem boring... and maybe it is... controlling politicians can be fun."
Raezyr resisted the strong urge to strike his sibling, due to the fact that they were entering their large 'home' and they were too easily noticed there. The conversation was over for the moment. Even using vague terms, they had to be careful what they discussed in open. In the streets, they were two random guys still. Inside the hotel they recently purchased, they were supposed to be two dumb miners who got lucky and struck it rich. The workers would raise some eyebrows if they weren't careful.
They headed up to their large suite and talked things over a little more. Raezyr couldn't help but chuckle when the whole thing was laid out. He still resented the political nature of it, but he agreed that it was inevitable.
Trychon stole away to his room to do homework on the building they'd be headed to the next night as well as the various systems in place. His younger brother also went to his own room, but instead to meditate on a skill he'd been shown to hide his scar.
He sat on his bed with his legs crossed. His new artificial leg felt all at once normal and unnatural. The droid lover a few rooms over would tell him it was in his head, but it was an annoyance and a distraction. He did his best to clear his mind and focus on projecting a mental image. Only now, he was working on something larger than he'd ever done before in changing his scar, quite literally. He needed to make himself appear larger and also exude pure fear.
Hours later, and right on cue, Trychon knocked on his door. Done with his 'homework', he had a plan to test out Raezyr's progress. He led them into the den, lined up several ales, and then grabbed a few more to line up.
"Ok. I'm going to get real drunk like and not control it so I can try to imitate a weaker mind." He grinned. "That'll help me be able to see your progress more clearly. How's that sound?"
"Like an excuse to get real drunk and not control it."
There was no answer, just the sound of an ale being gulped mercilessly, directly from the bottle. A second bottle followed, then Trychon sat on their couch and signaled for him to start while he opened a third.
------------------
Hours later, both Sith were hysterically laughing at some of the 'modifications' they were able to make to Raezyr's appearance. They had long ago decided that he had in fact increased his mastery of the skill enough to follow through with their plan, and had since resorted to entertaining themselves with the skill, with continued drinking.
From the corner of the room, HK-51 stepped forward. "You are receiving a transmission from Mr. Helwae." When they were all in the suite like this, the droid served as their main computer interface.
Trychon pointed for his younger brother to take it as he stepped out of the camera's view.
Raezyr frowned and stood up. "Put it through to the vidscreen, Huck."
The image of the larger than life political hopeful sprung up. His eyes were squinted and his hair indicated that he had just rolled out of his bed. He was certainly worse for the wear, but there was also a look of concern hidden behind his eyes. "Mr. Vandelay. Good to see you this morning." His voice rang true as though he had just woken up from a healthy ten hours of rest after a day of reading. He was clearly in control even when he wasn't feeling well. "Glad to see I caught you while you were still in. I was calling to thank you again for meeting up with me so I could thank you properly last night."
"Call me Raezyr, Zhan. If you insist, so do we." He let his words come out a little rougher, trying to show that they were still recovering, even though they'd sobered up a number of times during the night and barely noticed that they hadn't slept.
"Fair enough, Raezyr. Listen... I also wanted to reach you and check in... make sure you didn't misunderstand me at all. I may have said some stuff hastily that I shouldn't have. It's not just that though... I trust you guys to keep things to yourselves under such circumstances. I am a great judge of character, and I know you boys are great guys."
"Um... you too?" Raezyr shrugged, unsure what else to say at that point.
"Thing is, I think I may have given the impression that I needed help with something, or asked you guys to do something for me. I don't need you to do anything... rash."
A light went on in Raezyr's head. He hid the recognition, but it was pretty obvious why Helwae was calling. He was having hangover remorse, and was worried that they were going to put a hit on his opponent. That would be potentially worse than the news he'd shared coming out. He needed to find a more subtle way to deal with it, or accept his consequences. He underestimated the Sith... which was understandable since he didn't have the slightest clue that they were in fact Sith.
"To be perfectly frank, Zhan.... I uh... Don't really remember... much of anything. I know we had a good time. That's about all. Any idea how long of a sanisteam I should take?"
Helwae's posture straightened almost immediately and his eyes brightened. He held himself well even before, and most wouldn't have noticed. Raezyr could see the difference in composure like it was a newstream feed running across the bottom of the transmission though.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that you don't remember our night, it was a good one to be sure. I am glad though that I didn't give you the wrong impression. What about Mr. Alu... er... Trychon? Is he around?"
Raezyr pointed off to the side. "He's not up yet. I can tell you though that if it weren't for me, he wouldn't remember to come home, or even what planet we were on, after drinking like that. He's horrible."
A smile of understanding covered what was certainly more relief. "Well, we'll have to do it again sometime so you can remember, maybe a little more carefully or private. When Trychon wakes up, give him my best. If he does remember anything... funny... just have him call me and I'll clear it up."
With that, the transmission ended.
From the couch, Trychon clapped. "Bravo, brother. Bravo."
June 10, 2011
June 08, 2011
685. Like Womprats in a Cage - Raezyr
"Are you going to ignore me forever?" Anya asked. Both she and Tyr were held in Universal Energy Cages set up inside a large room in the brig on board the Republic Hammerhead-class cruiser, Unity. The cages were designed specifically to hold Force users and reflect their Force powers back toward them two-fold. It allowed non-Force using members of the crew to attend to their two Sith prisoners. Two other empty cages sat in the same room as well. Apparently they had anticipated up to four prisoners at once. It was a telling fact as a single cage was built and installed at enormous cost.
Tyr was in no mood to talk. He hadn't been in the mood since coming to in the ship's prison two days ago despite all of Anya Tachi's attempts at conversation. He couldn't so soon forget the thrall in which she had held him for so long. He looked back on that time in sheer awe. He could vividly remember her acting the task master and him complying so completely, no matter how poorly she had treated him.
If only he had had his wits about him sooner. He never would have left Trychon and Raezyr behind. What a fool he had been to let her convince him he was in charge. In retrospect, his Sith training had nearly stalled while his fellow Sith apprentices' had clearly advanced well beyond his own level. Had they stayed, his own mastery of the Dark Side would be just as competent as theirs, and maybe he would have stood a chance against that damnable blue Jedi.
The more Tyr thought back though, the more he began to realize that it had been Trychon who had sent Anya and him away in the first place. Could it have been possible that it was their plan all along to hoard the training to themselves and thus subjugate Anya and himself? No, the two Sith had sought them out, called them back and had initiated the plans to bring their training up to speed and fill them in on the things they had missed. But still... they were Sith.
He dismissed the idea finally. Sith or not, they were friends and two of the few people he knew he could trust with his life. No, this whole mess was Anya's fault. Her and that psychotic ego of hers. And his fault too. He had failed to keep his guard up and got caught up in the fun and the passion. It suddenly dawned on him why the Jedi so abhorred emotions. They were dangerous. He'd just make sure he stayed in control of them next time.
Tyr flexed his hand and looked down at the temporary prosthesis. It was like a big clumsy metal gauntlet enveloping his entire hand. Sure, it replaced his non-existent thumb, but it was so unwieldy that his hand was barely useful anyway. He glanced over at Anya and the similar field prosthetic she had on her hand and wondered just exactly what she was missing. He hoped it had been extremely painful.
Anya Tachi saw Tyr looking over at her. "Hey, we have to start trying to figure a way out of here," she said. "Next time a guard comes in, try using a push or something."
It was too much for Tyr. "Hu che hou zi de pi gu," he said with a snarl. "I'm not your slave anymore."
Anya looked indignant. "No need to get testy," she replied. After a moment she added, "Apparently your two days of silence turned you into a potty mouth."
All Tyr wanted to do was to shut her up and hurt her at the same time. "I'm sure you were called worse back in your Corellian whore house."
The blonde Sith's pale face went red, then turned white. She opened her mouth to say something but Tyr interrupted.
"Shut up and listen to me for once!" he screamed. "We've been doing this your way for a long time and all it's gotten us is an energy cage and a metal glove. Well, we are going to get out of here, but we're going to do it my way. I don't know where they're taking us, but when we get there, we'll figure something out, but for now: SHUT UP!"
"Dantooine," said a voice from the door. Both of the Sith apprentice's heads snapped around. During the yelling, they hadn't heard the door to their cage chamber swoosh open. The big Chiss Jedi took a step into the room and the door closed behind him with a slight clang. "We're headed for Dantooine, at the moment," he said.
"Now that no one is trying to kill anyone, I thought I'd come in and see how you both are doing," he said as he walked toward the cages. "My name is Val, by the way. I don't think we've ever been introduced."
"I don't care what your name is, you blue freak," Anya said vehemently. "When I get out of here, I'm going to kill you, you know that, right?"
"I'd sure hate for that to happen, Anya," Val replied. "Personally, I'd love to see you join me on the Light Side of the Force."
"No," she replied in a low menacing voice. "I'll never join you."
"Well, if you won't turn to the light, then maybe he will," Val said, indicating Tyr.
"My father was a Jedi Knight," Tyr said coldly. "I slew him with his own lightsaber."
"Yes... I know. It was a sad day for the Order. I met Jaron before he died. He was a good Jedi, and he loved you very much, or so I'm told," Val said.
Tyr's face twisted. "That's a damn dirty lie."
"I'll admit that's possible," Val said, completely unphased. "Regardless, there are some people who would very much like to speak to you on that subject when we get to Dantooine."
Val turned and headed toward the door. He paused before leaving. "I do hope you both change your minds about joining us. I can imagine those cages are quite inhibiting. I know I'd hate to be stuck in one for a long period of time." He closed the door behind him without waiting for a response.
Tyr was in no mood to talk. He hadn't been in the mood since coming to in the ship's prison two days ago despite all of Anya Tachi's attempts at conversation. He couldn't so soon forget the thrall in which she had held him for so long. He looked back on that time in sheer awe. He could vividly remember her acting the task master and him complying so completely, no matter how poorly she had treated him.
If only he had had his wits about him sooner. He never would have left Trychon and Raezyr behind. What a fool he had been to let her convince him he was in charge. In retrospect, his Sith training had nearly stalled while his fellow Sith apprentices' had clearly advanced well beyond his own level. Had they stayed, his own mastery of the Dark Side would be just as competent as theirs, and maybe he would have stood a chance against that damnable blue Jedi.
The more Tyr thought back though, the more he began to realize that it had been Trychon who had sent Anya and him away in the first place. Could it have been possible that it was their plan all along to hoard the training to themselves and thus subjugate Anya and himself? No, the two Sith had sought them out, called them back and had initiated the plans to bring their training up to speed and fill them in on the things they had missed. But still... they were Sith.
He dismissed the idea finally. Sith or not, they were friends and two of the few people he knew he could trust with his life. No, this whole mess was Anya's fault. Her and that psychotic ego of hers. And his fault too. He had failed to keep his guard up and got caught up in the fun and the passion. It suddenly dawned on him why the Jedi so abhorred emotions. They were dangerous. He'd just make sure he stayed in control of them next time.
Tyr flexed his hand and looked down at the temporary prosthesis. It was like a big clumsy metal gauntlet enveloping his entire hand. Sure, it replaced his non-existent thumb, but it was so unwieldy that his hand was barely useful anyway. He glanced over at Anya and the similar field prosthetic she had on her hand and wondered just exactly what she was missing. He hoped it had been extremely painful.
Anya Tachi saw Tyr looking over at her. "Hey, we have to start trying to figure a way out of here," she said. "Next time a guard comes in, try using a push or something."
It was too much for Tyr. "Hu che hou zi de pi gu," he said with a snarl. "I'm not your slave anymore."
Anya looked indignant. "No need to get testy," she replied. After a moment she added, "Apparently your two days of silence turned you into a potty mouth."
All Tyr wanted to do was to shut her up and hurt her at the same time. "I'm sure you were called worse back in your Corellian whore house."
The blonde Sith's pale face went red, then turned white. She opened her mouth to say something but Tyr interrupted.
"Shut up and listen to me for once!" he screamed. "We've been doing this your way for a long time and all it's gotten us is an energy cage and a metal glove. Well, we are going to get out of here, but we're going to do it my way. I don't know where they're taking us, but when we get there, we'll figure something out, but for now: SHUT UP!"
"Dantooine," said a voice from the door. Both of the Sith apprentice's heads snapped around. During the yelling, they hadn't heard the door to their cage chamber swoosh open. The big Chiss Jedi took a step into the room and the door closed behind him with a slight clang. "We're headed for Dantooine, at the moment," he said.
"Now that no one is trying to kill anyone, I thought I'd come in and see how you both are doing," he said as he walked toward the cages. "My name is Val, by the way. I don't think we've ever been introduced."
"I don't care what your name is, you blue freak," Anya said vehemently. "When I get out of here, I'm going to kill you, you know that, right?"
"I'd sure hate for that to happen, Anya," Val replied. "Personally, I'd love to see you join me on the Light Side of the Force."
"No," she replied in a low menacing voice. "I'll never join you."
"Well, if you won't turn to the light, then maybe he will," Val said, indicating Tyr.
"My father was a Jedi Knight," Tyr said coldly. "I slew him with his own lightsaber."
"Yes... I know. It was a sad day for the Order. I met Jaron before he died. He was a good Jedi, and he loved you very much, or so I'm told," Val said.
Tyr's face twisted. "That's a damn dirty lie."
"I'll admit that's possible," Val said, completely unphased. "Regardless, there are some people who would very much like to speak to you on that subject when we get to Dantooine."
Val turned and headed toward the door. He paused before leaving. "I do hope you both change your minds about joining us. I can imagine those cages are quite inhibiting. I know I'd hate to be stuck in one for a long period of time." He closed the door behind him without waiting for a response.
June 06, 2011
684. One Foot in the Door - Trychon and Raezyr
"Shut up, Trych," he said under his breath."I'm just glad I have a droid lover for a brother."
Trychon was about to retort when they noticed the tall blonde human walking toward them. He approached the table and stuck his hand out in greeting. "Alucard, Vandelay, Great to see you two, boys!"
Trychon stood and returned the handshake. "It's good to see you again as well, Mr. Helwae."
Helwae sat down and ordered a drink from the waitress who had appeared. "And whatever these gents want is on my tab," he told her.
Once the waitress had brought their order Raezyr spoke up. "Frankly, Mr. Helwae..."
"Zhan," the older man corrected. "You guys call me Zhan."
"Very well," Raezyr said, continuing. "Zhan, we're a bit surprised that one, you knew we were back on planet, and two, invited us out."
Trychon shot his brother a worried glance. The candidate sitting across from them could be a huge contact if he were to win his election, and it wouldn't be prudent to offend the man.
"That's what I like about you boys," Helwae said with a chuckle. "Get boring old business out of the way so we can get down to the fun."
He took a long pull from his glass before he answered the questions. "I've had my people watching out for you to return. Your generous donation to my campaign is almost single-handedly responsible for putting me in the lead. I'm way ahead in all the polls right now, and this is just a small token of my appreciation for you boys."
Helwae turned his attention to an alluring set of identical twin blue Twi'leki dancers who had approached their table. "Ah, this evening's entertainment has arrived," he said. "Dell and Frell Vanna. The two most beautiful dancers in this sector. Normally they're booked well in advance, but their owner is a personal friend of mine and I pulled some strings," Helwae said with a wink.
The drinks flowed freely for most of the evening and all three men enjoyed the the down time as well as the entertainment. The Vanna twins were indeed quite popular as attested by the fact that many other patrons, many of whom where unknown to Helwae, Trychon or Raezyr, attempted to join them; They were all turned away.
Eventually, the manager had to call in a Gamorrean bouncer to keep the other patrons at bay. The guard and famous dancers drew a lot of attention their way, and both Trychon and Raezyr were glad for the dark recesses of the alcove where their table was located, keeping the other customers from being able to recognize who was sitting there.
One of the tricks the two Sith had learned was to use the Force to process the alcohol in their system faster when they wanted to, allowing them to sober up very quickly, or to maintain a comfortable level of inebriation, no matter how many beverages they consumed. They found it amusing that Helwae was attempting to keep up with them, and they soon found out just how handy the ability could be.
The Sith allowed Helwae to do most of the talking, and the political candidate was happy to oblige. The drunker he became, the more freely he talked. "I love you guys... you know that?" Helwae told them.
"We're pretty fond of you as well, Zhan," Trychon replied. He figured it was better to go along than to remind him that they barely knew each other.
Helwae continued, barely noticing that Trychon had said anything at all. "It's just too bad this whole frackin' thing is gonna come to a crashing halt, ya know?"
"What 'whole thing?'" Raezyr asked, intrigued by the vague comment. Both brothers could tell there had been some underlying issue that was worrying Helwae and they figured they were about to find out what it might be.
"A'right... I'm gonna tell you guys a secret. My campaign manager tol' me not to say anything to anyone, but I love you guys.. you guys are my guys, ya know?" He leaned closely over the table before continuing. "When I was you guys's age... I killed some people."
"Things happen, and that was a long time ago," Trychon noted.
"No, no, no, man," Helwae said. "I crashed a speeder and killed the girl that was with me and two people in another speeder."
"Like I said, accidents happen and..." Trychon began, but was interrupted.
"You don't understan'... I was drunk, guys," Helwae explained. "An' I thought it was gone. Disappeared. My dad, who owned the brewery you guys bought from me at that time, paid off the families of those who died, and then a few well placed bribes... and 'Poof!' The whole incident... gone."
"So, no problem, right?" Raezyr asked. "Even if someone talks now, there's no proof, right?"
"Tha's jus' it," Helwae went on. "The incumbent for the Senate seat I'm running for somehow came up with th' case file. He knows everything and has judicial reports to back it all up. He contacted me yesterday and tol' me I have three days to withdraw from the race or he goes public." Helwae banged his forehead on the table in frustration.
During the time the candidate had been relating his story, Trychon had sobered up and quickly formulated a plan. "Zhan, what if I told you that my business partner and I could make this whole thing go away again? It can go away, and you would be completely unconnected to it's disappearance. What would you say?"
"How?" the older statesman asked.
"We have many contacts in all levels of society," Trychon explained. "Let's just leave it at that."
Helwae was ecstatic, and the rest of the evening kept thanking them profusely and telling them how much he loved them.
Later on their way back to the Farrian Arms, Raezyr turned to his brother. "Why the Hell did you get us mixed up in some political entanglement? I hate politics."
"Raez, like it or not, with power comes politics and vise versa. We're just scratching the surface of our eventual influence now... but that doesn't mean we can't get a foot up when the opportunity arises."
"Fine. That doesn't mean I have to like it though."
"No. No it doesn't, brother. You may be surprised though." Trychon turned and smiled at his brother, a little extra bounce in his step.
June 03, 2011
683. One Foot in the Door - Raezyr
Raezyr sat up and patched into the encrypted link his brother had set up so they could make contact with Dianna at the King's Lair hideout back on Hoth. It took several moments and finally he got through to some underling he'd never seen before. She was a human female about his own age who was nice enough, but clearly had no idea who he was. Despite giving all the correct passwords, she politely refused to provide any details.
"You do realize this is a private and secure channel, correct?" he asked the girl on the other end.
"Yes sir, but Captain Kingsdoom is still not available at this time," she replied.
"You might not be aware of this, but I'm a pretty big deal around here," he stated, getting a bit frustrated. "What's your name?"
"I'm Rhox Vegah, sir."
"Rhox, I'm going to need you to go get Dek, or Teera or someone who knows me," Raezyr said finally.
She agreed to do so and a few minutes later Dek's voice came on the line. "Hey Raez! How are you guys?"
"Been better, Dek... where's Dianna? The 'eff-en-gee' won't say anything other than she's 'unavailable,'" Raezyr said.
"Yeah, sorry about that. Captain Di is likely to be gone for a couple weeks and since you and Trych have been gone a while, I guess we forgot to fill her in. She's good people though," the young slicer explained. He went on to let the Sith know that Dianna was on an important job and even Dek didn't know where she had gone.
Raezyr left a message for his lover with Dek, explaining that they were alive but that they'd be tied up for a few more days. He purposely left the message vague. No need to go into unnecessary details.
The procedure at the hospital only took a few hours. They were quite shocked when he refused to be put under and instead, insisted on only a local anesthetic.
"Mr. Vandelay... you realize we're cutting your leg off, correct?" they had asked. In reply he told them to shut up and get it over with. He didn't feel it was prudent to explain that due to his wanted status within the Core Systems and Hutt bounties on his head that he wasn't taking the chance of being unconscious in strange place without his Sith brother looking out for him.
Finally the med droid that was completing the testing informed him he could leave. He looked down at his new leg and the raw, jagged line above his knee where the original leg ended and the new one began. He had to admit that it felt pretty normal, despite the shiny metal composite which now took the place of flesh.
For some reason he thought of that night back on Coruscant and the Nautolan Jedi who's leg he had cut off. He wondered what kind of a leg hers was. He dismissed the thoughts and finished getting dressed and headed back to the Farrian Arms.
Aitchkay met him in the private bay as he climbed out of the air speeder. "Greeting: Hello, Master. I hope the procedure went well."
Raezyr had a feeling the HK-51 droid was there for other purposes than to just say, 'hello,' and decided to cut to the chase. "What do you need, Huck?" he asked, continuing past the droid without stopping.
Aitchkay turned and fell in step with the Sith. "Master Trychon requested I inform you of an invitation extended to you from Zhan Helwae to join him at Club Sky for drinks."
"Zhan Helwae? That guy we bought the brewery from? The one running for some political office?" Raezyr asked, trying to remember just who the guy was.
"You are correct, Master."
"And just what was Trych's reply to the invitation?"
"He replied in the affirmative, I believe," the droid stated.
The big man shook his head and sighed. "No rest for the wicked, I guess."
The gun-metal gray droid spoke up. "That is incorrect. Master Trychon had quite a long nap while you were in the hospital."
Raezyr sighed. "Figures."
"You do realize this is a private and secure channel, correct?" he asked the girl on the other end.
"Yes sir, but Captain Kingsdoom is still not available at this time," she replied.
"You might not be aware of this, but I'm a pretty big deal around here," he stated, getting a bit frustrated. "What's your name?"
"I'm Rhox Vegah, sir."
"Rhox, I'm going to need you to go get Dek, or Teera or someone who knows me," Raezyr said finally.
She agreed to do so and a few minutes later Dek's voice came on the line. "Hey Raez! How are you guys?"
"Been better, Dek... where's Dianna? The 'eff-en-gee' won't say anything other than she's 'unavailable,'" Raezyr said.
"Yeah, sorry about that. Captain Di is likely to be gone for a couple weeks and since you and Trych have been gone a while, I guess we forgot to fill her in. She's good people though," the young slicer explained. He went on to let the Sith know that Dianna was on an important job and even Dek didn't know where she had gone.
Raezyr left a message for his lover with Dek, explaining that they were alive but that they'd be tied up for a few more days. He purposely left the message vague. No need to go into unnecessary details.
The procedure at the hospital only took a few hours. They were quite shocked when he refused to be put under and instead, insisted on only a local anesthetic.
"Mr. Vandelay... you realize we're cutting your leg off, correct?" they had asked. In reply he told them to shut up and get it over with. He didn't feel it was prudent to explain that due to his wanted status within the Core Systems and Hutt bounties on his head that he wasn't taking the chance of being unconscious in strange place without his Sith brother looking out for him.
Finally the med droid that was completing the testing informed him he could leave. He looked down at his new leg and the raw, jagged line above his knee where the original leg ended and the new one began. He had to admit that it felt pretty normal, despite the shiny metal composite which now took the place of flesh.
For some reason he thought of that night back on Coruscant and the Nautolan Jedi who's leg he had cut off. He wondered what kind of a leg hers was. He dismissed the thoughts and finished getting dressed and headed back to the Farrian Arms.
Aitchkay met him in the private bay as he climbed out of the air speeder. "Greeting: Hello, Master. I hope the procedure went well."
Raezyr had a feeling the HK-51 droid was there for other purposes than to just say, 'hello,' and decided to cut to the chase. "What do you need, Huck?" he asked, continuing past the droid without stopping.
Aitchkay turned and fell in step with the Sith. "Master Trychon requested I inform you of an invitation extended to you from Zhan Helwae to join him at Club Sky for drinks."
"Zhan Helwae? That guy we bought the brewery from? The one running for some political office?" Raezyr asked, trying to remember just who the guy was.
"You are correct, Master."
"And just what was Trych's reply to the invitation?"
"He replied in the affirmative, I believe," the droid stated.
The big man shook his head and sighed. "No rest for the wicked, I guess."
The gun-metal gray droid spoke up. "That is incorrect. Master Trychon had quite a long nap while you were in the hospital."
Raezyr sighed. "Figures."
June 01, 2011
682. Earning Their Title - Raezyr
"Being sorry for one's actions doesn't negate the consequences," Raezyr was saying as he and his brother sat down in the galley slash dining area on board the Twilight Stalker. They had left Meisos a few days ago and both brothers had spent some time under bacta therapy to give their bodies a boost in the healing process. They'd most likely have to spend some more time in the tanks, and Raezyr would need surgery to replace his destroyed knee joint, but at the moment, neither sibling felt like sitting around in the cramped tank in the med-bay.
"Oh, I completely agree," Trychon responded. "If we were to land on Coruscant right now and apologize for that incident last year (although it wasn't our fault to begin with), we'd still be arrested and sent to prison no matter how sorry we were." He reached over into the miniature refrigerator next to their table and pulled out two ales, handing one to his brother.
"It doesn't matter how sorry you are afterward. If you jump off a cliff, you'll still hit the bottom," Raezyr agreed.
Both Sith sat in silence for several moments, reflecting on their stay on Meisos. Finally Trychon cracked open his brew. "This is for Schyrt and Reed," he said.
"I'll drink to that," replied the younger sibling, and both down long pulls from their respective containers. They began reminiscing about their two assistants, and quickly realized that despite the amount of time they had spent with the two men, they really knew very little about them. They quickly grew silent again, not sure of what else to say.
Finally Raezyr interrupted the awkwardness. "Non sequitur here, but bringing up the incident on Coruscant reminded me of something: Do you realize that this is the first time you and I have wreaked this much havoc in one place since then?"
Trychon chuckled. "And this time we didn't need some elusive 'Master' to tell us to do it."
They discussed Lord Eiron for a few minutes, deciding what to do about the crystal they had acquired. As far as they could tell, their 'Master' hadn't left any instructions on what to do with it. In the end they decided two things: 1. They'd keep the crystal safe for now, and decide what to do if and when Eiron ever contacted them again, and 2. Having faced and defeated a pure blooded Sith Lord, they were pretty sure that not did they not need a master anymore, but that they had finally earned the right to use the traditional Sith title of "Darth," if they so chose.
"Darth Raezyr has a nice ring to it," Trychon noted grinning as he opened another ale.
"As does Darth Trychon," the younger sibling noted, catching the ale that was tossed his way. "And I know I've used the title in the past, but it always felt fake somehow. Hollow."
"You know... the title I want to hear next to my name is 'Lord.' Lord Trychon sounds nice, if you ask me," he said, his usual smile on his face.
"Don't get too big of a head, Trych, or someone will be likely to try and knock it off your shoulders," Raezyr warned as he reached across the table, taking a playful swipe at Trychon's head, which was easily blocked.
"Watch it, or you're likely to lose a hand," Trychon chuckled.
"That's alright, I'll just have them replace it at the same time they replace my leg," Raezyr said smugly.
"Speaking of," the older brother began. "Are you wanting to stay on Den Var long enough to get that done now? Or are you planning on taking care of that later?"
Raezyr noticed his brother's disapproving look at the second question and chuckled. After what happened last time he let his pride get in the way and ignored the injury, he couldn't blame Trychon. Of course, the difference this time was that he couldn't hardly stand on it without some sort of external assistance and walking was completely out of the question. Sure, he could wrap it and brace it, but that made him just that much less mobile. As much as he hated the thought of cybernetic parts in his body, he didn't see much choice.
"Yeah, I'll get it done there. We need to pick up Aitchkay and check on our interests there," Raezyr concluded. "And we might as well see about hiring some more assistants. Not that they'd ever be able to adequately replace Schyrt and Reed. Those guys had some unique abilities."
"Indeed," Trychon said.
Over the next several days the Sith Warriors spent more time under bacta therapy as well as studying their holocrons and Sith tomes, until they finally reached their destination. Getting clearance to land a ship the size of the Stalker on Den Var was next to impossible without needing repairs, and since it used massive amounts of fuel anyway, they hired a shuttle to come and pick them up, leaving the big capital ship in orbit around the planet.
Before the shuttle arrived, they made sure to inform the Farrian Arms that the hired ship would be dropping them off in the private shuttle bay near the top of the building to ensure they'd already be cleared to land.
An hour later, after getting the report of success regarding Aitchkay's mission, Raezyr flopped down on the big, luxurious bed in his room. He was nearly asleep when his com buzzed. "Yeah?" he said, answering it sleepily.
"I made the appointment for your knee," Trychon's voice said. "Mr. Raez Vandelay's appointment is in two hours."
Silence answered him.
"Raez?"
"I had forgotten about those stupid names," Raezyr answered finally. "I hate you, Trych... I really do."
"Oh, I completely agree," Trychon responded. "If we were to land on Coruscant right now and apologize for that incident last year (although it wasn't our fault to begin with), we'd still be arrested and sent to prison no matter how sorry we were." He reached over into the miniature refrigerator next to their table and pulled out two ales, handing one to his brother.
"It doesn't matter how sorry you are afterward. If you jump off a cliff, you'll still hit the bottom," Raezyr agreed.
Both Sith sat in silence for several moments, reflecting on their stay on Meisos. Finally Trychon cracked open his brew. "This is for Schyrt and Reed," he said.
"I'll drink to that," replied the younger sibling, and both down long pulls from their respective containers. They began reminiscing about their two assistants, and quickly realized that despite the amount of time they had spent with the two men, they really knew very little about them. They quickly grew silent again, not sure of what else to say.
Finally Raezyr interrupted the awkwardness. "Non sequitur here, but bringing up the incident on Coruscant reminded me of something: Do you realize that this is the first time you and I have wreaked this much havoc in one place since then?"
Trychon chuckled. "And this time we didn't need some elusive 'Master' to tell us to do it."
They discussed Lord Eiron for a few minutes, deciding what to do about the crystal they had acquired. As far as they could tell, their 'Master' hadn't left any instructions on what to do with it. In the end they decided two things: 1. They'd keep the crystal safe for now, and decide what to do if and when Eiron ever contacted them again, and 2. Having faced and defeated a pure blooded Sith Lord, they were pretty sure that not did they not need a master anymore, but that they had finally earned the right to use the traditional Sith title of "Darth," if they so chose.
"Darth Raezyr has a nice ring to it," Trychon noted grinning as he opened another ale.
"As does Darth Trychon," the younger sibling noted, catching the ale that was tossed his way. "And I know I've used the title in the past, but it always felt fake somehow. Hollow."
"You know... the title I want to hear next to my name is 'Lord.' Lord Trychon sounds nice, if you ask me," he said, his usual smile on his face.
"Don't get too big of a head, Trych, or someone will be likely to try and knock it off your shoulders," Raezyr warned as he reached across the table, taking a playful swipe at Trychon's head, which was easily blocked.
"Watch it, or you're likely to lose a hand," Trychon chuckled.
"That's alright, I'll just have them replace it at the same time they replace my leg," Raezyr said smugly.
"Speaking of," the older brother began. "Are you wanting to stay on Den Var long enough to get that done now? Or are you planning on taking care of that later?"
Raezyr noticed his brother's disapproving look at the second question and chuckled. After what happened last time he let his pride get in the way and ignored the injury, he couldn't blame Trychon. Of course, the difference this time was that he couldn't hardly stand on it without some sort of external assistance and walking was completely out of the question. Sure, he could wrap it and brace it, but that made him just that much less mobile. As much as he hated the thought of cybernetic parts in his body, he didn't see much choice.
"Yeah, I'll get it done there. We need to pick up Aitchkay and check on our interests there," Raezyr concluded. "And we might as well see about hiring some more assistants. Not that they'd ever be able to adequately replace Schyrt and Reed. Those guys had some unique abilities."
"Indeed," Trychon said.
Over the next several days the Sith Warriors spent more time under bacta therapy as well as studying their holocrons and Sith tomes, until they finally reached their destination. Getting clearance to land a ship the size of the Stalker on Den Var was next to impossible without needing repairs, and since it used massive amounts of fuel anyway, they hired a shuttle to come and pick them up, leaving the big capital ship in orbit around the planet.
Before the shuttle arrived, they made sure to inform the Farrian Arms that the hired ship would be dropping them off in the private shuttle bay near the top of the building to ensure they'd already be cleared to land.
An hour later, after getting the report of success regarding Aitchkay's mission, Raezyr flopped down on the big, luxurious bed in his room. He was nearly asleep when his com buzzed. "Yeah?" he said, answering it sleepily.
"I made the appointment for your knee," Trychon's voice said. "Mr. Raez Vandelay's appointment is in two hours."
Silence answered him.
"Raez?"
"I had forgotten about those stupid names," Raezyr answered finally. "I hate you, Trych... I really do."
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