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.

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.

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.

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.

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."