Chapter Text
CHAPTER I. THE ELEVENTH BROTHER
On this night, there would be no peace on the desolate moon of Aubrr. Not so long as the whispers of a red blade filled the damp and dirty backstreets of the capital city. These secret talks occurred amidst the secret deals and trade. Credits weren’t the only thing being exchanged in these hideaway alleys. Under the shield of night, the dwellers of the alleys had other agendas.
Toss Camphor (or at least, that was his name today) carefully sidestepped the few blinking streetlights and practically hugged the wall. The frigid, night air made his stubble tingle. He raised his hand to scratch it, but lowered it. If any passerbys saw he had a stubble, that would match a lot of descriptions- if his crime made the news cycle. He slowly lowered his hand to his side, and pulled his backpack closer. At a time when most people had retreated to their homes, Toss was wide awake. He wasn’t sleepy, and he certainly wasn’t intimidated by whispers of a red blade. On the contrary, he was more awake than ever.
Toss turned into a back alley, behind a cantina that was quiet. He clung to the brick walls, keeping his head down. He knew what was good for him. Making eye contact with the wrong guy could lead to both being sore the next day. Toss wet his lips and stared into the dark alley ahead of him. He could use a light, but that would get eyes on him. No, there had to be something more subtle. He slowly rested his gloved hand on the wall. He walked down the alleyway, his fingers feeling the predictable grooves between the bricks. Every little inch of it felt the same. The bricks were littered with marks and blaster holes, and Toss didn’t even bother to question the slime on some of the bricks. For a trashy back alleyway on some forgotten planet, it all felt boring and unremarkable.
Until it wasn’t.
A thin line in the wall carved out a large rectangle. The hidden door. Barely distinguishable, unless you knew what to look for. Toss checked over his shoulder then slid the door to open it. He briskly stepped inside, closing the door after him. In a rush, he threw off his hood and ran a hand over his bald head. He took a breath, looking ahead of him.
A group of men, huddled around a table, turned to him. One was a Rodian, and the other two were human. “We have to call this off,” the Rodian said in a hushed voice. His voice was eclipsed by the clamor of people outside, all talking about a red lightsaber.
“Why?” Toss questioned, gently putting his bag on the table. “I have the items you requested.” He didn’t even bother to lower his voice.
“Keep your voice down,” one of the humans whispered. “Haven't you heard?” Toss looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “An Inquisitor is either already in town, or coming here. Someone must have talked to the Empire. We have to call this off. For everyone’s safety.”
Toss laughed. “Are you kidding me? You really think an Inquisitor would bother coming to this garbage planet for what, a couple of blasters that aren’t up to code?” There was an affirming silence from the other three men. Toss frowned and unzipped his bag. “Wow, I thought you rebellion folk were all about standing up to the Empire. Sticking it to the big guy, you know?”
“We are,” the Rodian replied, raising his voice a tad. His voice was rising to the level of the people outside, whispering anxiously about bucketheads and a figure in black. “But, we know when a fight isn’t worth it, and when a fight is. Moreover, I’m the brains of this operation and I’m not one to risk lives for tools, Camphor.”
“Well, I wouldn’t call this a tool,” Toss pulled out the contents of his bag and laid them on the tables. Blasters. Largely unmarked and modified. Not a ton of blasters, but they were modified enough to pack a punch. “More of an asset. I hear these things could take down a lot more than just bucketheads. Now, do you have my credits, Brains?” He looked at the Rodian impatiently, folding his arms. The four men stared at each other, silently. The silence outside added a layer to the awkward air enveloping the four.
“Credits or not, bucketheads aren’t what I fear,” the Rodian said, his voice returning to a quiet whisper. “And if you had the slightest bit of wisdom—” He was interrupted by the third human chucking a heavy backpack to Toss. The bag clinked as it hit the table. Toss unzipped the bag and grinned. An army of silver and golden credits met his gaze. “Brantz!” the Rodian yelled.
The third human, Brantz, met the Rodian’s glare. “He got us what we wanted. The rebellion will be thankful, and I would like to return to my family sooner rather than later, Captain.”
“Thank you for your business,” Toss said, dumping the credits into his backpack. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be returning—”“ he turned on his feet, eyeing the door.
“Wait!” the Captain suddenly interrupted, then covered his mouth. Toss rolled his eyes, and turned to the rebels.
“Yes?” he asked, barely looking at them.
The Captain widened his eyes, and pointed at his two men. He shook his head, then mouthed, “Turn off the lights. Hide.” Brantz paused, before ducking behind a doorway, while the other man hit a switch. Two other two hid behind a table. The room fell into complete darkness. Toss couldn’t see his hand in front of his face even if he wanted to.
“What are you—-” Toss stopped. The men had come to some realization. The clamoring whispers of nervous smugglers, criminals and whispers had diminished in the alleyway. Only now, a dull repetitive thudding grew louder and louder.
Something was wrong.
“That can’t be-that isn’t—” Toss suddenly yelled, stumbling back. The thudding crept closer.
“Shut him up!” Brantz shouted, still in a whisper. The Captain briefly considered shooting the man, but even that was beyond his morals.
The thudding grew louder and more imposing.
“No no this isn’t right!” Toss shouted, burying his face in his hands. “I have so much life to live!” Brantz pointed his blaster at Toss, but froze. There was once again a silence. No clamoring. No voices. No thudding. Just nothing.
Toss looked up to the men, a wide grin plastered on his face. “You’re not rebels. You’re idiots.”
The hidden door opened, but there was only darkness. The crisp night air filled the room. And for the last time that night, there was silence.
A red blade flicked on and outlined a figure. A tall figure, in black armor with a black mask, stepped through the doorway. The mask was contorted into a permanent glare. The red blade purred with anticipation.
“Fire everything!” Brantz shouted. A storm of blaster fire ascended on the figure. With a few, effortless twirls of the lightsaber, all the shots were deflected. The figure raised his right, gloved hand and shoved the rebels into the wall. If they weren’t knocked out cold, they were certainly too delirious to attempt an escape. Stormtroopers filed into the room and made a beeline for the rebels. They were cuffed in a matter of moments.
“Eleventh B-Brother!” Toss mustered, that wide grin still on his face. “I’m the informant. Those are the rebels, the traitors that I made the false deal with. And those are the weapons on the table! The ones they wanted!” Toss’s eyes lit up.
The Eleventh Brother turned to look at him, the visor of his mask reflecting Toss’s giddiness. “When will I, uhh…” Toss began, “when will I receive the reward for arranging the rebels to be here and informing the Empire of their location?”
The Eleventh Brother didn’t say anything for a moment, instead, he stepped towards Toss. His boots thudded against the weak wood floors. “I commend you for informing the Empire of these nefarious traitors,” the Eleventh Brother said, his gaze not leaving Toss. He stepped closer.
“Thank you.” Toss grinned. “So um, the reward credits, when should I expect that?”
The Eleventh Brother turned the lightsaber in his hand. “You harbored illegally modified weapons. You transported them. You offered to sell them to rebels, and you expect a reward?”
That grin was gone. Suddenly, Toss’s face was pale. His eyes were wide, but this time with fear. He began stumbling back, feeling for something - anything - to latch onto. His hands started shaking, and he dropped the backpack of credits the rebels had given him. “I…uh…”
The Eleventh Brother’s lightsaber ignited. “No…you were sorely mistaken.” The move that killed Toss was swift, so fast it was easy to miss. Toss fell to the ground, with a fresh lightsaber wound in his chest and his eyes still wide.
The Eleventh Brother de-ignited his lightsaber, turning to the stormtroopers. “Return those men to the shuttle. They’ll be transported to an Imperial prison after we return to Nur.”
“Without…trial…?” Brantz said softly, as he was forcibly hoisted to his feet.
A stormtrooper laughed. “The courts are too busy. Besides, we caught you in the act.”
“Sir,” one stormtrooper, the Captain, approached the Eleventh Brother. The Eleventh Brother turned to the trooper. “How shall we escort the prisoners back to the ship?”
“Escort them down the Main Street of the city,” the Eleventh Brother said without so much as a pause. “Let the people see what happens when you try to go against the Empire. I will follow behind.”
“Yes sir,” the stormtrooper said, and they began their parade.