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Coruscant. 5 BBY. 7:30 pm.
My team’s task was supposedly simple. Get into the Grand Belkir Theatre, kill the Imperial officers, and get out without anyone noticing.
Marvi figured that this would be the easiest time to attack. The two guys were relaxing at a show and wouldn’t have weapons or armor. The theatre didn’t allow any weapons or tools in, and it’d be too dangerous, considering the massive and diverse population of people here on Coruscant.
“Ugh, just my luck.” I groaned as the hovercraft landed on the top of the building. A few drops of water hit the brim of my hat. “First mission, and it’s already raining? What else could possibly go wrong?”
Lightening struck a nearby skyscraper. Everyone jumped slightly, myself included.
“Ah, don’t be so neurotic, dude. It’s just a bit of rain. If anything, they’ll think we’re some rich patrons who got stuck on the trolley last minute?”
Sam was a scrapper from Corelia, and he’s been the only person not to treat me like an absolute noob. Maybe it’s because he’s only as high as I am. But Marvi seems to like him for some reason. Perhaps it’s because he can, in his own words, “talk a Loth Cat off a Bantha-meat wagon.”
The doors to the hovercraft opened, and Marvi and Possie stepped out. Possie had a sniper rifle strapped to her back and looked just as tired as ever.
“Ah, there you are! Ready to take ’em out if we can’t?” Sam asked, fiddling with one of the buttons on his jacket. I wasn’t used to seeing him in such regal attire, and I hoped he wouldn’t pop the button off the jacket before we got in to see the show.
Possie nodded, her lekku twitching in apprehension. She had a calm demeanor, but she was sweating through her bandana. I couldn’t blame her; this was a big job for us. The guys we were supposed to be taking out were extremely high on the Imperial ladder. Our client paid us an insane amount of money to ensure they fell in any way possible. That’s how we got these authentic outfits for the theatre. Sam and I needed to blend in to take them out up close. Hopefully, quietly too, as we didn’t want to risk any negative publicity. These guys may be war criminals, but murder is still a crime.
“You know the plan?” Marvi asked. She had her goggles on, but I could tell she was eyeing us both, checking over every detail of our outfits to ensure it was correct.
“Aye. Get in, enjoy the show for a tad, kill the buggers, and get out. Easy.”
Marvi snorted and crossed her arms. “Yeah, that’s the basics. I need you two on your best behavior. Our client was able to get seats in the box with them, so there’s gonna be a maximum of ten feet between the four of you. Murk ’em around intermission, but don’t wait until the show’s end; otherwise, Leni won’t be able to pick you up and fly you out. Got it?”
Sam and I both nodded our heads.
“Hey, did the client ever mention what they’d look like? The people we have to… you know…”
I made a slicing motion across my neck.
Marvi chuckled and handed the both of us matching tickets. “Nah, but he said you would know once you saw them. Plus, the four of you’ll be the only ones in the box; it’ll be hard to miss ’em, you dig?”
“Aye, we dig.” Sam smiled, looking over the ticket. He adjusted the silver and green ring he always wore. That was his tell during card games. “We should get going. Don’t wanna miss the start of the show. I’ve been meanin’ to catch this one anyhow.”
“On your salary, Sam? Forget about it. Enjoy though. We’ll see you in a few.” Possie joked before waving us down into the elevator.
The inside of the theater was beyond luxurious. It was something I was used to, sometimes. I’d grown up on Alderaan my whole life, and being the child of a lesser ambassador, I’d had access to small privileges that helped me get into better schools and see cultural exhibits throughout my youth. It might puzzle some what the child of a lesser ambassador would be doing with a mercenary vigilante group on their way to upset the status quo, but I had my reasons.
My father was an ardent supporter of the Empire. He constantly told us how their regulations and “values” would be great for the galaxy. It would help “get rid of” any “unwanted people” and save the galaxy. I knew when he said that he meant pirates that hijacked stores and jetliners, but many other people and I knew deep down that the Empire was a blight on the galaxy. They killed and destroyed just about anything and everything they touched. They’d accused one of my old classmates of being a Jedi. I knew she wasn’t, but that didn’t matter for the Inquisitor that took her away. I didn’t see her after that. No one did. We didn’t know exactly what became of her, but there were many, many guesses.
I packed my things and ran away from home not long after. I had accumulated a decent bit of money from an internship I’d done during school, and off I went. I’d heard about a small group of people intent on rebelling against the Empire, so I booked a ship heading in their general direction. I ran into Marvi and Sam not long after in a small canteen on Naboo, and now here I am, about to commit first-degree murder during the height of arts and culture.
The usher quickly led us to several flights of stairs with elegantly carved wooden banisters. By the time I came to the top, I was wheezing.
“Gods above, couldn’t they make the elevator go to our floor? What insane torture is this?!”
As if some god had heard my plea and decided to be a bit cruel, I stepped onto the landing, and my footing slipped. I was about to fall face-first into the marble flooring, if not for a strong arm wrapping around my waist.
“Oh! I got you! Are you alright?” A male voice asked, gently helping me to my feet.
I was pleasantly surprised and joyful to not find myself with a faceful of stone and even more at my savior. He was a handsome, if unnaturally pale, man dressed in a blue dinner jacket and matching pants. He let me go quickly, and I smoothed out my outfit, doing my best not to make eye contact, and I knew my face was red with embarrassment.
“Ahem, yeah. I’m fine. Thank you.” I murmured. He smiled down at me, and my red cheeks turned to a flushed expression when I realized how tall he was.
“Aye, I see you’ve made it. Who’s this?” Sam’s very distinguishable voice asked as he reached the top of the landing.
The man and I turned to face Sam.
“Oh, no one in particular.” The man said, dismissively waving his hand. “Just another patron of the arts.”
I eyed the man again, trying to figure out if I had seen him before. There was something familiar about his face. High cheekbones, strong jawline, and skin that was not unlike the marble I was standing upon. I swore I’d seen him somewhere, maybe on an Imperial leaflet? Many higher-ranking Imperial officials came here to relax before going to their high-class bars to unwind, so it wouldn’t be too strange.
“Oh, there you are, Cyrus. I was looking for you.” The man spoke as he turned away to an opening door. Another man in a dark blue suit jacket came from the elevator, hidden behind the wall. In stark contrast to the paler man’s calm but sharp appearance, this man had two large scars running down the left side of his face and had an imposing aura like he would attack without any notice. I only realized I’d been holding my breath when he, in turn, spoke.
“Yeah, sorry. Went to the bathroom and got lost. Who’s this?”
“Oh, no one special!” I squeaked out, “Just on my way to the theatre. I’m so excited for the… play!”
“The opera?” The pale man asked.
“Yeah, that!”
I desperately wanted to leave. I side-eyed Sam hoping he’d step in, but he just hid a sly smile.
Both men looked at each other and shrugged.
“Well, do enjoy.” The taller of the two smiled as he gave us a little wave. “Maybe I’ll see you again soon.”
The two men darted down the hallway to one of the many theatre boxes, and Sam and I breathed collective sighs of relief.
“Fuck.” We both said in unison. I turned to him and grasped him by the shoulder.
“Gods, your first real mission, and you’re already stiffing up? What’s Marvi gonna say about that?” Sam goaded as he nudged me in the side.
I straightened my posture and composed myself, taking a deep breath and wishing sincerely for the strength to not smack Sam upside the head.
“Well, at least we know what we’re about to watch. Sort of.”
I glanced down at my ticket. The show began in ten minutes.
Sam and I soon found ourselves in front of the correct door. I wished Marvi had given us better instructions than just “do your thing.”
As I placed my hand on the door handle, I wondered who our targets would be. Whoever they were, they could afford the costly seats. But thankfully, the expensive seats came with added privacy, so maybe we’d be able to get away with this after all.
I turned the door handle and pushed. Sam and I stepped into the box, and I almost gasped at seeing the main theatre room for the first time. Golden inlays over dark wood and alabaster. Carved statues lined the theatre stage and a full orchestra below. It was stunning beyond belief. I’d never seen anything like this on Alderaan before.
“Oh, long time no see.” A familiar voice laughed. I turned and nearly bit off the tip of my tongue. It was the two of them. Just my luck, the guy that saves me from going to the hospital is the one I have to put in a body bag by the end of the night.
“Huh? Oh yeah, the one who almost dove down the stairs.” The other man, who I remembered was referred to as Cyrus, said in a vaguely mocking tone.
“Hey! I thought you wouldn’t tell anyone!” I stared at the paler man, who gave me a slight smile and another dismissive wave.
“Apologies. I figured you wouldn’t be sitting next to us. You’ll be a nice change of pace, though. I guess the old couple who usually books those seats couldn’t make it.”
Sam swept by me and took the aisle seat, cutting me off from the other two. He turned to me and spoke in a hushed whisper.
“You okay with all this?” He asked. “You’re not feeling any special emotions for the guy?”
I heard Sam speak, but I was still thinking about the other man’s words. It was just regular conversation, but how he spoke was… strangely disarming. Maybe it was his kind eyes. I shook my head and myself back to reality and leaned in to talk to Sam.
“Yeah, nah,” I confirmed. “Dude’s our target, and I figure the guy he’s got with him is our other mark. Marvi is sure this is them? The Imperials? They don’t really… look the type.”
I’d been accustomed to seeing Imperials everywhere I went. The officers were usually old men with stuffy accents and rigid postures. These guys were anything but. They both seemed no older than their early to mid-twenties, and they casually relaxed in their plush velvet seats, in direct contrast to the taut composure of everyone around us in other boxes. They both chatted casually with each other, exchanging smiles. They seemed to be good friends or at least very close acquaintances.
“Ah, you can never really know with these bastards. Some of ’em hide in plain sight. Marvi’s sure it’s them, though. Or at least, the client is.”
“And how does the client know? Are they someone from the rebellion?”
Sam shrugged and leaned back in his seat, glancing at the targets.
“Dunno. I reckon it’s one of the nobles who want to get rid of the guys in charge. Or maybe it’s another Imperial officer trying to pick off their competition.”
“Excuse me!”
Sam and I turned to face the voice. It was the pale man again.
“Sorry to bother the two of you, but you wouldn’t happen to know where they’ve moved the concession stand to? I usually grab a snack before these shows, they can go on for quite some time, and I haven’t had a real, proper meal in a long, long time.”
He said that with a smile that made me think he was joking about that last point, but Sam spoke up before I could embarrass myself any more.
“Ah, no, sorry, my friend. We’ve just moved here from Naboo, so we don’t really know where anything is.”
The pale man gave us a silent thank you and leaned back to speak with his companion. I wondered what the pale man’s name was. He seemed to be the more affable of the pair. The other man, Cyrus, was giving us both a very harsh but amused stare from across the box. He seemed to be staring into my soul before I turned away to study the fine details of the wall.
The show began in earnest, and I found myself enjoying a great deal of it. I couldn’t understand a single word being said, but the melodies and the people singing on stage were simply delightful. Even through the sopranos belting their solos, I could pick up bits and pieces of what the men across from us were discussing. I could finally discern that the pale man’s name was Atticus. Nice name, very smart sounding. They were definitely Imperials; I heard Darth Vader’s name mentioned no less than five times in their conversation.
I reached across my side to where I had stashed my knife. If these guys were human, which our client had projected they were, then they’d go down without a fight. Imperial officers weren’t known to be especially physically impressive; they spent all their time in offices and labs, running experiments and overseeing the deaths of planets and civilizations.
I knew Sam had a blaster under his jacket. Marvi bribed the guards with the money she got from the client to not check either of us on our way in. It’d be pretty hard to kill the officers with our bare fists, let alone do it without making a sound.
“So, during intermission?” I asked, turning away from the woman on stage who bawled over her dead husband. “Which one do I take?”
“Well,” Sam began, “Since you seem to like the taller guy, you can take him. He seems lanky; you’ll probably just be able to dart him and slit his throat.”
I nibbled on my tongue as I thought. “Maybe we should do it during the applause? Be easier to mask the gun sounds that way?”
Sam shrugged and adjusted the blaster under his coat. “Hey, however you do it is up to you, dude. I’m just trying to get this done so I can go home and watch the holotube.”
I peeked over at the targets again. I studied their outfits, trying to discern whether they had any weapons. I didn’t even realize how long I’d been staring until I glanced upwards and saw Atticus staring back at me, his head still pointed towards the stage, his eyes locked on me. Upon recognition that I’d seen him see me, he smiled and gave me a sly wink. I sat back upright in my seat, staring straight ahead, my heart pounding. What a stupid move. Maybe he’d just think I was into him or something. Wouldn’t be too far off from the truth...
Sam decided to strike during intermission. As the opera’s second act concluded, Cyrus immediately got up and left the box. Sam gave me a quick thumbs-up before he, in turn, got up and left. I silently prayed that everything would go smoothly. I assumed he’d be doing his task while the two were in the bathroom. Would that be bad? There were a lot of people who’d go to the bathroom during intermission. But I’d remembered seeing a private bathroom just for the boxes on this floor, so maybe there’d be fewer people there to witness the crime.
So then, it was just me and Atticus, alone in the opera box. I clasped my hands together tightly, trying desperately to figure out what to do. Dank farrik, I wish Marvi had given me better instructions. I barely knew how to tie my shoes, let alone murder another man in cold blood. I kept glancing over at Atticus, trying to discern his moves. He seemed to sit calmly in his seat, staring out over the massive audience below us. He seemed relaxed, like he wasn’t about to die.
Time passed, and neither Cyrus nor Sam returned to the box. The intermission ended with the dimming of the lights, and the opera began again. Atticus and I looked at the door to the box and gave a mutual shrug. Neither of us seemed to know where our respective companion was at. But my heart was once again pounding in my chest. Sam should’ve been back; he shouldn’t be late. How hard was it to kill some stupid Imperial?! Alone in a bathroom, no less?! I knew I should make my move now while the lights were down and everyone was waiting for the music to begin. I needed to find Sam urgently and get out of there as soon as possible. I reached under my shirt and gripped the handle of the knife but then-
“So I’m not the only one thinking it either, right? We’re worried about our friends?” Atticus asked, suddenly turning to face me. I quickly let go of the knife and casually scratched my arm to save face.
“Um, yeah, I am.” I quickly responded. “Shouldn’t they both be back by now?”
Atticus shrugged and looked to the door. “My friend hasn’t always been the most punctual, but this might be a new low for him. I paid a lot to get all of our tickets.”
I looked at the four seats in the box. Were there more people joining him later? That would definitely complicate things. I needed to act fast.
“We should go look for them then! I’ve seen this part of the play already, and I can just… watch it on the holotube later!” I piped up, hoping that he’d take my suggestion. The idea of killing him in this open space was making me break out into hives. So much could go wrong!
To my surprise, Atticus nodded and got up from his seat. He opened the door to the box for me, and we were let out into the hallway. It was so silent I could hear both of our breathing, and whispers from the other boxes and music from beyond the walls were the only sound. We both looked at each other, then for any sign of our friends. I couldn’t stop feeling on edge. Cyrus had an aggressive, threatening aura, but the sheer lack of aura from Atticus somehow made him even more intimidating, like there was no way to read what he would say or do next.
“They couldn’t have gotten far. The intermission was only fifteen minutes.” Atticus said as we walked down the hallway. As we passed the men’s bathroom, Atticus peeked his head inside and called out for his friend. There was no response, aside from another gentleman who seemed to be late back to his box.
“I’ll be back in a moment; I need to wash up a bit,” Atticus assured me. He stepped into the bathroom, and the heavy wooden door swung shut behind him. I gulped hard and continued my search for Sam. Who knows, maybe if I found him still battling Cyrus, two would be better against one.
At last, I came upon an open door on the other side of the men’s room. The inside was a boiler room of some sort. The whirring mechanical parts and steam bellowing from vents seemed so out of place in a theatre as grand as this. I peered further into the room and saw a cross-section that led to a hallway.
But I nearly screamed when it. Nearly out of view in the hallway was a bloody, mangled hand with a green and silver ring on its middle finger.
But just as I had seen it, the hand was dragged out from sight. Without a second more hesitation, I whipped the knife out from under my shirt and sprinted into the boiler room.
“SAM?!” I whispered at the top of my lungs. “Sam? Is that you?”
I rounded the corner, and Sam was nowhere to be found. It was quiet, aside from the pounding of the boiler behind me and my heart. I gripped the knife’s handle tightly, scanning the dim environment for any sign of movement that wasn’t steam. As I moved forward, I felt my shoe kick against something unseen. I bent down and picked up Sam’s silver and green ring. There was dried blood covering the bright green stone, and I stopped myself from tearing up right then and there.
“Sam! Where are you?!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a figure dash through the shadows. I immediately ran after, chasing the shadow down the increasingly complicated back hallways.
The shadow finally collapsed against a wall, and I rounded the corner to see the shadow. It was Cyrus, bloodied but alive. He was white-knuckled gripping his side as blood stained his white shirt. Gasps and wheezes filled the room as he slumped down to the dirty metal floor. He finally saw me in the dim light of the fluorescent bulb overhead.
“Ah, fuck.” He murmured. “I figured it was the both of you. Couldn’t just be one of you, huh? Gonna make my life… life difficult?”
“Only as difficult as the people’s lives you’ve destroyed, Imperial scum.” I grinned as I held my knife at arm’s length.
Cyrus’ face quickly changed to one of mirth before he started quietly laughing to himself. His laughs were replaced promptly by coughs as more blood dripped onto the floor.
“Well, fuck, man, you got me!” Cyrus exclaimed, raising one hand in surrender. “You know, you’re not the first rebel to come at me? But I gotta say, that fucking idiot with the gun was probably the trickiest I’d taken in some time.”
I took a few cautious steps forward. “What did you do with him?”
Cyrus put his hand down and shrugged. “Does it matter, kid? You got me here in the corner all bloody like a wounded animal. Kill me already; I can’t handle the shame of losing to someone who isn’t a fellow Sith.”
I froze in place. “A what?”
Cyrus’ head tilted in interest. “You’ve never heard of us? We’re-”
“I know what Sith are! You just don’t… look the type.”
“That’s because he’s not.” Another voice came from behind me.
I spun around and instinctively swiped with my knife, but the approacher deftly avoided it. It was Atticus. Before I could make another move, he quickly walked around me and bent down to inspect Cyrus’ wounds.
“I told you, my friend, you can’t keep lying like this. We can’t have the wrong impression of the Sith going around the galaxy. Look how you’ve carried yourself! You shouldn’t still be losing to scrap like this!”
“Hey!” I yelled. My voice ricocheted off the stone walls and rang in my ears. “I’m not scrap. I’m the rebel who’s going to send some Imperial officer scum to Chaos.”
Both men looked at me. It was basically one-on-one at this point, and Cyrus seemed too incapacitated to put up a real fight. Plus, I could hold my own. That was why I was selected for this job.
I held my knife at the ready. I expected Atticus to attack me at any moment. But he just smiled. It wasn’t an especially evil-looking smile, but it made me feel shaky. Did we have the right guys? Cyrus seemed like a supervillain in training, but otherwise, I felt like evil Imperial officers should be more… evil… or something. Atticus just seemed like a regular dude, not some terrible overlord.
“At least tell us who sent you.” Cyrus gasped as he slid up the wall into a proper sitting position. “You know, before my master kills you.”
Atticus grinned again and pinched Cyrus’ chin. “Aw, I never get tired of hearing that, you know. But our assailant has no need, my friend, I know who sent them.”
Just as Atticus finished speaking, the already dull ceiling light burst and rained down a short shower of sparks, leaving the three of us in a pitch-black room, save for the glimmering reflections from the machines behind me.
“A mystery client, yes?” Atticus’ voice came from the dark. My heart felt like it was going to explode, and I struggled to control my breathing. Part of me wanted to sprint back towards the exit and tell Marvi that the mission was a success. But I remembered Sam and how hard we’d worked already to get where we were. There was no giving up now!
But before I could, the room was instantly aglow with blood-red light. The bright crimson saber lit up the entire room, casting Atticus’ charming face in a terrifying light. His once pleasant smile now carried a sinister glare. He was slightly hunched over, unable to stand to his full height in the shallow room.
Almost ruining the tense atmosphere, Cyrus groaned loudly and snorted. “By the gods, master, was this your version of some really expensive take-out?”
Atticus turned and began to giggle in turn. He was quickly dropping his calm, collected demeanor. “Yeah, you can call it that. I called the one group I knew would send some tasty idiots my way. You’re all so horny for murder, yet you couldn’t muster the courage to kill me properly?”
“Tasty?” I whimpered. If that was a lightsaber like I’d heard about, my knife would be pitiful in comparison.
“Of course.” Before I could blink, Atticus stepped forward and slashed his blade against mine. The metal of my knife immediately gave way, and the molten metal burned into my hands. I screamed as I tried in vain to wipe it away on my pants, dropping the handle to the ground. I stepped backward and tripped on a raised brick, falling flat. There was no escape, and I couldn’t find my way back through the tunnels, much less outrun the two of them back to safety.
“Oh, come now,” Atticus consoled in jest as I began to cry. “Don’t be like that. I’ll make it quick. It’s other Novalians who like to play with their food. I just like to eat.”
I backed up as much as possible but could barely make out what was being said over my pounding heart and ragged breath.
Atticus smiled down at me from the light of his saber, and in the murky light, it looked as if his face was contorting. His eyes were wide enough for me to see the whites on all sides, and his once friendly smile elongated up the sides of his face, stretching into an unholy grin. As he spoke and brought the lightsaber closer to his face, I could see just how long his canine teeth really were, and as he spoke, his long, pointed tongue lolled out of his mouth, salivating.
“It’s like I told you before, I haven’t had a real, proper meal in a long… long time...”
— Fin —
