Blood Brothers 2000 short story by Mark Newbold Seven years after Episode IV – A New Hope Brush Galletti watched the suns set slowly
over the horizon and sipped his Ccaala juice as the stars began to awaken and cast their
light across Lake Morbia. The shrill sounds
of nocturnal creatures within the forest edging the lake began to echo through the dusk,
and as the stars shone to their full luminescence he wondered whether he had ever seen a
sight as lovely. Aayala, his beautiful young wife, left the
confines of the kitchen and joined him on the long porch that led to the jetty and their
boat, safely moored and hovering just centimetres above the cool waters. She placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed
gently. He allowed a sad smile to smooth
across his mouth and took her hand. They
both watched the lake for a quiet minute.
“Twenty years,” he began softly. “Twenty
whole years. And I can still see their
faces.”
“Of course you do. How could you
ever forget them.” Aayala sat beside
him, her hand still entwined in his. “”Twenty,
fifty, one hundred years. It won’t
matter how long it is. You’ll never
forget.” Brush raised his eyebrows and smiled a wan
smile, the moonlight from Morb glinting into his dark eyes, his raven black hair as black
at the age of twenty-five as it was the day he was born.
So far away, on Trefnare. The snapping of twigs betrayed the
presence of a third person moving onto the porch. Brush
turned in his seat. Visits were rare this
time of year; the vacation season didn’t start for another two months, which meant it
could be one of only two people. He waited
for the figure to leave the shadows cast by the moonlight and step into view. His two surviving brothers looked much the same.
“Boah.” Brush smiled and
stood to receive his elder brother, his hand thrust out to shake. Boah ignored the hand and embraced Brush in a
fierce hug, the intensity of which took the younger man by surprise. He moved back to look Boah in the eye. “How are you?
I didn’t hear you land, where have you parked?” Boah ran his fingers through his
shoulder-length hair and grinned, chewing on his bottom lip as an expression of
embarrassment took hold.
“Nowhere. Had to get a transport
this time.” He looked across the waters
in the silent moonlight as he placed his hands on his hips. “I kind of…lost my ship.” Brush frowned.
“How?”
“In a game.”
“A game? Of what? Life, death or Sabacc?” Boah raised his hands in defence.
“Hey, it was a matter of life or death.
Mine. Either I paid Kray Oupone there
and then or it was curtains for this Galletti. Let’s
face it, there aren’t too many of us left. If
we came in six-packs I might have done something a little different, but…” He
trailed off as he realised he was rambling. Brush
smiled and clasped his shoulder.
“Well I don’t care how you got here, I’m just glad you did. We missed you last year. It wasn’t the same without you.” He watched a gloriously feathered bird, its
plumage glowing in the sky, trail away to its nest. “Or
without Goah.” Boah raised his eyebrows in agreement and
moved to greet Aayala with a hug and a kiss. She
returned both and turned to Brush.
“I’m serving the evening meal in fifteen minutes.” She looked at Boah.
“I know you boys want to talk. There’s
a bottle of fresh Ccaala on the back table. Don’t
drink it all at once.” She lifted
Brush’s empty glass and walked back down the porch to the kitchen. They watched her go and then sat. Boah leaned forward.
“How’s it been out here? Busy?”
“Yeah, in the summer, when the tourists want to see the suns shine off the
lake. It’s a great place to get a
tan.” He smiled at his brother. “You can visit us more than once a year you
know.”
“I know. But you know how it
gets. The days go so fast, then the months,
and before you know it a year has gone and we’re here again. Remembering.”
“Remembering.” Agreed Brush. He nodded to himself and breathed deeply, the
pine-fresh air a tonic to him. He loved
Morb, the radiant beauty of the landscape, the crispness of the air, the isolation from
the madness of the Setnin Sector. He loved
the tranquillity and the independence this job had given him. He was his own man, nobody else’s, and life
was conducted to his tune. He wondered if the
same could be said of his brother. Of either of his brothers.
“I was sixteen when it happened. Just
about to get my first ship. Of course,
Hindley had his, but this would have been my first. Mine,
no one else’s.” The brothers smiled at the memory of their
elder brother Hindley, killed at the hands of the Empire in mysterious circumstances
almost a decade before. A fun-loving man who
was sorely missed by the three brothers. Brush
shook his head. Ten years since Hindley
died. Twenty years since…
“Of course, he let me use his ship. I
had to persuade him, but he gave in.” Boah
grinned. “I never did tell him about the damaged power conduits though. Or the fried auxiliary coils on the Wooden Doll,
or the sensor suite on the Galaxion.” He
smiled. “I guess he found out.”
“Yeah. He didn’t miss much. Galletti’s rarely do.”
“No,” Boah cut in. “Some
Galletti’s miss a lot. Too much. I know Goah has a reputation to protect, but this
family matters. It should come first,
especially at a time like this.” He
turned to gaze at the moon. “It did
before. That’s how we survived the
invasion. And twenty years later it’s
just you and me. Remembering.” Brush paused, about to reply and decided
against it. He stood and walked to the back
table, picking up the Ccaala juice and two glasses. He
poured the drinks and handed one to Boah. Boah
sniffed it suspiciously and took a sip. He
frowned at Brush.
“Fruit juice? Aren’t we a
bit old for soft drinks? Where’d you mix
this, in a blender?” Brush shook his head.
“Keep sipping bro. I guarantee
you’ll be blended by the end of the night.”
He seated himself again. “I see
what you mean about Goah. He’s been here
on this day once in seven years. Time was you
couldn’t keep him away, I saw him all the time.
And then…” He shook his head again in dismay. Boah raised his eyebrows in agreement.
“I know. He changed. Something happened to our brother, something
big. And whatever it was, he’s not been
the same since.”
“But what? What could have
affected him in such a way? He used to
arrange this. Get us together, make all the
plans. Hell, he even used to travel out and
pick me up.”
“Should have got yourself a ship.”
“And what, lose it like you have?” Boah thumped Brush on the arm and the
younger brother rolled with it, a laugh piercing the night.
“Sarcasm will get you bruises little brother.” Boah sipped his juice. “Yeah, Goah was always the organiser. But now, we just don’t figure in his
equation. Too many jobs to do for Cipple. Too many hits to nail.” Brush sank his drink and poured another,
refilling Boah’s as he did so.
“That’s a bit hard. He was
always a loner. Remember when the three of us
shared that room? He still managed to make
his bunk his own. Remember the drapes he
fixed to his bunk?”
“The ones we stole from the market? With
that motif on it, what was that?” They paused in thought as they delved into
their past. Brush snapped his fingers.
“It was a phoenix, loads of them. He
always had a thing about them.”
“Yeah, he did. Still does I
guess.” Boah grinned. “I see him around. In the smuggling
business it’s hard not to hear the rumours.” Brush crossed his legs.
“What rumours? We’re out of
the loop here. The last newscast we got said
that the Death Star was destroyed.”
“Which one?” Boah caught
himself as he realised his brother was fooling with him.
“Nice. Anyway, travelling as wide
as I do you hear stuff. Lots of stuff. I was out in the Quarshannel Sector a few weeks
ago and I started to hear stories about him. Word
is he offed Torona Formoon.”
“Formoon? The ganglord? You’re kidding.”
“No, and that’s not all. Do
you know what they call him out there? Guess.” Brush pondered the question for a second
and thought deeply. Moments later he shook
his head in defeat.
“Could be anything. What
then?”
“`The Invisible Death’.”
“What?!”
“And in the Brother Sector they call him `The Blood Drinker’.” Brush frowned and took a deep breath.
“Why the freck would anyone want to be known as the Blood drinker? Or the Invisible Death?”
“Or `The Shadow’. That’s
what they call him in the Ki-Ki Sector.” Boah
raised his palms. “Who knows. All I know is that Goah isn’t the brother we
had twenty years ago.”
“People change Boah.” Boah stood, drink in hand. He turned away from Brush and watched the moon.
“I know as well as anyone about people changing. We all change.” He turned and grinned at Brush. “Even I’ve tried to change. Yeah, me of all people. I have a son, did you know that?” Brush stood to his feet in shock, his
drink spilling across the wooden porch floor.
“A son? Boah, I had no
idea.” Dazed, he reached out his hand to
offer his congratulations. “You’ve
made me an uncle. You’ve made Goah an
– “
“A what? An uncle too? I don’t think so Brush. You, you’ve never been anything but honest
and loyal. But Goah? Time was he’d stick his neck right out for
me. Be there to bail me when I screwed up. But now? Sure,
if I’m in a spot he helps me. What else
would he do? But Kessik’s uncle? No. That’s
an honour you have to earn. That’s the
Trefnarian way, and it’s a tradition I won’t set aside just to keep the
`Invisible Death’ sweet.” Brush lowered his hand and closed his
eyes. This day was of great importance to
both brothers. It was the day their mother
Gres and father Drate had died, along with their infant sister Weale. Smashed to oblivion on an asteroid while escaping
their homeworld after the Imperial invasion. The
four brothers survived, living aboard the Phoenix, doing smuggling runs to make
ends meet. Hindley oversaw their ascent into
adolescence and adulthood, before his own untimely death.
Boah had been next to go, starting his career as a con merchant and smuggler and
swiftly gaining a reputation as a troublemaker and n’eer do well. A year later Goah followed, travelling to Arrarat
and soon meeting his future wife Tref Goodman. Which
left Brush and Hindley, and after Hindley’s death Brush decided to live o the quiet
world of Morb, where he met his wife Aayala. But
right through every trial and tribulation the remaining brothers always met on that day,
wherever necessary. Of late, that location
had been tranquil Morb. Only during the last
seven years had the date not been kept by the three men.
Occasionally Boah had been late, or had to send his apologies, but he never forgot. At worst a letter-search or a conversation over
the com. And even if he wasn’t
present there was always a place setting for him. As there was for Goah, Hindley, Weale,
Gres and Drate. A table for seven. Brush forced himself back to the moment as
Aayala stepped out of the kitchen and rang the dinner chime.
“Come on boys. Enough talk. It’s time to remember.”
“Well, if I knew how royalty ate I’d say that was fit for a king. But as I don’t I’ll just thank the cook
with a kiss.” Boah leaned across the
table and planted a kiss on Aayala’s cheek. She
grinned and gathered the empty plates, dropping them into the sink and activating the
water. She dried her hands and allowed the
service droid to continue with the dishes.
“It’s 26.45, I’m off to bed. Boah,
it’s always good to see you.” Boah stood.
“And you, sister. Thanks for the
meal.”
“Anytime. And congratulations. I’m sure you’ll make a great
father.”
“And you a great auntie.” Aayala smiled and left the two
Galletti’s alone. Brush edged to the rim
of his seat.
“It’s late and you’ve had a long trip. Do you want to turn in? We can talk more in the morning.” Boah shook his head and leaned against the
tabletop.
“I’m afraid not. My
transport leaves in the morning and it’s a ten kilometre walk.”
“Don’t be crazy, I can take you in the T-16.” Boah grinned.
“Bro, I live my life in a starship cockpit.
How often do you think I get the chance to just walk through a forest?” Brush nodded and stood, walking across the
kitchen to another cupboard.
“Well, if we’re here for the night we might as well share another
drink.” The two brothers talked through the night,
about their past, their present. About
Boah’s hopes for his sons future. About
how Brush one day longed for a family. About
their mother and father, their lost sister and lost brother. Lost brothers. They talked till the sun announced its
imminent arrival with the calls of the forests avian populace and the glow in the low
skies. The brothers leaned against the
doorway of the kitchen, where they had spent most of the last seven hours. Brush looked at his brother and cocked his head.
“Perhaps he’ll come next year.” Boah grinned at his younger brother.
“Ever the optimist, eh? Well
don’t you ever change.” He ruffled
his hair in a brotherly show of affection. “What
would I do without your level head?”
“Probably lose a lot more than your ship.” Boah gathered his belongings, took the
bottle of Ccaala juice Aayala had left for him and placed it in his backpack. He hefted it on and turned to Brush.
“Keep in touch.”
“I will Boah. After all, looks
like you, me and Kessik are the last of the Galletti’s now.”
“And don’t you forget it.” Brush watched Boah disappear into the
early dawn, the virgin light of a new day breaking over the forest. He took a deep breath of the morning air,
folded his arms across his chest and entered his home. Goah waited till the last glimmer of the
stars faded before he left the cover of the bushes. His
mind raced with questions, longings and confused thoughts.
Once he was a Galletti. One of four, a
true blood brother. But now?
Now he felt only the loneliness of the assassin, the anticipation of the hunt. And his brothers?
They could have their remembrances. He didn’t need them any more. Blood Brothers 2000 short story by Mark Newbold Seven years after Episode IV – A New Hope Histories
– The final story of 2000,
written on the 31st December. This
Mark Newbold tale shows some of the effects that the Goah clone had on the remaining members of the Galletti clan, namely his two brothers Brush and Boah. Hiding in the bushes, the clone remembers much
of his genuine predecessors past but holds none of the emotion or feeling for it. Cast of Characters Brush Galletti Boah Galletti Aayala Galletti Kessik Galletti Goah Galletti |