by Scott Baron
She was good with a shimmer cloak. Very good, in fact, though nowhere near the master Ghalian’s level of skill. Hozark could utilize his at a full run, wielding spells and weapons, no less, while she needed to remain nearly still when others were close by to maintain her invisibility.
It was something that came with practice and age, and Master Hozark simply had more of both. But that did not matter at this moment. The mission was squarely in her hands. She would make her way to Visla Sunar’s private chambers while Hozark did his best to impersonate the dead Tslavar captain.
No pressure.
Visla Sunar kept Hozark waiting for only ten minutes when he and Uzabud arrived in the smaller dining hall they’d been directed to. As it was an intimate affair, and one the visla had not been planning on, a less resplendent setting would suit them just fine.
The interesting thing about this particular situation was that Hozark had quite unexpectedly placed himself in the perfect position to eliminate Visla Sunar. This deep within his compound, the assassination would be a very feasible thing, and none would be the wiser until he was long gone.
But Sunar was not a contract, and the Ghalian did not kill randomly. Someday, that job might come their way, but until that time, Visla Sunar would live.
It was not lost on Hozark that for this rescue of their annoying comrade, he had stumbled upon an unusually fast and efficient means into the visla’s grounds. It was the sort of thing that would often take months of planning, steering the pieces from systems away until they all lined up just right before he could act. A plan more difficult than the killing itself.
But Laskar was leading a charmed life, it seemed––aside from the capture and torture, that is––for they had found a way to reach him in record time. And more than that, it had actually worked. And while eliminating a contracted target, no less.
Demelza had taken the side corridor toward the visla’s private chambers as soon as Hozark and Bud had passed her, but the visla had several wards and booby traps laid on the approach. They weren’t difficult for the experienced assassin, but they took time, for she had to reset them after she passed each one, hiding her entry should any follow in her wake.
Hozark would be dining with the visla for at least another ten or fifteen minutes, she figured. Of course, that was assuming the man had kept his guests waiting, as was almost always the case with men of power such as he.
Bud, standing quietly against the wall near his master, was carrying weapons secreted on his person should they be required. Once again, none thought to even look at the lowly slave.
The master assassin was fortunate, however, that Visla Sunar was somewhat distracted by other things on his plate, and the thought of casting probing spells that might pierce Hozark’s disguise had not even crossed his mind.
For one, he knew Captain Dortzal, and that was indeed his ship parked outside and his crew recreating nearby. And on top of that, there were a dozen new Ootaki in his possession now, and despite the price paid for them, they were not the sort of thing an impostor would part with easily.
And so it was, they had casual chatter over a light meal. It was apparent the visla had other guests awaiting his attention as well, but he did his best to at least give the bearer of such valuable merchandise enough time to make him feel special.
Everyone had to be made to feel special, he had learned. It fostered loyalty and goodwill, and though he really didn’t give a damn about anyone but himself, some things had to be done in the interest of expanding his power. This was simply one of them.
Two-thirds of the way through their light repast, a servant––a well-dressed woman not wearing a control collar, Hozark noted––entered the dining hall and whispered in the visla’s ear. The visla’s face remained impassive, but his guest had been at this game a long, long time, and reading microexpressions was as second nature as breathing for him.
“I’m afraid I am needed,” Visla Sunar said, rising from his seat. “Please, make yourself at home. Enjoy the grounds, perhaps utilize the spa facilities. I have some wonderful masseuses on hand who can relieve all manner of tension.”
“Thanks,” Hozark said in Captain Dortzal’s gruff voice. “I may just do that.”
The visla nodded once, then turned and left the room, his retinue following behind him until all that remained were Hozark and his faux slave.
“A bit early,” Hozark noted. “But it should have been enough time. We should head to the dead drop straightaway. If she succeeded, the marker will be there.”
He rose and strode from the chamber, Bud close behind. They crossed the nearby inner courtyard, reaching the bust of Visla Sunar. There at the base was a tiny marking, no more than a smudge. But to Hozark’s eye, it was a welcome sign.
“Success,” he quietly said as he obliterated the mark with the toe of his boot. “Come, slave, we have things to do.”
Chapter Fourteen
The door had barely closed and the sound-dampening spells secured in place when Bud shed all pretense of a demure slave and began pacing the room like a caged animal.
“Okay, we have to get the hell out of here. You saw that, right? That was not normal. Did you see how she whispered in his ear? He knows, Hozark. I’m telling you, he knows.”
“Relax, my friend. If the visla suspected anything, we’d have likely engaged in battle right then and there. I agree that it is entirely possible that there is something afoot on his grounds, but we are not the cause for concern. At least, not at the moment. And by the time we are, we shall be long gone.”
“How can you be so sure? We don’t even know if Demelza’s been caught or killed! Oh my gods, what if that’s what it was all about? What if they––?
“Bud, please,” Hozark calmly interrupted. “Really, you are beginning to whine as badly as Laskar. Using an expression you are so fond of, please chill the fuck out.”
Bud froze, his expression trapped between shock and amusement. Finally, the latter won out, and he burst into chuckles. Hozark, the stoic, deadly, quiet master assassin, had just made a funny.
“Okay, okay. Message received,” Bud said, regaining his composure. “But we need to contact Demelza and have her speed up whatever she has planned.”
“Bud, please,” Hozark replied. “She has already completed her task.”
“I’m sorry, she what?”
“Demelza has freed Laskar and is awaiting us in an antechamber just down the hallway.”
“You didn’t tell me anything about us meeting in another room.”
“No, I did not. Had you been captured, you would have likely been unable to withstand the visla’s torture. And, as you know, you cannot disclose information you do not possess.”
Bud blinked. “You thought I might get tortured?”
“It was a possibility. You are carrying a variety of weapons, after all.”
“That you told me to carry. And you didn’t think to warn me about this?”
“Again, had I done so, your attitude would have reeked of paranoia and drawn unwanted attention,” the assassin replied. “Uzabud, you are a trusted companion, and one of the best pilots, pirates, and smugglers I’ve ever known. But your acting skills? Let us just say there are still a few areas in which your abilities could use refinement.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Honesty is far more useful than empty flattery. Now, let us cease this chatter and make haste. I need to help her apply a disguise to Laskar to aid in his escape.”
Hozark and Bud stepped into the hallway once more, the faux Tslavar captain strolling casually as if he and his servant were merely out for a relaxing walk of the grounds. Three minutes later, they arrived at a nondescript door just past a servants’ storage area.
The tiny smudge on the floor disappeared beneath Hozark’s boot as he quietly knocked twice, then once, then three times. The door opened, and he and Bud quickly slipped inside.
“Laskar! You’re okay!” Bud exclaimed as he wrapped up his copilot in an enormous
embrace. The man may have been in his mid-thirties, but his demeanor was nevertheless that of a far younger man. Sadly, so was his maturity at times.
“Hey, easy there,” his rescued friend replied. “Don’t bruise the merchandise.”
Bud pulled back with a little chuckle. “Sorry. Are you hurt?”
“What? Oh, no, nothing like that. I’m okay.”
“He was in good condition when I found him,” Demelza noted. “No obvious signs of torture. The visla is a talented man, and his magical violence does not leave marks.”
“We would do much the same,” Hozark noted as he studied the man. “So, you are in sound enough condition to walk?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Laskar replied.
“Good. We need to apply a few layers of disguise spells on you before you make your exit from the compound. I’m afraid as a non-Wampeh, this may hurt a little.”
“How bad can it––Holy shit!” he blurted as the first spell took hold.
“I warned you,” Hozark said, uttering the next spell, fixing the altered visage in place. “It will hold up to close scrutiny by all but the most powerful of users, but only for a short while. You and Demelza will have to make haste in your exit.”
“Hang on. We’re not going too?” Bud asked.
“We have things to do first, Bud. And you are Captain Dortzal’s slave assistant. I’m afraid I shall require your presence at my side to complete the disguise.”
“Well, shit,” Bud grumbled. “I guess we’d better get to it, then.”
After a few more minutes of unprofessional grousing, Laskar was thoroughly changed in appearance. Where the man was a tall and fairly handsome fellow under normal circumstances, he now sported the visage of a much older Bantoon.
Making his skin appear blue and loose, as that species’ flesh so often was, had been relatively easy. Altering his height, however, had required a bit of finagling. Finally, his body had bent as required to fit the visual output of the spell. It would not be comfortable, but if all went according to plan, he wouldn’t have to stay in costume long.
“We will meet you at the ship as soon as we are able,” Hozark said as Demelza and Laskar prepared to leave. “The corridor through the servants’ quarters will bypass the regular security posts and deposit you in the marketplace.”
“Won’t they be checking us?” Laskar asked.
“They only check on the way in,” Hozark replied. “Those who make up the innermost staff have a certain degree of freedom of movement once within the walls. It is only when entering from the outside that they face true scrutiny. The regular cells are on the other side of the compound, and aside from that location, people would normally try to break in, not out.”
“Come on,” Demelza said, opting for a servant’s disguise rather than her shimmer cloak. “Keep your mouth shut and let me do any talking. We could change your appearance, but I worry your voice may still sound like you, and we don’t know who would take note of that.”
Fortunately for her, they were largely able to avoid any conversations with other staff on their way through the servants’ areas, though one curious older woman did inquire who these two newcomers were.
The busybody. Every estate seemed to have one.
Her explanations were good, and any other would have been satisfied and let the newcomers go about their work, but this particular woman continued to poke and prod. Demelza could not tell if she sensed something wrong or not, but time was of the essence.
“Inoculo termus,” she hissed, the almost silent spell striking the older woman down with a terrible, body-shaking trembling.
“Someone, help! She’s having an episode!” Demelza said.
Staff came running, as expected, giving the assassin the opportunity she needed. “We’ll get help!” she said, then took off at a hurried pace with Laskar following close behind.
A few minutes later, the woman and man who had gone to get help were out of the estate and nowhere to be found.
Chapter Fifteen
Hozark and Uzabud were clear across the facility, heading toward the exit into the outer courtyard where Captain Dortzal’s massive ship was resting.
“We are done here,” the disguised assassin barked to the men standing guard at the ship’s entry. “Notify the crew on leave. They are recalled immediately. We are departing at once.”
“Sir?” one said, puzzled.
“Yours is not to question. Only to obey, is that clear?” was the snarled reply.
“Of course, Captain,” the man said, his back stiffening to attention.
“Good. The visla should have provided me my new toy by now. Has she been brought to my quarters?”
“Uh, I’m not sure, Captain. We’ve only been on duty for an hour.”
Of course, Hozark knew full well when the shift change had occurred, and he was now using it to his full advantage.
“No matter. She will have been delivered by now,” he said with a lustful grin. “When the crew has returned, we are to liftoff and make for Sinthall. I will be in my quarters, and I am not to be disturbed until we arrive. Is that perfectly clear?”
“Yes, sir,” the men replied.
Their captain had a new toy aboard, and he was going to be putting her to good use, it seemed. The flight to Sinthall was a long one, and would afford him plenty of time to recreate to his heart’s content.
Hozark strode through his ship with purpose and was about to step aside and alter Bud’s appearance to aid in his escape from the ship when an unexpected youth rounded the corner. It was bad timing, but there was little that could be done.
“Captain. You’re back early,” young Tür said.
“I am. My business is done here.”
“But didn’t you want to––?”
“I said my business is done,” he repeated far more forcefully.
“Of course, Captain. Apologies.”
“You are to go to the command center and relay my orders, Tür.”
“But I am new. Perhaps one of the more senior––”
“This is how you move up in this world,” Captain Dortzal growled. “You don’t wait for opportunity, you seize it. You want to be a captain yourself one day, do you not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then start acting like it. Now, go tell them to set course for Sinthall. I want five jumps, back to back. And before you say it will wear out the Drooks, I know that. But it’s good to give them a little run every so often, just to keep them on their game. I’ve been too easy on them of late. On all of you, for that matter.”
Hozark leveled a firm stare at the young Tslavar. Yes, this had worked. The lad would do as he was told with no further questions.
“Go. I am to be left undisturbed until we arrive.”
Tür nodded once and took off at a double-time run to inform the command center crew of the captain’s orders. He actually seemed like he might have the stuff to make a captain one day, but Hozark would be nowhere near when that happened. And the youth would quite likely not survive that long.
He pulled Bud into the captain’s chambers and spoke the words to remove the collar from his neck.
“It’s about time,” he said, rubbing where the metal had rested.
“Shh. Hold still,” Hozark said. “And do not make a sound.”
Bud had done this before, and he knew it was going to suck. But unlike Laskar, he bit his tongue and remained silent while Hozark worked his magic. A few moments later he looked like a Tslavar.
It wasn’t Hozark’s best work, but given the rush with which everyone was returning to the ship, he wouldn’t face much scrutiny at all. And on a craft of this size, new crew was coming aboard with some regularity.
The assassin then slid into his shimmer cloak and opened the door. The coast was clear.
“Go. I will be right behind you.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Bud replied to the thin air.
The shimmer offered an additional degree of safety as they made
their escape. Should Bud be stopped for any reason, Hozark could strike out of nowhere, eliminating whoever stood in their way and clearing their path without breaking stride. But they made it off of the ship without incident.
“Just making a last rounder to be sure there are no stragglers,” Bud said to the visla’s guards as he stepped outside the gates leading toward the city.
The men merely nodded. A steady stream of Tslavar mercenaries had been returning to their ship, so this was not unusual in the slightest.
Bud ducked down an alleyway once they’d made it into town, where Hozark removed the disguise from his friend and restored him to his normal appearance.
“Oh, that’s much better,” Bud said with a sigh. “That is really uncomfortable, you know.”
“I do. And you are far more professional than your friend.”
“He’s just new to it, is all.”
Hozark was too professional to roll his eyes, but Bud knew he was doing it on the inside.
The pair walked the marketplace and casually made their way out of the center and toward the shimmer-cloaked ship parked not too far away, just as Demelza had left it prior to beginning their mission. Behind them, Captain Dortzal’s ship lifted into the sky and pulled up through the exosphere, where it then jumped away in a magical flash.
The unexpected departure would be a source of much discussion when the visla’s prisoner was discovered to have gone missing. Soon, all eyes would be looking for that ship, and the multiple linked jumps would make it both hard to find, as well as reinforcing the impression that the good captain was running from Ahkrahn.
The ship would be found eventually, of course, and Visla Sunar’s men would undoubtedly slaughter the Tslavar crew without mercy. None could anger the visla in his own system with impunity, and an example would have to be made.
Perhaps a few would be allowed to live. The youngest and least seasoned, most likely. But that would simply be to bear witness to what was done and give warning to any who would think to do likewise.