The Vespus Blade

by Scott Baron

  All that the trailing men could do was quickly bind those who had fallen––and were still breathing––and collect their weapons. By the time they reached their friends standing over Gantz in his office, the man was bleeding from the nose, bound to his chair, and entirely devoid of his prior aggressive demeanor.

  It seemed that when faced with not one but a pair of Wampeh Ghalian, and Ghalian he had so recently imprisoned and threatened, no less, he became quite the trembling coward. And the poor man now realized their capture was almost certainly because they permitted it rather than through any skill of his own,

  It was a somewhat nasty discussion they had with the captive man. Perhaps a little rougher than needed, truth be told. But Gantz was more than just a source of information. He was someone they didn’t like. It wasn’t personal, but it still was, at least a little.

  He gave up the name of the person who hired him almost immediately. Given his resources, and the likelihood of him posing a threat in the future, those were his final words, and his body would not be found.

  It was a quick flight to the nearby world the man who hired him was located on, and that one was not expecting company. He was taken completely by surprise, and without a fight, and was downright eager to tell these mysterious assailants whatever they wanted to know.

  He was then stunned and packaged up, handed off to a Ghalian agent on that world to be transferred to the same holding facility as the others. As for Kalama, she had already been bundled up and taken as well. No loose ends to talk. No one around to even hint at their plans.

  “Well, that makes your head spin, doesn’t it?” Bud said with a perplexed laugh.

  “That it does, my friend. That it does.”

  “So, he was also hired.”

  “So it seems.”

  “He was hired to hire the person who was hired to hire the person who hired the person who made the contract. Damn, that’s just crazy. I mean, who’d have thought? And we’re still not at the head of the snake yet.”

  “Indeed. It is most perplexing. Perplexing, and yet impressive in its thoroughness. Someone went to great lengths to ensure they would not be found out.”

  “No shit. I tell ya, Hozark, if it keeps up like this, the Ghalian holding facility is going to have a whole menagerie of messengers pretty soon.”

  Hozark nodded with a somewhat amused grin. Little did they know how accurate that assessment would prove to be.

  Chapter Fifty

  More than a half dozen leads.

  More than half a dozen new prisoners sent to the secret Ghalian holding facilities.

  It had been a mess. A busy, hectic, time-consuming mess.

  They’d followed the leads presented by each successive target, chasing down the next link in the chain leading back to the original contract maker, sometimes literally, the pursuit spanning cities, planets, and even systems on one occasion. That particular target had nearly slipped by them, and it was only Bud’s brilliant flying that had allowed their capture.

  The whole ordeal had taken them weeks, and none of them had been simple. And though differing levels of interrogation had been needed, every single one of them had essentially the same story. They’d been hired for just one task. To hand off a package to the next person in the chain. Nothing more, nothing less.

  They didn’t know what the package they were carrying contained, or even the name of its recipient for that matter. Not until they opened the sealed letter within their own package that they’d been handed by their courier. And that was only opened upon arrival on the next recipient’s world.

  And so it went. And it turned out that each successively smaller package contained the same instructions for the next person. Deliver the package inside, then go back to your life. And that was what each of them had done.

  “A double-blind method of engaging an entire network of unwitting couriers,” Demelza mused as they reviewed what they knew thus far. “It is a rather clever way to ensure one’s anonymity.”

  “Yes, most clever. Ingenious, even, though also quite a time consuming process. Someone went to a great deal of effort to achieve this goal. It was not a casually planned attempt,” Hozark said.

  Bud leaned back in his seat, thoroughly enjoying the seemingly rare bit of downtime, given the flurry of activity of their past weeks. They had another lead to follow, but for the moment at least, they could enjoy a tiny moment to themselves before diving back into the pursuit of the truth.

  They hadn’t drained the Drookonus powering Uzabud’s mothership, but if this kept up, with this many jumps so close together, Hozark wondered if he might have to tap into his emergency backup cache to help the man continue to fly them on their task.

  At least Bud was in good spirits. The frustration of this seemingly endless chain of couriers continually springing up was wearing on them all, but it was amazing what a simple bit of self-enforced downtime under pretense of giving their Drookonus a break could do for one’s spirits.

  It was why Hozark had suggested it. Under the guise of a necessary stop to prevent the device from overloading, of course. No one wanted to be the one taking a break when there was work to be done. So Hozark gave them an excuse. And all were perking up for it.

  Especially Bud, who had been so focused on his flying after the one man’s near escape, Hozark actually worried what effects of such constant focus might have on the man.

  “Casual? Hell, this was clearly a Council attack. I mean, from what we heard about what went down, it seems pretty obvious. The number of power users who attacked them? No way it’s anything else. No one has those kinds of resources.”

  “I’m afraid I must agree with Uzabud,” Demelza said. “Someone planned this out long in advance.” She paused, giving Hozark a sympathetic look. “Someone who understands the Ghalian.”

  “Samara?” Laskar asked. “You think it was Samara? I shot her down.”

  “You shot down a craft. We never saw who was inside. Or if anyone was, for that matter,” she replied.

  “Good point. And she is the only one I can think of who could have pulled off this sort of thing. And from what Hozark says, she’s had what, ten years or so to plan it?”

  “I still do not believe her capable of this degree of treachery,” Hozark said.

  “She tried to kill you, man,” Bud reminded him.

  “Yes. But only when I was on task to slay her employer, Bud. Remember, I sought her out, not the other way around.”

  “Which doesn’t change the fact that she tried to kill you. Like, not playing around, actually tried to kill you. Mel, back me up here.”

  “I must admit, he is correct in that aspect,” she agreed. “Having watched the two of you battle, I can say with confidence she was pulling no punches.”

  “Of course not. And I’d expect no less of her. But, again, it was I who forced her hands into action that day.”

  “Yeah, man, but there’s no wrath like your ex’s wrath,” Bud noted.

  “She is not my ex. We grew up together within the order. We were close because of it. And, yes, there were times we were intimate. But we were not bonded.”

  “I didn’t think you guys ever got your freak on,” Laskar mused. “That must be some kinky, violent, scary shit.”

  “Dude, please,” Bud grumbled.

  “What? You know you were thinking the same thing.”

  “Yeah, but how about a little tact?”

  “I prefer being blunt and to the point, thank you very much.”

  “We’ve noticed,” Demelza said. “There is not an ounce of subtlety or tact within you, is there, Laskar?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But I can sure fly a ship.”

  They all hated to admit it, but he was right about that. His piloting skills were on point, and they were fortunate the normally reclusive pilot had happened to meet the man and agreed to take him on as a copilot.

  That temporary alliance had blossomed into a full-fledged partnership, and though he annoyed Bud to no end, Laskar a
lso gave him a skilled backup. Something that let him take his eye off the ball for a few moments from time to time. Something he hadn’t even realized he needed.

  “So, about your not ex,” Laskar said. “You gotta admit, it really seems like she’s the only one with the knowledge and skill to pull this sort of thing off.”

  Hozark paused, mulling over their situation a long moment. “She left me––the order––ten years ago under the guise of her own demise.”

  “Right, and now she’s getting even,” Laskar said. “Right, guys? I mean, it makes total sense.”

  “No, it does not,” Hozark said. “Had Samara wished for revenge for some unknown reason, I can assure you, we would have heard from her long before now. Someone else is in play here. So, we keep digging.”

  Demelza was ready for it. They’d already paused long enough, and she was anxious to continue the hunt. Bud and Laskar, however, looked as if they had deflated, just a tiny little bit.

  “All right. I’ll fire up the Drookonus and get us underway,” Bud said. “I just hope we get to the end of this chain sooner than later. This shit is getting old.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  The prior couriers had been vastly different sorts of people. A socialite, an agent, a mobster, and so on. No real defining thread to bind them, aside from the tasks each had been retained to do.

  After weeks of running down leads, sometimes literally, the group was more than a little tired of the seemingly endless stream of lower-tier lackeys.

  “We need to finally hit something concrete, or I’m gonna kill someone,” Bud lamented as they flew to their next destination.

  “Isn’t that their job?” Laskar joked, nodding toward their Wampeh associates.

  “At this rate, I might give them a run for their money if our luck doesn’t change.”

  Hozark looked up from a parchment he had been studying with a curious expression lingering on his face a moment, then rolled it and tucked it away once again. The Wampeh Ghalian had been contacted for a bit of assistance from their network, and that assistance had come. Their spies had located the person whose name did not exist, it seemed.

  The message had been delivered in person, as was the order’s way in all but the most absolutely unimportant communications. Skree calls could be intercepted––though the general public believed that form of magic was tamper-proof––and only face-to-face meetings were truly secure.

  The Council of Twenty had kept the skree vulnerability secret a long, long time, and only a tiny handful of them even knew it existed. But the ability to listen in to any conversation they wished was something they wanted very much to keep under wraps. A tool that could be incredibly useful in a moment of crisis.

  That the Wampeh Ghalian also knew of this exploit was an even closer guarded secret. One that had dictated they continue to use what seemed like outdated methods to communicate.

  “Uzabud, I think you will like what I am going to tell you,” Hozark said. “Though its ramifications we do not yet fully know.”

  “What do you mean? What did your Ghalian buddies have to say?” Laskar asked.

  “The name our last target revealed to us did not exist. No one had ever heard of them.”

  Bud rolled his eyes. “And this is supposed to make me feel better, how, exactly?”

  “Because our spies are very, very good at what they do, Bud. As are our Ghalian brothers and sisters and allies who are secretly embedded in a great many of the Council’s strongholds.”

  “You have spies in Council facilities?” Laskar asked, surprise on his face. “Well why didn’t you say so earlier? We could have used them.”

  “Because they are in deep cover. Some for years. Those are not resources we call upon lightly, lest we burn their identities over a trivial matter.”

  “But this isn’t trivial.”

  “No, it is not. And Corann reached out to them on our behalf.”

  “And?”

  “And our people have found out the true identity of the man who contracted our last target. And with that bit of knowledge, we are, in fact, heading into a far more dangerous situation than any of our prior leads have taken us to.”

  “What am I flying us into?” Bud asked. “I just cast for the coordinates you gave me, but you didn’t say anything about––”

  “It is okay, Uzabud. Our arrival will not be the dangerous aspect of this mission.”

  “So, tracking down this scumbag is,” Laskar said. “Great. Who are we going after this time?”

  “A man by the name of Drazzix.”

  “Emmik Drazzix?”

  “You know of him?”

  “Of course I know the guy. Drazzix the Terrible? Drazzix the Stone Fist? Drazzix the Crusher of––”

  “We get the point, Laskar,” Bud said.

  “What I’m saying is, the guy’s a high-ranking lieutenant in the Council, and one hell of a target.”

  “Your assessment is accurate,” Hozark noted. “And he is a rather potent emmik possessing some degree of power. Not visla level, of course, but significant nonetheless.”

  “Obviously more than a lackey, then,” Demelza mused. “This is good. If any were to have actual useful information this one would.”

  “Uh, hello? You’re forgetting the whole Council enforcer thing, aren’t you?”

  “Dear Laskar, we have dealt with Council issues in the past, and this will be no different,” she replied. “Just wait until we reach his system and land. All will work out for the best. You shall see.”

  Uzabud had drawn no attention to their ship when they arrived in the Council-controlled system, flying in the calmest, unnoteworthy and relaxed manner possible. He was just another ship landing on just another world.

  A world overseen by an emmik who had killed dozens of his pirate brethren and hung their preserved bodies out along the ramparts of his stronghold as a warning to any others who might come to his world looking for an easy score.

  Not just his city, but also his planet was protected, and there would be no repeat warnings.

  They set the ship down in a landing field in an industrial section of the city. It would take a little longer to arrive at the walls of the emmik’s abode, but that would give them a bit of time to get a feel for the city and ask questions of the locals as they drew closer.

  It was a surprisingly bright place, the sun’s yellow rays casting a warm light that lasted nearly through the night. It was a fluke of the world’s poles that had it canted at such a degree as to only let the sun set for a mere few hours every night.

  It was a trait of this world that made agriculture a booming business. It also meant a stealthy approach to the moat-protected grounds of Emmik Drazzix would be nigh impossible.

  Between the guards patrolling the grounds, the vast, watery gap separating his estate and the rest of the city, and the pair of Zomoki standing guard at the front gates just across the lone long bridge, entering this place would be no easy task.

  “You were saying?” Laskar said to Demelza, a victorious look plastered to his face when they had completed their circuit of the city and arrived at a discreet alleyway looking out onto the moat. “Not a problem, right? It’ll all work out for the best, right?”

  Demelza merely shrugged. “I appear to have been mistaken. This emmik is far better protected than those of his rank should be.”

  “Yes, it is more than a little disconcerting,” Hozark noted. “And also quite intriguing, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Oh, indeed.”

  “And there are additional wards along the cliffs above the moat––do you see them?”

  “I did note them when we first arrived, yes. As well as the irregular shifting of the guards at the bridge and gate. And the Zomoki appear to be a particularly nasty pair,” she added, just as one of the great winged beasts belched out a stream of magical flame, charring the ground beside the bridge.

  By the look of the blackened terrain, it was a regular habit of this particular creature. Pos
sibly out of boredom, but more likely because the magical control collar around its neck urged it to periodically let out a fiery blast to give any would-be intruders second thoughts.

  “We must complete a full loop of the compound. Demelza and I will circumscribe the moat in opposite directions,” Hozark said. “We will then meet back here to go over what we have managed to learn.”

  “And us? What about us? Do we just sit around and do nothing?” Bud asked.

  “No, Bud. You and Laskar will buy a few simple items in town, posing as travelers new to the world. Purchase foodstuffs and strike up a conversation with the shopkeepers and casually mention the stronghold and the man within. Perhaps you will get lucky and glean a bit of useful information for your troubles.”

  “So, you go do deadly spy stuff, and we go food shopping?”

  “More or less,” his Wampeh friend replied with a toothy grin.

  “You’re a dick, Hozark. I ever tell you that?”

  “On a regular basis,” the assassin chuckled. “Now, you’d best get to it. Demelza and I will take our time in our survey, but even, so it should not take terribly long, and I would very much like some sustenance waiting when we return.”

  Bud let out a frustrated groan. “Such. A. Dick.”

  “You keep saying. We will see you shortly,” Hozark replied, then the group split up and went about their tasks, as stealthily as they could in this dangerous city.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  “They’re really big,” Bud said.

  “We saw, Bud,” Hozark replied.

  “Really big. And they eat people. A lot of people.”

  “Yes, we heard.”

  “And there’s only one bridge to the compound.”

  Hozark sighed and took another bite of the local pastry the duo had procured from a nearby vendor. “Bud, are you going to keep reciting things Demelza and I noted on our survey, or do you have any relevant new information for us?”

  “He’s just reiterating the key point here,” Laskar chimed in. “Namely, that there’s pretty much no way in through those gates if they don’t want you to pass. And this won’t be like that time you snuck past those Zomoki in stolen Tslavar cloaks.”