Space Assassins: The Complete Series 1-5, page 52
“The look in her eyes? Yes, it seems likely.”
“And about those eyes,” Hozark said, voicing what they had both been thinking. “You saw the stars in them, Demelza. The sparkle. It was not a figure of speech in her case.”
“It has always been a rumor. I never believed I would actually see anyone with the anomaly. But could it mean she truly does have unknown powers?”
“Time will tell, my friend. But it seems clear that if there is a gift that accompanies those eyes, Henni is not yet aware how to utilize it.”
“Perhaps we can help teach her.”
“If only we knew the first thing about them ourselves,” Hozark replied. “But for now, we keep a close watch over our little friend and do what we can to help her fit into her new role while she is with us.”
“She had a very solid lead on the one who likely left that note for Emmik Ozman,” Demelza said. “That was an impressive bit of intelligence gathered by a young, untrained woman. I think with our help, she will fit in just fine.”
“Indeed. And now, we have a great deal of work to do. The visla’s child is out there somewhere, and we have a task to complete.”
“I think it is likely time we summon Uzabud and Laskar, wouldn’t you agree? I have a feeling we will be needing their assistance in the coming days.”
“More likely than not,” Hozark concurred.
He retrieved their long-range skree and sent a message to the former pirate, wherever he may be. Then they waited.
The nature of a skree’s magic was simple. It communicated with other skrees within its magic’s range. Typically the same solar system, but occasionally all the way to extra solar bodies, if they weren’t too far out.
For longer contact, however, a long-range skree was required. It used a great deal more magic, and relied on both its own densely packed spells, as well as the piggybacked repeater nature of the other long-range skrees it would ping off of.
It was that cooperative nature of the devices that made them so costly and rare. Most simply didn’t have the coin to keep one active, knowing others might sap some of its magic with their own communications. But for the wealthy, it was not a concern. And the Wampeh Ghalian were wealthy indeed.
It took some time for them to finally receive a reply, but eventually they heard Bud’s voice come over the device.
“You want us to come join you for what? To go to a party on Ripsala?” Uzabud said. “I mean, sure, we love a good party, and we’ll bring all the usual fun stuff with. But we’re a pretty long way out. It’s gonna take us a bit of time to get there. Plus, we’ve got a few loose ends we need to tie up here before we head out. But we’ll join you just as soon as we’re able. And thanks for the invite!” he said, ending the transmission.
Of course, there was no party, nor would he be bringing along the accoutrements one would associate with festivities. But knowing the Council of Twenty possessed a secret backdoor into the supposedly secure and impenetrable skree network meant that on the exceedingly rare occasions a Wampeh Ghalian utilized a skree, it was done with a predetermined code system to ensure none were the wiser to their communications.
Bud and Hozark had long ago come up with a basic series of predetermined messages, and by now they were quite comfortable utilizing them if need be. And at the moment, given the distance between them and how hard it would have been to send one of the Ghalian messengers personally, it was definitely a need-be situation.
Hozark tucked away the specialized skree in its holding compartment and turned to the star chart beside him.
“It seems it may take him a bit longer than we anticipated,” Demelza said, looking at the chart as well. “What do we do until then?”
“Until then?” Hozark said. “We have coordinates of the possible deliverer of the emmik’s note, yes, but we need Bud and Laskar for that.”
“So, we are stuck waiting?”
“I think not,” he replied. “What of the armed forces that were employed for the strike on the visla’s estate? Think about it. Unmarked uniforms. Tslavar mercenaries for hire. And a Council-sanctioned action, no less? Why, it seems obvious. Only a very few places where one could easily arrange such things. And one of them is relatively nearby. We’re going to Azlaht.”
Chapter Twenty
Azlaht. It was a thriving hub for acquiring pretty much anything you could possibly want or need, legal or otherwise. Weapons, recreational spells, even dangerous magic was sold in the many sprawling marketplaces there.
The Council tended to turn a blind eye, as was so often the only way an underground black market of that sort could remain operational. It was because the power players allowed it. And they had their fingers in the pot as well. No business was transacted that they didn’t get at least a small piece of, in one manner or another.
Especially the mercenary trade.
The Tslavars were a brutish race. One fond of, and prone to, violence regardless of their employment by the Council. But as the favorite mercenary enforcers of choice to carry out the Council’s plans, a great deal of the green men and women had served under Council of Twenty orders. And more often than not they enjoyed a bit of leeway in their other, non-Council affairs for it.
There was a rumor in the wind, but many believed the Council was quietly attempting to make the Tslavar fleets into an exclusive extension of their own reach. If no others could hire the mercenaries, or at least the majority of them, it would give the Council a great deal of leverage.
If successful, they could then flex their collective muscle across a wider range and conduct their affairs from afar, all without requiring the risking of their own people’s lives, which they tended to value far more than mere mercenary contractors.
And Azlaht was one of the vital hubs for the mercenary trade. One Hozark felt might provide them with some much-needed answers.
Hozark took his ship in a quick loop around the planet, mirroring the orbits of a great many other craft that had arrived there recently and were deciding which of the commerce zones they would be landing in. Unlike many worlds, Azlaht did not have just one capital city. It had power hubs across all continents, but no one person or group ruled them all.
For that reason, the Wampeh would have to make several stops on this world to accomplish their plan. And after an hour watching the traffic to and from the surface, Hozark selected the first.
He took the ship down in a rapid descent, snatching up a prime landing site as a larger Tslavar ship took off. It was a perfect place to start, and right in the middle of the mercenaries’ stomping grounds within the city itself.
“This is a rather dangerous part of the region,” Hozark said to the young woman now an impromptu part of their crew. “And you have only just been freed of your former home. Stay here and regain your strength. We shall return shortly.”
Henni, washed, rested, and clothed in nondescript but clean attire, stretched in the doorway of her room. Without that additional layer of grime, her violet hair shone with renewed health, even in the ship’s normal lighting.
“I’ll come with,” she said. “I can help.”
“I’m sure you can. But the initial effects of a single night’s sleep can be deceiving. Build your strength and energy. There will be plenty of time for excursions in less-dangerous regions.”
“I’m used to dangerous,” she protested.
Hozark flashed a look at Demelza.
“We know you are, Henni,” Demelza said. “And you are a tough woman, indeed. I have every confidence in your abilities, as does Master Hozark. But what he is trying to tell you is that while we would gladly have you join us on this outing, our disguise is one that your presence would make difficult to maintain. We shall be acting as a married couple in search of our child. And I’m sure you can understand, two distraught parents makes a much more convincing act on their own.”
Henni’s attitude shifted, lightening immediately. She turned to Hozark.
“Why didn’t you just say so in the first place?”
“Forgive my lack of clarity,” he replied.
Demelza headed for the galley. “Would you like some food while we are away? You must be hungry after such a long rest.”
Henni’s eyes spoke as loudly as the rumble in her stomach. Demelza smiled warmly.
“Come. I will show you where the rations are kept.”
“I know where they are,” Henni said, scooting ahead of the Wampeh and down the corridor to the galley.
Hozark let out a low chuckle. “It appears our guest has already made herself right at home.”
“That she has. It is nice to see her rebounding from her hardships so quickly, though we both know it will take more than a bath and good night’s sleep to heal some of those wounds.”
“I agree. But it is a start. Now, let us feed the girl and prepare for our task. This promises to be an interesting excursion.”
* * *
The pale couple walking the avenues and alleyways of the bustling commerce hub looked rather out of place. Too clean. Too polished. And definitely too weak. The uncomfortable glances they cast at the ruffians around them only reinforced the impression.
These offworlders had no place on a world like this, and the local talent smelled them like a shark could find a drop of blood in an ocean. But there were a lot of sharks, and some were bigger and badder than others. They all noted one another, and a silent game of chess began, to see which of them would scare off the others and claim this prize.
The couple seemed completely oblivious to the machinations unfolding around them as they walked deeper and deeper into the marketplace, right toward the most dangerous part, in fact. The area even the biggest and baddest steered clear of, for the sharks that resided there had something they did not. Council backing.
“I think this is the place,” the man said in a thin, reedy voice.
“Should we go in?” his wife asked.
The lurking men and women silently willed them not to, but to no avail it seemed.
“We must. For the sake of our boy,” the man replied, then strode right into the place they shouldn’t have. The place even the toughest avoided.
They walked right into the Tslavar mercenaries’ den.
All eyes turned to them when they stepped inside. To say they stood out would be an understatement. Pristine attire and foppish manners were not something the Tslavars were known for.
“Excuse me,” the man said.
The crowd stared but ignored him. If, by ignored, you meant sized up for an easy target.
“I said, excuse me!” he repeated with a little more force, though his thin voice wavered as he did. “I am looking for whoever is in charge of this place.”
A towering mountain of a man with a latticework of scars crisscrossing his deep-green skin rose from his seat to his full height. He knew his role well, and the way he unfolded and loomed over the visitors showed he had done this on more than a few occasions.
“What tha hell do you want, little man?” he growled, his fingers idly tapping the pommel of the comically large dagger at his waist.
“Um, yes. Uh, are you the one in charge here?”
“I am.”
The man looked scared, but the woman nudged him. The Tslavar appreciated her curves with an obvious leer. Just his type. She blushed and positioned herself slightly behind her husband.
“Then I have a proposition for you,” the man said, plucking up his courage.
“A proposition? I see something I might take ya up on,” the man replied, his colleagues joining him in a disconcerting chuckle.
The man and wife shared a worried glance, but the woman’s back straightened, and she stepped out from her man’s protection.
“We want you to do a job for us,” she said, trying to be brave.
“I bet you do,” the Tslavar replied, again with that same overt leer.
“We want to hire you to find our boy, Happizano. He has run away, but we fear someone may have taken him from the streets.”
“You hear that? They want us to play nanny,” the man said, roaring with laughter. “Oh, dearie, you really are in over your head, aren’t you? You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
“I think we do,” the man said, producing a hefty bag of coin from his pocket. “And rumor is, you’re the best at what you do.”
“Damned right I am.”
“Then find our boy,” he said with a surprising flash of bravado.
He threw the bag to the man, who snatched it easily from the air. He looked inside. There was a significant sum held within. The Tslavar glanced at his men. All were thinking the same thing. Take these fools and part them from every coin and valuable they possessed.
“There is a significant amount more to be paid upon the delivery of information leading to the recovery of our son,” the man said.
The mercenary’s glance halted his men’s advances.
“More? How much more?”
“Five times that amount if you provide us accurate information about our son’s whereabouts. Ten times that amount if you also find who took him.”
That was a significant sum for so little work. Easy money, in fact. The mercenary nodded to his men, and they returned to their casual posturing.
“And if we do find the boy? How much to bring him back?”
“He ran away from home, but even if he has indeed been taken as we fear, we still must win his trust before he will come home with us willingly. Just tell us where he is, and we will come to him as parents to convince him to come home.”
“And then?”
“And then you may do with those who have taken him as you wish. And you will be paid well for it,” the woman said with a flash of motherly anger.
It only made the Tslavar like her more. Curves and fire? If things worked out, maybe he would take her anyway. After they were paid, of course.
“You’ve got yourself a deal,” the man said.
“Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to us!” the man gushed.
Long-range skree contact information was given, as was additional coin for the expense, then the man and his wife departed.
“Can you believe that pathetic waste of flesh has a woman like that?” the Tslavar said to his men with a laugh. “Well, my boys, it looks like we’ve got a little side job to do.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Walking back through the rough streets, no one so much as lay a finger on the couple whose cleanliness made them stand out like a pair of diamonds on a dung heap. They were easy targets, and likely a pretty decent payday, but word had already been spread. These were not to be touched. They had business with the Tslavars.
That didn’t stop the greedy stares, though, along with more than a few lustful ones. Not until they had stepped back into their craft were the two offworlders free of the intense scrutiny.
“Well, that went rather well,” Hozark said with an amused chuckle.
The poor tough guys in town had no idea what would have befallen them if they had actually given in to their desires and attempted to rob or harm the seemingly harmless pair.
“Yes, it was quite productive,” Demelza agreed, shedding her weakling charade as easily as taking off a coat.
“Their leader was certainly taken with you.”
“It never ceases to amuse me how the slight reveal of cleavage can muddy men’s minds so,” Demelza said with an amused grin. “I think I will play that up again at the next stop. It seemed to be a wonderful distraction.”
“I am sure our Tslavar friends will be quite appreciative.”
Hozark and Demelza walked to the galley for some refreshment before heading off to the next commerce hub on their planned route. They would visit a great many of them before their work was done. And the Tslavar thugs they would hire in each of them would do their dirty work for them.
The Ghalian spy network was robust, and they were certainly hard at work searching for Visla Jinnik’s boy, but with the hefty advance the visla had paid, it made perfectly good sense to use some of that coin to hire the Tslavar mercenaries who tended to work on Council endeavors to do some of the legwork for them.
After all, who better to make inquiries among the ranks of Tslavars than a group of their very own comrades? Men ignorantly doing the bidding of the Wampeh Ghalian, and against their own friends and employers, no less?
“It seems our little guest has something of an appetite,” Demelza noted when they reached the galley.
The girl hadn’t exactly raided the place, but judging by the state of the foodstores that had been readily accessible, having a seemingly limitless supply of food was something the chronically underfed young woman was not about to take for granted.
“I fear she will have quite an upset stomach,” Hozark said, noting exactly how much Henni had ingested.
“I would not be surprised if she hid some within her quarters,” Demelza replied. “It seems a natural instinct for one so recently removed from her previously precarious circumstances.”
“A valid point. In any case, we will need to perhaps secure some of the rations, if for no other reason than to keep her from causing herself unintentional gastric harm.”
“I’ve got a strong stomach,” Henni said as she trotted into the room and headed straight for the bread storage container.
She grabbed a thick slice, then took some fresh fruit preserves they had sourced a few worlds back and spread them on thick, eating the treat with obvious relish.
She was like a little fusion reactor, with her ability to ingest massive quantities and convert it into her seemingly boundless energy.
“So, was it fun?” she asked.
“Fun? We were infiltrating a dangerous Tslavar group and tricking them to do our work against their own best interests,” Hozark said.
“Yeah. Like I said. Fun.”
The Wampeh chuckled. “I suppose one could say it was fun. Dangerous, yes, but a pleasant outing, for certain.”
