Space Assassins: The Complete Series 1-5, page 68
“Yep.”
“But if that’s the case, there’s nowhere anywhere near they could offload that cargo. Not for over a dozen systems.”
“Nope.”
“And they’re persona non-grata there and pretty much everywhere in between,” she said, realizing what this could mean.
Bud saw the thoughts forming in her head. “If that was the case, Lalaynia, and you were shit out of luck and with that kind of cargo to unload, where would you go?”
The look in her eye said she knew damn well where they would go. “Shit. You really think…?”
“Yeah,” Bud said. “I do.”
“But this could be bad, Bud. I mean, really bad. And I think a bit harder to pull off than you’re realizing.”
“I know,” the former pirate said, resting his hand on his Wampeh friend’s shoulder. “But we’ve got something they don’t.”
“And what’s that? A girl, a sidekick, and a pair of Wampeh?”
“Hey, I’m a woman!” Henni protested.
“And I’m not some sidekick,” Laskar added.
Lalaynia just raised a single brow in amusement.
Bud gave her a little wink. “Oh, they’re not just a pair of Wampeh,” he said.
On cue, Hozark smiled, his fangs sliding into place.
“Oh, shit!” Lalaynia said, almost taking a step back. And for a woman as confident as her to do so really spoke to the effect the assassin had on people. “You’re Wampeh Ghalian.”
“Indeed. Demelza and myself.”
“And he’s one of the Five,” Bud added, flaunting Hozark’s impressive status even among his kind.
“Well, damn. That changes everything,” the captain said. “But if they are what you say they are, then it’s almost a given where they went.”
“Yeah, I know,” Bud said. “And I’d bet anything they went to Drommus.”
Henni had followed the back-and-forth, but this was all a bit out of her depth. “Drommus? What’s a Drommus?”
Chapter Fifty-One
Drommus.
It was the crown jewel of dangerous, backwater worlds in this part of the galaxy. Most of the galaxy, actually. An angry, volcanic planet that always seemed just on the verge of eruption. And not just of the geologic type.
It was where the roughest of the rough went when they needed safe haven. A place where even Outlanders were not only allowed, but accepted with little grief, although no open arms. But then, it was far better than the reception the outcast pirates would otherwise receive.
The danger was very real, and non-pirates were simply not allowed. And unlike some allegedly pirate worlds, this one meant it. Even mercenaries shied away, though they were occasionally tolerated for the briefest of stopovers if they had something of true value to trade.
The Council of Twenty had learned long ago that, unlike some other strongholds they had been able to overrun with sheer force and numbers, the residents of Drommus had learned that lesson from the others’ example, and they would die before surrender.
And with the deadly and massive spells they had layered within the volcanoes, they meant it. The whole world could be triggered to blow, taking not only the pirate inhabitants, but any ships foolish enough to be within their system.
Once, a Council ship had tried to make a point, taking one of the orbiting pirate craft captive for some foolish and petty offense. A volcano had been triggered, and its geyser of magic-laced magma blasted into the low orbit, the still-hot shards of volcanic glass tearing through the Council ship and the captured vessel alike.
It was an excessive show of force, no doubt, but the point had been made.
Do not. Fuck. With Drommus.
The message was received loud and clear, and from that point forward, no one even dreamed of making waves there. The price was simply too high, and it just wasn’t worth it.
But Captain Lalaynia Demarzik not only had safe passage anytime she wanted it, she had something bordering on carte blanche while on the hostile world.
With her altercations, the overseers who were generally keeping things from erupting into full-fledged riots tended to look the other way. If Lalaynia was putting boot to ass, there was always a very damn good reason for it.
Fortunately, she was rarely involved in such things. People generally knew better than to rile up the thoroughly dangerous woman. But nevertheless, every once in a long while, some liquored-up idiot would think to try their mettle against the notorious woman.
And every time, they would find themselves on the losing end.
Uzabud had once been an integral part of her crew, and he was still allowed access to Drommus as both a legacy-type courtesy, as well as because of his current smuggler status. He was not, however, given the same free rein that the captain was, and any trouble he got himself into was on his own head.
This time would be different, though. He was flying with his ship being considered a temporary part of Lalaynia’s crew, more or less. A partner, if you were to be more specific about it. And that gave him a layer of protection he would not otherwise possess.
Likewise for Hozark and the others, though with Henni’s unpredictable nature, he didn’t really know what might happen if she pickpocketed the wrong person.
Hozark and Demelza would arrive with the pirate’s main ship, while Bud and the others circled to outer areas to touch down and survey for their quarry. One group on the ground, the other leapfrogging by air, hopefully finding the Outlander craft in the process.
Corann had outfitted them with a few new skrees, and with that added tool in their kit, the impromptu rescue party would be able to communicate just about anywhere on the planet. The skrees she had on hand, however, were not particularly powerful, and any messages beyond that range were simply not an option.
But for this mission, they would certainly suffice.
The large pirate ship settled down in the large docking area best suited to handle not only craft of that size, but also that possessed an area for VIPs, of which Lalaynia most certainly was. That didn’t afford her much more than a quicker access to the township from her ship, but at least it was something.
And in this instance, when she might need to get to her ship in a hurry, it could make the difference between success and failure. Possibly even life or death, depending how bad things went. And knowing how trouble tended to follow Uzabud, she was quite confident this would lean toward bad, if not outright catastrophic.
But it was worth the chance. There was booty to be had, and a hefty payment from the Ghalian, no less. And doing something that amounted to a favor for the order of assassins was always a good idea. There was no telling when that check mark in the favor column might come in handy, especially in her line of work.
Bud started off by landing a little bit farther away, with all the rest of the rabble and their ships. As expected, it would delay his meeting up with the others, and it was for that reason, it had been decided that he, Henni, and Laskar would start their search from afar, working their way through the outer landing sites and gradually making their way in closer to the others. They didn’t know whom they were looking for, after all, and for all they knew, their target could be anyone.
Outlander ships were not overtly flagged as such, though some of them wore their status as almost an inverse badge of honor. But for the most part, you could not quickly discern one at a glance. This would take legwork. Legwork and a degree of subtlety.
“Are you ready, my friends?” Captain Demarzik asked. “Once we touch down, it’s a straight shot into the township proper. I’ll have my people fan out immediately and start making small talk with the locals. We should have an idea who’s landed in the last few days pretty quickly.”
“And what about the boy?” Demelza asked.
“We will have to be far more subtle about that part. If word gets out someone’s looking for this particular kid, they’ll get spooked and either run, which we can handle, or go to ground, which will make tracking them become several fold more difficult.”
“So, we will be subtle,” Hozark said as they stepped off Lalaynia’s ship and onto the hard, black rock of Drommus’s surface. “Let us get to it. Young Jinnik is in far more danger than he likely realizes, and time is of the essence.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Lalaynia and her team were good to their word, and as soon as her ship had settled into its landing spot, they all quickly stepped clear and fanned out into the surrounding areas, quickly making friendly small talk and trying to suss out which of the many ships docked there might be the one containing their prize.
Hozark and Demelza did what they did best on any world. They blended in without anyone noticing a thing. To all who did happen to take notice, they were just a pair of Wampeh pirates on Drommus for a bit of shore leave.
Even his vespus blade, stuck to his back, went unnoticed. Unless he unsheathed it, it would just seem like another sword. So they walked the pathways between the ships. And while they were at it, they happened to drop that their boss was in the market for a few new slaves.
Most who had some for sale were quickly disqualified, either for having been on the planet too long to be their target, or for simply not having the right slaves in their possession.
One of the slave pens contained a few Ootaki, and at the sight of them, Hozark found himself reflecting on the poor captives he had come across in the weapons smelting factory hidden on Garvalis. The same world on which he had briefly found himself trapped by a rather clever pitfall.
Someone had been using them to power weapons, but that was a commonplace use for their magical locks. But on Actaris, where poor Aargun had been held and mutilated, there was something more. Dark work at play, and it had been tied into the goings-on at the Garvalis facility.
What was done at Actaris was something different, though. They had experimented on far more than just Ootaki in that location. Drooks had been mutilated as well in the attempt to take their very specific flavor of magic and force it to bend to their torturers’ will.
It seemed doubtful it had been even a moderate success, since their power was so tied to driving ships it had no other use that anyone had ever discovered. But the dead bodies of not just the Ootaki, but also the Drooks showed those making the attempts were more than willing to sacrifice the valuable magic users if it might further their goals.
And then there were the other corpses. A pair of Zomoki, the mighty creatures slain in an attempt to tap into their innate gifts, no doubt. But worst of all, at least for the Ghalian who had discovered the scene, was the young Wampeh they had found, the body discarded with the others like so much rubbish.
People were being killed. Tortured. Experimented on. And as Hozark re-shifted his focus, he was determined that no such thing would happen to young Happizano. Not if he could help it.
“Excuse me,” he said to a heavily muscled man standing before a pen containing control-collared Ootaki. “I was wondering, do you have any unshorn Ootaki in your stocks?”
“You think I’d be selling them here if I did?” the man replied.
“I guess not. But it was worth asking.”
“You might want to check with Ragnak,” the man suggested. “His stocks are newer. He might have something more to your liking.”
Hozark threw him a coin. “Thanks for the tip, friend.”
“My pleasure,” the man replied. “Hope you find something suitable.”
“Me too.”
Hozark and Demelza continued on their way, looking for this Ragnak person. As they asked around to determine where exactly he was parked, it was looking like he might actually be the man they were after. He was a mysterious sort. Not a confirmed Outlander, but definitely one of the pirates on thin ice in these parts. And for Drommus, that was saying something.
It also seemed that his ship had arrived very recently. With that additional bit of information, Hozark hoped that this might actually be the man they were seeking.
“This Ragnak’s ship?” he asked when they reached the craft they knew full well was his.
The guard stationed outside the fairly large craft looked the two Wampeh up and down. He was not impressed.
“Who wants to know?”
“We’re looking for a bit of trade, potentially,” Hozark replied. “If this is the right ship, we’d like an audience with Ragnak.”
“The captain don’t talk to––”
Hozark casually tossed the pouch of coin up and down in his palm. From the sound of it, there was a fair amount inside.
“I mean, let me take you to see him,” the man corrected.
“I said I wasn’t to be disturbed!” the bearded man with deep green hair and an even deeper orange complexion said.
Captain Ragnak was a jigsaw puzzle of scars, the souvenirs of his many years living a life of action. He could have had them healed at any time, but he felt they were badges of courage. Plus, they really added to his pirate image.
“Sorry, Captain. These two were lookin’ to talk about some trade with ya.”
He shifted his annoyed gaze to Hozark and Demelza. “Trade? What sort of trade are you looking for, then?”
Hozark resumed absentmindedly tossing the pouch in his hand. “We’ve got an employer who is looking for some new house slaves. We heard you just made port not long ago and still had a fresh batch.”
“That I do,” he replied. “Ezzil, go bring the merchandise.”
“Aye, Captain,” the man said, hurrying off to fetch the available slaves.
“Have a seat,” Ragnak said.
“Don’t mind if I do. I have to tell you, it’s been a bit of a bust so far. When we landed here with Captain Demarzik, I was told Drommus was the best place for ten systems to find what we needed.”
“You’re with Demarzik?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah, that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“How you two found your way to this part of the township. All the best traders are here. Good captain, that one.”
“We think so,” Demelza noted.
“But Drommus?”
“Yeah, not our first choice, really. But it’s just such a pain, always steering clear of the damn Council and their goons.”
“Fuck the Council,” Ragnak spat.
“I’ll second that. Fuck the council!” Hozark agreed.
“Fuck ’em all to hell! Arr!”
Hozark paused and took a chance on the man’s mirth. “Did you actually just say ‘arr’?” he asked.
Ragnak laughed, breaking his rough-and-tough façade for a moment. “Ironically,” he replied. “It’s kind of an inside joke around here. Ah, excellent. Here they come.”
A moment later a dozen slaves of all size, gender, race, and color were led in and walked past the newcomers in a procession. None of them were the boy they sought.
“An impressive lot,” Hozark said, pulling a bottle of very, very expensive Sluvak from his deep pocket and nodding to their host. “Glasses?”
Ragnak’s eyes widened slightly at the sight. It was a very rare, and very good alcohol, the likes of which he hadn’t tasted in ages. He snatched up three glasses from the small table beside him, and Hozark poured them each a small taste, a bit more for their host, of course.
“A very nice group of slaves,” he said. “But our employer is looking for something a bit, uh, younger, if you know what I mean.
Ragnak paused, mid-sip. “I do know what you mean,” he said with a conspiratorial look. “But this is all I’ve got at the moment.”
“Ah, that’s a shame.”
There was something behind the pirate’s eyes. The way he shifted a little and paused. He knew something, it was clear as day to the master assassin.
“Well, I appreciate your help anyway,” he said, then pushed the nearly full bottle of Sluvak toward the pirate. “In any case, a gesture of thanks for your hospitality, between friends. And now, we really should get back to Captain Demarzik. She’ll be disappointed to hear we struck out.”
Hozark and Demelza rose to leave.
“You know. Now that I think of it, Captain Darvin might have something that suits your needs. He just came in today, and I heard a little talk of his cargo. Nothing confirmed, though. But maybe worth your time to look.”
Hozark gave him an appreciative nod. “Thanks for the tip, Captain. We’ll check it out. And it was really nice making your acquaintance.”
“Likewise,” the pirate said. “And remember, ‘Arr!’”
“Arr!” Hozark replied with a laugh, then headed out to find this Captain Darvin and see if perhaps he was in possession of their young ward.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Captain Darvin’s ship wasn’t exactly what anyone would call hard to track down. In fact, the massive, battle-scarred craft stood out even among the other rather beat-up pirate ships that regularly frequented the docks of Drommus.
As an Outlander, one would expect his craft to have had to forego some of the cosmetic niceties that so many opted for after a few good scores. But this was excessive even for one of that outcast sect.
But, like Ragnak’s latticework of scars, the patched-up damage to the pirate ship lent an additional menace to its already imposing air.
The location of the ship, however, was just as rough an area as the men who disembarked it. Volcanic instability had lava flows running all around. They were kept back by a steady stream of magic, but, every so often, a drunken pirate met a very fast, and very hot end when they had a misstep.
Only the lowest of the low were made to set down there, but when they’d come to land, the Outlanders were pegged for who they were and were directed to this most treacherous of landing zones.
But they had expected no less. Outlanders weren’t popular anywhere, not even on Drommus.
“You go left. I’ll go right,” Hozark said, splitting off from Demelza without a glance, totally nonchalant in his redirect around the immediate landing area.
If this was indeed their man, things could spill over and turn the whole area into a free-for-all rumble. It was a powder keg waiting to ignite, and if things might go down that path, it was imperative they had backup standing by, ready to step in.
“But if that’s the case, there’s nowhere anywhere near they could offload that cargo. Not for over a dozen systems.”
“Nope.”
“And they’re persona non-grata there and pretty much everywhere in between,” she said, realizing what this could mean.
Bud saw the thoughts forming in her head. “If that was the case, Lalaynia, and you were shit out of luck and with that kind of cargo to unload, where would you go?”
The look in her eye said she knew damn well where they would go. “Shit. You really think…?”
“Yeah,” Bud said. “I do.”
“But this could be bad, Bud. I mean, really bad. And I think a bit harder to pull off than you’re realizing.”
“I know,” the former pirate said, resting his hand on his Wampeh friend’s shoulder. “But we’ve got something they don’t.”
“And what’s that? A girl, a sidekick, and a pair of Wampeh?”
“Hey, I’m a woman!” Henni protested.
“And I’m not some sidekick,” Laskar added.
Lalaynia just raised a single brow in amusement.
Bud gave her a little wink. “Oh, they’re not just a pair of Wampeh,” he said.
On cue, Hozark smiled, his fangs sliding into place.
“Oh, shit!” Lalaynia said, almost taking a step back. And for a woman as confident as her to do so really spoke to the effect the assassin had on people. “You’re Wampeh Ghalian.”
“Indeed. Demelza and myself.”
“And he’s one of the Five,” Bud added, flaunting Hozark’s impressive status even among his kind.
“Well, damn. That changes everything,” the captain said. “But if they are what you say they are, then it’s almost a given where they went.”
“Yeah, I know,” Bud said. “And I’d bet anything they went to Drommus.”
Henni had followed the back-and-forth, but this was all a bit out of her depth. “Drommus? What’s a Drommus?”
Chapter Fifty-One
Drommus.
It was the crown jewel of dangerous, backwater worlds in this part of the galaxy. Most of the galaxy, actually. An angry, volcanic planet that always seemed just on the verge of eruption. And not just of the geologic type.
It was where the roughest of the rough went when they needed safe haven. A place where even Outlanders were not only allowed, but accepted with little grief, although no open arms. But then, it was far better than the reception the outcast pirates would otherwise receive.
The danger was very real, and non-pirates were simply not allowed. And unlike some allegedly pirate worlds, this one meant it. Even mercenaries shied away, though they were occasionally tolerated for the briefest of stopovers if they had something of true value to trade.
The Council of Twenty had learned long ago that, unlike some other strongholds they had been able to overrun with sheer force and numbers, the residents of Drommus had learned that lesson from the others’ example, and they would die before surrender.
And with the deadly and massive spells they had layered within the volcanoes, they meant it. The whole world could be triggered to blow, taking not only the pirate inhabitants, but any ships foolish enough to be within their system.
Once, a Council ship had tried to make a point, taking one of the orbiting pirate craft captive for some foolish and petty offense. A volcano had been triggered, and its geyser of magic-laced magma blasted into the low orbit, the still-hot shards of volcanic glass tearing through the Council ship and the captured vessel alike.
It was an excessive show of force, no doubt, but the point had been made.
Do not. Fuck. With Drommus.
The message was received loud and clear, and from that point forward, no one even dreamed of making waves there. The price was simply too high, and it just wasn’t worth it.
But Captain Lalaynia Demarzik not only had safe passage anytime she wanted it, she had something bordering on carte blanche while on the hostile world.
With her altercations, the overseers who were generally keeping things from erupting into full-fledged riots tended to look the other way. If Lalaynia was putting boot to ass, there was always a very damn good reason for it.
Fortunately, she was rarely involved in such things. People generally knew better than to rile up the thoroughly dangerous woman. But nevertheless, every once in a long while, some liquored-up idiot would think to try their mettle against the notorious woman.
And every time, they would find themselves on the losing end.
Uzabud had once been an integral part of her crew, and he was still allowed access to Drommus as both a legacy-type courtesy, as well as because of his current smuggler status. He was not, however, given the same free rein that the captain was, and any trouble he got himself into was on his own head.
This time would be different, though. He was flying with his ship being considered a temporary part of Lalaynia’s crew, more or less. A partner, if you were to be more specific about it. And that gave him a layer of protection he would not otherwise possess.
Likewise for Hozark and the others, though with Henni’s unpredictable nature, he didn’t really know what might happen if she pickpocketed the wrong person.
Hozark and Demelza would arrive with the pirate’s main ship, while Bud and the others circled to outer areas to touch down and survey for their quarry. One group on the ground, the other leapfrogging by air, hopefully finding the Outlander craft in the process.
Corann had outfitted them with a few new skrees, and with that added tool in their kit, the impromptu rescue party would be able to communicate just about anywhere on the planet. The skrees she had on hand, however, were not particularly powerful, and any messages beyond that range were simply not an option.
But for this mission, they would certainly suffice.
The large pirate ship settled down in the large docking area best suited to handle not only craft of that size, but also that possessed an area for VIPs, of which Lalaynia most certainly was. That didn’t afford her much more than a quicker access to the township from her ship, but at least it was something.
And in this instance, when she might need to get to her ship in a hurry, it could make the difference between success and failure. Possibly even life or death, depending how bad things went. And knowing how trouble tended to follow Uzabud, she was quite confident this would lean toward bad, if not outright catastrophic.
But it was worth the chance. There was booty to be had, and a hefty payment from the Ghalian, no less. And doing something that amounted to a favor for the order of assassins was always a good idea. There was no telling when that check mark in the favor column might come in handy, especially in her line of work.
Bud started off by landing a little bit farther away, with all the rest of the rabble and their ships. As expected, it would delay his meeting up with the others, and it was for that reason, it had been decided that he, Henni, and Laskar would start their search from afar, working their way through the outer landing sites and gradually making their way in closer to the others. They didn’t know whom they were looking for, after all, and for all they knew, their target could be anyone.
Outlander ships were not overtly flagged as such, though some of them wore their status as almost an inverse badge of honor. But for the most part, you could not quickly discern one at a glance. This would take legwork. Legwork and a degree of subtlety.
“Are you ready, my friends?” Captain Demarzik asked. “Once we touch down, it’s a straight shot into the township proper. I’ll have my people fan out immediately and start making small talk with the locals. We should have an idea who’s landed in the last few days pretty quickly.”
“And what about the boy?” Demelza asked.
“We will have to be far more subtle about that part. If word gets out someone’s looking for this particular kid, they’ll get spooked and either run, which we can handle, or go to ground, which will make tracking them become several fold more difficult.”
“So, we will be subtle,” Hozark said as they stepped off Lalaynia’s ship and onto the hard, black rock of Drommus’s surface. “Let us get to it. Young Jinnik is in far more danger than he likely realizes, and time is of the essence.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Lalaynia and her team were good to their word, and as soon as her ship had settled into its landing spot, they all quickly stepped clear and fanned out into the surrounding areas, quickly making friendly small talk and trying to suss out which of the many ships docked there might be the one containing their prize.
Hozark and Demelza did what they did best on any world. They blended in without anyone noticing a thing. To all who did happen to take notice, they were just a pair of Wampeh pirates on Drommus for a bit of shore leave.
Even his vespus blade, stuck to his back, went unnoticed. Unless he unsheathed it, it would just seem like another sword. So they walked the pathways between the ships. And while they were at it, they happened to drop that their boss was in the market for a few new slaves.
Most who had some for sale were quickly disqualified, either for having been on the planet too long to be their target, or for simply not having the right slaves in their possession.
One of the slave pens contained a few Ootaki, and at the sight of them, Hozark found himself reflecting on the poor captives he had come across in the weapons smelting factory hidden on Garvalis. The same world on which he had briefly found himself trapped by a rather clever pitfall.
Someone had been using them to power weapons, but that was a commonplace use for their magical locks. But on Actaris, where poor Aargun had been held and mutilated, there was something more. Dark work at play, and it had been tied into the goings-on at the Garvalis facility.
What was done at Actaris was something different, though. They had experimented on far more than just Ootaki in that location. Drooks had been mutilated as well in the attempt to take their very specific flavor of magic and force it to bend to their torturers’ will.
It seemed doubtful it had been even a moderate success, since their power was so tied to driving ships it had no other use that anyone had ever discovered. But the dead bodies of not just the Ootaki, but also the Drooks showed those making the attempts were more than willing to sacrifice the valuable magic users if it might further their goals.
And then there were the other corpses. A pair of Zomoki, the mighty creatures slain in an attempt to tap into their innate gifts, no doubt. But worst of all, at least for the Ghalian who had discovered the scene, was the young Wampeh they had found, the body discarded with the others like so much rubbish.
People were being killed. Tortured. Experimented on. And as Hozark re-shifted his focus, he was determined that no such thing would happen to young Happizano. Not if he could help it.
“Excuse me,” he said to a heavily muscled man standing before a pen containing control-collared Ootaki. “I was wondering, do you have any unshorn Ootaki in your stocks?”
“You think I’d be selling them here if I did?” the man replied.
“I guess not. But it was worth asking.”
“You might want to check with Ragnak,” the man suggested. “His stocks are newer. He might have something more to your liking.”
Hozark threw him a coin. “Thanks for the tip, friend.”
“My pleasure,” the man replied. “Hope you find something suitable.”
“Me too.”
Hozark and Demelza continued on their way, looking for this Ragnak person. As they asked around to determine where exactly he was parked, it was looking like he might actually be the man they were after. He was a mysterious sort. Not a confirmed Outlander, but definitely one of the pirates on thin ice in these parts. And for Drommus, that was saying something.
It also seemed that his ship had arrived very recently. With that additional bit of information, Hozark hoped that this might actually be the man they were seeking.
“This Ragnak’s ship?” he asked when they reached the craft they knew full well was his.
The guard stationed outside the fairly large craft looked the two Wampeh up and down. He was not impressed.
“Who wants to know?”
“We’re looking for a bit of trade, potentially,” Hozark replied. “If this is the right ship, we’d like an audience with Ragnak.”
“The captain don’t talk to––”
Hozark casually tossed the pouch of coin up and down in his palm. From the sound of it, there was a fair amount inside.
“I mean, let me take you to see him,” the man corrected.
“I said I wasn’t to be disturbed!” the bearded man with deep green hair and an even deeper orange complexion said.
Captain Ragnak was a jigsaw puzzle of scars, the souvenirs of his many years living a life of action. He could have had them healed at any time, but he felt they were badges of courage. Plus, they really added to his pirate image.
“Sorry, Captain. These two were lookin’ to talk about some trade with ya.”
He shifted his annoyed gaze to Hozark and Demelza. “Trade? What sort of trade are you looking for, then?”
Hozark resumed absentmindedly tossing the pouch in his hand. “We’ve got an employer who is looking for some new house slaves. We heard you just made port not long ago and still had a fresh batch.”
“That I do,” he replied. “Ezzil, go bring the merchandise.”
“Aye, Captain,” the man said, hurrying off to fetch the available slaves.
“Have a seat,” Ragnak said.
“Don’t mind if I do. I have to tell you, it’s been a bit of a bust so far. When we landed here with Captain Demarzik, I was told Drommus was the best place for ten systems to find what we needed.”
“You’re with Demarzik?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah, that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“How you two found your way to this part of the township. All the best traders are here. Good captain, that one.”
“We think so,” Demelza noted.
“But Drommus?”
“Yeah, not our first choice, really. But it’s just such a pain, always steering clear of the damn Council and their goons.”
“Fuck the Council,” Ragnak spat.
“I’ll second that. Fuck the council!” Hozark agreed.
“Fuck ’em all to hell! Arr!”
Hozark paused and took a chance on the man’s mirth. “Did you actually just say ‘arr’?” he asked.
Ragnak laughed, breaking his rough-and-tough façade for a moment. “Ironically,” he replied. “It’s kind of an inside joke around here. Ah, excellent. Here they come.”
A moment later a dozen slaves of all size, gender, race, and color were led in and walked past the newcomers in a procession. None of them were the boy they sought.
“An impressive lot,” Hozark said, pulling a bottle of very, very expensive Sluvak from his deep pocket and nodding to their host. “Glasses?”
Ragnak’s eyes widened slightly at the sight. It was a very rare, and very good alcohol, the likes of which he hadn’t tasted in ages. He snatched up three glasses from the small table beside him, and Hozark poured them each a small taste, a bit more for their host, of course.
“A very nice group of slaves,” he said. “But our employer is looking for something a bit, uh, younger, if you know what I mean.
Ragnak paused, mid-sip. “I do know what you mean,” he said with a conspiratorial look. “But this is all I’ve got at the moment.”
“Ah, that’s a shame.”
There was something behind the pirate’s eyes. The way he shifted a little and paused. He knew something, it was clear as day to the master assassin.
“Well, I appreciate your help anyway,” he said, then pushed the nearly full bottle of Sluvak toward the pirate. “In any case, a gesture of thanks for your hospitality, between friends. And now, we really should get back to Captain Demarzik. She’ll be disappointed to hear we struck out.”
Hozark and Demelza rose to leave.
“You know. Now that I think of it, Captain Darvin might have something that suits your needs. He just came in today, and I heard a little talk of his cargo. Nothing confirmed, though. But maybe worth your time to look.”
Hozark gave him an appreciative nod. “Thanks for the tip, Captain. We’ll check it out. And it was really nice making your acquaintance.”
“Likewise,” the pirate said. “And remember, ‘Arr!’”
“Arr!” Hozark replied with a laugh, then headed out to find this Captain Darvin and see if perhaps he was in possession of their young ward.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Captain Darvin’s ship wasn’t exactly what anyone would call hard to track down. In fact, the massive, battle-scarred craft stood out even among the other rather beat-up pirate ships that regularly frequented the docks of Drommus.
As an Outlander, one would expect his craft to have had to forego some of the cosmetic niceties that so many opted for after a few good scores. But this was excessive even for one of that outcast sect.
But, like Ragnak’s latticework of scars, the patched-up damage to the pirate ship lent an additional menace to its already imposing air.
The location of the ship, however, was just as rough an area as the men who disembarked it. Volcanic instability had lava flows running all around. They were kept back by a steady stream of magic, but, every so often, a drunken pirate met a very fast, and very hot end when they had a misstep.
Only the lowest of the low were made to set down there, but when they’d come to land, the Outlanders were pegged for who they were and were directed to this most treacherous of landing zones.
But they had expected no less. Outlanders weren’t popular anywhere, not even on Drommus.
“You go left. I’ll go right,” Hozark said, splitting off from Demelza without a glance, totally nonchalant in his redirect around the immediate landing area.
If this was indeed their man, things could spill over and turn the whole area into a free-for-all rumble. It was a powder keg waiting to ignite, and if things might go down that path, it was imperative they had backup standing by, ready to step in.
