Space Assassins: The Complete Series 1-5, page 74
Demelza had been walking behind the pair, her sharp assassin eyes making sure there was no trouble lurking around the corner. But this was Sorlak, and trouble never materialized. Nevertheless, the stout woman was ready for action if need be.
Uzabud and his copilot, Laskar, were off galivanting elsewhere in the marketplace, eating, carousing, and acquiring baubles they had no use for, no doubt, along with the best alcohols they could procure.
Bud had once been a space pirate, after all, and some habits died hard.
Henni, the angry, violet-haired young woman they had rescued several worlds back, was resting up aboard the ship after eating far too many Horakin berries. She would be fine, eventually, but for the moment she did not want to stray too far from a restroom.
Happizano headed straight for the sweets vendors farther along the winding stalls in a rush. He was like a kid in a candy shop, and while these were outdoor vendors and not actual storefronts, the analogy held true.
“And two of those sticky buns,” he said, completing his purchase with still a bit of coin to spare for perhaps one more treat before they lifted back off into the utter boredom of space.
It was not the greatest environment for a ten-year-old to pass his days and weeks, but necessity was necessity. He was a target, after all. A third kidnapping simply was not an option.
“Hey!” he blurted as a couple of larger boys bumped into him in passing.
“Watch where you’re going,” the nearest one said, then headed off with his friend.
Hap felt something was odd about the two, and a moment later he realized what it was. His pocket was now lighter the few coins that had been there just a moment ago.
“Hey! Come back here!” he shouted.
The older boys took off running, and young Happizano chased after them as fast as his legs would carry him. They weaved around carts, then diverted abruptly into a long alleyway. Hap plunged in headfirst in pursuit, the echoes of his footfalls ringing off the hard walls.
He rounded the next corner to find the larger of the two boys standing there waiting for him.
“I’ll take those,” the boy said, his hand extended.
“You can buy your own. Oh wait, that was my coin you stole,” Hap said, holding his bag of sweets tight in his grip.
“Give me the bag.”
“No.” He turned to leave, but the other boy had stepped behind him and was blocking his way. And he was moving closer.
“He said hand over the bag.”
“They’re mine,” Hap protested.
He didn’t even see the first punch coming, nor the second or third. In a quick flurry of blows, the two larger boys had driven him to the ground. The nearest bent down and snatched up the bag of sweets.
“Ya shoulda just given ’em to us,” he said, laughing as he walked away, eating poor Hap’s sticky buns.
Happizano slowly pushed himself up to his feet and brushed off the dirt. His nose was bleeding, but only slightly, and his cheek had been scraped by one of the boys’ fists.
Little did the boy know that Hozark had been standing nearby, invisible beneath his shimmer cloak, watching the whole thing unfold. The youth had shown courage, chasing the larger boys, and he had even stood up to them when the tables turned. But he was not familiar with the ways of the rough back alleys found on every world.
Happizano had been raised in the privileged confines of a powerful visla’s estate, and these sort of things were utterly foreign to him. It was a painful lesson he had just allowed to occur, but Hozark knew it had to unfold without his intervention. The boy had to learn, and the best way to do that was firsthand.
The Wampeh assassin silently slipped out of the alleyway as Hap wiped the dirt from his palms and clothing and walked back to meet the others.
“What happened to you?” Demelza asked when she saw the telltale signs of a fight on his face.
“Nothing. Can we go, please?”
Hozark gave Demelza a look. “A good idea. Head back to the ship. I shall follow shortly.”
Chapter Three
The two bullies casually wove their way through the familiar maze of stalls and shops, saying their hellos to the familiar faces of the vendors as they passed. They stopped at a small stand selling a variety of beverages, their containers chilled by a little touch of magic.
“Two cups of Arambis juice,” the smaller of the pair said as they strode up to the stand.
“You have coin?” the woman asked with a wary look.
“Of course we do,” he replied, slapping payment down on the counter.
She seemed almost surprised, but she was certainly not going to turn down their payment.
“All right. Two Arambis, coming right up,” she said, pouring a pair of tall cups, then pulling power from her konus, quietly reciting the chilling spell she used dozens of times a day.
The containers frosted on the inside, the contents cooling immediately. The spell was only a very minor one, but it would effectively keep the beverage cool long enough to be consumed at a pleasant temperature.
“Thanks,” the boy said as he grabbed the two drinks and headed off with his friend.
The two sipped at them as they walked, content in their day’s haul. It had been good fortune to find not only a rich kid, but one who coughed up food as well as coin. Not a bad day at all.
They took a small walkway toward their favorite hang-out spot. It was rather secluded, which made it the perfect place for them to safely dig through their haul.
Over time, they had dragged a few items into the area to provide some creature comforts, and that included the pair of crates they took seats on, using a third as a small table. They spread out the coin and goods they’d stolen that day, young Hap’s the most recent addition.
The two bullies sorted the items and added up the coin they had pickpocketed from not just Hap. A good haul for so early in the day, indeed. They laughed at their good fortunes and tucked into their stolen goods.
The bag of fresh pastries were the first to be opened, and the stolen goodies were still warm from the ovens.
“I’m glad he got these from Yanna’s stall,” the larger of the two said as he snatched up one of the treats and took a big bite. “She’s got the best sticky buns.”
“Yeah. And the kid bought two of ’em,” his friend replied through a full mouth.
“Easiest score we’ve had in a while too. What a pathetic piece that one was. He didn’t even try to fight back. I mean, who just gives up that easy?”
“Well, he did try to talk tough,” the other boy said with a laugh. “I guess he’s used to Daddy taking care of problems for hi––”
The boy’s words were abruptly cut off when he and his friend suddenly found themselves hoisted off the ground by powerful, invisible hands and slammed up against the wall, their feet left dangling.
Hozark shook his head slightly as he uttered the spell controlling his shimmer cloak, making him visible once more. The two youths looked properly confused and terrified.
As was his intent.
The pale assassin stared hard at the boys a long moment, and under his gaze they stopped squirming. His grip was like iron, and there was simply no way they could break free. At best, they might just anger the strange man further than he already appeared.
Finally, the mysterious assailant spoke.
“You robbed my friend,” he said in a low growl.
The boys were scared, no doubt. They were used to perhaps getting a beating from time to time if they were caught picking pockets, but this was something different. Something serious, and far more terrifying.
Hozark stared silently again, intimidating the boys with his unblinking gaze. He was actually rather enjoying teaching these two a lesson, and he had no intention of causing them any harm. They were just children, after all, and it was his firm belief that all children deserved the opportunity to learn and grow.
But he would not let them know that.
It was how he had become one of the deadliest assassins in the galaxy, after all. Taken as a young boy and given a new chance. Shown a world he never knew existed. And, eventually, even made into a full brother in the order. A Wampeh Ghalian. And he had thrived ever since.
These two, however, did not possess the requisite innate talents for that sort of a future, but, perhaps, he could at least steer them to reconsider their ways.
“We don’t know who you’re talking about,” the larger of the two said in a desperate attempt.
“Oh, I’m sure you do.”
“Really, sir, we don’t. You’ve made a mistake. We didn’t rob anyone.”
Hozark was not amused by their reluctance to admit their guilt. They were scared, yes, but apparently used to getting away with their little capers with minimal consequences. This would not do.
He was reluctant to waste magic on these two, but a little display suddenly felt well worth the expenditure. Hozark drew power from his konus and quietly uttered a spell, the magic firmly pinning the boys to the wall. He released them and stepped back, the two remaining suspended in the air. It was a most unusual spell, and one few knew how to cast.
That seemed to make an impression, but for good measure, he decided to go all the way with these two. Hozark pulled out a pair of wicked blades from their hidden sheaths and pressed them against each boy’s soft belly.
“Shall I open you up and reclaim the pastry you stole from him? Will that refresh your memory?”
“Oh, that boy. Uh, yes, of course. We remember him. It was just a lark, though. We didn’t mean anything by it.”
“You beat him. A boy half your size. And after you had already taken his coin.”
“How do you know that?” the boy asked, at a loss.
They had been alone in the alley when they’d robbed him, and there was no way the kid had run home to tell on them in the short time since they’d left him lying on the ground.
“I have my ways,” Hozark said, smiling wide and sliding his fangs down into place.
“A Gh-Ghalian!” the smaller boy said, his pants suddenly becoming quite damp as his bladder released in fear.
The larger of the two managed to keep control of his bowels, but only just. Regardless, the look of abject terror in their eyes told Hozark the lesson had sunk in.
“You would do well to remember that you never know who it is you are robbing,” he said. “And the next person may not be so forgiving as I.”
Hozark sheathed his knives and walked to the pile of coin on the table. He surveyed the boys’ meager quantity and recovered the exact amount he had given Hap earlier that day. He then took a few additional from the small stack.
“Restitution for your act,” he said, pocketing the coin, but leaving the boys the rest of their haul.
Hozark was not going to steal from children. That was dishonorable and distasteful. And Lord knew he had picked plenty of pockets in his time. He turned and walked several paces, then faced the boys once more, pausing a long moment, just to give them that last bit of reinforcing fear.
“Uzmanti orkus,” he said, releasing the spell.
The boys dropped to the ground and fell to their knees. He hadn’t been holding them terribly high, but the fear he had instilled in them had left their legs far too weak to stand. For the moment at least.
He then turned and vanished into his shimmer cloak, disappearing before their eyes. It was a fun trick, and one he would never do in front of a true adversary. But for these children, the effect would serve to reinforce the fear that they could be watched at any time, anywhere.
* * *
“Ah, you are looking better, young Jinnik,” Hozark said a short while later as he casually strolled into the ship’s galley.
“A successful outing?” Demelza asked, looking at him with knowing eyes.
“Indeed,” he replied, placing a bag in front of the boy. “I believe these are yours.”
Hap looked in the bag. Indeed, it was full of sticky buns and treats, though he could have sworn he hadn’t purchased quite so many.
“Thanks, Hozark,” he said, his eyes slightly averted. “Sorry I didn’t say anything.”
“Do not be sorry. You have never had to deal with a situation such as that before. There is no shame in admitting you do not know something. It is how we learn and grow.”
“But it was pathetic,” the boy said. “They just took everything, and there was nothing I could do about it.”
“Yes, but, again, you simply were not prepared for this sort of a situation. Your father has always protected you. And while that is an admirable thing, it does not serve you well in times when you are on your own. You need to be able to defend yourself, for there will not always be another to protect you.”
“But what am I supposed to do?”
He looked at Demelza and gave her a little nod.
“I have an idea,” she said. “Would you like us to teach you?”
Hap perked up a bit. “You’re going to teach me to be a Ghalian?”
She grinned. “No, nothing of the sort, I am afraid. But we can teach you how to handle yourself should you find you have landed in a difficult situation in the future. Would you like that?”
“That’d be great,” he said, his mood lifting.
“But be forewarned,” Hozark said. “Training of this nature is not easy, and it will require much effort on your part. But if you truly apply yourself, I feel you could very well become a formidable adversary, in time. Yet you shall not begin as such. You may fail at times. In fact, you will, and often at first. But that is how we all started out. There is no easy path here, but the end is worth the effort. Can you commit to this?”
Hap nodded his head. “I can,” he replied. “I’ll be ready. First thing tomorrow.”
Hozark chuckled. “Oh, young Jinnik. We start today.”
Chapter Four
“Again,” Demelza said.
Happizano reacted by bending into a forward roll, whacking his head and shoulder on the thin training mat she had laid out on the compartment’s floor. It was a courtesy for the youth. Ghalian assassins never used mats for training. The pain of mistakes was a great motivator, and the footing tended to be a bit different than in real combat.
But Hap was just a boy, and not a Wampeh Ghalian aspirant. And he was starting from scratch with nary a minute of combat training in him. And growing up in a luxurious estate tower as he had, he lacked even the most rudimentary skills many of his peers possessed after a childhood of falling down and getting up again.
It was painful. Painful and boring. But Hap did as Demelza said and executed a rather crude forward roll for the umpteenth time.
“Better,” she said. “Now backward.”
He did as she asked, rolling as she had shown him, his head pushing to one side, allowing his body to curl backward over his rounded shoulders.
“Forward.”
He rolled forward again, this time over the opposite shoulder. He had found that he favored his right side more than his left. Something Demelza had told him was quite common.
“Most have a favored side,” she said. “It is a weakness you can learn to take advantage of, in time.”
“What’s your favored side?” he asked her.
“Wampeh Ghalian train to be entirely ambidextrous in combat.”
“Ambi what?”
“Ambidextrous. It means we use our left and right side interchangeably. We have no favored side. It makes it far easier to not only deal with opponents who favor either left or right, but it also makes it more difficult for them to counter our attacks. Shifting stances is not something most train in, and it is a weakness we exploit.”
“Then I want to be ambidostris.”
“Ambidextrous,” she corrected. “And it is my hope to eventually help you attain that goal. But first, you must learn the most basic of skills. And that is how to fall without hurting yourself. A great many fights wind up on the ground, and it is quite often that impact that causes more damage than the event causing it.”
“But you don’t fall.”
“Not much, anymore. But that is because of years of training. And rest assured, Hap, I still wind up on the ground at times. We all do. And not always from combat. In fact, once, I was thrown from a spooked Malooki that came up short and sent me flying over its head.”
“A Malooki? Weren’t you hurt?”
“That is where this training came in handy. It was muscle memory. Instinctive. As I flew through the air, my body knew what to do. And that was a variant of what you are practicing right now. Rolling out of a fall to allow your body to spread the load of the impact and lessen its force, all while redirecting it to your benefit, bringing you back to your feet once more. I shall demonstrate.”
Demelza took a few steps back, then lunged forward, executing a diving front roll. It was nothing for her, but for the boy it seemed a most impressive feat of physical prowess. She then ran to the wall, jumped high, her legs bending and absorbing the impact then pushing her backward into a diving roll the other way.
“That’s so cool!”
“Yes. And useful in combat. To be able to use any abrupt shift in your physical positioning to your advantage. But today, we focus on the most important and basic principle. Keeping your body from harm. But you’ve been training well. Let us give you a break from that for a moment and work on a bit of body positioning.”
Hozark strolled into the chamber to watch the boy’s progress. Demelza was a fine teacher, and if she ever wished to have that title officially, he would be certain to put in a good word for her with the other four of the masters of the order. She had most definitely earned it and proven her worth on more than one occasion.
As she had young Hap practice standing in a slightly lowered stance, learning to find his center and control his balance, Hozark found himself reminiscing about his own initiation at roughly that same age. He had been taken from his world by a strange man and transported to an even stranger facility. One full of Wampeh. Wampeh just like him.
