The Ghalian Code: Space Assassins 3

by Scott Baron

  “Come on, you,” he said to Demelza as they reached the door to command. “We’ve gotta go tell the captain where I sent the others and what’s going on in ’is ship.”

  “Right behind you,” she said in her best pirate growl.

  This was the moment of truth. When they would see if their bluff worked all the way or if they would have to slay the pirates who would ultimately be fighting the Council invaders.

  It was something they desperately wanted to avoid. All they wanted was to retrieve the boy. And the more pirates they could leave standing to continue fighting the Tslavars at their backs, the better.

  The guards had seen what had just gone down, and watched their comrades hurry off at the command of this stranger. But the laws of the herd were strong, and they too seemed to fall in line with the group mentality.

  Hozark smiled to himself when the men stepped aside and let him pass. Whatever they had to face inside the command center, it would be done in private.

  And when he and Demelza were done, they would most definitely be leaving with the visla’s son back in their possession.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, he walked into the chamber with Demelza at his back. She turned immediately, shutting the door behind them and quietly casting muting spells to silence any shouts of warning or alarm that might come from within.

  They were going to get Happizano back, and while they would prefer to leave the pirates standing to fight the Council threat, they would do whatever was required. And that might be bloody.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Hozark and Demelza, in the middle of a pirate-versus-Council battle, and clad as pirates as they were, entered the command center without much of a fuss being raised.

  In fact, given the chaos of the current battle swirling both outside and inside the ship, their presence was not all that odd at all.

  “What the hell’s going on out there?” the captain yelled out. “I’ve been trying to get a godsdamned sitrep for the last five minutes!”

  The half dozen of the captain’s personal guards tried to look calm as the man railed on, but they knew how he could be when riled up. Fortunately, his line of questioning wasn’t directed at them.

  Hozark realized he was talking to the newcomers.

  “It’s a fucking mess, is what’s going on,” the Wampeh replied with a piratey growl. “Most recent was the group that boarded through the galley. It’s been a bloody fight, but it looks like we’re holding our own.”

  The captain smiled, but without any real joy behind it. He’d take whatever good news he could get, but this conflict was far, far from over.

  Seated behind Captain Darvin was a young, violet-skinned boy, staring silently at the ground. He looked terrified, and though no magic was being used to hold him there, he seemed glued in place.

  “What’s with the kid?” Hozark asked. “Seems kinda quiet for being in the middle of all of this.”

  Darvin grabbed Hap by the scruff of his shirt and hauled him roughly to his feet.

  “The little bastard tried to use a stun spell on me. Can you fucking believe that? On my own fucking ship?”

  “The balls on that one,” Hozark agreed.

  “Ha. They haven’t even dropped yet. And lucky for me, probably.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because,” the captain said, pulling back Hap’s shirt to reveal the slender, golden control collar around his neck, “this little shit actually has some power in him. And he tried to use it against me. Against me!”

  “Incredible,” Hozark said, glancing at Hap.

  The boy’s bloodshot eyes spoke volumes about his treatment at the hands of the pirates since he’d been captured, and Hozark felt the anger inside himself growing. It was an unusual sensation for him, as he almost never had an emotional reaction to any of the myriad situations he had found himself in over the years.

  But this boy had been mistreated. Mistreated and made into a slave. And that simply would not do.

  “So, what’s the plan for the little scamp?” he asked.

  “I’ve been trying to offload him on Drommus, but there were no takers. But when I mentioned he might have some power, one of the crews that fly with some of Visla Ravik’s Tslavars when they’re not out on Council business said that he’s been rounding up any kind of power he can find. I thought maybe this kid might be of interest to him.”

  “So you contacted him? Is that why these ships are here? A Council double-cross?”

  “Nah, I wish it was so simple. I was about to try to reach that Ravik character when one of my old friends let me in on a little secret.”

  “A secret?”

  “Yeah. Ravik isn’t the one really in charge. He’s just another visla’s bitch. A guy named Maktan.”

  “I’ve heard the name,” Hozark said, flashing a glance at Demelza. “But I heard he was always a pretty benign one. For the Council, that is.”

  “Well, looks can be deceiving. That bastard’s neck-deep in dirty shit across a dozen systems, apparently. Lots of blood on his hands. And the crazy bastard actually tried to catch one of the Ghalian masters. Can you believe that? Fucking madness, that is.”

  “You’re right about that,” Hozark agreed. “And this little bastard is going to him next?”

  “If he pays. And if we survive.”

  Another glance and Demelza took over the conversation, shifting to the business of the attack at hand while Hozark walked over as if to get a better look at the young boy.

  “What of these invaders, though? We’re in command. You have to know how many breaches there were from here,” she said as Hozark squatted down close to the captive boy.

  He had hidden in his hand a fine, delicate piece of cloth, no larger than a thin ribbon, really. It was golden, however. Woven from Ootaki hair. And as Hozark pretended to examine the child, he casually began wrapping it around his control collar.

  Once in place, the Ootaki magic would block out the collar’s spells, freeing the wearer, for a time, at least. Fortunately, the collar was a weak one. He was just a kid, after all, and there was no sense wasting valuable magic on him that didn’t have to be.

  “Shh,” Hozark quietly told the boy as his fingers worked.

  Just a few feet away, Captain Darvin’s attention was tuned to the Wampeh’s associate as he surveyed the original breach information his second-in-command had provided him.

  “Six breaches that we knew of before losing contact with our people. They must be blocking our skrees somehow.”

  “Sounds like a Council tactic,” Demelza replied. “But only six?”

  “That we know of, I said. Fortunately, this ship is a bit unusual in its design, and the Drook chamber is not where it would normally be expected. A convenient little trick for just this sort of occasion. They may have boarded, but we can still fly so long as my Drooks remain safely hidden.”

  “You have guards with them?”

  “Of course I do,” he replied, a bit wary of all the questions being thrown his way. “Who exactly did you say you were, again?”

  Demelza was about to formulate a clever reply to hopefully salvage their situation, when a burst of youthful impulsiveness stepped in to ruin any such plans.

  “Hozark!” Happizano abruptly blurted when the binding spell on his collar was finally blocked by the Ootaki hair.

  Captain Darvin and his men all spun to see what had happened. Why the spells had suddenly failed. Why this strange pirate even possessed Ootaki hair in the first place.

  “You were supposed to remain silent, young Jinnik,” Hozark said with a sigh.

  The captain's guards were the toughest, largest, and best armed of the entire crew, and they had just shifted from casual readiness to deadly intent.

  Hozark rose, pushing the boy to the corner of the room. “Oh well. There is nothing for it now,” he said, surprising the men by tossing his sword away.

  The confusion only lasted a moment, however, as he then drew the glowing blue vespus blade
from his back.

  The men were all notably uncomfortable at the sight of the weapon, if not knowing exactly who, and what, they were dealing with, being aware that their new opponent was something far different than they’d initially expected. Different, and dangerous.

  To their credit, they held their ground, even going so far as to begin a threatening advance.

  “You can stop now and focus your attentions on the real enemy aboard this ship,” Hozark said. “I only want the boy.”

  “Get him!” Darvin said, swinging his sword at Demelza, who quickly blocked his attack and drove her sword through his chest.

  It was a rather humiliatingly fast demise for the feared captain of a band of rough and deadly Outlanders. But he had just learned a vital lesson. One he took to heart, quite literally, with Demelza’s fatal blow.

  Never underestimate your opponent just because she’s a woman.

  A similar lesson applied to believing yourself at an advantage merely because you possessed numerical superiority. But not all were fast on the uptake.

  The guards, rather than taking the hint, seemed to have their resolve strengthened at the sight of their fallen captain.

  “Very well, then,” Hozark said. “If you are truly certain you wish to do this, we may as well begin.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  It should have been a straightforward slaughter, over almost as soon as it began, but there was one little problem. Literally little. A young boy, in fact.

  “We’ve gotta get out of here!” he cried out, rushing right past everyone.

  “No! Hap, do not––” Hozark called after him.

  It was too late.

  The boy threw the door open wide, dissipating the carefully laid muting spells Demelza had put in place. Worse yet, the abrupt opening made people on the other side take note. Even worse than that was the fact that there was now a full-fledged battle underway in that corridor.

  And it immediately spilled into the command chamber.

  The guards, faced with the choice of fighting off Ghalian assassins or Tslavar mercenaries, shifted their focus to the deadly, though far less deadly, invaders. This left a small but very exploitable window for the Wampeh to make their escape.

  The room was a kill box of a sort. At least with that many bodies in it. The corridors, on the other hand, were open enough, and branched off at regular intervals, allowing one to move and flow with a battle.

  “Happizano, stay by my side,” Hozark commanded.

  The stubborn child, for once, heeded his call.

  With the boy between them, Hozark and Demelza led him out into the fray, deflecting stray attacks and slaying those making intentional ones. The farther they managed to get from the command center, the easier it was becoming to move. It seemed the Council forces had congregated there, hoping for a decisive victory.

  Only, the pair of Ghalian assassins spoiled their fun, and were now speeding off through the ship, slaying all who attempted to halt their progress. Demelza and Hozark had room to work now, and they spread out a bit farther to better control the area around them.

  Demelza circled to the front, leading the drive ahead, while Hozark engaged a group of pursuing Tslavars. It seemed word had gotten out that the boy had escaped, and the enemy was now on their tail.

  “We need to get to one of their boarding craft and commandeer it,” Hozark called out to his partner. “It is the only way to break free of this madness.”

  Demelza nodded once and pushed ahead. She knew precisely where one of those ships had latched onto the hull, and they could be there in under a minute, if fighting stayed light.

  Naturally, at that moment, another wave of battling pirates and mercenaries flowed into their path, their fight spilling from corridor to corridor. Demelza wielded her sword and dagger with grace and speed as she attempted to clear an exit route for them, when a flash of gleaming blue whipped at her head from the side.

  She barely managed to duck, deflecting the vespus blade at the last instant with her sword.

  “You,” she said, knowing the attacker’s weapon before she even saw the woman wielding it.

  Samara smiled her pointy-toothed grin and laid into the woman, a flurry of blows raining down on Demelza like a storm beating upon a ship tossing at sea.

  But then, slowly, and much to Samara’s surprise, Demelza began to gain her footing. To find a flow. To, incredibly, hold her own against one of the greatest swordswomen the Ghalian had ever known.

  She shifted from defense to offense, her sword and dagger moving at blinding speeds as she forced Samara to give up her ground and defend for once. For the vespus-wielding assassin, it was a novel experience, and Samara actually smiled at her when they broke free and began circling one another.

  “You’ve gotten better,” Samara said.

  “And you’ve not learned when to leave well enough alone,” Demelza replied, then launched into a series of strikes, parries, and false attacks.

  She was putting on an impressive display, and though she was still no match for the woman’s skills, Demelza could at least delay her long enough for Hozark to join the fray.

  And join he would.

  Hozark disposed of a trio of Tslavar attackers, then stepped back and let the pirates press ahead in an attempt to reclaim this section of the ship. He turned, already aware of Samara’s presence by the faint tug of magic from the necklace she was wearing. A deadly gift he’d given her ages ago. A pendant that contained potent magic, should she ever find herself in need.

  Never had he pictured himself being the potential recipient of that magic.

  Samara’s eyes darted to the boy hiding behind Hozark. He stood firm in front of the youth, protecting him with his body in a way she had never thought she’d see him behave.

  “I have to take him, Hozark. Please, just give him to me and walk away.”

  “You know that will not be happening, Sam.”

  “Don’t be foolish. You are hopelessly outnumbered here. And before you say you are making a good showing against the boarding parties, just know, this is only a small first wave intended to feel out the ship’s defenses. The real boarding teams are just now arriving.”

  He actually felt the shift in the pirate ship’s pressure as either a large number of small craft, or a small number of large ones, pierced the hull and soft-sealed with it as they sent their forces inside.

  She saw the realization in his eyes. “Give him up, Hozark.”

  “You know that is not happening,” he replied, steeling himself for the onslaught. “But tell me, Sam. Why are you tied up in all of this? It is unlike you. He is just a boy. An innocent.”

  It was the tiniest of flickers, but he saw a flash of remorse in her eyes.

  “You know it is the wrong thing to do,” he said, pressing the issue.

  “Let it go, Hozark. I do not wish to harm you, but I will if I have to,” she replied.

  “Then I am afraid you will have to,” he shot back. “I see your blade is properly powered this time.”

  “As is yours. But not for long,” she replied.

  She cocked her head a fraction and smiled. Then she leapt into action just as a wave of newly boarded Council forces flowed into the mix.

  Demelza instantly had her hands full, driven back toward where Hozark and Samara had already engaged in their deadly dance.

  Samara didn’t care about the Tslavars, and several fell by her hand as well as Hozark’s if they got in the way of her progress. The pair of glowing blue blades crackled with energy as they clashed, each of them ready to do their master’s bidding, but finding their progress stymied by a weapon of similar abilities.

  Demelza took the opportunity the former lovers’ battle afforded her and pushed Happizano into a corner, then positioned herself in front of him to best keep him safe.

  One after another, her attackers fell, piling up in a bloody stack all around her while Hozark and Samara did the same with any hapless enough to get in the way.

&n
bsp; “Your skills have not lost a step,” Hozark said as he and Samara broke free, circling one another.

  “And yours have grown impressively,” she replied. “And that Orkut blade of yours. I must admit, it is most impressive.”

  Hozark dipped his head in a nod of acknowledgment.

  The two had been more than just friends. More than just lovers. They’d come as close as Wampeh Ghalian could ever come to being a bonded pair. And while that simply was not done, the connection between them apparently still remained. And despite the years that had passed, and the fact they were now trying to kill one another, it was, nevertheless, readily apparent to both.

  “It is a shame it has to be this way,” Hozark said. “You could come back to the order. It is not too late.”

  Samara sighed. “If only you knew of what you speak. My way is cast in stone. My path is clear. And, dearest, you are standing in that path.”

  He smiled at her, a sad look in his eye, knowing only one of them would walk away from this engagement today.

  Hozark jumped back, nearly bumping into Demelza when a fighting cluster of Council goons and pirates abruptly spilled in from an adjacent chamber. It was of no matter. They’d clear out, and the two assassins would get back to their task at hand.

  Or so they thought.

  Samara’s eyes went wide as she felt the magic in the air. She spun to where the Council forces were arriving from to see a Council caster rushing into the mix. He was obviously not acquainted with the rules of battles aboard ships in space, made painfully apparent by the rather powerful spells he was casting with reckless abandon.

  All of the combatants, Tslavar and pirate alike, ceased their fighting, all yelling out at once some variation of, “Stop, you fool!” But their voices were lost, as it was already too late.

  His spells had done their work far too well, and the man was about to receive a first-hand lesson on the reasons no one, not even a Council representative, cast combat spells in space.