by Scott Baron
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“But I’m just a pilot. I’m not a spy. I don’t know anything about––”
“You have a good sense for Council tactics, and an outsider’s eyes can oftentimes prove quite valuable in revealing what so-called experts fail to see.”
Laskar took the list and studied it a long moment. “Well, if you really want my opinion, I would think one of these three would be the best bet. I mean, all of the ones I marked have good potential, but from what your list says, these three also have walled-in landing areas within the compound, as well as a smaller residence detached from the main property. Seems like the perfect place to hole up while keeping the main building seemingly empty.”
“Yet having the benefit of those facilities nearby for creature comforts, should they be required,” Demelza mused. “An unusual appraisal of the situation, but I like it. Master Hozark? What are your thoughts?
Hozark nodded approvingly. “You have a knack for this, Laskar,” he said. “I shall reach out to the Ghalian network and have them redirect their efforts to these three properties in particular. It will take our operatives a day or two to make contact, but we should have an idea if your hunch is correct soon enough. You have done well.”
Laskar nearly blushed at the praise. “Well, I don’t know about that,” he replied. “Let’s just hope I was actually right.”
Hozark nodded. “We shall soon find out. For the moment, however, we shall await their report with Master Prombatz.”
Chapter Nine
Prombatz was only slightly surprised to see Hozark and the others return so soon. Had their intel been accurate, it made perfect sense that they would have completed their contract and ended Maktan as quickly as possible.
But it seemed that was not the case, and from what Hozark had informed him, it could be some time before they acquired the actual location of their target. Laskar’s contribution to the search, however, had impressed the master Ghalian. Hozark’s flying companion possessed a bit more strategic insight than one would have assumed, given his usual demeanor.
Being promoted to captain, even if but temporarily, seemed to agree with the man, and he settled into the role with a fair bit of relish. Uzabud would be back with them soon enough, but for now, Laskar was in charge of the mothership, and he was enjoying the boost in status.
“How strong were the defenses?” Prombatz asked as he and Hozark strolled the grounds.
“Fair, but not particularly difficult,” he replied. “Demelza and I made quick work of the only pair of sentries that would be an issue. The rest of the estate, while well-protected, was not at all a challenge to move through.”
“Shimmer cloaks?”
“Yes, as well as a few cast disguises. All rather standard efforts, but with a non-productive outcome.”
“All of that just for show, then?” Prombatz mused. “It would seem your assessment of the Council’s countermeasures is correct, then. Diversionary tactics intended to draw out would-be assailants while hiding the true location of the remaining nineteen members. This could make things a bit more difficult.”
“Indeed. However, Laskar’s insights were quite logical. I have hopes one of the targets he suggested will prove to be as he posits they might.”
“Ah, yes. He does seem to have stepped up his game since taking charge of Uzabud’s ship during his absence. I must wonder if perhaps he would be better served captaining his own craft, rather than flying second-in-command aboard another’s.”
“Perhaps when this is all resolved,” Hozark said. “He is proving his worth, that is for certain. But tell me, has Happizano made progress in these past few days?”
“He and Aargun do appear to enjoy one another’s company, and teaching the boy does raise both of their spirits, though I must admit, I believe your violet-haired friend’s ability to communicate with him is a treat Aargun sorely misses.”
“If I know Uzabud, he is doing everything in his power to ensure Henni’s safe return.”
“May he be successful in his endeavor,” Prombatz quietly said.
Having lost Aargun to the Council’s agents in an ambush that had been meant for him had left the Ghalian master with a lingering drive for at least a modicum of revenge. It was not normally the Ghalian way, but, much as the killing of Master Orkut had affected Hozark and Demelza, what had been done to Aargun had made things personal for Prombatz.
Death, injury, torture, all were normal risks of their profession. But what the aspiring assassin had suffered crossed a line. They were trying to do something with the Ghalian. Experiments had been conducted. And with the recent rescue of a feral young Ghalian amidst a crashed ship of enslaved Ootaki and Drooks, they finally had a good idea what.
Maktan had been attempting to steal the Ghalian ability to take another’s power. He had failed with Aargun, but the discovery of a feral youth who possessed the gift among the powered captives being experimented upon showed that this was no one-off attempt. The visla was trying to find a way to make that power his own. Anything to make himself even more dangerous than he already was.
“How is the boy?” Hozark asked, referring to the malnourished, wild young Wampeh. “Corann should have had him placed with the healers by now.”
“Yes, he has been nourished and cleaned up from his ordeal, but he does not speak any dialect our translation spells can identify, which is making these early stages of rehabilitation a bit difficult.”
“Odd. The spell should work for all languages,” Hozark mused.
“Yes, most odd. But I wonder if it might be possible he is truly feral. That he never learned a real language for the spell to translate.”
It was a novel idea, and it did make sense, for one could not translate grunts and growls that had no defined meaning. But that would put the boy on the same linguistic level as an animal. If that were the case, Corann’s people would have their work cut out for them.
“Whatever the issue, I am sure every effort is being made to help him adapt to his new life,” Hozark said. “Our people will do all they can in that regard. The boy clearly possesses the gift, and he is strong at that.”
“Yes, but without communication, and at his age, no less, it shall be difficult to train him in the ways of the order. To bring him into the fold.”
Hozark nodded, pondering the unusual scenario. “Time, Brother Prombatz. It is something we are fortunate to possess in abundance, for it seems our new ward’s recovery and subsequent training shall require a lot of it.”
The following afternoon, the group assembled out in an open dining area beside the building Prombatz had been calling home. The air was warm and clear, and the food plentiful and good, having been sourced from nearby farm stands.
Happizano was in a fantastic mood, happily showing off the moves he had been practicing while the others were away. Hozark and Demelza were quite pleased with his surprising progress.
“Well done, young Jinnik. You have put in much effort, I can see.”
“Thanks, Hozark. Aargun and Prombatz have been really great.”
“Not bad, I’ve gotta admit,” Laskar added.
For the copilot to admit anyone had done anything well was a bit of a surprise given his usual cocky attitude. It seemed that taking on the pilot’s mantle had helped mellow him in more ways than one.
“Master Hozark?” a servant said.
“Yes?”
“A visitor requests you,” she said, pointing to a stocky, deep red-colored man with three-fingered hands, a thick beard of bristling, wire-like hair, and plate-like ridges of hardened tissue that gave his shoulders the look of a linebacker.
“If you will excuse me a moment,” he said to the others.
Hozark walked to the visitor, who gave a slight bow before engaging in their discussion. It took only a few minutes, then the man turned and left.
“What was that all about?” Laskar asked.
“Dohria has informed me that Visla Maktan is almost c
ertainly at one of the targets you helped identify, Laskar. Well done.”
The copilot looked confused. “Hang on a minute. Dohria sent that guy to pass on the message? I thought she always did it herself, like all of your spies.”
“Oh, that was Dohria,” Hozark clarified.
“That? But that was a totally different person. And gender. And species, even.”
“Yes. A most impressive feat, even among our kind. And now you can see why she is by far our top operative.”
Laskar let out a whistle. “Holy shit, that’s amazing. I mean, I’m not like Henni or you guys, but I usually can sense magic on someone, but she gave off almost nothing.”
Prombatz nodded. “She is known for using a great many conventional methods of disguise along with her magic, though she is uniquely talented in masking her spells as well. It is an incredibly rare gift, and one that allows her to perform her job all the better.”
“Indeed. And now her efforts have given us Maktan’s real location. And, again, thank you, Laskar, for helping narrow the search,” Hozark said.
“No problem, I’m glad to help. But which one was it?”
“Visla Maktan is quietly hiding at his estate on Trazzip.”
“Trazzip? That was the smallest of the ones on the list.”
“Yes, though it is still a somewhat palatial estate. However, Dohria informs me the main building appears to be entirely buttoned-up and unoccupied, and only a modest cruiser is parked in the courtyard landing site.”
“A ruse?” Demelza asked.
“Indeed. No one expects a visla, let alone one of the Twenty, to be at any location, even one as small as this, without making a fuss. There is normally a rather large retinue attending the Twenty, and very overt security forces scrutinizing any who come close. It is what makes them so difficult to eliminate, even on the incredibly rare occasion of there being a Ghalian contract on them.”
“So he’s there unguarded?” Laskar asked.
“Oh, he is most certainly guarded,” Hozark replied. “Just in a manner that is not readily seen. We shall have our work cut out for us, drawing close and landing a killing blow before he is able to focus his considerable power against us.”
“And if he senses you coming before you’re close enough?” Laskar asked.
Hozark paused a long moment. “Let us ensure that does not happen,” he finally replied. “For I intend for only one person to fall in the completion of this contract, no matter how difficult it may be. And his name is Zinna Maktan.”
Chapter Ten
The intel had been checked and double-checked, the network of spies and informants quietly verifying many individual snippets of a far larger picture. Only a very select few agents, such as Dohria, knew the full scope of what was being sought out. And everything had checked out. This was definitely what they sought.
“Slowly, and from afar,” Hozark instructed their pilot. “With the utmost caution. We shall have but one chance at this.”
Laskar nodded and continued his work plotting their course to the quiet little world of Trazzip. It resided in a lightly populated system with but four planets orbiting its warm yellow sun. There was little in the way of trade or resources to speak of, but for a quiet little retreat, the world served its purpose quite well.
It seemed about as simple a final jump as any might make, but the pilot knew full well that any rapid approach or abrupt maneuver could very well trigger whatever hidden security measures Visla Maktan’s guard had put in place.
Much of the additional magic sprinkled throughout the approach vector was fairly standard in form. Just a smattering of wards and warning spells, any of which could be triggered by the mere presence of a craft regardless of its intent in the system. But those were obviously placed for a reason.
Carefully hidden in the inky black were an additional layer of spells, cast in such a manner that all but the most skilled would miss their presence entirely. If some mercenary or ruffian attempted to avoid the only mostly hidden wards, they would steer themselves right into the true security measures. And the results would almost certainly be fatal. And that was the point.
The key to this somewhat difficult approach was to fly as if you hadn’t a care in the world rather than taking evasive actions. To avoid the most obvious of spells, but to trip the more hidden ones as if taken by surprise. No real damage would be done, but the clumsy triggering of those initial smaller spells would make the ship appear to be precisely what it was not.
An innocent craft stumbling across a hidden defensive ward.
“Anything?” Hozark asked as Laskar maneuvered toward the glowing orb of Trazzip.
“Just a little turbulence,” Laskar joked.
“We are in space, Laskar. There is no turbulence.”
“Well, yeah,” he replied with a chuckle. “But seriously, it’s just a few trigger spells. Nothing major, though I did have to slightly alter course to make sure I hit a few more of them. Gotta put on a good show, after all.”
“So long as we do not stray into the real defenses, we shall be fine. Good work.”
“Thanks. So, where exactly do you want me to put the ship down? Not anywhere near the visla’s estate, obviously, but it’s not a really busy planet. Our options are kind of slim.”
“Dohria mentioned this issue and offered an interesting solution.”
“Oh?”
“There is a recreation facility on the far side of the world.”
“I didn’t see any mention of that in the notes.”
“You wouldn’t have. It is, how shall I put it? An establishment of a unique nature. One whose visitors typically do not wish to announce their true reasons for visiting.”
Laskar sat quietly a long moment, seemingly confused by Hozark’s circuitous description. “I don’t get it.”
Hozark sighed. It seemed his attempts at a genteel description had failed. His fellow Wampeh cracked a little grin.
“It is a whorehouse, Laskar,” Demelza blurted. “Is that clear enough?”
The pilot’s posture straightened, as did other parts of him, no doubt. “Well, why didn’t you say so? You want me to, uh, really sell the deception?”
“If you wish,” Hozark replied. “The facility does offer regular massage services, as well as a full spa. Amuse yourself as you wish for the first hour or so after we depart. But after that we shall require your return to the ship to monitor for our skree call in case of any emergency situation.”
“Okay. But how are you going to get all the way to the estate without being noticed? Your ships were mounted to the hull when we started our approach. They’ll notice if you detach now.”
Hozark smiled. “Oh, dear Laskar. Demelza and I activated our craft-mounted shimmer cloaks before we made our final jump. To any observers, those two ships have never been in the system at all.”
“Wait, I didn’t know you did that. And aren’t those incredibly costly to maintain through a jump?”
“Yes, they are quite a drain on magic if left engaged for a jump. However, as we are mounted to this far larger vessel, we simply tapped into the additional reserves to increase the spell’s power and keep from draining our ships as we make the approach.”
“Huh. That’s pretty clever.”
“Thank you. It is not our preferred method, but given the circumstances, it seemed our best option. When you land, we shall disengage our docking spells and fly free, all within the far less magically draining confines of the planet’s atmosphere.”
It was a flaw shimmer cloaking possessed. The masking spells could hide a ship in space, but the power draw was massive, and the results were often lackluster and not worth the amount of magic expended.
Piggybacking as they had done provided an unusual work around for the situation at hand, using the bulk of the mothership to not only provide a more convenient surface to camouflage against, but also a secondary power source that allowed the ships to remain fully charged until they launched.
“See those
?” Laskar asked, pointing out a smattering of cargo craft and small shuttles dotting the landscape.
“Yes,” Hozark replied.
“Those are all Council ships. The visla has a whole shitload of backup hiding out around here, disguised as civilian craft.”
“Yes, I am aware,” the master assassin said. “But very astute of you to notice. Many would have taken those craft at face value. How did you discern their true nature?”
“The way they’re parked,” he replied. “Like, they’re all supposed to be on the ground doing whatever, but each of those ships is still in launch configuration and ready to fly at a moment’s notice. Civilians don’t do that. But Council goons and mercenaries? Oh yeah, that’s second nature.”
Hozark let out a low chuckle. “Well done, Laskar. Very well done.”
“So, what are you two going to do now?”
“Demelza and I shall fly to the visla’s estate. From there we shall begin our infiltration. As the situation is fluid, we shall then devise our final plan once inside the compound walls.”
“You gonna skewer him from behind?”
“I doubt I could draw my blade close to him without it being noticed. He is a visla, after all, and though the meek and relatively harmless façade may cause him to appear an easy target, given what we have learned of his actions so far, I have reason to believe with some certainty that is anything but the case.”
“We shall be forced to adapt and modify on the ground,” Demelza added. “Normally a trap would likely be enough. Plenty have walked right into our spells in the past, but with Visla Ravik dead and a power grab in motion, it seems very likely they will be on high alert. The other Council members are too opportunistic to let a chance to consolidate more power slip by.”
“Demelza is correct, of course,” Hozark noted. “Which means we shall be forced to perform a full infiltration on short notice.”
“Wait, you’re going to do the disguise thing and walk right in?” Laskar asked incredulously.
“Indeed. There is simply too much left to chance if we leave trap spells for the man. He might not trigger them, and we must be absolutely certain his fall is permanent.”
