Madame Blood

“The life of galactic assassin is hard,” the Nirmalia priestess said. The assassin listened aptly. “Yet, it is a life that you, Rosalie Jala, codename Scarlett and by grace of the Dark Queen, have come to know.”

In a previous life, Scarlett and her family lived peacefully in her home world of Traxxos. On a fateful day, her memories would forever remain tainted with the memories of General Moshan LoDand and his renegade army from Ornia, his home world. It was his invasion of Traxxos and the slaughter of her people that would change a twelve-year-old Rosalie in ways she could never imagine.

The priestess closed her Book of Darkness. “You have grown, however, ever since you began living among us. There have been many roadblocks which you have overcome, many lessons learned on your path.” The priestess shuffled her small frame towards a wooden box; she retrieved a charm and handed it to Scarlett. “This charm represents enlightenment. One day, if it is not too late, your feet will move you in this direction.”

Stuffing the enlightenment charm in her pocket, Scarlett left the temple, soaking up the mid-morning sun. The Spotted Egg was her first stop. Even without bright lights, Scarlett recognized a familiar figure seated in the corner, closest to the bar.

“Captain Malachai,” Scarlett said. “What brings you to Digstown?”

Black Malachai Minton, also known as Overkill, looked up from his drink. “As if the gods couldn’t bless me further,” he responded with a smirk. “Fancy meeting you here as well. This is Raven, my First Mate.” After exchanging curt greetings with the captain’s stocky second-in-command, Malachai invited Scarlett to sit. “We’re about to have some breakfast.” He called for another plate. Moments later, Scarlett’s stomach was growling with the smells of eggs, sausage and fresh baked bread.

“You’re not taking another break from pirating, are you?” Scarlett asked. She attacked the sausage and eggs.

Raven barked a laugh. “That would be the calm before the storm. Every time we disappear and come back, planets tremble and ambassadors literally shit themselves.” Scarlett could not help but observe Raven’s peculiar features; pointy beard, thick sideburns and hard brown eyes that drooped.

“Almost accurate, First Mate,” Malachai said with a mouth full of egg. “It’s when we’re in full swing that things get interesting.” After washing down his food with cold ale, Malachai turned to Scarlett, “To be honest, I was looking for you, hoping to discuss some business. Are you exclusively employed by Vante?”

The captain is resourceful. “My agreement with Vante is open, I can accept other work so long as it doesn’t interfere with Vante’s contracts.” Her eyes narrowed as she chewed on her eggs. “Why do you ask?”

“I have a problem that needs sorting out. I’m looking for someone that can handle themselves but won’t get sloppy.” Malachai paused, choosing his next words carefully. “I need a specific target removed.”

“Who is the target?”

Malachai pulled a small hologram beacon and placed it on the table. The image of an older woman appeared. “Don’t let her stately features fool you. Madam Selma Darwish is as cruel as a gorgonup. Twice, Madam Selma has interfered with my operations, twice I have lost crew members and a large sum of dramtas.”

“If that’s the case, why haven’t you killed her?” Scarlett asked.

“Here’s the thing: Madame Selma recently paid a visit to the Tadaen Star System. Word on the street is that the madame has connections within the Galactic Circle, so much so that she’s blackmailing the Tadaen ambassador. If I kill or threaten her, then her evidence of the ambassador’s dealings with galactic pirates, such as myself, would be uploaded to the Galactic Circle. You can imagine the shitstorm.”

“That sounds like a big risk,” Scarlett said.

“Yes, one I can’t jeopardize.” Captain Malachai clicked a button, revealing another image. It was a being with red skin, blue eyes and black hair fashioned in the style of the Zuttoman; cut short on the sides, long on top. “This is her personal bodyguard, Balak from the planet Nata. You’ll have to eliminate him if he stands in your way and destroy any evidence Madame Selma might have.”

“If I were to take this contract, where can I find her?”

“Last my sources tell me, the madame is on Tali. Not too far away from the ambassador’s homeworld but far enough to not raise suspicion.” Malachai handed Scarlett a sack. “Thirty thousand dramtas as a down payment. Once the job is complete and proof of death is shown, the other half will be gold.”

She stared at the sack in front of her, allowing Raven to order another round of drinks. “If I paid a visit to the ambassador, would he be able to help me?”

Malachai shrugged his massive shoulders. “Selma’s people are watching him. Best to stay away from Falonhold, for now.”

This contract won’t be easy. “I don’t have much to go on.” Scarlett took a long gulp of her ale.

“I would be lying to you, if I said this contract was easy.” It was Malachai who took a swig. “You of all people know how fast things can go sideways. I could give it to someone else, but since my reputation is on the line, you’re my best option.”

Scarlett gave the contract another thought, taking another gulp of ale. Finally, she snatched the sack from the table. “Agreed. I’ll let Vante know about my contract with you.”

Malachai nodded. “You can find the esteemed madame either at her mansion, or in her general store.” He had a sudden thought before Scarlett left the Spotted Egg. “Do not underestimate Madame Selma; she didn’t become the head of her organization just on looks alone.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The flight to the Tadaen Star System was uneventful; she became familiar with bribes ever since her mysterious client, known only as the warrant officer became her client. From the Red Star’s cockpit, Scarlett spotted the multi-coloured planet. Her descent went as planned, except for a sleek looking craft that hovered, as though watching Scarlett enter Tali airspace. At the safehouse, provided by Captain Malachai, she pored over her hologram map, looking at every street, laneway and other means of travel to find the quickest exit out of Tali.

Scarlett was given the coordinates from one of Selma’s employees at the general store, a being from the planet Huul. The Huulian, at first was on the defence thinking her job would be taken, until Scarlett, using an assumed name, gave her a story about looking for work as a house servant. The Huulian, with her amber eyes set wide apart, beige scaly skin and forked tongue regarded Scarlett with another look before sending away with the coordinates.

Madame Selma’s mansion was in the north of Tali’s capital city, Saraq. An affluent neighbourhood, the row of white mansions with its neatly paved walkways were the envy of the rest city. Scarlett’s disguise was that of a servant girl looking for work. Her ship was hidden in a field behind the row of houses; the madam would have been suspicious if she arrived in her craft. It was the afternoon when Scarlett arrived at Madame Selma’s residence. She headed to the side door and buzzed. Not long after the madame’s bodyguard opened the door with a soft hiss.

“State your business,” Balak ordered.

“I was told the madame was looking for a servant,” she said. Scarlett noticed the scars on Balak’s face. “I’ve worked in Violet City before my previous employers decided to retire to Caslon.”

“You’re a long way from home,” Balak rasped. “We don’t get many coming from Ges. Head to the basement, Zaina will know what to do with you.” Scarlett slipped through the door leading down to the basement.

It was at the bottom of the stairs that Scarlett realized she had walked into a trap.

Everything was happening faster than Scarlett had anticipated.

Balak landed a kick to Scarlett’s back. She fell with a thud but spun around in time to see Balak unsheathing a blade the length of Scarlett’s forearm. “Another assassin to grace the Darwish residence. The madam has special instructions to deal with your filth.” The cristas was in Scarlett’s hand just seconds before Balak could strike. A slice caught the madame’s bodyguard in the hamstring, but it wasn’t enough to stop his momentum. “That’s it,” Balak hissed. “Keep fighting.” He lunged, catching Scarlett in the chest.

She stumbled out of the way, Balak’s second strike had no effect; her graphite body armour was designed to stop laser rounds. Scarlett parried another strike, she landed a punch on Balak’s jaw, then followed up with a slice that caught Balak on his upper arm. He winced but attacked once more. Scarlett dodged but ended up with a cut on her face; she returned the favor by breaking Balak’s nose. “Leave, while you still breath,” she growled.

“Negative,” Balak responded. “I have much at stake here, I won’t relinquish anything to the likes of you.” He pounced with an overhand strike that Scarlett was almost not ready for. Sidestepping the fatal attack caused Balak to trip on her foot, giving Scarlett the opening she desperately needed. Her cristas found its mark: the side of Balak’s neck. He stiffened as she ripped the blade out, then plunged it deep in his ribs. He fell with a thud, looking up in absolute shock. Once Scarlett composed herself, she sheathed her cristas and left a dead Balak, taking the steps two at a time. With her Condor handgun pointed in front, she quickly scanned each room, eliminating the only guard on the property.

Her approach to the last door with was met with laser fire. Plaster and wood sprayed the hallway as Scarlett crouched her way to the nearest dresser. “You may have bested my bodyguard,” Madame Selma shouted, firing a couple of more rounds from behind an overturned table. “But I’ll personally see you transported to Trisgar.”

Scarlett popped in another clip. The table Madame Selma was hiding behind was thick Yosin wood, strong enough to stop laser rounds without cracking. She pulled out a flash grenade, priming it to detonate on impact. While Selma was waiting for her laser gun to cool, Scarlett tossed her flash grenade, closing her eyes and covering her ears. The madame took the flash grenade’s full blast, causing her to fall disoriented. Scarlett emerged from her hiding spot and stumbled over to her target; her Condor pressed against Selma’s temple. “Captain Malachai sends his regards.” Her camera sent the bloody images to Malachai.

Instincts led Scarlett to the deceased madame’s shimmering ring. The multi-coloured hues appeared as nothing at first until Scarlett took it and twisted. A hologram of what Captain Malachai was looking appeared in full view. “The captain will be pleased.”

Canthophis member Viktor Lenko, hovering in Tali's orbit, sat in silence. Ten minutes ago, his people sent word that their associate, Madame Selma Darwish had been assassinated. “Such a shame, to die at the hands of this orphan.”

“Master, should we hail Lord Inwaar?” Helmi, Viktor’s personal assistant asked.

“Not yet,” Viktor said. “The last time Lord Inwaar sent his assassins, they we’re destroyed, the direct approach won’t do, for now. This orphan will make a mistake, that is when we strike.”