Smoke: A Dark Masters Story

Dark Masters

The Dark Masters looked on the stars, and saw that they were good. They gave each of their faithful servants a planet of their very own to live on and enjoy. And then the Dark Masters moved on…

Prologue

“Damn!” Smoke muttered into his beer as the most interesting man in the tavern stood up and pulled on an ankle length leather coat, before striding out into the dark. Smoke pouted into his glass for a moment. He had been making plans that included that tall, slender body; and now his prey had left before Smoke could put any of his plans into effect. One cool glance from an emerald eye was hardly an agreement to a night of fun, but it had been a step in the right direction. Finding out if there was another matching eye hidden under the shock of shiny brown hair that had concealed half of the handsome face had been one of the plans.

Smoke glanced casually around the busy tavern, and confirmed his earlier assessment. There was nobody else here who looked interesting enough to be bothered with. He drained his glass, and dropped a few coins on the table. There was only one thing to do: follow his prey and try and get the evening back on track!

Smoke stepped out of the tavern and strolled across the road, drawing in lungfuls of the cool night air. His nose automatically filtered out the myriad scents of the portside city, searching for leather and Emerald-eye’s unique aroma. He sauntered in the direction he was sure the man had taken, hands tucked loosely into his wide belt. His eyes scanned the street and he caught a glimpse of his prey in the distance. He smiled to himself and followed. A chase would add to the pleasure.

***

Tyrak was glad to leave the noisy tavern and get on with his mission. He hated spaceport cities. They were too crowded and loud; and they stank. He had been here for two days already and was impatient to get this over and done with. With any luck he should be off this dirt ball before sun-up, and back among the peaceful stars with plenty of elbow room. He let the idle, irritated thoughts flit across his mind as he moved through the evening crowds, and headed toward the residential sector in the hills above the port. He moved with a measured, silent stride as he mentally ran through his timetable. Two days of intense observation had verified the information he had been given for the mission. He had refined his plan and could see no reason to wait any longer.

He walked past the gates of the Imparian Ambassador’s residence just as the first member of the new shift of guards pulled up to the gates. Tyrak allowed himself the faintest hint of a smile at the man’s predictability as he continued to follow the high wall around the property. Not a lot of thought had been put into the security of the impressive building. A single entrance and a high wall weren’t enough to keep out a determined intruder, not even with the addition of electronic surveillance. Tyrak was very determined. He had toured the building as part of a commercial sight-seeing trip, and confirmed that the floor plans he had been provided with were accurate for the public areas.

He had also learned more than he really wanted to know about Imparian architecture. He thought the elaborate patterns built into the brick and stonework were much too fussy, and detracted from the building’s overall beauty, although he could appreciate their practical uses.

He paused under the large tree that overhung the wall, more sloppy security, and dropped to one knee to fiddle with his boot. He scanned the wide, empty street in both directions from his crouched position. There was nobody around to appreciate his subterfuge, which was as it should be.

He stood up, pulled on his gloves and drew the folded grapple hook with its thin cord from an inner pocket of his coat. He continued to scan the street for movement as his fingers deftly snapped the hook together and locked it in place. One easy throw, and the double hook was caught on the overhanging tree branch with the end of the cord brushing against his chest. He tugged the cord and, satisfied that it was securely anchored, swiftly climbed up onto the wide tree limb. He drew the cord up after him and coiled it next to the embedded hook, before walking along the branch to the trunk of the tree, completely bypassing the electronic beam guarding the top of the wall.

He slid his night goggles out of his pocket and slipped them on to study the formal garden between him and the mansion. Random beams crossed the lawns, fewer than he had anticipated, all appeared to be about waist high he noted as he climbed silently down to ground level. That might mean there were some form of guard-dogs, but, as the Ambassador was entertaining tonight, it was unlikely that any were loose at the moment.

Tyrak edged carefully around the open lawns, ducking under the beams as he needed to, until he could study the house from the shelter of a shrubby area. The party seemed to be on the first floor of the mansion. Several guests were outside on the softly lit veranda, and light spilled from the windows all around it. Tyrak avoided one couple who had taken advantage of the wide marble steps to descend into the garden, and make use of one of the dark niches that would give a pleasant view of the gardens during daylight.

He slipped around to the back of the house, which was quieter and darker. Most light and activity was from the kitchens at the far end. The decorative brickwork of the walls provided all the hand and footholds that he needed to climb to the top storey windows, and let himself in. The alarm wasn’t set so he didn't need to use the jammer to reroute it.

Continued in First Section