Imperial Spy: Prologue

Prologue

"Sieze that man! He is to be held on charges of treason!"

For the slightest instant, Shadrar was off balance. He was expecting to meet the Emperor. Instead, General Sudanam was standing in the Emperor's study, pointing at him with an accusing finger. The two guards who had entered the room with Shadrar were slow to react to the order. Survival instinct and a wealth of experience gave him the edge he needed. In the blink of an eye, Shadrar spun, hands flashing blows that felled both guards before they had a chance to move. Without pause, he drew a small vibrodagger and hurled it at the General.

Time seemed to slow as he released the blade. As it left his hand, he saw the spy girl, Vernassa, draw a vibrodagger from her boot. Her face held a strange combination of pain and determination and her blue eyes chilled him with their intensity. General Sudanam swayed aside, avoiding the thrown blade in an astonishing display of agility for one so old. Almost simultaneously, Vernassa threw her knife as Shadrar launched into a dive out through the open door. The knife sliced past him so close that he felt it go by. It rammed home into the metal frame of the door with a juddering thud, leaving the assassin in no doubt that it had been thrown with deadly force. Nobody had come that close to killing him for years. Worse, the blade had been thrown by a girl who was barely entering adulthood.

Assassins were normally the unseen killers. Unkown and unexpected. Hits were planned meticulously to avoid any chance of the assassin being caught. There were always random factors thatdefied the best planning, but Shadrar had a flair for improvisation. He was the best in the businesse and only the richest could afford his services. No hit was planned today, but somehow, Vernassa had turned the tables on him. The young woman had set him up, for which he would exact a terrible retribution in due course. For now, however, his focus was on a clean escpae from the Palace.

Like a shadow fleeing from light, Shadrar raced down the corridor. His footfalls made no sound and he ran so smoothly that he appeared to flow along the passage-ways. After a few turns the assassin paused to glance behind him and listen. There was no sign of a pursuit, but he refused to take unnecessary chances.

Shadrar was known around the Palace, though few knew his profession. Most thought him a bodyguard or an advisor to the Emperor. The secrecy was essential, for if the truth of his role in the Palace became known, he would become useless as a weapon.

Thoughts falshed through Shadrar's mind as he reviewed his situation. The complexities of his web of deceit and his history of meddling in Imperial affairs were now in tatters. It was infuriating. Anger burned in his guts, but he clamped down on the emotion and concentrated.

It appeared that General Sudanam was assuming power in the Galactic Empire, which was extremely bad news for all assassins. The General was well-known for his dislike of hired killers. He belived that killing was something soldiers did out of necessity in battle, not a trade for those who looked to gain wealth at the expense of lives of others. It made sense for Shadrar to get off Coruscant as soon as possible. Maybe he should even consider leaving the Empire altogether.

Shadrar had always had an aloof disdain for what he saw as the oafish and obvious ways of the military, but he did respect Sudanam's reputation for efficiency and thoroughness. With the huge numbers of troops on the planet maintaing public order in the wake of the recent unrest, General Sudanam had the power to make life very difficult for Shadrar.

"Time to move on," he whispered, unconsciously twisting a silver wristlet part hidden by his sleeve. "But first, one loose end to tie up."

Proceeding at a brisk walk, Shadrar slipped along the corridors towards the nearest exit. Within minutes he was outside the Palace building and heading for the nearest spaceport. The red-clad guards in the grounds barely glanced in Shadrar's direction as the killer left the Palace grounds. The guard's job was to keep undesirbales away from the Palace, not to keep them in it.

Once out into the streets, Shadrar slowed his pace to a stroll, blending his passage into the normal bustle of the city. Lots of soldiers clad in shining silverarmour were abroad, mainly in small groups of six to ten, patrolling for signs of trouble. Shadrar chose his route to avoid areas of the city where disturbances were likely. None of the soldiers gave him a second glance as he ambled past their patrols. Street by street, he moved