A/N: Another dark chapter. I tend to believe that Mara was used as an assassin at a very young age, since waiting until she was older could have presented some problems, psychologically speaking. She needed to be immersed in the violence from early on (and she was, logging her first unofficial kill at around ten years old), so that later, when she's developing into a more independent-minded adult, this behavior and moral outlook is so engrained that the greater level of understanding one attains with age won't erode her training.
That being said, can you guess what this chapter is about?
Thanks for reading, and please leave me a review to let me know what you think.
She hadn't expected to be nervous, and she wasn't. Her first assignment was nothing complicated – a senator was getting greedy, and needed to be removed.
It was technically illegal to mess with someone under fifteen standard years old, but a lot of illegal things happened in the Imperial Palace, and Mara didn't blink twice when she was told that the senator would be waiting for her in his apartments for a 'private talk.' She didn't ask questions. It was an easy way in, and that was enough.
The senator was indeed waiting for her, and wasted no time in grabbing her hand and pulling her to a seat beside him. He touched her lips, smiled. "You are beautiful," he said.
She felt her teeth grinding – she didn't like to be touched by anyone, let alone someone as repulsive as this man – but managed to hold her temper. She had specific instructions as to how he was to be dispatched. It wouldn't do to go overboard on her first assignment.
"Turn around," she said.
His smile faded a little. "I'm sorry?"
She attempted a coy shrug. "I want to try something. You'll like it."
He raised an eyebrow, but obeyed, twisting slowly to expose his back to her. Mara reached into her hair – expertly coiffed, in a style like the real courtesans wear – and slid out a jeweled pin. "Close your eyes," she said.
It took less than a second to locate the precise spot where her weapon would do the most effective damage. She flipped the pin in her hand so that the sharp end pointed up, and in one swift motion, plunged it into the base of his skull, where it split his spinal cord and eventually lodged in his brain. There was very little bleeding. The senator slumped over without a sound.
She stood up, eager to put some distance between herself and the carcass – not because she was afraid of death, but because she knew he was going to start to smell pretty soon – and waited a minute to be sure he was dead. The low lights in the apartment struck the twin jewels of her hairpin. They glittered where they lay, still wedged against the flesh of his neck.
Mara left the way she came in. The secretary was gone, as Intel said he always was when the senator's toys came to be played with. She didn't see anyone until she reached the lift in the main hall. A middle-aged woman was inside, and held the door for Mara.
The number for the first floor was already lit up, so she stood with her hands loose at her sides, and in the quiet she realized that her fingers were tingling. Adrenaline. It was the first rush of nerves she'd felt in a long time.
"Isn't it a bit late for you to be out by yourself?" the woman asked. She sounded kind.
Mara didn't answer. She stared straight ahead, counting the floors as they passed.