Chapter 2: The Queen is Dead.
Sunset in the palace of Hapes was always a spectacular affair. The last streaks of daylight reflected off of the many fountains in the palace gardens, and the colored clouds lent an almost ethereal quality to the lavish and luxurious edifices. Servants, courtiers, and even members of the royal family often gathered in the gardens to watch the sunset. They used the time as a small breather, a break from their daily schedules, when they could simply stand amid the luscious greenery with no thought on their minds other then the beauty of the clouds and sea.
Jamar Amdal stood among the groups of people, his eyes downcast and his hands clasped behind his back. No one paid any attention to him; they were all far too busy enjoying the sunset to notice one simple male servant, which was precisely the reason Amdal had chosen this particular time to infiltrate the palace. Quietly, he moved between the onlookers until he reached the palace door, and slipped silently inside. No one took any more interest in his departure then they had in his entry. And the sun slowly sank beneath the horizon.
Once inside, he continued to move unnoticed though the halls and corridors of the palace. As an infiltration unit he couldn't have been more perfect: he was handsome as all people on Hapes were handsome, but not in a way that drew attention to himself. He was of medium height, medium build, had brown hair and eyes and no physical attribute that in any way adhered him to memory. His face, while pleasant, was one that was easily and quickly forgotten wherever he went. No one looking at him would guess he was an assassin, and one of the best at that. Which was, of course, precisely what made him such a good assassin in the first place.
Walking quickly, navigating the halls with a practiced ease that to all appearances spoke of long years as a palace servant but in reality was as a result of careful study of the palace blueprints, he soon reached the wing reserved for the royal family. It was not the largest in the palace, but is was the most elaborately decorated and ornately furnished. Silent as a mouse, he ducked behind a corner and removed from his pocket a small mechanical device, which he cupped in the palm of his hand. Stepping out from the discreet alcove, he once again moved along the corridors until he reached the entrance to the Queen's quarters.
The rooms of the queen were heavily guarded at all times, but at present there were only two guards standing outside of the door. Usually there were four, but the other two had become mysteriously ill only a few minutes before, and had been rushed to the small medical center on the other side of the palace. There had not yet been time to replace them, but the guards were not nervous. After all, the Queen was well known for her skills as a warrior, and as a force user as well. What assassin would be foolish enough to challenge her?
As he approached the doorway and the guards, Amdal swiftly thumbed the device hidden in his hand, and the security cameras outside the Queen's quarters went dead. But before the guards had time to notice, Amdal had come before them.
"The Queen has sent for me." He said calmly to them. The guards looked at each other.
"Her majesty desires refreshment of some kind?" One of them asked, looking dubiously at Amdal's seemingly empty hands.
"Of some kind." Amdal replied, the corner of his mouth turning up in a lascivious smile. The guards frowned. Unlike many of the courtiers in the palace, the queen was not known for seeking pleasure outside of the marriage bed. Prince Isolder was, after all, an extremely handsome man. Much handsomer then this young man, although he was not bad looking. However, they knew better then to contradict the Queen, who was known for her temper. Still looking dubious, the guards stepped aside and allowed Amdal access to the room. From a corner of the mechanical device in his palm, Amdal dislodged a small spherical ball and allowed it to drop silently onto the floor between the two guards. Then he opened the door, and stepped into the room.
The door closed behind him. Inside, he found the room to be much more sparse and severe then he had expected. He had been inside the private chambers of many female courtiers and had found them all to be ornate and cluttered, but this looked more like the room of a warrior. He smiled slightly, his respect for the Queen growing just a bit.
He walked through the anti-chamber and the various side rooms, his soft shoes making no noise on the floor. He dropped his right hand, the hand not carrying the mechanical device, and allowed the smooth blade nestled in the folds of his inner sleeve to fall into his hand. Finally, he reached the last room in the Queen's quarters: the bedroom. The door was ajar, and he could see her, sitting at her desk writing. Quietly he crept through the door and up behind her, careful not to make a sound. But when he was less then two feet away the floorboard under him gave a small creak, and she turned around. Before she could do anything other then gape at him, he backhanded her across the face, sending her crashing to the floor.
In less then a second she was up again, grasping around her for some weapon to use against him. He grinned and came towards her with his thin bladed knife held before him.
"How" she gasped, staring wide-eyed at him, "how… I can't…"
"Your force skills can't help you, your majesty." He spat at her, still grinning. With his other hand, he pulled back his right sleeve to reveal a thin armband composed of some scaly material she could not recognize. It looked a little like the scaly armor worn by the warriors of Dathomir…
"Ysalamiri." He said, cruelly. It took her a moment to realize the implications of this, but then her eyes grew cold and she swallowed dryly. While still a great warrior, she was no longer young, and her opponent was a man in his prime. But if she was to die, she would do so fighting, as befitted a warrior of Dathomir. She flew at him, her fingers spread like claws and her eyes spitting fire. But he was ready for her, and swung the blade to cut a thin gash across her shoulders, and then grasped her neck with his free hand. She began to choke, clawing at his hand with her nails but to no avail. He simply stared down at her for over a minute as her eyes began to glaze and a trickle of blood dripped down from her nose. Then he released her, and she fell across the bed, gasping for air.
"Oh no, your majesty." He said, breathing hard, his brown eyes as cold as ice. "It will not be so easy for you. You will not die so quickly. First you will suffer, as we men have suffered under the Queen Mothers ever since the lorall raiders left centuries ago. First you will feel what it means to be oppressed." With that, he stepped toward her and leaning down, pressed the tip of the knife between her breasts. Feebly she tried to role away, and then screamed as the knife ripped from her chest to her navel, cutting through skin and cloth.
Some time later, his mission completely, Jamar Amdal stepped through the doorway to the Queen's quarters, taking a minute to look down contemptuously at the fallen guards, dead from the poisonous gas released by the small ball he had dropped. In his hand he held the mechanical device, recovered from where he had dropped it in his fight with the Queen. He looked up at the dead security cameras, laughed slightly, and proceeded down the corridor to the exit. No one noticed the sweat on his brow, or the tears in his shirt where the Queen had tried to fight him off. He reached the exit with as little difficulty as he had entered it, and walked out into the cool evening air. Over in the garden, the last rays of sunlight could be seen shimmering beneath the sea.