The sun was setting over the desert and the assassins stopped to build a camp fire and set up for the night. The eldest dropped from his mounted reptile and reached for his laser. He rolled out some fire wood from his pack and ignited it with the laser. The others dismounted as well, following every move of the elder. The group of ten have been riding for three days through the desert. Their destination is the floating city to the North. The target is the elderly king’s heir, the young Titus, the king’s adopted son. Upon his assassination the next in line to the throne will be the king’s brother, the diabolical earl Krass. Krass traded the assassins one million gold for the hit.
The elder fell asleep in his tent with the laser and a dagger under his pillow. Every gust of wind blowing over the tent caused him to reach, subconsciously, for the weapons. He arouse in the middle of the night and opened the tent door. It was eerily quiet. He tried to rationalize his fear. We’re in the desert, far away from civilization. Nobody should be near, except, by chance, a group of nomads but they tend to travel during the day, like most people.
The elder climbed back into the tent and fell asleep.
The ships silently descended on the desert camp site. The hatches opened and from each ship one robot hit man walked out. The three droids lifted their rail guns and opened fire on the tents. The inhabitants of each tent died in their sleep. All except for the elder, who heard the shots and laid flat with his bullet proof sleeping bag over him. The shooting subsided; the droids inspected each tent to confirm the kills. The assassins were nearly exterminated.
A droid cut his way into the elder’s tent by use of a saber arm extension. The blade retracted when he entered. He looked around and saw a lump on the floor with a sleeping bag over the body. Bullet holes perforated the tent. The robot lifted the sleeping bag and the elder lunged with dagger and laser in hand. He stabbed, metal came in contact with metal, scratching the robot. The laser shot a ray of light, barely missing the robot assassin. The robot spoke:
“You came this far in search of the king’s heir, but you will not reach any further. Your death will seal the fate of the kingdom. Titus will be king.”
“How did you find us, we covered our tracks so well?” Asked the elder.
“Humans are easy to track down, you’re so very inferior.” Said the robot.
The other two robots entered the elder’s tent. The elder’s eyes darted, he maneuvered the laser beam artfully and sliced off each of their heads. Tangled metal spewed forth from their necks, electricity shot out, casting light on the dark desert sand.
“You must be the leader.” Said the elder.
“I am, and now you must die.” With those last words the robot silenced the elder with a crushing blow. The fate of the nations was sealed that night. The horrible Krass will never be king. Titus will soon become the leader of the nations. His good nature will prevail, the nations will soon enter the eighty years of peace.