Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

without drinking. He screwed the cap back on and put the flask back in his pocket.
    He strode on down the quiet corridor, his footsteps echoing back from the stone walls. His legs felt firmer, and he was breathing more easily. Give him some time, and a few more jolts of the right stuff, and he might be some good in a fight after all. He smiled sadly, remembering the feisty young warrior he once was. Ready to draw his blade at the drop of an insult, to avenge a lady's honor, or his own, or just because he was the best and no one could touch him. A crack shot with any kind of gun, he could pilot any damn thing that flew and plot strategy with the best generals the rebellion had to offer. He'd forged his legend day by day, world by world, and he'd made the Empire fear him as it feared no other.
    But that was a long time ago now. War takes a lot out of you, and one of the first things it takes is your youth. He'd grown old and hard on the field of battle and never missed his youth till it was gone. But he still had to be the best. People needed him, depended on him, believed in him. For a long time that was all he needed, drawing his strength from the fervor of their belief. But as the years wore on, and failure after failure wore him down, he turned first to drink and then to drugs, and finally to battle drugs. At first he had reasons, and then excuses, until finally there was only the need. On Mistworld he'd learned to live without them, as he learned to do without courage or honor. A janitor's world was simple and undemanding, and he gratefully lost himself in
    it. He just took a drop now and again to get his heart started on cold mornings.
    Or for emergencies, like now, when he really didn't feel like Jack Random at all.
    He found Tobias Moon in a side room, sitting alone, looking at the frozen planet below on a viewscreen. The Hadenman's face was as cold and emotionless as ever, and he sat stiffly in his chair as though only waiting there because he'd been told to wait, when all he wanted was to be going. Random hesitated in the doorway, uncertain whether it was wise or necessary to disturb Moon, and then the Hadenman spoke suddenly without turning around.
    "Come in, Jack Random. It's been a long time since we talked together before a battle."
    Random swore silently and did his best to seem relaxed and confident as he entered the room and pulled up a chair beside Moon. Although the Hadenman claimed to have fought at his side during the Cold Rock campaign, Random couldn't honestly say he remembered the man. Cold Rock had been a hard and bloody struggle, with a lot of good men killed, but even so he should have remembered a Hadenman. They'd been extremely scarce on the ground after their failed rebellion, mainly because most people shot them on sight, just in case.
    But Random had to admit his memory wasn't what it was, like so many other things in his life. Some things were still crystal clear, but some were lost forever, and more were confused. The Imperial mind techs had really done a job on him. He wriggled surreptitiously on the hard chair, trying to get comfortable, and wondered what the hell he was going to talk about. The Hadenman spoke first.
    "I have no memory of being here in the city or laboratories of lost Haden. I was quickened offworld, on a ship between planets, between battles. The rebellion
    was going badly, and my superiors needed all the units they could muster. I fought in many battles, on many worlds, following the orders of my superiors. I killed men and women and children. After the rebellion, most of my people were dead or fled back to Haden, to their Tomb, and I was abandoned to my own devices. I had no idea where Haden was. For a time I continued fighting. It was what I knew. I fought on many sides, on many planets, but all the causes looked the same to me, and I grew bored. I traveled for a few years, searching for new challenges, but already my energy crystals were becoming depleted, and the technology necessary to recharge or replace them could only be found in Imperial strongholds, where my kind would find no welcome. Eventually, I ended up on Mistworld, little better than any human.
    "Can you understand what that meant, to be merely human? I had been capable of so much; I was strong and fast and my senses saw so much more of the universe than your simple organics. But every day I grew weaker, and saw less, and my thoughts were no longer quicksilver fast.
    "For a long time, I existed