Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

only to exist. I had no plans, no hope, no future.
    And then word came of the outlawed Deathstalker, and I remembered the intrigues of his Family, and dared to hope again. He led me to you, and then brought me home, to lost Haden and the Tomb of my people. I have a chance to be complete again, among my own kind. I owe him everything. But once my people are awakened, I must follow the orders of my superiors once again, whatever they might be."
    Ransom frowned. "You think they might refuse to join the Deathstalker's rebellion against the Empire? Surely they'll see that it has to be in their best interests to join with us?"
    "You don't understand. You and your fellow rebels are all human, and for a long time that was just another word for enemy. It is a central creed of Hadenman
    thought that we were created to replace you. You are weak, soft, inferior. But I have lived among you, and I have seen strengths and potential that my young race as yet lacks. They would say you have infected me with your weaknesses. Perhaps they are right. I truly do not know whether I am a Hadenman, a human, or something else, less or more than both. I have waited so long to be a part of my people again, to be a fully functioning augmented man, but now… I am not sure where I truly belong. I'm not sure of anything anymore."
    "You're bound to be nervous. That's only human."
    "But I am not supposed to be human. I shouldn't even be thinking these thoughts.
    I am a Hadenman, the next evolutionary step forward in our species. That's what my people will say when they walk out from their Tomb. I have finally returned home, to lost Haden, only to find it does not feel like home at all."
    The Hadenman rose abruptly to his feet and left the room, moving silently and gracefully with his usual inhumanly perfect poise. Random didn't go after him.
    He doubted he could have kept up with Moon, and even if he had, he didn't know what he would have said. What do you say to a man mourning the loss of his own inhumanity? So Random sat back in his uncomfortable chair and studied the viewscreen, wondering if he should tell the others what he'd heard. The frozen planet stared back at him, mute and enigmatic and full of secrets. He heard footsteps approaching, and turned quickly in his chair in case it was Moon coming back. But the man in the doorway was the original Deathstalker, the man called Giles. He looked tired, and perhaps just a little lost. He gestured for Random to stay seated and sank into the chair beside him. He looked at the world on the viewscreen and sniffed once.
    "Ugly planet. Didn't look much better when it was alive, from orbit. Maybe that
    made it easier to destroy it. I never thought to see it again. When I landed the Last Standing on Shandrakor, I was expecting to die. Everyone's hand was turned against me. Some for using the Darkvoid Device, some because I was determined it would never be used again. No one was more surprised than I when the dust finally settled and I found I'd killed all the people sent to kill me. Part of me had wanted to die. So I went into stasis in the hope that things would work themselves out before I had to waken again. I should have known better. Things are more complicated now than they were before. Three different kinds of augmented men, rogue AIs, an insane Empress on the Iron Throne, and not one but two possible alien threats. And my descendant, the Deathstalker of this time, is a historian."
    "He's a good man," said Random. "He fights well, when he has to, and he has a good head on his shoulders. He cares about people, and mostly for the right reasons. You could have done a lot worse."
    "I hear much the same about you," said Giles. "They tell me you're a famous warrior and a great leader of the rebellion."
    Random sighed. "Maybe once. I'm not sure anymore. I spent most of my life fighting on one world after another, giving up all hope of love or family or a normal life, just to lead a struggle whose end was always just over the next horizon. I saw good men die, over and over again, many better men than me, and all for nothing. The Empire's as strong now as it ever was, and I'm just an old man with nowhere safe to lay his head."
    "It's not whether we win or lose," said Giles. "It's how many of the bastards we can take with us. Anyone can look away and pretend they don't see evil, as long as it doesn't affect them. But a man of honor has no choice but to stand up and do something. Whatever happens, you and I