Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

moaning," said Hazel. "Since when have you ever run away from a good fight?"
    "It's the principle of the thing," said Ruby. "I like to have the choice."
    "You were never that hot on principles, either. The Madness Maze must have changed you more than we thought."
    Owen grinned, listening to the two friends squabble amicably. It was a moment of warmth and sanity in an increasingly insane situation. He'd come a long way from the young historian who'd just wanted to be left alone, happy in his obscurity on a backwater planet. Now here he was, allied with Wolflings and Hadenmen and living legends, planning to lead a rebellion against the greatest and most powerful Empire that Humanity had ever known. Talk about delusions of grandeur.
    But looking back at the twists and turns his life had taken recently, there wasn't much he would have done differently. Except for the young girl he'd
    crippled on Mistworld. He'd see her face till the day he died.
    But he was where he was, with an enemy before him and an unknown factor behind him, and if he was going to die, he could at least die well, like a Deathstalker should. For all his faults, he'd always liked to think of himself as an honorable man. He smiled suddenly, as a thought struck him.
    "Giles, assuming by some miracle we get out of this alive and more or less intact, how about we change our Family name to something a little more positive and upbeat? I mean, Deathstalker really is a bloody gloomy name when you think about it."
    Then don't think about it," Giles said calmly. "Deathstalker's a good name. I chose it myself. It's got style."
    They'll never get it on your headstone," said Hazel. "Too many letters."
    "Heads up," said Random. "They're in range now. Won't he long before their sensors detect us."
    "Right," said Ruby. "I think the dance is about to begin. Choose your partners carefully and don't do anything your mother would approve of."
    "All this time without a single smile, and now she develops a sense of humor,"
    said Random. "And a twisted one at that."
    "Shut up and pick your targets," said Owen. "Let's see if we can get some of them before they can get us."
    "Damn right," said Hazel. She stood up suddenly, gripped her biggest projectile weapon firmly and set it against her shoulder, and opened fire. The recoil sent her staggering backward, but the spray of bullets swept across the massed Wampyr and knocked several of them off their feet. The rest of the Imperial party quickly raised their force shields and returned fire with their energy weapons.
    Hazel dived for cover, and Owen kept his head well down till the barrage was
    over. He counted to five, just in case, and then raised his head and snapped off a shot with his disrupter. It ricocheted from a force shield and disappeared off into the darkness. More energy bolts stabbed out from the rebel positions to equal lack of effect. A force shield would go down if you hit it often enough with an energy bolt, but the rebels didn't have that much firepower, and the Empire forces knew it. They waited for the rebel's disrupters to fall silent, and then charged the rebel positions for some sword to sword contact before the energy crystals could recharge. And the rebels stood up and let fly with their projectile weapons.
    The roar of the bullets caught the marines and the Wampyr by surprise. Some had even lowered their force shields to save energy, and the bullets tore them apart with bloody thoroughness. The rest kept coming, sheltering behind their shields, desperate to get to close quarters and fighting they understood. The Security Officer spoke to his massive alien companion, and it sprinted forward ahead of the rest, bullets ricocheting harmlessly from its silicon armor. Owen jumped out of his doorway to meet it, sword in hand, and the alien sent him sprawling with a casual backhand slap before running past the rebels and on into the city.
    "It's gone after Moon!" said Hazel.
    "Let it," said Owen, sitting up and spitting blood from a split lip. "Moon's probably the only one of us who could take it, anyway."
    And then the Empire forces were upon them, almost halved by the unexpected projectile weapons, but just that much more furious and determined. The rebels rose from their hiding places, discarded the guns as too dangerous to use against force shields in close quarters, and went to meet the enemy sword in hand. At the end, it was what they knew and trusted. Steel rang on steel, and
    the air was full of the