Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

across the floor and bumped up against the control panels. And with the last few moments of his sight, Moon watched with a cold, despairing hate as the alien began to devour his body. And then there was only the darkness and his thoughts fading away as the last of his energy ran out.
    Giles Deathstalker and the man now known as Dram came together in the middle of the battle, and on Dram's signal the Wampyr drew back to give them room. Blood dripped thickly from Giles' blade, but Dram's was spotless. He had held back till then, waiting for the best moment to commit himself. Giles stood surrounded by dead bodies, marine technicians and Wampyr, bleeding from many superficial wounds but still defiant. He grinned suddenly, flicking drops of blood from his sword.
    "I should have known you'd be here. You always had to be in at the kill, didn't you? You learned that much from me, at least. You're looking good, son."
    "I look after myself," said Dram. "I had a lot of practice at that while you were off running around the Empire, playing Warrior Prime. And since you weren't there to be a father to me, I occupied myself by studying the great game of politics and intrigue at the Imperial Court. All the plots and plans and maneuverings you could never be bothered with. Just like you could never be bothered with me. I've become everything you ever hated, Father, and you don't know how warm that makes me feel inside."
    "You were an unnatural child," said Giles. "You broke your mother's heart, and you would have broken mine, if I'd let you. For a long time I thought you were dead. I paid the assassin enough. But I never did see the body. I assume you
    slept the years away in stasis, like me?"
    "Oh, yes, Father. I wanted to be here waiting for you when you finally reappeared. The Empress Lionstone found and awakened me, and I've spent the last few years amusing myself by acquiring every honor you ever had, and more. I'm Warrior Prime now, and official Consort, and one day not too far off, I'll be Emperor. And the Empire you helped make, and believed in so fiercely, will kneel down and fear me. But don't worry, Father. I won't forget you. I'll keep your head in a glass case by my throne, so I can look at it every day and laugh."
    "You always did talk too much," said Giles. "Are you going to talk me to death, or shall we fight?"
    "Oh, we're going to fight, Father. I've been looking forward to this for a long time. And don't worry; if I look like losing, my people will kill you anyway."
    "You never did have any honor."
    "And you always had too much. Time to die, old man. I'm going to put you out of my misery."
    As suddenly as that they slammed together, blades flashing, attacking and parrying and leaping apart, all in a moment. Sparks flew where their swords met, and the air was full of the ring of steel on steel. They stamped back and forth, grunting with the effort of their blows, and slowly, foot by foot, Giles was driven back. He'd already taken enough wounds to kill a lesser man, and Dram was fresh and unhurt and a great deal younger. They fought on, oblivious to what was happening in the fighting around them, two sides of a blood feud begun nine hundred years before.
    Dram fought with a cold, grinning fury that poured strength into his blows, and Giles' arm was already tired from fighting the unnatural strength of the Wampyr, but in the end he was the Deathstalker, and Dram was not. Giles deliberately
    left an opening, and Dram lunged forward, his sword punching into Giles' left side, just below the ribs. Giles' left hand shot out and grabbed Dram's wrist, holding the blade in place. Dram tried to jerk his blade free, and couldn't.
    Giles allowed him just enough time to realize that, and for the fear to grow in Dram's eyes, then he thrust his own sword into his son's heart. Giles smiled into the dying eyes as the light went out of them, and then pulled back his sword and let Dram's body fall unmoving to the ground. Giles carefully eased Dram's sword out of his side, let it drop, and looked challengingly around him.
    Most of the Imperial forces were dead or dying, but a handful of Wampyr stood watching him thoughtfully. Beyond them, Owen and Hazel were still dueling with Captain Silence and the Investigator. Giles drew his disrupter and shot one of the Wampyr. The energy beam tore right through its chest, and the force of the blow threw it off its feet. It lay still among the other bodies, and the other Wampyr studied it for a