Deathstalker 02 - Deathstalker Rebellion

patients needed to believe that. The poor bloody bastards.
    She moved on, her shoes squelching in pools of blood and other fluids. The stench from open gut wounds and those who'd fouled themselves in dying was almost overpowering. And then she stopped, as it seemed to her she recognized a face. She knelt down beside the twitching, delirious man and frowned thoughtfully. Half of his left arm was missing, severed above the elbow. He'd taken other sword hits, too. Beatrice bit her lip. Of course she knew the face.
    She'd seen it often enough in the factory complex. This wasn't a Church soldier or a mercenary. This was a clone. And since the Empire didn't allow clones to use weapons, this had to be an escaped clone. Presumably, a rebel from the recent assault. She shrugged and got to her feet. She was a Sister of Mercy, and all were welcome here. And to hell with what the Wolfes said. She beckoned to the nearest nurse.
    "This one's a rebel," she said quietly. "Do we have any more?"
    "Thirty-two so far. You did say…"
    "Yes, I did. Keep their faces covered. With bandages if you have to. What the Wolfes don't know won't hurt them, and we don't need the complications. Any news
    on more supplies?"
    "Most of it's still held up in orbit. Since the attack, the Wolfes are only allowing essential craft-landing permission. Security, they say."
    "Bastards. I'll contact the Sisterhood again when I get a chance. See if they can put some pressure on."
    "What do we do with the rebels once they're well enough to be moved? Can't just leave them here; we need the space. But what's the point in healing them if we just have to hand them over to Wolfe security afterward?"
    "Don't worry about it. The rebels will spirit them away as soon as they can safely be moved. They always do." Beatrice looked back over her shoulder as raised voices came from the entrance to the tent. She saw who it was and scowled. "Here comes trouble. Get those faces covered. Now."
    The nurse nodded quickly and turned away. Beatrice made her way back to the entrance as quickly as she could and blocked it with her body. She nodded for the flustered nurse to leave it to her, and the nurse nodded gratefully and left her to it. Beatrice smiled icily at the newcomer.
    "Cardinal Kassar, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company at this extremely busy time?"
    "You've got rebel wounded in here," said Kassar flatly. "I've had reports. I want them handed over to my people for questioning. Now. They shouldn't be here anyway. I've got more hurt men coming in."
    "Something else gone wrong?"
    "None of your business."
    "You're the one filling my tent with wounded. That makes it my business. And as a Sister of Mercy, I'll treat anyone who needs my help. That's my job."

    Kassar smiled coldly. "Screw your job. Either you turn those rebel scum over to me now, or I'll have my men come in and drag them out."
    Beatrice nodded calmly. "Always knew you were a bit of a bastard, James. But don't let your anger over losing a battle push you into doing something you'll regret. The Sisterhood still has a lot of pull with the Church back on Golgotha.
    And right now I'm the Sisterhood's favorite daughter. I'm doing great things for their image. You mess with me, and my superiors will have your superiors come down on you like a ton of bricks in a wind shaft."
    "We're a long way from Golgotha, Beatrice. By the time you can get word out, it'll all be over. Your precious rebels have information I need, and I'm going to squeeze it out of them, drop by drop. They'll suffer as my men have suffered.
    And there's not a damned thing you can do to stop me."
    "Wrong," said Beatrice. "Look down, Cardinal."
    They both looked down, and there was Beatrice's hand, holding a scalpel pressed lightly against Kassar's groin. They both stood very still.
    "You wouldn't dare," said Kassar.
    "Try me," said Beatrice. "Like you said, we're a long way from Golgotha.
    Accidents happen. You don't give a damn about your men being hurt. You're just desperate to salvage some small success from this unholy mess, so your precious career doesn't go down the toilet. Well, this is my territory, James, and we do things my way here. You try and walk over me, and I swear I'll geld you, right here and now."
    Kassar looked into her steady eyes and believed her.
    "I'll be back. With armed men."
    "No you won't. I've got a hidden camera recording this. You really want your men to see you backed down by a mere Sister of Mercy? That would