Deathstalker 02 - Deathstalker Rebellion

did, Owen Deathstalker. Wherever you lead, we'll follow."
    "But now there are only two of us," said Stevie Three quietly.
    Stevie One put her arms around her and hugged her hard. After a while she let go, and the two Stevie Blues walked off a way to be by themselves for a while.
    Hazel came over to join Owen and Storm.
    "Nice flying, Deathstalker. Maybe you are the hope of humanity after all."
    "You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" said Owen.
    "Listen, aristo," said Hazel. "You need me to keep you honest. If you're the hope, we are in deep shit. Hey, Hadenmen! Any chance of showing us what's happening outside?"
    A viewscreen appeared, hovering on the air before them. The planet was falling away below them, but a dozen starcruisers were coming after them. They were
    unusually large, bulky ships of a kind Owen didn't recognize. He looked at Storm, who was biting his lower lip and frowning.
    "The Empress's new fleet," he said quietly. "E class, all with the new stardrive. Reputedly even faster than the legendary Hadenman ships. It would appear we're about to find out whether that's the case."
    The Empire ships opened fire. Disrupter cannon fired in sequence, one after the other, so that the starcruisers could maintain a constant fire. The golden ship fired back, but the Empire ships were rapidly closing the gap. Owen assumed the Hadenmen's shields were still holding—on the grounds everyone on board would have been breathing vacuum by now if they weren't. And then the ship's engines roared, and the viewscreen disappeared as the Hadenman craft dropped into hyperspace and was gone. Owen let out a long slow sigh of relief, and Hazel slapped him on the back.
    "Told you we'd make it, aristo. Personally, I was never worried. Not for a minute."
    "Then, you should have been," said Owen. "If those new ships are typical of the E class, we are all in real trouble. Think of a fleet of ships as fast as my old Sunstrider. We'd been relying on the Hadenman ships to give us an edge, but it would appear they're not number one anymore. Which means, if we're going to go head-to-head with the Empire, we've got to have ships with the new stardrive, too."
    "What the hell," said Hazel. "We can worry about that later. The mission was a success. The Tax and Tithe computers are toast, and we got most of the contacts out alive."
    "We still lost one," said Owen.

    "It wasn't your fault," said Storm. "You tried. These things happen. I'll go and have a word with Stevie One and Three. Offer them some comfort and a friendly shoulder to lean on."
    He bowed formally and moved away. Hazel watched him go. "These things happen!
    He's going to be a real comfort, he is."
    "I think we could both use a drink and some rest," said Owen. "Perhaps you'd care to join me, Hazel? Or we could have a meal together. Would you like that?"
    "Not really, no," said Hazel. "No offense, Deathstalker, but let's keep our relationship professional, okay?"
    She smiled at him briefly, then strode over to Storm and the two esper clones, gesturing for them to follow her. Owen watched them go. He was sure he must have been turned down faster than that at some time in his past, but he was damned if he could think when. Things like that weren't supposed to happen. He was a Lord, after all. And the hope of humanity.
    "Nice try, though," said the AI Ozymandius through his comm implant.
    "Shut up, Oz," said Owen. "You're dead."

Chapter 2
    Up to Gehenna and Down to Golgotha
    Captain John Silence of the Empire starcruiser Dauntless was going home to die, and was trying hard not to give a damn. After all, he'd only failed in his mission and got most of his people killed. He looked at the brimming glass in his hand and pulled a face. The trouble with sustained heavy drinking was that after a while your tongue went numb, and you couldn't tell what you were drinking. Though given exactly what he was pouring down his throat in great quantity, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. The food synthesizers could produce alcohol and flavorings, but the combinations, like the quality, were
    strictly limited. It was supposed to be red wine, but all the red part did was turn his teeth pink. Still, for a wine whose vintage was under ten minutes, it wasn't that bad. Not that it made any difference. He would have drunk it anyway.
    His head hurt, his hands were shaking, and his stomach lurched this way and that when he moved. He'd been drinking steadily for almost three days now, taking time