Deathstalker 02 - Deathstalker Rebellion

face that could use a shave topped by a distinctly receding hairline. He looked rumpled and badly used, like the unmade bed he was sitting on. His uniform was a disgrace. He'd been sick down it twice, and the left sleeve had never really recovered.
    The Investigator, on the other hand, looked utterly immaculate in a tight starched uniform with brightly polished buttons, as though she was just about to step out onto a parade ground. She was tall and lithely muscular, in her late twenties, though her eyes were much older. They were cold and blue, burning fiercely in a pale controlled face topped by auburn hair cropped close to the skull. She wore a gun on her hip, despite shipboard regulations, and a long sword hung down her back. Just standing there at her ease she looked ready and
    willing to take on a fair-sized army all by herself. And it was a brave man who would have bet on the army. She was handsome rather than pretty, and it was a brave man indeed who'd even smile at her without a direct invitation. In advance, in writing. Frost smiled only when she was killing something. She pulled up a chair, removed and discarded a dirty shirt with thumb and forefinger, and sat down facing Silence. He raised an eyebrow. Frost was usually impeccably formal, even in private.
    "What are you doing here, Investigator?" he said tiredly, pleased his voice was still steady, if a little slurred.
    Frost sniffed. "I thought we'd agreed you were going to stop drinking."
    "You agreed. I just got tired of arguing."
    "It won't help, Captain."
    "It can't hurt, either," Silence said reasonably. "Things are already as bad as they can get."
    "There's always the chance they might improve unexpectedly. We have to keep our wits about us, Captain. Be ready to take advantage of any opportunities that might arise."
    "You take advantage, Investigator. I'm too tired, and I really don't care that much anymore. No matter what happens our mission is still a mess. Civilization is doomed, and my men are still dead. They were good men. They followed me into the Madness Maze because I ordered them to. Because I told them it was safe. And not content with that, I ended up sending the survivors head-to-head with Hadenmen. It would have been kinder to shoot them all in the back. Except, that's what I did, really." He sighed, as the familiar guilt and pain washed over him again. He'd lost men before, but never like this. Failed before, but never like this. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Investigator, I have some serious
    drinking to attend to."
    He looked down at his glass, to give her a chance to leave with dignity, but when he looked up again she was still there, staring at him coldly.
    "I can feel your distress," she said evenly. "No matter where I am. Ever since our experiences on the ghostworld Unseeli, you and I have been… linked, in some strange way. Not quite telepathy, but close. I chose to disregard it, as did you. We didn't want to be taken for espers. But then we entered the Madness Maze on the Wolfling World, and the link has become stronger. Unavoidable. If I concentrate, I can feel what you're feeling, sense what you're thinking. And sometimes it comes whether I concentrate or not. It's really very annoying. For an Imperial officer, your mind is extremely disorganized. Your feelings are as undisciplined as your thoughts, and my mouth is currently full of the taste of whatever garbage that is you're drinking. It has to stop."
    "I can't feel you," said Silence. "But then I wouldn't, would I? You're an Investigator. You don't have any feelings."
    "My mind is disciplined," Frost said calmly. "Unlike yours. Is that why you're trying so hard to climb into a bottle and drown?"
    Silence glared at her. "In case it has escaped your attention, Investigator, the Dauntless is carrying us back to inform the Empress that not only was our mission shot to hell, not only is her lover and Warrior Prime dead and cold, but also a major rebellion complete with an army of reawakened augmented men is in the offing. She is not going to be pleased with us. Not at all. If we're lucky, she'll just kill us both on the spot. But we haven't been particularly lucky so far, have we, Investigator?"
    "So why are we going back?" said Frost.

    The words hung in the air between them, refusing to let Silence ignore them. He looked into his glass, but it had no answer for him. He sighed heavily, and made himself meet the Investigator's cold blue eyes.
    "Because it's my duty. I may have