Deathstalker 02 - Deathstalker Rebellion

there were bound to be other more subtle dangers concealed at random throughout the Court. The Empress never found a joke really funny unless someone could get hurt. The falling snow was especially real. It collected wetly on heads and clothes and seemed to be getting heavier. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to re-create this environment, which suggested the appropriate life-forms were out there somewhere, too. Especially, the predators. Lionstone had a special fondness for the practical joke.
    The gathered courtiers murmured among themselves for a while, and then some brave soul stepped forward, and everyone else trudged through the snow after him. Few had come prepared for arctic conditions, and the bright flashing silks of current fashion did little to protect their wearers. A few grumbled and blasphemed under their breath, but most just toughed it out. You never knew who might be listening. Silence stepped out along with the crowd, still somewhat surprised that he wasn't weighed down with chains like his last visit to Court.
    After screwing up so completely on the Wolfling World, he'd fully expected to find himself facing an execution warrant the moment he stepped off his ship, but apparently his victory over the attacking alien ship had bought him some extra time, if nothing else.

    Frost strode along at his side as though the snow wasn't there, seemingly unconcerned by anything. There wasn't much that bothered Investigators, if only because they tended to kill things that did. V. Stelmach trudged along in her shadow, using her tall form as a windbreak. His arms were wrapped tightly across his chest, and he was pouting sulkily. Stelmach was not happy. But, then, he rarely was.
    Being a Security Officer did that to you. Especially, if your name was Valiant.
    The crowd labored on through the packed snow, slipping and lurching and fighting for balance. The mists were growing thicker, obscuring the distance. Silence watched his breath steam on the air before him and wondered what lay ahead. If he had any sense he'd be running for his life rather than presenting his head to the Empress so she could cut it off personally, but he knew his duty. The Service was his life, and if it had been a hard life for the most part, he still wouldn't have chosen any other. As a Captain in the Imperial Navy he was part of something greater, in the service of humanity, and he would give his life for it, should that prove necessary. Lionstone might be a vindictive psychotic with a particularly unfortunate sense of humor, but she was his Empress, and he had sworn upon his life and his honor to serve her all his days. He looked about him at the subzero world and smiled slightly. Typical of Lionstone. Here he was, walking to his execution like a good soldier, and she even had to make that difficult.
    He looked around sharply as he sensed as much as heard something large moving up ahead, hidden in the mists. Murmurs moved through the crowd as others heard or saw it. Silence's eyes narrowed, and his hand fell to his hip, where his gun should have been. Glimpses of something large moved through the mist, seen and
    gone in a moment. It moved ponderously, crunching loudly through the snow, and then suddenly raised a shaggy head and roared defiantly. The harsh sound echoed eerily on the quiet, and then the mists came down again, and the creature was lost to sight. The courtiers huddled together for comfort but kept moving. The Empress was waiting.
    Silence's hands itched for a weapon, but gun and sword were both denied him. No subject, no matter how trusted or exalted, was allowed to bear weapons before his Empress, without a special dispensation. Which meant everyone around Silence was unarmed, too. Easy pickings if the creature decided it was hungry. The Empress would have to be crazy to risk endangering the Families with a real threat, but no one would have bet against it. Silence scowled, his hands curling into fists. A dim shape roared again, but the sound was farther off. It was moving away. The crowd breathed a general sigh of relief, and the pace picked up again. There was always the chance the shape was just another hologram, but no one was willing to bet on that, either. Silence decided he was going to stick really close to the Investigator. Even unarmed, Frost was death on two legs, and he'd back her against anything Lionstone might have imported. Not that he'd ever tell Frost that. She was bigheaded enough as it was.
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