Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

tavern. The ground shuddered under the impact, throwing the four observers off their feet. David got to his feet first, unlocked the main door, and hurried outside. He had some confused thought about hauling any injured out of the crashed ship, but the moment he got outside the door the heat from the blazing craft stopped him dead. He threw an arm to protect his face, feeling sweat pop out all over him. He tried to force himself forward, but his body wouldn't obey him, flinching away from the awful heat. A hand grabbed him from behind and pulled him back into the tavern. Someone else slammed the door shut, cutting off the heat.

    "Forget it," said Kit, letting go of his arm. "No one's getting out of that alive."
    "The hell they aren't," said Jenny from the window. "You've got to see this."
    The others hurried over to join her at the window. Outside in the courtyard, flames from the ship were rising higher than the tavern. But someone inside the craft had opened the emergency escape hatch, and two figures were emerging. As David and the others watched, the flames seemed to draw back from the hatch. Two women with the same face dropped down onto the blackened stones of the courtyard and headed for the tavern, apparently entirely unaffected by the blazing inferno around them.
    "I know that face," said Kit. "It's the Stevie Blues."
    "How the hell are they doing that?" said Jenny.
    "They're clones, aren't they?" said Alice excitedly. "I've never seen clones before!"
    "If they've come looking for us, we could be in trouble," David said quietly to Kit. "We owe the underground a lot of reports. It's entirely possible the rebel council might have decided we need persuading to follow the party line."
    "Or, given that we know a lot about rebel plans, the Blues could have been sent to silence us," said Kit. "Good thinking, David. I'll make a paranoid out of you yet."
    "Okay," said David. "This place has a back door. I suggest we use it. Now."
    "What is it?" said Jenny. "Do you know these people?"
    "I don't run from anyone," said Kit to David, ignoring her. "Besides, there are only two of them."
    "Two battle esper firestarters are more than enough to reduce this place to ashes, along with anyone stupid enough to be inside it when they get here. Those
    are elves, Kit. Esper Liberation Front. The radical fringe of the radical fringe. The only time they take hostages is when they're feeling hungry."
    "We can take them," said Kit.
    "Fine. You take the one on the left, and I'll take to my heels. We can't fight, Kit; we have the girls to think of. All right, plan B. We'll talk them to death.
    No one ever accused the Stevie Blues of being particularly bright. Impulsive, psychotic, and more deadly than a Hadenman in a really bad mood, but not bright.
    If we keep our wits about us, I may be able to talk our way out of this."
    Kit sniffed. "I'd much rather kill them."
    "I know you would," said David. "That's your answer to everything. But your normal tactics aren't going to be much use against someone who can melt your sword just by looking at it."
    "Good point," said Kit. "All right, you talk to them. I'll see if I can sneak round behind them, just in case."
    "Sounds like a plan to me," said David.
    "Hold everything," said Alice. "Do you know these people? I heard the word underground. Are they rebels?"
    "Cool," said Jenny. "I always wanted to meet some outsider rebels."
    And then everyone fell silent as the door swung open and two rebels with the same face stepped into the tavern. Young women in battered leathers with metal studs and dangling chains, over a grubby T-shirt bearing the legend Born To Burn. They were both short and stocky, with muscles bulging on their bare arms.
    Their long dark hair was full of brightly colored knotted ribbons, and there were splashes of matching colors on their faces. They might have been pretty, if it hadn't been for their shared frown and the stern, dangerous look in their
    eyes. They nodded briefly to the Deathstalker, glared intimidatingly at the SummerIsle, and ignored the two girls.
    "I'm Stevie One," said the woman on the left. "This is Stevie Three. Don't get us confused, or we'll get cranky about it."
    "Right," said Stevie Three. "We're really quite different once you get to know us."
    "Good to see you again," said David, trying hard to make his voice and smile seem natural. "What brings you all the way out here, exactly?"
    "You," said Stevie One. "But you can take your hand away from your