Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

We have to fall back and find some place we can defend!"
    "Damn right," said Hazel, suddenly at Owen's side. "You trying to get us all killed. Random?"
    "My apologies," said Young Jack Random. "You're quite right, of course. I got carried away for the moment."
    "Fine," said Owen. "Now shut the hell up and run."
    The defenders fell back before the advancing battle wagons, but it was an organized retreat, not a rout. They spilled back through the narrow streets and
    alleyways, confident the huge bulking machines couldn't follow them. The machines' disrupter cannon swiveled from side to side, trying to find a grouping of rebels big enough to be worth firing on, but the rebels had already learned that lesson the hard way, and scattered into smaller and smaller groups as they fell back. So the war wagons opened fire on the streets themselves, blowing buildings and walls apart in showers of pulverized brick and mortar. There were shouts and screams as people disappeared beneath the collapsing buildings, and soon there were only piles of smoking rubble where the streets had been, over which the huge battle wagons pressed relentlessly forward.
    The Imperial troopers saw the triumph of the war machines, and began to re-form behind them. The defenders' retreat began to turn into a rout after all. Owen and Hazel stopped and looked back. The war wagons surged toward them, guns roaring, devouring Mistport street by street. Above, the gravity barges hovered like vast storm clouds. Owen reached out a hand to Hazel, and she took it firmly, the same thought in both their minds. Their joined thoughts reached up and out. One of the gravity barges suddenly lurched in midair, as some unseen, implacable force seized hold of it. The engines roared and strained, and then overloaded, as something pulled the barge down out of the sky and smashed it into the war machines below.
    The night was ripped apart by the force of the explosion, and flames roaring up from the tangled wreckage lit the nearby streets bright as day. The invading forces had to retreat yet again, or be showered by falling molten metal, thrown hundreds of yards by the blast. But none of the defenders were harmed. The tumbling debris seemed to fall well short every time, as though they were protected by some unseen hand. The rebels stopped running and stood and cheered, celebrating the good fortune that had saved them. Of them all, only John Silver
    knew to whom they owed their lives. He watched as Owen and Hazel came out of their trance, looked down at their linked hands, and grinned self-consciously.
    They let go, and moved off into the cheering crowds. Silver watched them go, and wondered again what they were. What they were becoming. And if, just possibly, they might grow to be so powerful that they became more of a threat to Mistport than the Empire ever had been. He moved off after them, shaken by his thoughts, but already pondering possible actions, should it prove necessary. And wondering if he'd done the right thing in saving the Deathstalker's life after all.
    He'd always felt a little superior, because some humans feared espers for their powers. Now he knew how those people felt. He wasn't top of the heap anymore. He wasn't even sure he could see the top of the heap from where he was.
    Back among the retreating Empire troopers were Toby Shreck and his cameraman Flynn. They'd been put down to join the ground forces, and get close-up shots of the glorious invasion, only things hadn't turned out that way. The moment it became clear things were going seriously wrong, Lieutenant Ffolkes ordered Flynn to recall his camera and shut it down. The live broadcast was over, owing to technical difficulties. To make it clear how serious those difficulties were, Ffolkes stuck a gun in Flynn's back, and kept it there until the camera had safely returned to perch on Flynn's shoulder again. Its single red eye went out, and it was still. Toby protested, but no one listened to him. He hadn't expected they would, but he had to raise his voice anyway, or they'd think he was getting soft. Neither he nor Flynn doubted Ffolkes would have used the gun. He was white with fury at the invading forces' defeat, and looked like he was ready to take it out on anyone stupid enough to upset him. So Toby and Flynn fell back with the retreating forces until Ffolkes was called away to be objectionable
    somewhere else. After he was gone, they got some great footage of the crashing gravity barge, and then