Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

overshadowed them on every side, and all that was left to Owen and Hazel was to stand and die. The marines pressed forward, drunk on blood and death and stoned to the eyeballs on designer battle drugs, not caring about the dead comrades they had to step over to get at their enemies. Owen Deathstalker and Hazel d'Ark fought side by side with failing strength, not feeling the wounds that soaked their clothes in blood. Chevron watched from the rear, scowling impatiently, and then signaled for Kast and Morgan to bring forward the portable disrupter cannon. It would be messier this way, but more certain.

    The two marines pulled the cannon quickly into position, pointed it into the back square, and set about the warm-up sequences. Kast and Morgan had been picked up by Chevron's troops as they swept inward from the north, and had volunteered to carry the portable cannon. Partly because it meant less actual work for them, and partly because they felt a great deal safer with a disrupter cannon between them and the rest of the rebel city. The taking of the city had been supposed to be a walkover, but apparently the rebels hadn't read the script, and didn't know they were beaten. So Kast and Morgan kept their heads down and labored over the cannon, got it primed and ready, and looked inquiringly at Chevron. He yelled for his people to fall back and give the cannon a clear shot, but they didn't hear him, out of their heads on drugs and the scent of victory. Chevron called again, his voice almost shrill with anger as his men ignored him, and then he turned to Kast and Morgan and nodded sharply. They looked at their fellow marines before them, and then at each other. Morgan shrugged, and Kast hit the firing stud.
    The wide energy beam roared from the disrupter cannon, disintegrating everything directly before it. The marines were swept away like burning leaves in a gale.
    Owen and Hazel just had time to sense what was coming, and then the howling energy hit them. They brought up their psionic shields at the last moment, but there was no time, and the shields only slowed the deadly energy. It picked Hazel up and smashed her though the rear stone wall like a bullet from a gun.
    Owen threw himself to one side, and the energy beam just clipped him in passing.
    It slammed him against the left-hand wall with enough strength to crack the stonework from top to bottom. The beam snapped off, and he dropped almost senseless to the ground.
    Owen lay there for what seemed like ages. His whole left side was numb. He
    rolled slowly onto one side and tried to get his feet under him. His head hurt, and there was blood in his mouth. The world seemed very quiet around him, the sounds of battle far away, as though everything was hesitating, to see what would happen next. He rose to one knee, swayed sickly, and then forced himself to his feet by leaning against the cracked stone wall. Parts of dead marines, torn and burnt and fused together, lay scattered across the square, marking the edges of the beam. Some marines and an officer stood behind the disrupter cannon facing him, which hummed loudly as it powered up for another shot. They seemed to be looking at something behind him. Owen turned slowly to look. He saw the hole in the wall where Hazel had been standing and knew at once what it meant.
    He tilted back his head, and something that was partly a scream and partly a howl of rage echoed back from the walls of the square.
    A camera hovered high above him, getting it all. Toby Shreck and Flynn had been swept along with Chevron's force, and since they were heading for the center of the city and certain victory, the two newsmen had stuck with them.
    Unfortunately, Chevron had proved as insufferable as their official minder, Lieutenant Ffolkes. But as long as they were getting good footage of Imperial victories, he was content to let them get on with their job. Like covering the final bringing to heel and execution of that most notable traitor and outlaw, Owen Deathstalker.
    Toby couldn't believe his luck. One of the great turning points of history, and he was right there on the spot. He'd recognized the Deathstalker the moment he set eyes on him. He'd become the face of the rebellion for many people in the Empire, almost as famous as the legendary professional rebel. Jack Random. He looked… different in person. Not as tall or as big as expected, but still there
    was something about him—an air, a feeling of greatness. Somehow you just knew you