Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

the right thing. But whatever the reason, the brains that made up Legion gave up their hold on life and let themselves die. There was a great outpouring of light on the mental plane, as thousands of men and women
    broke free and went to their reward at last. And left behind, broken and helpless, nothing but a dark cancerous mass, writhing and squirming—Wormboy's worms. The Mater Mundi stepped on them, and they died screaming.
    On the bridge of the Defiant, Investigator Razor watched Legion die. Every piece of monitoring equipment showed the creature's life signs dropping to zero. For no obvious reason, the huge mass in the glass tank had given up the ghost.
    Deathstalker. Damn him. Razor turned to his other consoles. Half the bridge tech wasn't working, and what was brought him nothing but bad news. Most of his bridge crew were catatonic, and the rest might as well be. He grabbed the Second in Command by the shoulder and shook him until some sense came back into his eyes.
    "In Captain Bartok's absence, I am assuming authority on this ship," Razor said slowly and clearly. "I want every armed man down in Legion's hold. Kill everything you find there."
    "We already tried that, sir," said the Second. "No one can get anywhere near the hold. Something's… preventing us."
    Razor thought hard. Around him, the bridge crew began to stir and return to their senses. With Legion dead, it wouldn't be long before Mistport's surviving espers suddenly found they had their powers back. And then there'd be hell to pay. They'd wipe out the forces on the ground, and then turn their attention to the Defiant.
    "Power up all the systems," Razor said flatly. "Prepare to scorch Mistport."
    "Sir?" said the Second in Command. "Our people are still down there, sir."
    "With Legion down, they're as good as dead anyway. Our orders were to bring Mistworld back into the Empire. If I have to turn it into a single great funeral
    pyre to do so, then that's what I'll do. Bring all the disrupter cannon on-line.
    On my command, commence firing. And don't stop while there's one speck of life left on that miserable planet."
    And that was when the lights went out. There was a long moment of utter darkness, and then the emergency systems came back on, bathing the bridge in a crimson glow. The Second checked his instruments. When he looked up, his eyes were scared.
    "All main systems are down, sir. Practically everything except basic life support. Some… unknown force shut them down. We're helpless, sir."
    Investigator Razor sat down in the command chair and wondered how he was going to explain this to the Empress.
    In the auditorium holding Legion's tank, all was still and quiet. Both Legion and the Mater Mundi were gone, their overwhelming presence absent The great fleshy mass had sunk to the bottom of its tank. Owen and Hazel stood together, getting used to being back in their own head again. Typhoid Mary, only herself again, bent over Captain Bartok, who was sitting on the floor, staring at nothing.
    "Don't bother," said Owen. "I already checked. There's no one home. Whatever he saw here, his mind couldn't handle it."
    "Damn," said Hazel. "I was looking forward to killing him."
    "The killing's over," said Mary, straightening up. "Let's go home."
    "Sounds good to me," said Owen. "Let's see if we can requisition an escape pod.
    I doubt anybody will be in the mood to say no to us."
    They left the auditorium. Captain Bartok sat very still, staring with empty eyes at the dead mass in the tank.
    Afterward, what was left of Mistport celebrated. Those few marines who didn't
    run back to their pinnaces fast enough were hunted down and killed. No one was in the mood to take prisoners. The dead were piled to one side, to be disposed of later. Rescue squads formed themselves and set about digging in collapsed buildings, in search of survivors. Mistport had come through again. There was a hell of a lot of rebuilding to be done, but the bulk of the city had survived.
    It took a lot to kill Mistworlders. If only because if you could survive Mistport, you could handle pretty much anything else the universe could throw at you.
    What remained of the Council was working at the esper union's hall, coordinating relief work and making sure the espers' psionic screen stayed in place until the Defiant was safely gone. No point in taking chances. Everyone else in the hall was partying like there was no tomorrow. Probably because so many of them hadn't expected to live to see