Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

"I'm a journalist."
    In his short career Toby had shown a remarkable talent for being in the right place at the right time, and producing excellent coverage of extraordinary events, first on Technos III and then on Mistworld. His reports hadn't made him any friends among the powers that were, but his ratings were going through the roof. Toby was quietly very proud of this. During his long career cleaning up after Gregor Shreck's messes, he'd often dreamed of being a real journalist, covering real stories. Now that he'd got his chance, he was living his dream.
    And if he got uncomfortably close to having his ass shot off on more than one occasion, well, that came with the job. He grinned at the image of Shannon's World on the viewscreen. He would be the first journalist ever to set foot on the legendary dream world, and the first to tell what had gone so horribly wrong there. Life was good, sometimes.
    His cameraman, Flynn, was quietly dozing in the seat beside him, his camera perched on his shoulder like a drowsy owl. Flynn didn't believe in getting excited until there was something definite present to be excited over. And he did like to get his rest when he could. An excellent cameraman, Flynn, and a steadfast companion. Toby just hoped he wasn't wearing ladies' underwear under his clothes again.
    Just in front of Toby, staring blankly at the viewscreen, was Julian Skye. Toby didn't quite know what to make of the young esper. He'd been handsome once, apparently, before the Imperial interrogators went to work on him. They'd done a lot of damage, to his body and his mind, before Finlay rescued him. Most of it had healed, but the broken bones of his face had mended lumpily, and parts of his face still hung slack from damaged nerves. He wore a rather obvious wig, to
    hide the steel plate covering the hole the mind techs had made in the back of his skull so they could work on the brain directly.
    Before his capture, he'd had a reputation in the underground as one of their wildest, most daring operatives. But his time in the torturers' cells had destroyed his bravado, and while he hadn't crawled or broken or betrayed anyone, he was haunted by the certainty that he would have, eventually. Finlay had rescued him just in time, and Julian had clung to him ever since. He didn't feel safe when Finlay wasn't around. Finlay, to his credit, had tried to discourage this, building up Julian's courage and confidence when he could, but the esper's hurts ran deep, and he constantly found excuses that would keep him close to Finlay. He even argued his way into what everyone said was a suicide mission, just to be with Finlay.
    It wasn't clear yet what Evangeline made of this. Toby kept an eye on all of them, just in case. There was a story there just waiting to happen, and he didn't want to miss it when it finally broke.
    He also kept a careful if inconspicuous eye on Giles Deathstalker. The first and greatest of his line, first Warrior Prime of the Empire, nine hundred years ago.
    Who had wielded the Darkvoid Device, and put out a thousand suns in an instant, leaving their inhabited worlds to wither and die in the sunless cold and dark.
    Billions died in horror and despair, because of one man's decision. Giles was tall but sparsely built, though his arms bulged with muscle. He dressed in battered furs and leathers, like a barbarian, and wore his long grey hair in a mercenary's scalplock. He looked to be in his late fifties, with a solid, lined face, his mouth a thin flat line above his silver-grey goatee. His eyes were a surprisingly mild grey, but his gaze was firm and unwavering. He looked hard and
    uncompromising, a vision from the past, when the Empire had been a proud and honorable enterprise, served by proud and honorable men. Giles Deathstalker, greatest hero and greatest traitor of his own time, who would not yield then or now to anything that might compromise his sense of honor or duty.
    Or so it was said. All Toby knew for sure was that the man looked like death on two legs just sitting there, calm and relaxed as though heading into a vacation.
    Giles Deathstalker scared the shit out of Toby, and he didn't care who knew it.
    He looked back at the mysterious planet growing steadily on the viewscreen. He found it less disturbing.
    "You people know more about Shannon's World than I do," he said easily, as though he'd never paused. "But according to rumor, it was supposed to be very restful down there. No worries, no pressures…