Deathstalker 04 - Deathstalker Honor

differently.
    For a long moment the four of them just stood there and looked at each other with varying degrees of incredulity, and then Owen turned to Hazel. “Tell me you didn’t summon these two on purpose.”
    “Now, there’s a fine welcome,” said the black warrior woman in a deep rich voice full of humor. “And after I came such a long way to meet you. I’m Midnight Blue. Is that really another version of me?”
    “Well, that’s one way of putting it,” said Owen. “I’m—“
    “Oh, I know you, Owen Deathstalker,” said Midnight Blue. And then she lunged forward and threw her arms around him, still holding her ax, and crushed him to her impressive bosom with enough strength to drive the air from Owen’s lungs. He’d just started to get his balance back when she suddenly pushed him away, sheathed her ax on her belt, hauled off, and slapped him a good one right across the face. The sound of the impact was deafening. Owen reeled backward from the force of the blow, and might have fallen if Midnight hadn’t grabbed him in a hug again, tears starting in her eyes.
    “Well,” said Hazel, “you always did know how to make a strong impression on people, Deathstalker.”
    She looked at the pierced white apparition. “Do you have any idea what’s going on here?”
    “None at all,” said her alternate in a chilling contralto. “I’m Bonnie Bedlam, by the way. Are you sure you’re me?”
    “Apparently. I’m Hazel d’Ark. Look around and see if you can spot a crowbar we can use to pry these two apart.”
    Midnight Blue held Owen out at arm’s length and smiled at him tremulously.
    “Owen, you bastard! How could you leave me? Oh, it’s so good to see you again!” “May I please point out,” said Owen in a slightly breathless voice, “that I am not the Owen you knew.”
    “Of course not. He’s dead. But you’ll do.”
    Midnight didn’t say for what, and Hazel didn’t think she was going to ask. She looked at Bonnie Bedlam. “Do you know Owen as well?” “I should hope so,” said Bonnie in her cold voice. “We’re married where I come from.”
    Hazel decided she wasn’t ready to ask about that, and looked back at Midnight Blue, who had put Owen down and was pulling his clothing back into place with little tugs and pats, while Owen just stood there and took it, afraid to do anything that might set her off again. She finally finished and smiled at Owen almost shyly.
    “Sorry about that. It was just… the shock of seeing you alive again.” “Well, if you want him to stay that way, I should lay off the hugs,” said Hazel dryly.
    “I think we could all use a little recent background history here,” said Owen tactfully. “Obviously your lives have taken very different paths from the Hazel I know. Why don’t you start, Midnight?”
    “The rebellion’s been over for some time,” said Midnight Blue. “It’s a mess everywhere. Billions dead, whole planets destroyed or thrown back into barbarism. You were killed, Owen, when Lionstone destroyed Golgotha with her hidden planet-buster bomb. Jack and Ruby died with you. I was the only Maze survivor left to try to start things running again. I should have been there with you, to confront Lionstone in her Court, but I walked out on you all when Jack made his deal with the Families. I couldn’t stand for that. Ruby almost left with me, but in the end she chose to stand with her Jack. And die with him, as it turned out.
    “After the rebellion I tried to hold things together, but too much had been destroyed. And I never was any good at politics. So eventually I said to hell with them all and took off on my own. I’m back as a
    pirate again, running my own ship, the Faust. Lots of opportunities for a pirate in an Empire thrown into chaos. But I missed you so much, Owen. So when I heard the call, I jumped at the chance.”
    “That’s very… sweet,” Owen said carefully. “But I’m not necessarily the Owen you knew. After all, you’re very different from my Hazel…” “Yes,” said Midnight, looking at Hazel just a little disparagingly.
    “You really do need to work out more, dear.”
    “How about you?” said Owen, turning quickly to Bonnie Bedlam. “Did I hear you right? We’re…”
    “Married, yes.” The tall, slender woman smiled at him, showing pointed front teeth. “We’ve been together almost two years now. You look a lot like my Owen. Before the piercings. And the tattoos.
    Golgotha survived in our