Deathstalker 04 - Deathstalker Honor

starcruiser.”
    “Should have got it in writing, stud,” said Hazel, smiling briefly as one of Valentine’s satellites exploded under her guns. “Maybe Valentine made a deal with the Hadenmen too. Or he’s been talking to Shub.
    Or even the aliens. Selling out all Humanity for simple personal gain is exactly the kind of thing you’d expect from Valentine Wolfe. Either way, we are in over our heads and sinking fast. Suggestions of a practical nature are urgently invited. Also prayers.” “To hell with trying to fight it out,” said Owen.
    “Throw as much power as you can into the shields and get us down fast, Oz. Hopefully the satellites are only programmed to hit things in a predetermined area. Once we’ve dropped below their response level, they should leave us alone. And then let us all hope Valentine hasn’t also invested in some ground defenses.”
    “Sounds like a plan to me,” said Hazel. “Can I make the landing?”
    “No,” said Owen firmly. “Let Oz do it. I’ve seen your landings, Hazel.”
    “Spoilsport.”
    The Sunstrider II plunged screaming through the atmosphere, wreathed in flames, until finally it fell out of range of the satellites, and the attack cut off. Owen and Hazel braced themselves for ground responses, but there were none. Apparently Valentine had expected his souped-up satellites to be all that was needed to discourage visitors. With any other ship he’d probably have been right. Oz finally eased off the steep descent and searched out a landing spot not too far from the Standing. Owen allowed himself to relax a little. “It would seem Valentine has powerful new allies,” he said thoughtfully. “I wonder what other surprises he has in store for us.” “Something nasty, no doubt,” said Hazel. “Knowing Valentine. But we can handle it.”
    “Don’t get cocky,” said Owen. “Valentine hasn’t survived this long by leaving anything to chance. He must have known I’d be coming after him once he set up shop here. He must have made…
    preparations.”
    “There’s nothing he can throw at us that we can’t throw right back at him,” said Hazel calmly. “I could have handled those satellites eventually, if you hadn’t chickened out. Nothing can harm us anymore, Owen. Not after all we’ve been through.”
    “Cocky,” said Owen. “Definitely cocky. It’ll all end in tears—“
    He would have said more, but navigation chimed discreetly, alerting him that the Sunstrider II was coming in for a touch down. Owen and Hazel studied the short-and long-range sensor displays carefully, but the ship landed without incident. Oz made them wait while he ran through his landing checklist. “Air quality, tolerable. Cold for the time of year, but within acceptable limits. No life signs. All right, it’s now officially safe to disembark. For old times’ sake, I’ve put down at the exact spot where Hazel first encountered you, Owen. Just call me a silly old sentimentalist.” “Shut up, Oz.”
    They made their way down to the airlock, and then Owen waited patiently while Hazel weighed herself down with a few more guns and ammunition belts. For all her claims of invulnerability, she still never felt really comfortable about going out in public unless she was carrying more guns than the average armed patrol group. Owen leaned against the steel bulkhead and remembered how things had been the first time he’d met Hazel d’Ark.
    He’d been on the run from his own security guards, badly wounded, fleeing desperately in a damaged flyer. They’d shot him down only a few miles from his Standing. He’d staggered away from the burning wreckage, bleeding profusely, and set his back against a nearby tree, to hold him up while he made his last stand. And then Hazel had appeared out of nowhere to save him from his enemies, cutting them down like a glorious if somewhat shop-soiled valkyrie, and together they’d fled Virimonde in the first Sunstrider. Owen had never been back since. He’d always meant to, but the rebellion never gave him time. He’d spent his childhood on a dozen different planets, as his father darted around the Empire pursuing his endless intrigues. But Virimonde had been his and his alone, his haven from a Family and a warrior’s destiny he’d never wanted. The only place he’d ever thought of as home.
    “Come on, stud, let’s get this show on the road. I haven’t killed anyone in hours, and I’m starting to get twitchy.”
    And then there was Hazel,