Deathstalker 05 - Deathstalker Destiny

them. Because she knew they would go on fighting till long after everyone else was dead; even if they were the only ones left in the wreck of a crumbling castle.
    The Excalibur ploughed on before the Last Standing, still striking out with every gun at its command. The whole ship was lit up like a great metal Christmas tree as fires burned, guns fired, and shields flared over and over, deflecting deadly energies. There were jagged holes in the outer hull where the shields had failed, and atmosphere boiled out into the vacuum, carrying broken and mostly unmoving bodies with it. They floated near their ship, as though afraid to go
    far into the dark on their own. But still the Excalibur pressed forward, forcing a path through the hell of endless firepower, right into the face of the enemy.
    Captain Cross appeared on the viewscreen in the great Hall of the Last Standing.
    Several of the bridge workstations had exploded, leaving their crew dead at their posts, still strapped into their chairs. People ran back and forth, trying to put out new fires, yelling information and orders to one another. Alarm sirens rang with shrill insistence, and half the bridge was lit only with the dull red glow of emergency lighting. Half the ship seemed to be trying to contact the bridge with damage reports or new losses, but no one had the time to listen. Captain Cross leaned forward, his face and shoulders filling the viewscreen as he glared at the unmoved Diana Vertue.
    "For God's sake, Vertue! Whatever you're going to do, do it now! Shields are going down all over my ship. We're taking serious damage. Outer and inner hulls have been breached. We're not going to last much longer!"
    "Hold your course, Captain," said Diana. "I'm not close enough yet."
    A vicious explosion rocked the Excalibur's bridge. Dead and injured crewmen were thrown through the air. Fresh fires broke out on all sides. All the light snapped off for a moment, plunging the bridge into a darkness broken only by the raging fires. Dark figures milled aimlessly, crying out. Emergency lighting came back slowly, almost reluctantly. There were dead men and women all over the bridge now, and blood spattered the walls and pooled on the floor. Less than half the workstations were now manned by the living. Captain Cross swayed unsteadily in his command chair. He'd taken a glancing blow to the head from some piece of flying debris, and blood ran thickly down one side of his dark face. He turned around in his seat, blinking hard as he tried to stay focused.
    "Talk to me, someone! What the hell just hit us?"
    His second in command came lurching forward out of the thickening black smoke, one side of his uniform blackened and charred. "Main shields are down all over the ship, Captain. Inner shields are mostly still holding. Energy beams are getting through everywhere. We've taken direct hits in sections Alpha and Beta…
    there are outer and inner hull breaches… Hell, Captain; one whole side of the ship's been ripped open! We've shut all the airtight doors, but we're still losing atmosphere. And heat, and gravity. God knows what the crew losses are."
    "Concentrate all power to the forward shields," Cross said quietly. "Shut down all power to the damaged sections."
    "But sir; there are still survivors in those sections! We're still getting comm traffic out of them!"
    "It doesn't matter! Redirect the power!" He looked back at Diana. "My people are dying for you, Vertue. My ship is dying. Tell me this is all for something real, and not just some damned esper theory."
    "Hold your course, Captain," Diana said steadily. "We're almost there. It will all be over soon. One way or another. And if I'm wrong, I'll die with you."
    She broke off the connection, and switched the viewscreen back to the main battle. Shub's fleet spread out before her, but still not quite close enough.
    The Last Standing's weapons were still blasting holes in the huge fleet, but with only one ship left to protect the castle, it was coming under increasingly intense fire. Its shields were pierced again and again by concentrated firepower. Bit by bit, the Shub fleet whittled away at the castle. The elegant stone towers went first, leveled floor by floor, blasted to atoms by Shub disrupter cannon. The outer walls took hit after hit, still somehow holding together, sustained by ancient tech and forgotten miracles. But as the Last
    Standing edged remorselessly closer to the Shub fleet, holes began to appear in the castle's