Deathstalker 05 - Deathstalker Destiny

what they're doing here, right now. And may I also remind you we don't have any guns on this miserable cobbled-together rustbucket?"
    "Probably just as well," said Owen. "They're not actually threatening us, as yet. With our shields up, we may be too small to draw their attention. Start shooting at them, and we might just get them interested in us. I think I'd like to avoid that, if at all possible. I say we stay very calm and very quiet, and hope they overlook us."
    Hazel sniffed. "For once, I find myself in complete agreement with you. I don't think even a full-sized starcruiser would last long against that many nightmares. But how are we going to get down to the planet, without them noticing?"
    The viewscreen chimed politely, making them both jump, alerting them to an incoming message. Owen quickly changed the screen from sensor input to the comm systems, and the disturbing gathering on the screen vanished, to be replaced by the great shaggy head and shoulders of the Wolfling. The skull had a definite lupine quality, but the face was still unsettlingly human. Wulf smiled, revealing sharp and unpleasant teeth, his eyes fixed and direct, a predator's gaze.
    "I've been waiting for you to get here, Deathstalker. We must talk. There are many things we need to discuss, before the end."
    "The end?" said Hazel sharply, just a little miffed at not being addressed too.
    "The end of what?"
    "Everything, possibly." The Wolfling didn't seem too upset at the prospect. His grin widened, showing even more teeth, looking less like a smile all the time.
    "Is it the baby?" said Owen. "Is he waking up?"
    "Oh yes," said the Wolfling, almost casually. "And has been, for some time now.
    He was sleeping so very deeply, and he's had a long rise back to consciousness.
    But soon he will be fully awake, and by then we must have decided what to do.
    Join me, and we will talk of many things, before the end."
    "In case you hadn't noticed," Hazel said acidly, "we are currently surrounded by all kinds of weird shit, some of them with teeth you wouldn't believe, and with the good God only knows how much firepower between them. How are we supposed to get to you?"
    "The teleport systems are still working," Wulf said calmly. "The Deathstalker installed them long ago, and they still function. Giles always planned for the future. When you are ready, I'll have them bring you to me."
    Owen shut off the comm sound for a moment, so he could talk privately with
    Hazel. "Now that is interesting. I'd always assumed the Last Standing teleported us down to the planet, the last time we were here; not the other way around. The power in those old systems must be incredible. I wonder what other surprises my dear departed ancestor might have left behind."
    Hazel frowned. "Speaking of the departed, do you suppose Wulf knows Giles is dead?"
    "He must, by now. And that I killed him. He just might be inviting us down so he can take his revenge on me."
    "Let him try. He's big, but we've been through the Maze."
    "So has he. More than once. Just because we never saw him manifest any powers, it doesn't mean he hasn't got any."
    Hazel frowned. "Now that is an unpleasant thought. All right; how do you want to play this?"
    "Very carefully. And extremely diplomatically." Owen turned the sound back on, and smiled cheerfully at the Wolfling. "We're ready to come down, Sir Wulf. Will our ship be all right, up here alone, surrounded by the Recreated?"
    "It's too small for them to be concerned with," said the Wolfling. "The Recreated are always here, in the Darkvoid. They belong here. They may leave, but some are always here."
    Owen frowned, as a thought struck him. "We never saw any sign of them, the first time we passed through the Darkvoid."
    "They were hiding," said the Wolfling. "They remembered the Last Standing. It frightened them."
    He broke off contact, and the screen went blank. Owen looked at Hazel. "The Last Standing frightened the Recreated!"
    "Not the castle," said Hazel. "It was who the Standing belonged to. Giles Deathstalker. It always comes back to him, and the schemes and conspiracies he set in motion, all those centuries ago."
    "Then I suppose it's up to me to finally put an end to them," said Owen. "The last of his Family. The last Deathstalker."
    And then they both suddenly and silently vanished away, gone from the bridge of the Sunstrider III between one moment and the next, and all around the vast and awful shapes of the Recreated stirred slowly, as though