Deathstalker 07 - Deathstalker Return

turn, dear Lewis. You and all your little group.
    Welcome to Hell, Deathstalker; and to all the wonderful, terrible things I'm going to make you do."
    The Gray Train reached out to invade their minds, only to recoil as the Standing's esp-blocker tech kicked in, protecting Lewis and his people. The Paragons cried out in unison, sharing the uber-esper's pain. And while they were distracted, Lewis grabbed a grenade from his belt and threw it into their midst.
    He yelled to his people to hit the ground, and they were all down and covering their heads with their arms as the explosion threw Paragons dead and wounded from their sleds. Lewis was on his feet again in a moment, yelling to his people to get up, and they all opened fire on the surviving Paragons.
    "Lewis!" Oz's voice sounded suddenly in Lewis's ear. "I'm on my way! The Hereward'll be with you any minute. Hang on!"
    "No!" Lewis said immediately. "They'll blow you apart on sight!"
    "Never happen," the AI said confidently. "This ship's got really ace shields and stealth capabilities, remember? They'll never see me until it's too late. Now hang on in there, and don't worry!
    Reinforcements are on the way!"
    Lewis realized all the Paragons were dead now, though Rose was still chopping at a few of the bodies with her sword, just to make sure. The attack ships were hovering overhead, confused by the sudden
    turn of events, but they'd soon start firing again, and Lewis and his people were caught out in the open.
    And then he gaped in disbelief as an army of monsters came crashing through the burning jungle and into the clearing, surrounding the Deathstalker and his people. They threw themselves into the air and attacked the lower ships, smashing through the steel hulls with their unnatural strength. And from all of them came the same battle cry: For the Deathstalker!
    The Gray Train tried to possess the monsters' minds, and couldn't. They were just too different, too altered. The Hereward arrived, slipping easily through the attack ships with amazing speed and dexterity.
    Some of the battle barges, high above, opened fire at last, but the lower ships were in the way. They fired anyway, killing their own people along with the monsters. Lewis and his companions crowded aboard the Hereward, and Oz immediately engaged full power and shot up through the smoky sky, heading for orbit.
    The attack ships turned ponderously slowly to follow. And the computers in the Deathstalker Standing overloaded its power plant, and blew it apart. The ancient castle exploded into a brilliant ball of energy, enveloping and destroying every Imperial ship in the vicinity. One last service, for Clan Deathstalker.

Chapter 6
    THE DEATH OF PRINCES, AND OF KINGS
    Finn Durandal was having a busy day, but he couldn't honestly say he was enjoying himself. In fact, he'd signed all the death warrants he could find, and hadn't smiled once. Finn sighed, pushed his executive chair back from his ostentatiously antique desk, and swiveled idly back and forth. Who could have predicted that bringing down an Empire would involve so much bloody paperwork? More and more these days, it seemed nobody could be trusted to do what he told them to do, without him peering over their shoulder all the time. Either they didn't have the guts to do the things that clearly needed to be done, or they were complete religious fanatics who'd never even heard of self-restraint. On the one hand, having an army of enthusiastic bigots at his beck and call enabled him to bring about far more destruction and despair than he could ever have hoped to achieve on his own, but on the other hand… there just wasn't any fun in learning about it secondhand. What was the point in grinding down your enemies and killing off everyone who opposed you, if you couldn't get a little of their blood on your hands in the process? Finn sniffed loudly, and allowed his lower lip to pout just a bit. He was a man of action, not a paper shuffler. But you don't get to be dictator over all that lives unless you're prepared to put in the work, so…
    Finn called in his private secretary, gave him a good glare just to put the wind up him, and then demanded another iced tea and more of the nice muffins. The secretary backed out, bowing all the way, and Finn went back to his paperwork, signing on the dotted line and initialing extra clauses until his wrist ached.
    It was well past noon before Finn had caught up with enough of the day's business that he felt justified