Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

it to some good use. I can’t restore the treasures that you’ve lost, and the things that meant so much to you, I know that; but the Deathstalker Standing can be made magnificent again. We’ll see to that. When all this madness is over, we’ll put everything right again. You’ll see.”
    “It wouldn’t be the first time this old place has been rebuilt,” Lewis admitted. “Deathstalkers tend to lead . . . dramatic lives.”
    “How are you feeling, Lewis?”
    “Glad that you’re here with me. And glad that I came here, and saw this. It reminds me of the oldest truth of my Family: that no matter how bad things get, Clan Deathstalker endures. We never forgive, we never forget, and we bring our enemies down—whatever it takes.”
    Sometime later, his pinnace led a flotilla of assorted ships up from Virimonde to join the waiting fleet, more than doubling it in size. Clan Deathstalker was going to war.

    Back on the flagship Havoc , Brett Random and Rose Constantine had been roaming the steel corridors for some time, looking for some trouble to get into. Brett had run out of wine, and was bored; always a dangerous combination. So he went wandering, and Rose went along with him, because whatever Brett got up to, it was bound to be at least interesting. No one ever challenged their right to be wherever they were; they were the Deathstalker’s companions, and therefore trusted. More fools them, Brett thought. He descended farther and farther into the ship, into areas passengers rarely ever saw. Brett was determined to find something amusing to do, if only to demonstrate his independence from Lewis. Besides, with the drink finished, there was nothing else left to do except have sex with Rose, and there was a limit to how much of that his nerves could stand.
    “There’s got to be a still somewhere on this ship,” he growled. “Or a med tech turning out knockoff battle drugs.
    Something to get a desperate man comfortably out of his head for a while. I did try the med bay earlier, but Jesamine had already warned the doctors about me, the bitch.”
    “Why don’t I just grab someone, and pound them until they tell us where to find the good stuff?” Rose said reasonably.
    Brett winced. “Better not. We’re not exactly popular around here as it is. The last time I went down to the main galley, just looking for a little food and good company and perhaps a friendly game of dice, everyone I tried to talk to just made some excuse and left. Some of them didn’t even bother with the excuse. Some of them even left their meals behind.”
    “Our reputation has gone before us,” said Rose.
    Brett sniffed loudly. “No one’s actually said anything, of course. We are Maze people, after all, and friends of the Deathstalker. But are we treated like heroes? Are we hell as like. We’re made about as welcome as a skid mark on a hotel towel. You know what, Rose? I think you’re right. To hell with whether or not Lewis gets upset. Grab the next crewman you see, and shake some information out of him.”
    So they stood and waited for the next unfortunate to pass by, and then Rose picked him up and slammed him against the nearest wall. Brett explained what it was they wanted to know, and the crewman expressed every eagerness to assist them, if only Rose would move the point of her dagger just a little farther away from his eyeball.
    “Try the third subgalley, down on deck forty-three. There’s always something going on there.”
    Rose dropped him back onto his feet, and put away her dagger. The crewman slid along the wall, putting a little distance between them, and scowled at Brett.
    “I knew we couldn’t trust you. Scum always finds its own level.”
    “We are not scum!” said Brett. “We’ve been through the Madness Maze, remember?”
    “That’s right. You’re monsters. We should have locked you up in the cargo bay, along with all the other freaks from Shandrakor.”
    Rose raised her knife again, but Brett stopped her. He’d had enough of hiding bodies. He smiled unpleasantly at the crewman, and put all his esper compulsion into his voice. “You. Forget all about this conversation. Then shit yourself. Then run away.”
    The crewman did all these things, to Brett’s amusement. “I really hate this ship,” he announced, not caring whether anyone heard him. “I could cope when it was just Lewis and Jesamine being disapproving, but everyone here sees us as second-class heroes, at best.”
    Rose said