Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

dissension in the ranks when it comes time to fight? That’s the last thing we can afford when we come to face Finn’s defenses.”
    “Should we tell someone?” said Rose. She made a genuine effort to sound interested, to please Brett, but she didn’t really care.
    “Not yet.” Brett frowned, running the possibilities in his head. “We need to know more. And, just maybe . . . I smell an opportunity. Let us press on.”
    At the entrance to deck forty-three, they found someone waiting for them. A single crewman, in a marine’s uniform, tall and lithely muscular, with a rather droopy mustache that didn’t suit his otherwise wolfish features. He smiled and nodded easily to the newcomers.
    “Brett Random. Rose Constantine. We’ve all been looking forward to meeting you.”
    “Have you?” said Brett, ready to break and run at a moment’s notice.
    “Oh yes. I’m Leslie Springfield, marine trooper second class, and Random’s Bastard in bad standing.”
    “The best kind,” Brett said automatically, and Leslie grinned.
    “You should be glad I’m here. This is enemy territory. You wouldn’t have made it this far if I hadn’t vouched for you.”
    “That was very kind of you,” said Brett. “What’s it going to cost me?”
    “Maybe a small percentage, later on. Now come with me; people are waiting to talk with you.”
    “What sort of people?” said Brett.
    “The large and growing part of this crew who remain loyal to Emperor Finn, and the ideals of Pure Humanity and Church Militant. The illusion of the false Owen didn’t fool us for a moment. We knew Shub trickery when we saw it. The true Owen would never reject our ideals. He was always an enemy of aliens and the AIs of Shub. Now do let’s hurry along. You didn’t really come down here for a drink and a game of cards, Brett, and you know it. You could have found them anywhere, if you’d really wanted to. No, whether you knew it or not, you were looking for us, because you know we’re the winning side. Price’s bunch of losers and freaks don’t stand a chance against properly motivated Imperial armies.”
    “Maybe,” said Brett. “What exactly are you selling, Leslie?”
    “A chance to be legitimate again. To come back where you belong. I can hook you up with the loyalist cause, even put you in contact with the Emperor himself. Yes, I thought that would interest you. Come on, Brett; you don’t belong with the traitor Deathstalker and his slut. They’re going to lose and lose hard, and you know it. Mainly because the loyalist crew are going to seize control of all the starcruisers in this fleet, long before we get anywhere near Logres. We have no intention of fighting and dying for heretics. And remember: there is a hell of a big reward waiting for anyone who brings the Emperor the heads of the Deathstalker and Flowers. Fifteen million credits apiece.”
    “What is it you people want from me?” said Brett. “Not that I’m committing myself to anything, you understand. I’m just . . . listening.”
    Leslie shrugged. “Information, to begin with. Mostly concerning the Deathstalker and Flowers. When they’re at their weakest, and most off guard.”
    “What about John Silence?” Rose said suddenly, and both men jumped a little. “He is a legend.”
    “Is he hell?” said Leslie, curling his lip. “He’s just an old merchant trader with delusions of grandeur. Playing Santa Claus at the Coronation wasn’t enough for Samuel Chevron, oh no, he has to be John bloody Silence. You’ll notice he was careful not to go down to Mistworld or Virimonde, where they knew the man, and could have unmasked an impostor. No, the original John Silence was a good military man, and unwaveringly loyal to the throne.”
    “Fifteen million credits apiece,” said Brett. “I have to say . . . I am tempted. What do you think, Rose?”
    “You will decide for both of us, Brett, as you always do. I have never cared for which side I’m on, as long as I get to kill a whole bunch of people.”
    “Predictable,” said Brett. “But still upsetting.”
    “Besides,” Rose said thoughtfully. “I’ve always wanted to know whether I could take the Deathstalker.”
    “Join us,” said Leslie. “Soon there will be an uprising on every starcruiser in the fleet. Loyal crewmembers will position themselves to strike down every officer who is not with us, and replace them with our own people. Then we shall take control of the fleet, and put to death all