Deathstalker 08 - Deathstalker Coda

it makes me feel so hot . . .”
    People around her were backing away. Brett felt like joining them.
    “You will be well rewarded afterwards,” said Leslie, just a little hoarsely, as he tried to get things back online again. “You will be honored heroes of the new order, and decorated by the Emperor himself.”
    “So?” said Rose.
    “What about John Silence?” Brett said quickly. People in the crowd murmured the ancient, legendary name.
    “We will deal with the admiral ,” said Leslie. “He claims to be navy, one of us, but he is not. Just a jumped-up merchant trader, tarnishing a legend.”
    “He does seem to have . . . powers,” Brett pointed out diffidently.
    “Then we will drag him down, drive a stake through his heart, burn the body, and scatter the ashes to space,” said Leslie. “We are the faithful, and our faith will sustain us.”
    Rather you than me , thought Brett, but had enough sense not to say it. “When does the uprising start, Leslie?”
    “It has already started,” Leslie said, smiling at Brett’s reaction. “Our people in the comm section have already taken control, spreading the word through the ships in the fleet. The Mistworld and Virimonde trash are cut off from the starcruisers. By the time they figure out what’s happening, it will be far too late. And we will deal with those traitors at our leisure. For now the killing has begun. The culling of the ungodly. Let us go forth and join them. Blood shall flow, bodies shall fall, and Pure Humanity and the Church Militant shall triumph at last!”
    Oh, shit, thought Brett, as the crowd erupted into cheers. What do I do now?

    Returned to the bridge of the Havoc , Silence realized almost immediately that something was wrong when the comm officer reported that all the usual ship-to-ship chatter had suddenly ceased. Silence tried to raise the Havoc ’s comm center, and couldn’t. Even interior communications were down. Silence sent runners out to discover what the hell was going on, and alert his security people. Something bad was happening aboard his ship. He could feel it. Reports began coming in slowly, of widespread acts of sabotage, of officers found murdered at their posts, of fighting in the steel corridors. The ship’s Armory had been broken into, and all kinds of weapons seized. If Silence hadn’t acted immediately on his instincts, most of his people would have had no warning at all.
    His first thought was that somehow the Havoc had been boarded, by Imperial agents from the opposite fleet, but not even the smallest attack craft could have sneaked up on Silence’s ship without him knowing. The comm officer managed to get the security cameras back online, and soon they were watching fierce fighting raging back and forth in all parts of the ship. Many of the attackers wore Pure Humanity and Church Militant sashes, and shouted out their cold and vicious slogans as they fought, shooting at anyone who wasn’t them. Silence cursed himself. He’d thought allowing the graffiti and loud talk would act as a safety valve, letting the frustrations out before they could build. But it seemed he’d seriously underestimated the problem.
    He sent out repair techs to deal with the sabotage, backed up by armed security men. The ship had to be protected first. Silence reached out with his mind. The Imperial fleet was getting really close now. He had to put down the loyalist rebellion before Finn’s ships got within firing range. He watched his screens helplessly as friends and fellow workers turned on each other, with guns or knives or whatever came to hand. Great acts of heroism and treachery were performed in the gleaming steel corridors, and the blood flowed thickly. There were bodies everywhere. The fighting was fierce and brutal. Faith in the Church Militant fueled one side, and faith in the blessed Owen fired the other. There was no meeting ground, no possibility for mercy.
    Silence threw himself out of his command chair, a moment before an energy beam seared through the air where he’d just been sitting. He hit the ground rolling and was quickly back on his feet, even as the energy beam flashed on to blow out a console on the other side of the bridge. Flames rose up and smoke billowed out. Alarms went off, too late. Unfamiliar faces were spilling onto the bridge, guns in hand, their faces twisted with hatred and loathing. Silence shot the nearest through the chest, and the energy beam punched right through him, to take out