Deathstalker

'Do we have an identification on her yet?'

'Not yet. Captain. Their AI is talking our ears off, but not actually saying much. It's trying to feed us some nonsense about being a medical ship on a mercy mission, but it's the wrong kind of craft for that, and it doesn't have the proper identification codes. Odds are they're just trying to keep us occupied while they power up for a hyper jump. Do we stop them. Captain, or let them go?'

'We stop them,' said a calm, cold voice, and Silence nodded to Investigator Frost as she came to stand beside him. Frost was in her late twenties, tall and lithely muscular, with a gun on her hip and a long sword hanging down her back. Even standing still she looked competent and extremely dangerous, like a predator in a world of prey. Dark eyes burned coldly in a pale, controlled face, framed by auburn hair cropped close to the skull. You couldn't call her pretty, but there was a daunting glamour to her, attractive and intimidating at the same moment.

Investigators were trained from childhood to be loyal, efficient and deadly. Their job was to study newly discovered alien species and determine how much of a threat they might prove to the Empire. Depending on those findings, the aliens would then be either enslaved or exterminated. There was no third option. Investigators were also used as security chiefs, bodyguards, and assassins. They were cold, calculating killing machines, and they were either good at their job, or dead.

Silence and Frost had worked together on several missions and understood each other. Which was as close to friendship as you could get with an Investigator.

'There's no hurry,' said Silence. 'A ship that small takes forever to power up. They're not going anywhere yet.'

'I don't like it,' Frost said flatly. 'An unexpected ship in orbit, waiting for us? I don't believe in coincidence. Someone has alerted our target that he's been outlawed. That ship is either here to protect him or carry him away. Either way, our orders are quite specific. Under no circumstances is the target to be allowed to escape.'

Silence nodded. The outlaw was only ever referred to as the target in public. It wouldn't do for the lower orders to know that a Lord had been outlawed. Especially one with such a famous name. The name Deathstalker could still command respect and possibly allies in certain quarters, irrespective of the Empress' wishes or orders. Which was why an entire starcruiser had been sent to see that the Deathstalker's outlawing went smoothly. He was to be captured and executed before word could get out to potential friends. Only it seemed someone had beaten them to it.

'The ship could have been sent to occupy our attention while the target is helped to escape,' said Frost. 'We can't afford to waste time on it. With your permission, I'll form a boarding party and get some answers in person.'

'Not so fast, Investigator. Let's do this by the book. Esper Fortuna?'

'Yes, Captain.' The Darkwind's esper, Thomas Fortuna, stepped forward to stand on the Captain's other side, opposite the Investigator. He was short, dumpy, and his uniform looked as though he'd inherited it from someone larger. His shaven head glistened brightly.

'I want a full scan on that ship,' said Silence. 'See what you can pick up.'

'Yes, Captain.' Fortuna's mind leapt up and out, and his face relaxed completely, losing all trace of life and personality. Then his face twisted, and he was back again, shaking his head disgustedly. 'That ship is full of death and the memory of pain. So many traces I can't even identify the sources, except to say they're all human, and all dead. There are body banks on that ship, Captain, brimming over with the residues of suffering. They're cloneleggers.'

'Nothing to do with the target?' said Silence. 'You're sure?'

'As far as I can be. Captain.'

'That settles it then,' said Frost easily. 'We can't waste time over a handful of bodysnatchers. Blow the ship to pieces. The universe will smell better once they're gone.'

'Couldn't agree more,' said Silence. 'Go ahead. Investigator. Enjoy yourself.'

The pirate ship Shard rocked as the Darkwind opened fire on her. Hannah got the force screens up in time, deflecting the raging energy from the disrupter cannon, but it was all the Al could do to maintain them under the constant barrage from the Empire ship. Hazel d'Ark fired back, but her two cannon made no impression on the Darkwind's superior shields. Lights went out all over the Shard as the AI drained more and more energy from the ship's systems to maintain the force screens. The power accumulated for a hyper jump was used up in seconds, and one by one the body banks shut down, their fragile contents left to warm and rot. The Shard jerked this way and that, like a fish on a hook, running through every evasive maneuver in the AI's data banks, but the Darkwind stayed with them, the disrupter cannon firing one after another to maintain a constant pressure.

Hazel shuddered at her fire controls, feeling every hammering blow on the Shard's shields through her mental link to the computers. She pounded impatiently on the arms of her chair as she waited the three agonizing minutes it took tor her antiquated disrupter cannon to power up between shots. The Darkwind didn't have that problem. She fired her disrupters in overlapping waves, so that each cannon had time to recharge before it had to fire again. The Empire ship also had far greater resources of power to drawn on. The Shard didn't stand a chance, and everyone knew it.

Light dimmed on the Shard's bridge as fires broke out in a dozen places. Smoke formed faster than the extractor fans could deal with it. Hazel coughed raggedly as she tried to concentrate on the fire controls. The station next to hers exploded, the man sitting there suddenly engulfed in flames. He screamed shrilly till the air in his lungs burned up. The AI was gabbling incoherently in Hazel's ears, its voice breaking up as it struggled to hold the disintegrating ship together. She spun round in her seat and glared across the smoke-filled bridge at Captain Markee.

'Surrender, damn it! They're tearing us apart!'

'No point,' said the Captain calmly, raising his voice to be heard over the growing bedlam on the bridge. 'They must know we're cloneleggers. They're not interested in our surrender. We can't fight, we can't run, and we haven't a hope in hell of raising enough power to go hyper. That only leaves one option. I'm going to use Lover Boy on their shields and then ram the bastards. If I'm going down, I'm taking them with me.'

Hazel's fire control exploded, throwing her out and across the bridge. She landed hard, driving the breath from her lungs, her uniform blackened and scorched. She was badly burned, but for the moment, shock smothered most of the pain. She rolled slowly onto her side, fighting to stay conscious. She could hear Markee giving orders in a calm, reasonable voice. Lover Boy. Hazel clung to the thought as she forced herself up onto her knees. Lover Boy was an experimental program the Captain had acquire on Brahmin II. It was called Lover Boy because love laughs at locksmiths, and because the program was designed to give another ship's security systems a real good screwing. The Captain was going to use Lover Boy to get the Darkwind to drop her force shields, and then ram her. The Shard would hit like a single huge torpedo, and that would be the end of the Darkwind. And the Shard.

Hazel lurched to her feet, grabbed the nearest station to steady herself, and glared through the smoke and flames at Captain Markee.

'Are you crazy? We'll all be killed!'

He didn't answer her. His gaze was fixed on his computer displays, and he was laughing. Hazel looked wildly round for help, only to find she and Markee were the only living crew left on the bridge. The rest were dead at their stations. Hazel staggered away from the bridge, stumbling through the smoke and wreckage. If she was quick, she could still get to an escape pod before the two ships hit. And if she was really lucky, the escape pod would still be working.

The corridor lurched back and forth as Hazel forced herself into a run. Adrenaline was putting strength back into her legs, but she knew that wouldn't last long. Solid steel creaked and groaned around her as the ship began to break up. Markee had to be directing most of the Shard's remaining power into the force shields, but some of the punishment was getting through anyway. The lights were going out, one by one. Hazel tried to contact Hannah through her comm implant, but the AI was still talking gibberish, mumbling to itself in a querulous voice.

Hazel rounded a corner and then stumbled to a halt. One of the bulkheads had been blown inward, blocking the corridor completely. Spikes of jagged metal thrust out in all directions, some of it still glowing cherry-red from