need? Is there not one loyal subject left to me?'
'Hell,' said Dram. 'I suppose there's always me.' He strode forward and set himself between the Throne and the rebels. 'I've always been yours, Lionstone, till death do us part. You gave me life. Gave me everything. And if my life's been a little shorter than most, it sure as hell hasn't been boring.' He grinned at Owen. 'I had a great time on Virimonde, Deathstalker. Watching your peasants run before me, striking them down and trampling them underfoot. Stamping the spilt blood into the furrowed earth, and watching the towns burn in the early-morning light. I ate your world up and spit it out, Deathstalker, and loved every minute of it. I am Dram, the Widowmaker, the undefeated. And after I've killed you and your friends, I'll lead the forces that will drive your rebellion back into the gutter, where it belongs. You never really stood a chance. You're scum, the lowest of the low, the dirt under our boots. Step forward, Deathstalker, and I'll cut your stupid head off and stick it on a pike.'
'Damn,' said Hazel. 'He makes even longer speeches than you do, Owen.'
'Not to worry,' said Owen. 'I'll soon put a stop to that.'
'No,' said Giles Deathstalker, putting a staying hand on Owen's arm as he started forward. 'This one belongs to me.' He stepped forward, and Dram fell into a warrior's crouch, sword at the ready. Giles shook his head. 'Amateur. You're not Dram, whoever you are. Dram was my son, and I trained him to be a far better swordsman than you'll ever be. I killed him, on Haden. It was necessary. When I walked in here, and saw you standing by the Throne, I knew I'd have to do it again. Killing my son almost destroyed me, but I don't think I'll have any problem killing a clone.'
Dram looked at him strangely. 'You're my
'No,' said Giles. 'You're just a clone.'
'Wait,' said Dram. 'We have to talk about this.'
'No we don't,' said Giles. 'You're not my son. You're not even human. How dare you wear my son's face?'
He aimed his disrupter and shot Dram right in the face. The energy blast tore the clone's head off his body, which crumpled slowly to the floor. Lionstone looked at Giles, shocked. He smiled coldly at her. 'What did you expect? Another duel? Another matter of honor, settled sword to sword? I've done that. This wasn't anything as clean as a killing. Just exterminating some garbage that should never have existed in the first place.'
He turned away, put up a hand to stop Owen when he moved forward to comfort him, and walked a little away, to be by himself. Lionstone sat speechlessly on her Throne, looking at the headless corpse lying at her feet. Captain Silence and Investigator Frost looked at each other.
'Looks like it's down to us, Investigator.'
'Not for the first time, Captain.'
Silence nodded to Lionstone. 'We've been through a lot of changes, Your Majesty, whether we wanted them or not, but our loyalty has never been in question. And if we kept our powers to ourselves, it was only so we could serve you better. Come on, Frost, time to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat one more time.' He smiled at Owen and Hazel. 'And we do have some unfinished business, you and I, don't we?'
'Damn right,' said Hazel, sweeping her sword back and forth before her like a cat twitching its tail.
'Daddy…' said Jenny.
'I'm sorry,' said Silence. 'But this is a matter of duty. And I've always known my duty.'
'Damn it, we don't have time for all this posing,' said Ruby Journey. 'If I wanted to watch fencing displays and grudge matches, I'd go to the Arena, so I could do it in a comfortable seat with a cold drink and a big bag of peanuts. We're supposed to be fighting a rebellion here. This is just keeping us from the more important things. Like looting. Head up, Lionstone. Giles had the right idea.'
And she raised her disrupter and opened fire on the Empress. But even as Ruby was taking aim, Stelmach shouted something incoherent and threw himself between Ruby and the Empress. He took the energy blast high on the chest. It tore away his right arm and vaporized much of the upper right side of his chest, leaving him lying twitching and moaning at the foot of the Throne. Silence and Frost were quickly there at his side, but it was clear the Security Officer was dying. He put out his remaining hand to Silence, who took it firmly in his.
'All I ever wanted… was to serve,' said Valiant Stelmach. 'To be loyal. To give my life for the Empress.'
'No one ever doubted your loyalty,' said Silence, but he was saying it to a dead man. He gently placed Stelmach's hand on his chest and patted it twice, saying good-bye.
'Pity,' said Frost. 'He was a good man, in his way.'
'I'm surprised you cared,' said Silence.
'I liked him,' said Frost. 'He was a coward, a weakling, and probably harbored rebel sympathies, but he did his best to be brave and do the right thing anyway. It's easy for us to be brave, with our training and abilities. All he had was guts. And a willingness to die for his Empress.'
'And now it's our turn,' said Silence. He got to his feet. Frost beside him, and together they took up their places before the Throne. Silence smiled once at Jenny, then nodded to Owen. 'Let's do it, Deathstalker.'
Owen stepped up to face Silence, and Hazel moved forward to face Frost. Owen hefted his sword casually. 'From what I've been hearing, Captain, you and the Investigator gained abilities similar to ours from the Madness Maze. Which means we could raise our powers, go head-to-head, reduce the Court to rubble, and kill everyone in it, and still end up in a stalemate. So what say we do this the honorable way. Just sword to sword. How does that sound to you?'
'Honorable,' said Silence. 'And what I'd expect from a Deathstalker. Besides, we've always wanted to know which of us is better with a blade, haven't we?'
'Damn right,' said Frost.
'Then let's do it,' said Hazel. 'One last fight, as humans. Before we forget how.'
And so they went forward to meet each other, the last great champions of Empire and rebellion, four good people whose differing beliefs could not be reconciled, only decided at the point of a sword. Owen and Silence circled each other slowly, their swords clashing lightly, tip to tip, as they studied each other's style for openings and vulnerabilities. Hazel and Frost went straight at each other, hacking and cutting, slamming their blades together, fueled by a rivalry that was stronger than hate or rage.
Owen and Silence stamped and lunged and recovered, both of them cold and calculating, testing their strength and skills to the limits, both trained in harsh and unforgiving schools. Their blades crashed together, sparks flying on the air, neither man prepared to give an inch or retreat a step. Their swords flew so fast the eye could barely keep up, driven by skills and reflexes almost too quick for human thought. Owen didn't boost. It never occurred to him. He wanted to win this one fairly. He was fighting for a set of ideals, his own as well as the rebellion's, and either he won fairly, or his whole life had no meaning. Silence put all his strength into every blow, all his speed into every cut and parry, and still had to struggle to match the Deathstalker's attacks. The young rebel fought as though his life no longer mattered, only the winning. Silence tried to feel that way, too. The whole Empire depended on him now. Everything he'd ever believed in and fought for. Everything that had given his life shape and meaning. But in the end, his surety wasn't as certain as Owen's, and perhaps that was why his sword was finally just that fraction slower, and Owen beat his blade aside, stepped forward, and set the point of his sword at Silence's throat. For a long moment the two men just stood there, face-to-face, breathing hard from their exertions. They looked into each other's eyes, and recognized what they saw there.
'I can't kill you,' Owen said finally. 'It would be like killing myself. Surrender, Captain. Put down your sword, and I guarantee your safety. The rebellion's going to need someone like you to help us rebuild.'
'My loyalty…'
'Is to the people of the Empire. Help us preserve the best, so we don't throw it out along with the bad.'
Captain John Silence looked back at his Empress, then around at the Hell she'd made of her Court, and slowly opened his hand and let his sword drop to the floor. It made hardly any sound. Owen lowered his blade. They nodded respectfully to each other, then turned to look at Hazel d'Ark and Investigator Frost. They'd dueled each other to a standstill, standing face-to-face, breathing hard and harsh, swords shaking in their exhausted hands. Their eyes were as fierce as ever, but they had driven themselves beyond strength or stamina, and they were both too proud to draw on their unnatural strength and skills.
'Give it up, Hazel,' said Owen. 'You're never going to win, either of you. And neither of you is ever going to yield. You're too alike. Call it a day, and let's get on with what we came here for.'
Hazel considered it, frowning thoughtfully as sweat dripped off her face. 'What the hell,' she said finally. 'We
