Deathstalker 03 - Deathstalker War

Investigator, trained since childhood to be the perfect killing machine in the Empire's interests. Kit SummerIsle, Kid Death, was a natural-born psychopath, with a
    genius for swordplay and slaughter, who had killed his whole Family just for the fun of it. Two men who had taken Death as their mistress, and knew nothing of quarter or mercy. And in the end talent won out over training, as Kit dared Razor into a corps a corps, smiled at him over the crossed swords, then stuck a dagger in Razor's ribs with his other hand. Razor looked startled for a moment, as though he couldn't believe it was happening, then he fell to his knees as the strength suddenly went out of his legs. Kit knelt down with him and pushed the dagger in a little deeper. Razor dropped his sword. He met Kid Death's eyes unflinchingly and even managed a sneer.
    "You only beat me because I'm old and slow, boy."
    "No," said Kit. "I beat you because you still cared whether you lived or died.
    And I never have. Now shut up and die. I have business to be about."
    He pushed the dagger in one more inch, and the light went out of Razor's eyes.
    He fell backwards and lay still. Kit waited a moment, to hear the last dying breath go out of his enerriy, and then he smiled briefly, took back his dagger, and got to his feet. He nodded to Owen.
    "The Empire killed David. Not me. He was the only friend I ever had. Guess I'm back in the rebellion again."
    "What makes you think we want a lunatic like you?" said Jenny.
    Kit raised an eyebrow. "Hark who's talking. No, they'll take me back. You'll always need someone like me. Someone to do the dirty jobs no one else wants to do. I don't care. I'm a killer. I go where the killing is."
    One of Lionstone's hands rose slowly to tangle its fingers in her hair, pulling loose long curls of pale blond strands. Her eyes were wild and staring, her mouth a flat thin line. "Will no one defend the Empress in her hour of 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 father! I never knew. Lionstone never
    told me. I never knew I had a Family. You mean I'm a Deathstalker, too?"
    "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