Deathstalker 05 - Deathstalker Destiny

out as though to take Owen in his arms. And then he saw the look in his son's eyes, and slowly lowered his arms without touching him.
    "If I did do that, Owen, and you must remember I haven't even considered it yet, then I probably ordered it done for the same reason my father had it done to me; because you needed the boost for your own protection. Just by being born a Deathstalker, you inherited many enemies. They would have had you killed in a moment, if they sensed weakness in you. I knew I might die with my work unfinished; you had to be able to survive, to carry on. And here you are now, a man grown into a warrior. Can you honestly say you'd be here, if you hadn't had the boost?"
    "What about the deals you made?" said Owen. "With the Hadenmen and the Blood Runners, promising them their tithes of Humanity, in return for their support?"
    "The rebellion needed them," said Arthur calmly. "I had to promise what it took to close the deal. I always hoped that when the original Deathstalker finally appeared, he'd find some way to break the deals. Certainly I never intended we should actually pay the tithes, even if it meant another war. I'm a politician, Owen, not a monster."
    "No, I never really thought you were a monster. You were my father."
    "Then why did you bring me here, Owen?"
    "Because… because I never got to say goodbye." Owen's eyes blurred with hot tears. "I missed you, Dad. I never thought I would, but I did. And I wanted you to know… I won the rebellion for you. I wanted you to be proud of me."
    "I was always proud of you, Owen. You're my son. And I'm glad I got the chance
    to see what a fine man you grew into."
    This time, they hugged each other tightly. Two Deathstalkers, finding peace together at last. Eventually they broke apart.
    "Why didn't you bring your mother here too?" said Arthur. "She'd have liked to see you too, I'm sure…" And then he saw the look in Owen's eyes. "Oh God. She dies young."
    "I barely remember her," said Owen. "It was an illness. Very sudden. You never talked much about her, to me."
    "Damn. Damn." Arthur looked away for a moment. "Perhaps it's best I don't remember any of this after all. I think it's time you sent me home, Owen. Back to my own Time." He looked back at Owen. "But I'm glad we had this chance to talk. I missed my father terribly after he was gone, killed in that stupid duel.
    I never got to say goodbye either. But I'm sure he would have been proud of you as I am. Goodbye, Owen. My son."
    And then he was gone, or Owen let him go, and Arthur Deathstalker plunged back through the years to his own Time; perhaps to remember, perhaps not.
    Owen stood quietly for a long moment, remembering many things, and then let go his hold on Time. He disappeared, carrying the appearance of the baby with him, and high above the world the Recreated screamed in frustrated rage.

    The Sunstrider was barely maintaining its orbit now, the last of its shields barely strong enough to turn aside the never-ending attacks. There were gaping holes in stem and stern, punctures in the outer and inner hulls, and only the invading vacuum kept the fires from raging out of control.
    The control panels were a mess. Most of the guns were gone now, destroyed, shot away, and the few remaining were being controlled through a single isolated
    weapon control system. Fires burned sullenly on the bridge, adding to the hellish red glow of emergency lighting. Hazel was burned and bleeding from a dozen wounds, her flesh torn over and over again by exploding systems, but she still stood straight, all her thoughts in the remaining guns. She'd always known she'd die alone, striking out at her enemies to the last.
    The Dauntless was being torn apart by repeated inner explosions, its rear assembly shattered and leaking air. Internal seals maintained pressure and life support in some parts of the ship, but they were few and scattered now, and one by one the guns were falling silent as they were destroyed, or ran out of crew to man them. The shields were going down all over the ship.
    On the bridge. Captain Silence could feel his ship dying about him. But still he maintained calm and discipline through his own example, though half the bridge crew were dead, and fires burned in the guts of devastated workstations. Bodies lay everywhere, and no one had the time or the strength to do anything about them. Silence kept his ship heading into the face of the Enemy; drawing their onslaught and defying them to do their