Free Deathstalker Rebellion by Simon R. Green

quiet, fuming figure at his side. “This is Hazel d’Ark,” he said quickly. “I’m sure you’ve heard of her, too.”
    Storm smiled at her dazzlingly. “Of course. The rebellion can always use another canny fighter. Tell me, Owen, how is Jack Random these days? Last I’d heard, he’d taken a hell of a beating at the Empire’s hands.”
    “He’s … better than he was,” Owen said carefully. “Try not to look too shocked when you see him. He’s been through a lot.”
    “Are we going to stand around here chatting all day?” said Hazel ominously. “Or is someone going to check whether the program’s finished running yet?”
    The barricade filling the top of the stairs shifted suddenly, as someone underneath tried to move it, but it just settled itself more comfortably. And then an energy beam tore right through the mass of equipment, scattering fragments of molten metal in the air. The rebels ducked back and covered their heads with their arms. The security forces began dismantling what was left of the barricade.
    “Let’s save the official getting-to-know-each-other session for a better time,” said Owen hastily. “I’ll check the program. You shoot at anything that moves till I get back.”
    He sprinted down the corridor and into the computer room, and saw with relief that the program discs had finished their task and ejected themselves. He grabbed them, pressed the attached self-destruct, and watched with satisfaction as the discs were consumed in smoke flames. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and dropped the burning discs to the floor. Now, even if he or any of the rebels were to be captured, there would still be no way the Empire could reconstruct what the program had been. He ran back to the stairwell, where Hazel was spraying the disappearing barricade with bullets, to no obvious effect.
    “Time to go,” Owen said briskly. “The program’s taken care of, and we have more than outstayed our welcome. Grab anything that’s yours or might be useful, and head for the roof. There are gravity sleds waiting there.”
    “We can use the elevator,” said Storm. “The cyberats have control of it.”
    “We’ll use the stairs,” said Hazel. “The cyberats’ commands could get overridden, and it’d be a damn silly way to get trapped.”
    She headed for the stairs, without looking back to see if the others were following. Storm raised an eyebrow at Owen, as though surprised he wasn’t taking charge. He was the hope of humanity, after all. Owen shrugged sheepishly and hurried after Hazel. Storm and the Stevie Blues followed behind. Owen kept his gun trained ahead of him, just in case, but there was no one lying in wait on the stairs, and they reached the top floor without incident. The gravity sleds were waiting where they’d been left, for which Owen was very grateful. This would not be a good time to have to walk home. Hazel was already aboard her sled and powering it up. Owen took Storm on his sled, while the three clones insisted upon crowding onto Hazel’s.
    The two sleds rose into the air and headed for the shattered windows they’d originally entered by. Energy beams stabbed the air around them as Dram and his people burst into the top floor, firing wildly. Owen and Hazel pushed the gravity sleds to full speed and shot away between the pastel towers, dodging and diving erratically to throw off the guards’ aim. The sleds had force shields, but the power needed to sustain them would quickly drain the sleds’ energy crystals of power they needed more urgently for speed. The Stevie Blues hung on grimly to the bucking gravity sled and fired back at their attackers. More guards appeared at the windows of other towers and opened fire on the sleds. Dram must have got the word out. Owen and Hazel darted in and out of the towers, fighting updrafts and dodging unexpected protrusions, and the energy beams came at them from every side.
    A disrupter beam hit the front of Owen’s sled a glancing