The Admiral and the Assistant

"Ah please!" Minius cried as a dozen rifle barrels swiveled to orient on Flander. "He are harmless! He are a friend!"

Grimthorn's lips were pinched white.

"That thing is a menace and a danger on board my ship," he said. He had one hand upraised, ready to give the order to fire.

"Sir?" Kinnit asked. "Is it a robot? I've never seen one. What's wrong with it?"

"What's wrong with it is that it shouldn't exist."

For its part, Flander eased slowly out from behind Brutus, holding about half its limbs straight up in a bizarre mimicry of Minius and Brutus raising their hands.

"Stop right there!" Admiral Stonefist shouted. Flander froze.

"Sir, what's dangerous about it?" Kinnit asked.

"All independent intelligent robots have been destroyed and banned from the Imperium."

"Why?"

"Because they're killers."

"Sir?"

Grimthorn replied through clenched teeth.

"Twenty years ago, robots were common around the Imperium. Industry, the Navy, even academia used them. They were useful, stronger and faster than Terrans. Their bodies could be refactored based on the work they'd be doing." He drew in a breath through his nose. "The problem was that their programming-- their minds-- all came from a shared repository. What none of us knew at the time was that there was a latent flaw in the programming. They were learning machines, but the flaw caused a-- a kind of corruption that would inevitably drive them mad. They turned on their Terran handlers, or anybody they could get their grippers on, and-- killed them. Given their durability, each one was a challenge to stop."

"It were not all of them," Minius said quietly.

Grimthorn glared him into silence.

"All of them," he said. "Some slower than others. But eventually, they all fell to the killing madness." He turned his eyes back to the robot, his gaze flinty. "At first we thought it was due to mistreatment, or stress, or some environmental factor." He shook his head. "It was when the Nannybots turned that the Imperium decided they were all too dangerous."

"Nannybots, sir?" Kinnit asked, not wanting to believe her interpretation of the name.

"Childcare robots. It was more horrific than you can imagine."

Kinnit swallowed heavily. Minius moved to try to place his body between the Marine's rifles and the robot.

"He have never hurt me," Minius said. "All these long years, and he have never been anything but a good companion and crewmate."

"Then you've been lucky, on top of being a fool. It's not a question of if it will go crazy. It's a question of when."

Grimthorn approached Flander with slow deliberation.

"Show me your designation plate," he said. "Where do you come from?"

Flander carefully folded its many arms back. The sphere at its center rotated slowly. A small steel plate became visible on the surface. It was badly dented, and torn away in one spot. The text was barely readable.

F-------- Land--r--, it read.

"More complications," Grimthorn said with a wry twist to his lips. "You're a Frontier Landworks bot."

"Sir?" Kinnit asked.

Grimthorn took a big step back away from the robot.

"They were a terraforming and construction company during the last planet rush. They designed and built their own robots. Their robots were... stronger. Tougher." Grimthorn glared at Flander. "Less stable."

"Sir, they surrendered," Kinnit said. "The robot, too."

Grimthorn's jaw clenched.

"I've seen the security holos," he said stiffly. "You don't understand how quickly they can turn."

Kinnit laid a hand on Grimthorn's arm. He looked down at her, his face fierce. She met his gaze with her luminous eyes. His expression slowly softened very slightly.

"Very well. The robot will stand next to the bay doors. If we vent, it will be the first one sucking vacuum. The rest of the crew will stay in the docking bay while we inspect your ship."

Flander carefully moved over to the bay doors and stood still, its many arms sagging.

"He looks sad," Kinnit said.

"Don't anthropomorphize it," Grimthorn said. "It's a machine, and a dangerous one."

"It is sentient?" she asked.

He looked at her, annoyance warring with worry.

"That's a question for a philosopher, not for me," he said. Then he wheeled and marched out of the docking bay.

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"Sergeant Mentel, reporting, sir." The young Sergeant was standing in Grimthorn's office, holding a rigid salute. Kinnit sat at her desk, alert.

"At ease, Sergeant. What have your men found?"

"It's as the Captain said, sir. They appear to be a scrapping operation, nothing more."

"Any contraband? Weapons?"

"No weapons. Minor contraband. Nothing you wouldn't find an any civilian ship."

Grimthorn frowned.

"Nothing unusual whatsoever?"

The Sergeant glanced around, looking unsure.

"Speak freely, Sergeant," Grimthorn said.

"Well, sir...it's just that their ship is... well, do you know the legend of the ship of Theseus?"

"Of course. 'If you replace every part of the ship, one piece at a time, is it still the same ship?' Why do you ask?"

"Well, imagine the ship of Theseus, but instead of replacing parts, they just kind of... built more ship on top of it."

Grimthorn's brow twisted in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"We can't even tell what this thing was, originally. We know that there were at least three major expansions to the vessel. Maybe more. Apparently whenever they need more room, or another tool, they just kind of... stapled more on."

"How does something like that even hold together?"

"Poorly, sir. With all due respect, I would refuse any order for my men to board that vessel without exosuits or thinsuits or something. Half the thing doesn't even have a hull, it's just held together with shielding."

Grimthorn pulled up the scans they'd made of the Ocher Dawn.

"And they take it through jumpspace?"

"Apparently, sir."

Grimthorn shook his head.

"All right. Well what of the Arrowhead?"

"It's a ghost vessel, sir. Reactor burnout. There were no bodies on board."

Admiral Stonefist's brow wrinkled. "What kind of hull rupture is big enough and fast enough to empty out a whole ship?"

"The reactor burned through the dorsal plating. That's underneath where crew should be. There should be bodies on board, sir. Or parts. Spray. Something."

Grimthorn nodded.

"Anything from the black box?"

"We pulled the data down for full analysis. Preliminary review suggests they ran into some kind of ship with no identification. After that, the engines were running at full power with no relief on the reactor. That kept up for a couple days."

"Until the reactor failed."

"That seems likely, sir."

Grimthorn frowned in thought.

"So where are they?" he muttered. "The crew of the Arrowhead didn't just vanish."

"Maybe the full analysis of the black box will tell us more," said Sergeant Mentel in the tones of one who knows it will not, but is not ready to tell that to his boss yet.

"Hmm. I'll talk to Captain Minius again, see if we can figure out exactly where he picked up the Arrowhead."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir," Sergeant Mentel said with evident relief. He turned and marched out, happy to leave weird mysteries with the brass.

Grimthorn sighed as his office door closed behind Mentel.

"I wasn't looking for another puzzle," he grunted. "I just wanted to shoot some pirates."

"I'm sure we'll find some pirates for you to blow up here soon, sir," Kinnit said. Grimthorn peered at her, trying to figure out whether she was making fun, but she kept her expression perfectly level.

"And I have to figure out what to with these..." Grimthorn waved his hand, "these Clankers."

"Well, they're innocent, aren't they, sir? Shouldn't we let them go?"

"We don't know that they're innocent. We still don't have any information about what happened to the crew of the Arrowhead. There's no evidence that the Clankers weren't involved somehow. For all we know, the Ocher Dawn is the unknown ship the Arrowhead ran in to."

Kinnit gave him a skeptical look.

"Sir, you've seen the scans of their ship. Do you really think the Ocher Dawn could have overpowered the Arrowhead in any way?"

Grimthorn frowned.

"Even if they are innocent, I can't just let an unmonitored robot run around the Imperium. At the same time, just having that thing on my ship is a major risk that's got me more uptight than a bureaucrat under audit."

Kinnit frowned along with Grimthorn for a few minutes. Then she brightened.

"Oh, I know! What if we issued them a letter of marque?"

Grimthorn looked at her, aghast.

"Absolutely not. Why would you even suggest such a thing?"

"If they are what they say they are, they'll jump at the chance. As a sanctioned privateer, they'll need a Navy transponder. Flight and patrol plans. Regular check-ins."

"But we're the Navy," he said. Coming from anyone else, Kinnit might nearly have called it whining. "We don't hire pirates. We kill them."

Kinnit nodded as she thought about it more. "It would get them all off the Swordheart and out of our hair," she said, brushing aside his objection, "but we could keep tabs on them. Plus, as scrappers, I bet they get into all kinds of areas a Navy ship would never be able to find. They might actually come up with some useful information for us."

"That is a terrible idea and I hate it," Grimthorn said. Kinnit smiled recognizing his tone. "However," he said, and her smile became the slightest bit smug, "it may be the least bad option we have." He grimaced mightily. "Look up the paperwork. Find out what's involved."

Kinnit hummed to herself and began tapping away at her console.

Captain Minius stood in Admiral Stonefist's office. He stared at Grimthorn, aghast.

"Absolutely not," he said. "What would possess you to even suggest such a thing?"

Grimthorn kept his face carefully neutral.

"A letter of marque is a rare offer," he said. You found and retrieved a lost Navy vessel under highly unusual circumstances," Grimthorn said with something that almost sounded like sincerity. "Your abilities would be an asset to the Imperial Navy." Kinnit stood at his elbow, beaming.

"We have no arms," Minius said. "We are no combat crew."

"In this case, you wouldn't need any. Primarily, we want your eyes. Naturally, you'll receive a small stipend for your service."

Minius perked up.

"Oh? There are money for it?"

"Four hundred fifty credits per month."

Minius' eyes shone.

"Just for accepting the letter?"

"Yes. Plus you could sell any enemy vessel you capture, minus a small tax."

"I are allowed to capture vessels?"

"If they are documented enemies of the Imperium, yes. But as you say, your ship is not equipped for combat."

"There are many ways to capture a vessel," Minius said with a distracted air. He shook his head and focused. "What of Flander? What of my crew?"

"The robot would have to stay on your ship. No going downplanet. No getting on other ships."

"Flander have not been off the Ocher Dawn in decades, until today."

Grimthorn nodded. "Very well. Will you accept?"

"I... need to discuss with my crew. But I think... I do think they will want to be privateers of the Imperium."

Kinnit and Grimthorn watched the Marine shuttle carrying Minius and his crew back to the Ocher Dawn.

"I can't help but feel like this is a mistake," he said.

"It will be fine," Kinnit said. She tilted her head and looked a little wistful. "I liked Flander. He's got a sweet personality."

"What personality? He's a robot. He doesn't even talk."

"Oh, he doesn't use words, but that doesn't mean he doesn't talk."

"If you say so." His lips tightened as the shuttle docked with the Ocher Dawn. "I can live and let live. Even a robot. As long as I never have to see or hear about it ever again."