The Admiral and the Assistant

Grimthorn and Kinnit rested in their quiet nook aboard the Swordheart.

They'd settled in as usual, Grimthorn with his paper copy of Origins of the Imperium and Kinnit with her scanner loaded with space adventure stories.

Grimthorn had stared at his open book for fifteen minutes without being able to focus enough to read a single word. What sense did it make to read about the start of the Imperium as he watched over its end? The words sat like lumps on the page, meaningless to his eyes.

Kinnit had nestled under his arm, flicking through stories, unable to find one to settle on. Finally she tossed her scanner to the far end of the sofa and simply climbed fully into Grimthorn's lap.

"Well hi there," he said.

"Hold me," she replied quietly.

He smiled and set his book aside, wrapping his arms around her huddled form.

"Like this?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He gently rocked back and forth, stroking her back with his broad hand. Her breath began to hitch a little. He quietly hummed a little Kobold tune, one of the songs he'd picked up on Takkar.

They rocked like that for a bit.

"Is it really the end of the Imperium?" she asked, her voice cracking.

He kept rocking her, but his humming died out as he thought.

"I don't know," he said finally.

She whimpered and buried her face in his chest.

"I'm not ready," she said, barely audible.

"What's that?"

"I'm not ready," she repeated. She lifted her face to look at him, her tears streaming freely. "I want the Imperium to continue. I want my people to thrive. I want to have your babies. I want to grow old with you. I'm not ready for it all to be over."

He folded her in a crushing hug, laying his face on top of her head.

"Me neither," he said. "I want to protect you, to protect the Imperium. It's everything I am. But it's not enough." Hot tears stung his eyes. "I'm not strong enough to protect what's most precious to me."

Kinnit burst into sobs, clinging tightly to him.

"Why can't it be like it was before?" she wailed. "Why can't we just be together, and happy?"

Grimthorn didn't have an answer for her. So he simply held her and rocked her, and resumed humming the soothing tunes of Takkar.

The streets of Techterra were empty. The riots had finally calmed enough to allow evacuations to continue, and most of the city had emptied out. There were still a few evac shuttles in the spaceport, waiting for any stragglers, but the streets were eerily quiet except for a lone figure shuffling along a residential area.

Elias Rhade had a steel wash pan in one hand and a wrench in the other. He was making his way on foot down the bare street. Every few steps he'd stop and whack the wrench against the pan.

"Judgment!" he cried. Clang, clang. "Judgment has come to Techterra!" Clang. "Her streets are empty, her commerce halted!" Clang, clang. "All life has stopped. The music is ended, the dancing has stilled!" Clang, clang. "They are scattered! Judgment has come!"

"You makin' a awful racket," came a voice.

Elias stopped. Sitting in a rocker on the porch of one of the houses lining the street was an old man in overalls. He had fixed Elias with glare.

"Judgment!" he cried, banging his pan again.

"I heared you already," the old man said. "'Judgment' dis and 'doom' dat. Why you yellin'? Ain't nobody left to yell to."

"Flee the judgment," Elias said.

"Seem to me dat the judgment already come and gone," the old man said, peering meaningfully up and down the street.

"Flee," Elias repeated.

"I ain't fleein' nowhere. If the judgment come back, I'll be right here." The old man settled back in his rocker.

Elias' pan slipped out of his hand and fell with a clang to the street.

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"The judgment of Techterra is complete," he said, epiphany dawning in his eyes. "I must bring the next warning."

He dropped the wrench as well and began running down the street in the direction of the spaceport.

The old man harrumphed as he rocked on his porch.

"Kids these days," he muttered. "Ain't got no sense left in 'em."

The Emperor stood behind the podium in the Great Square on Olympus. The broad avenue was laid with cobbles, interspersed with mosaics depicting the great battles and historical moments of the Imperium.

He looked grim and unyielding as he stared at the assembled crowds. The blank stare of cameras dotted through the audience looked back at him. To his left, in the center of the Great Square stood a gibbet, tall and white. Ten nooses hung from the top of the gibbet, each one terminating around the throat of one of the members of the Imperial Council.

The Emperor gripped the edges of the podium and began to speak.

"Citizens of the Imperium, I am here today to bring you an apology and a message. Many of you have heard about the law which was being developed to divest citizens of their rights and citizenship. This was done without my authorization or knowledge. This proposed law is now killed and removed from the record. All citizens know this: you are secure in the arms of the Imperium. Never again will any law unjustly seek to rend citizenship from you. My apology is this, that I trusted the wrong men with the levers of power, and did not remove them when it became clear that they did not support the ideals of the Imperium. This led to the disruption we saw recently.

"The Imperium faces grave enough threats from without. She needs no threats from small men within. Let these traitors serve as a warning to those who would seek after their own power while standing against the Imperium."

He gestured to the gibbet.

"The Imperial Council is now dissolved, and I will handle matters of state directly. The traitors who proposed and pushed this law will now receive justice. They are stripped of all holdings and goods, and their names stricken from the public record. They are no longer citizens of the Imperium, but her enemies. Thus shall they be treated. So saith the Emperor."

There was a long silence. A playful breeze ruffled the hair and clothes of the crowd.

"Haec pro proditoribus," the Emperor said with finality.

With a loud clacking sound, the mechanism triggered open, and the Imperial Council was eliminated in a single stroke.

"Oh!" cried Minius. "Do be careful!"

"They can't hear you, Minius," Brutus said.

"I know, I just-- hey! That are my central girder! Why are they taking that out?"

Brutus patted Minius softly on the back, his massive hand nearly knocking the Captain over in spite of his gentleness.

"They're Navy specialists, Minius," he said. "I'm sure they know what they're doing."

The crew of the Ocher Dawn was in a small rest station in the Copper Grove sector, watching through the portal in a sitting area while the Naval technicians worked on repairing their ship. It was a small station, designed effectively as a hotel room for those whose ships were under repair.

"Now they are taking out the aft scrap array!" Minius cried. "That are not junk, it are ballast!"

Flander tapped once firmly on the deck.

"And what are that?" Minius said. "What are they strapping to my ship?"

Brutus peered carefully.

"It looks like a torpedo tube," he said finally.

"Torpedo?" Minius wailed. "What are we to do with a torpedo? The Ocher Dawn doesn't need that extra weight!"

Brutus sighed. "Come on, Captain. The food's arrived. Let's go get something to eat. Sitting here watching this is not good for your nerves."

Still protesting, Minius allowed himself to be led away to the small docking bay. A cafeteria shuttle had landed, and its hatch was open. Though cramped, it featured a small buffet and a few tables.

Brutus still had to sit on the floor outside the shuttle, but the docking bay had plenty of room for his bulk.

They loaded up and sat in a circle on the floor of the docking bay. Flander, who had no need to eat, still settled in with them.

"I did think they would just put in some new sensors, and maybe fix our comms," Minius fumed. "I did not know they would be taking my whole ship apart!"

"The Admiral did say he was concerned about the structural integrity of the Ocher Dawn," Brutus replied.

"The Dawn are fine! It have been working flawless the whole time I have been Captain!"

This outburst caused Brutus to raise his eyebrow.

"Well, mostly fine," Captain Minius amended. "Fine enough. What right do they have to mess with my ship?"

"Technically, it's a Navy ship now," Brutus said, growing a little annoyed at Minius' whining. "That's the deal you signed up for. They're fixing their ship."

Minius frowned sourly.

"Eat your food, Minius," Brutus said.

Reluctantly, and will ill grace, Minius began shoveling food into his mouth. An uncomfortable silence settled over the group.

"I will say, the Navy puts on a good spread," Brutus said, breaking the awkwardness. "And they have plenty." Rather than using a plate, Brutus had simply piled food onto his tray. He was on his third tray, and hadn't slowed down yet. Minius grunted in response.

As the meal wound down, Minius slowed his eating, staring at his plate.

"I are sorry," he said.

"What's that?"

Minius' face writhed as he struggled to put words around his feelings.

"I are sorry I dragged you two into this," he said. "I probably should have just... run away again."

"Minius, you didn't drag us into anything. We stayed on voluntarily." Flander tapped in agreement. "It's like you said earlier, what is there to run away to? Who would we sell scrap to?" Brutus shrugged. "If I'm to die and the Ocher Dawn destroyed, at least it will be while I'm standing, instead of hiding." Flander tapped again.

Minius raised his eyes.

"You feel that way too, Flander?"

Flander tapped, then scratched on the floor. Minius snorted.

"Well, I don't know about all that," he said to the robot. "That are far loftier a sentiment than ever I did feel." He quieted. "Whatever happens, I are glad we are together. I don't necessarily give a fig for the Navy, or the Imperium, or the Admiral, but you two, you are my crew." He shifted his eyes. "You are my friends. You are my galaxy. I will stand for you." He considered for a moment. "The Admiral are all right too, I guess. Regardless of what he are doing to my ship."

He set his meal things aside and stood.

"Speaking of, I want to keep an eye on what desecrations they are doing to the Dawn."

Brutus rolled his eye, but followed his Captain. The crew of the Ocher Dawn went forward to watch the repair and refit of their ship.