The Admiral and the Assistant

The small party gathered in the hallway outside the docking bay on board the ISS Swordheart. Admiral Stonefist gazed through the portal, patiently waiting for the return of the Marine shuttle, Kinnit by his side. Elias stood nearby, mute and wide-eyed.

Captain Minius and Brutus waited with them as well. In Elias, Minius had found the perfect conversational partner; willing to listen to Minius' endless chatter while providing minimal response.

"...and that is how I did retrofit the Oryndrax engine to use as a cutting torch," Minius concluded. "We have been using it to get more scrap than ever we did before."

A blessed moment of silence descended on the conversation as Minius finished his story. He was uncomfortable with the lack of words, but he'd been rattling on about the exploits of the Clankers for thirty minutes and had briefly run dry.

In an unusual fit of curiosity, he asked, "And you, Mr. Elias? What do you do?"

Elias looked pinned by the question. His eyes darted.

"I bring the warning," he said quietly. "But there is no warning any more." His expression softened, and some of the fear drained from his eyes. "There is no warning any more." He looked like a man testing a sore tooth that had recently been fixed: flinching in anticipation of pain but relieved by the lack thereof. "No more warnings."

"So what will you do now?"

Elias' expression opened like a flower facing the sun.

"I... I don't know." A slow, euphoric smile crossed his face. "I don't know the future any more." He let out a breath of relief. "I don't know," he said with immense satisfaction.

"Ah, so you are between jobs, then," Minius said, slapping him on his back. "Tell, have you ever considered a career in space scrapping?"

Elias stumbled under the friendly blow.

"Scrapping?" he said uncertainly.

"I have been decommissioned from the Navy, but I do still have a privateer license," Minius boasted expansively. "Now that all this business with the Feeders are cleared up, I can get back to gathering good scrap. We have been needing a new crew member. Think on it."

Elias looked thoughtful. "Scrapping," he repeated.

"Shuttle inbound," Grimthorn said. They clustered at the door and watched as the fat Marine shuttle wallowed into the docking bay and settled on the deck. After a couple short minutes, the docking bay was repressurized and the door opened. Everyone walked in.

The hatch on the Marine shuttle irised open, and a troop of Marines marched out and formed two lines, one on either side of the hatch.

Flander peeked hesitantly out of the hatch.

Admiral Stonefist and Kinnit and all the Marines saluted sharply. Minius followed after only a small delay, and Elias, not wanting to stand out, saluted clumsily as well.

"The ISS Swordheart welcomes a hero of the Imperium!" Admiral Stonefist barked. "All hail the Imperium!"

"All hail!" cried the Marines lustily.

Flander slowly emerged. He carefully debarked, and performed an action with his many arms that was probably meant to be a salute.

Admiral Stonefist ripped his salute and marched up to Flander.

"Welcome aboard," he said.

A quad of Marines followed Flander out of the shuttle, shuffling with effort as they carried a long, heavy canister. They were followed out by Sergeant Mentel.

"What gift have you brought us, Flander?" Admiral Stonefist asked.

The Marines set the chest down and saluted.

"One of the Feeders, Admiral," said Sergeant Mentel.

Grimthorn stiffened.

"How sure are you that it's dead?" he asked.

It spent a week in hard vacuum, sir. It's as dead as they come. We also might have shot it in the head a couple times, sir. Accidentally, of course."

"Of course." Grimthorn frowned. "Did the scientists ask you to bring this body out?"

"Ah, no sir," Mentel said. "The robot did."

Grimthorn's eyebrows rose.

"You can talk to Flander?"

"We plugged him into the comms console on the shuttle, so he could type out messages. He said this one was special. Said he found traces of Terran DNA in it. He thinks that some Terran was working with the Feeders. Was, uh, turning into a Feeder, somehow."

Admiral Stonefist' mouth nearly disappeared in a thin line.

"Is that so?" He drew in a breath through his nose. "Well. Those scientists on Takkar are upset that I took some of their toys away. This will give them something to work on." He glared at the chest. "I definitely want to know all about who this was and everything that they did. And every person they ever knew."

Grimthorn was staring holes in the canister. Flander deferentially moved into view.

"Flander," Grimthorn said. "The Imperium owes you a great debt. Is there anything we can provide, any service that you would desire?"

The robot stood still for a moment in thought, then tapped quietly on the deck twice. Grimthorn frowned.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "We have many resources. Your self-control is unique. The Imperium may be ready for robots again. Perhaps we could get some of our Infographers to take a look deep into your programming, see if we can understand what's happened--"

Flander recoiled and tapped on the deck twice, quickly.

"Sir," Kinnit said, laying a hand on his arm. "I think Flander would like to rejoin his crew."

Grimthorn nodded.

"Of course." He waved for Captain Minius to come over. "Thank you, Flander," Grimthorn said as Minius approached. He smiled at the robot. "You're getting a medal this time, whether you want one or not."

Flander tapped once on the deck. Minius marched up beside the Admiral. He glared at the robot and set his hands on his hips.

"Flander! You did depart the Ocher Dawn without leave! That are a court-martial-able offense! What have you to say for yourself?"

Flander paused briefly, then gave a hundred-armed shrug.

"Well, since you did save the Imperium, we'll let it slide this time. But do not do it again."

Flander tapped once on the deck. Minius' eyes moistened.

"Do not do that again," he said, more quietly. "I do not have so many crew that I can afford to lose any. Nor friends."

Brutus stepped up from behind Minius and grabbed Flander up in a big, crunchy hug. Flander's arms flailed in the grip of the massive Molgar.

"I'm sorry, Flander," Brutus said. "When you left, I didn't realize what you were trying to do." His eyes had a haunted look. "When I realized... you were gone, I..." A giant, fat tear filled Brutus' eye."

"You did not do anything bad on that boneship did you?" Minius asked as Brutus set the robot gingerly down. "Nothing that would mess up your programming?"

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There was a long pause, then Minius tapped twice on the deck.

"Ah, good, then the crew are still safe from your murderous ways."

Flander tapped twice again. Minius roared with laughter.

"Good old Flander! Well, I thank you Admiral, for fetching my wayward crew."

"Of course, Captain."

Minius led the way back onto the shuttle.

"Come, Clankers! Back to the Ocher Dawn! Let's go find us some scrap!" He stopped and turned back. "Mr. Elias, will you join us?"

Elias Rhade looked uncertainly between the crew. He responded slowly.

"I... I think... maybe I will." He followed Minius to the shuttle, but paused. "Do... you think we could stop by Velonia at some point? There's someone there I'd like to check on."

Minius erupted with his loud laugh and threw an arm around Elias' shoulders.

"Friend, we are scrappers! We go anywhere in the galaxy we want!"

Laughing and chatting, Minius boarded the shuttle with all his crew.

A slice of the boneship hurtled through jumpspace, a clean arc that had been cut out of realspace and hurled into the gap between this world and the next.

Unreality sleeted through the structure. Dimensions shifted moment to moment, direction had no meaning, and even speed was a measurement that had no single value here.

The slice tumbled and spun, inasmuch as that was a possibility in jumpspace: no structure, no destination and no escape.

Within the slice, a contingent of Feeders remained, bathed in the unreality of pure chaos.

They clung to their struts and shrieked in endless terror as their vessel hurtled through the boundless planes of hysteria.

Grimthorn and Kinnit sat on the bench in the high hall, waiting for their call.

"Well," Kinnit said brightly, "here we are, back in the Emperor's butt." She giggled.

"Kinnit," he said warningly. But an indulgent smile creased his face.

"What do you think the Emperor wants to talk about?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. Congratulations of some kind, I'd assume. Though the Emperor doesn't seem to be one to spend much time on such sentimental things. Maybe the disposition of the Feeders. Who knows?"

"The Emperor will now grant audience to Admiral Grimthorn Stonefist and Assistant Kinnit Longlegs Stonefist," cried a liveried official, gesturing them toward the throne room.

"I guess we'll find out," Grimthorn finished.

They made their way into the throne room, and stopped on the red carpet before the throne.

"We request to enter the Emperor's presence," they said in unison.

"Forget that, forget all that," said the Emperor as he bustled down the stairs. A tall Cryptographer followed him. "Come, let's talk." He guided them back to one of the conference rooms where they settled themselves.

"First of all, congratulations on saving the Imperium," the Emperor said. "Again. Good show and all that. Medals for everyone, we're very happy."

"Thank you, Dass--I mean, your Imperial Majesty," Grimthorn said uncertainly.

The Emperor scrubbed a hand through his hair.

"Arg. This is going to be super-awkward, isn't it? I'm starting to understand why the Emperor's origin is kept secret. It's not for security, it's so that this kind of clumsy conversation never has to happen." He sighed. "In private, you can call me Dass, if that helps. Even though I'm not just Dass any more."

Grimthorn and Kinnit shared a look. Kinnit cleared her throat.

"What would you like to be called?" she asked.

The Emperor sighed.

"It's probably easiest all around if we just stick with 'the Emperor.' It'll avoid confusion and problems."

"Very well, your Imperial Majesty," Grimthorn said.

"Right. Anyway, I also wanted to talk with you guys about the Cryptographers."

"Oh? Will they be coming back now that the Feeders have been defeated?"

The Emperor winced.

"I wish. They're actually accelerating their departure."

"Oh no! Why?"

"Well, it's hard to explain. Mostly, they feel that their work here is done. They finished their puzzle. They're quite upset at you two, actually."

"Us?" Kinnit asked. "Why are they angry?"

"Oh, they're not angry, really. Just annoyed. They had all these great predictions lined out about how the Imperium was going to be destroyed, and you two just kinda messed it all up. You, uh, kind of ruined their moment."

"But... we won?" Kinnit said.

"Oh, sure, but you didn't do the way they had set up. And then when the Feeders were accelerated by the Aberrant, you didn't, you know, lose. Which ran counter to their expected outcome."

Grimthorn's brow drew down.

"So they wanted us to lose? To be destroyed by the Feeders?"

"No, not at all. They're quite satisfied that the Feeders have been removed. But their Solution only ever had the two possible outcomes. When the Solution was broken, they didn't think there was another path forward." The Emperor waved his hands around. "They're not upset that you won, but they didn't expect you to win. You broke their puzzle, basically."

Grimthorn sat back, frowning.

"I'd do it again, to save the Imperium," he said.

"Sure, hang on to that. Saving the Imperium. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that most of the Cryptographers are leaving. A few will stay here in the Sedes. For counsel and, uh, succession, if you will. Maybe even just one Cryptographer. They haven't really said, yet. I think some of them still find me interesting."

"I understand, your Imperial Majesty. I think."

The Emperor smiled.

"Well, and they wanted to talk with you two before they go."

Grimthorn stiffened and cut his eyes over to Kinnit.

"Is that really necessary, your Imperial Majesty?"

Kinnit laid her hand on his arm.

"It's fine, Grimthorn. I'll be fine." She turned to the Emperor. "We'll be happy to speak with them."

"Very well," the Emperor said, carefully avoiding Grimthorn's glower. He tapped a code on his scanner, and in a minute the tall Cryptographer stepped into the room, stooping to get through the door.

The psychic oppression of its presence suppressed the jolly atmosphere. Kinnit shrank in her seat as fear washed over her, but she clung to the arms of the chair and forced a small smile onto her face.

"We... are... departing," it said.

"I've heard," Grimthorn replied. "The Imperium will be sorry to see you go."

"One... will... remain. The... last... Cryptographer," it replied. "We... will... pass... into... legend."

"Where will you go?" Kinnit managed to squeak. The eldritch creature turned its bleak gaze on her.

"We... return... to... Wayspace. Our... next... Solution... is... stranger... still."

The Cryptographer's impassive stare turned to Kinnit. "You... have... given... us... many... more... variables... to... consider," it said.

"Oh. That's good, I guess?"

"We... have... seen... countless... worlds. Untold... species. Vast... experiences." The Cryptographer leaned over Kinnit, looming. "Never... before... have... we... been... hugged."

"I'm sorry? Was that a rude thing I did?"

The Cryptographer stood back up.

"It... was... unexpected," it said. Then it glided to the exit and stepped out of the room.

"I don't know whether they liked that or not," Kinnit said, recovering from the presence of the Cryptographer.

"I don't think they know either," said the Emperor.

A group of grizzled old men sat around a table at a bar on a planet at the edge of the galaxy.

"I did hear old Dorn filled his ship front to back with rations," one of them said. "Said he was going to head outside of the galaxy."

"Stupid," said another. "Can't get out of the galaxy. Not in a scrapper's ship like that."

"Oh, that's just old Dorn's way. You know how he talks." The man leaned his chair back. "I actually heard lots of old-timers were loading up and planning to live between the stars until these Feeders were done."

"Fools," came the reply. "No sense in panicking like that. Of course the Feeders weren't never going to get any further."

The oldest member of the table, a grizzled man with a gleaming eye, leaned forward and spoke.

"Oh, they knocked the Navy back on their heels, right enough," he said. "Turr'ble blow, that. Turr'ble. But they dusted off old Admiral Stonefist, put him in the fight, and those Feeders didn't stand a chance."

A chorus of assent ringed the table.

"Ah, Admiral Stonefist."

"Of course."

"Fine Navy man."

"Aye. Should have done that to start." The old man raised his glass. "I'm pleased aright to be back to scrapping without those Feeders at the back of my neck. All hail the Imperium, and all hail Admiral Stonefist, says I!"

"All hail!" responded the table. And they drank deeply in honor of Admiral Grimthorn Stonefist.

Deep below the surface of Techterra was a protective cell. The walls were soft, spongy, covered with a layer of foam designed to prevent injury to the occupant.

Propped in the corner sat Sehren Senn, the author of all the galaxy's recent woes.

He was unshaven and unkempt, with wild hair and a wild expression. His eyes were haggard, unfocused, staring out at nothing.

"They're going to eat us," he moaned. "They're coming. Herin stole them from me and now they're going to eat us. He stole the transmitter. It was mine!" He surged to his feet. "It was my plan! I found them!" He collapsed back to the floor, tears streaming. "Mine. My Feeders. They'll come for me. I know they'll come back for me. They're going to eat us."

He repeated his nonsense phrases over and over, locked in his own mind, as he would remain for the rest of his life.

Grimthorn and Kinnit sat on the sofa in their nook, staring through the portal at the stars.

"Is there peace now?" Kinnit asked.

"Mostly," Grimthorn replied. "There's been some discussion about expanding into another galaxy. Now that the Feeders aren't suppressing other species, we should be able to find them, help them, and grow the Imperium."

"Mmm. That will be nice." She snuggled under his arm. "Have you been hearing the latest songs from Takkar?" She smiled at him. "They're singing the story of the third moon."

"Oh? Who are they blaming for that?"

"Minius Moonmaker," she said with a giggle. "And Flander, his loyal sidekick. Except in the stories, Minius is a bumbler, and Flander is the one always getting them out of trouble."

"Sounds pretty accurate to me."

Her expression turned serious.

"I wonder how long that boneship will last without power. I have to think it will collapse on itself at some point."

"Probably. The scientists out there could probably tell you."

"Are they really going to build that new Imperial Science Center on Takkar?"

"Mmhmm. Probably. They'll want to get every bit of knowledge they can out of that boneship. Especially their FTL drive." He paused, reflecting. "It will probably bring a lot of investment and development to Takkar."

"Well they better not mess up our caves," she said with a fierce frown. "Or get in the way. Takkar is still our home."

"We'll make sure of it," Grimthorn said distractedly, rubbing her arm.

"Grimthorn? What are you thinking about?"

He smiled down at her.

"Sorry. I was thinking about the end of all this conflict." His eyes grew wistful. "We've gone through all the hardship of taking the Imperium through this crisis, and now we can start doing all the things we've talked about. Take that trip out to Hyrethia. Try another cruise." He cleared his throat. "Maybe look at starting a family."

She squealed and pummeled him.

"Oh, Grimthorn! Could we really?"

"Well, the med boys don't seem to think it would be a problem..."

"You know what I mean!" She turned her luminous eyes up to him. "Would you make a family with me?"

He lifted her chin and leaned forward.

"Nothing would make me happier," he said, "than to make a family with the light of my heart. I love you, Kinnit."

"And I love you Grimthorn," she replied breathily.

They met in a kiss as the galaxy swirled around them, finally at peace.