The Admiral and the Assistant

Grimthorn and Kinnit's reception was simple. A spread of finger foods, a variety of punches, and many confections graced the tables under the green canopy and spreading petals of Letri Prime. Guests chatted and nibbled on the food and congratulated the couple. The Kobolds in attendance were getting a little rowdy, but they'd behaved so well during the ceremony, except for stealing all the decorative bows off the chairs. Kinnit was relieved it had gone so well. She'd had a lot of worries about her relatives.

She marveled at the cake. It crowned the table it sat on, a multi-tiered construct of of sugar and frosting. It was grand and tall, white with bright yellow and red flowers.

She interrupted Grimthorn, who was once again thanking Admiral Balia for officiating.

"It's time for the cake," she said.

He smiled.

"Of course." He broke away from Balia.

Kinnit grew a little pensive.

"I wish Dass could have been here," she said.

"He's still undergoing treatment," Grimthorn said. "From the way he was talking, it will probably take the rest of our natural lives. Still, it was kind of the Emperor to find a way to help heal him."

"I hope he's doing well," Kinnit said.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Grimthorn replied.

They cut the cake with a long, ceremonial blade. He pulled a small piece out and fed it to her gently. She, likewise, gave him a generous bite. He chuckled, his mouth overfull, as he worked to eat without making a mess on his uniform.

"Sorry!" she said.

He waved to her and finally cleared his mouth.

"It's fine. My mouth's not quite that big."

They laughed. The Kobolds laughed. They were getting louder. The guests applauded.

"So," she said, a sly smile on her face. "Where are we going for our honeymoon?"

"You'll see," he said, taking a more appropriately-sized bite of the cake. "It's a surprise."

"Ooh, that's no fair!"

He shrugged.

"I don't recall seeing fairness on the list of requirements for the wedding," he said. "You'll find out soon enough."

Kinnit stuck her tongue out at him, but had to straighten up quickly as more guests came up to congratulate them.

After getting through the chit-chat, they walked over to the punch table, talking and laughing. Lucy, who'd been standing there, gave them a strangely innocent smile and sidled away. The Kobolds were in full celebration mode, laughing and dancing and rolling around, under tables and into other guests. Kinnit's smile became a little fixed. It was an exciting event, to be sure, but she'd asked her family-- quite strictly-- to keep things toned down. She was anxious to make a good impression at her wedding, and the last thing she needed was a bunch of her relatives going full Kobold at the reception.

She and Grimthorn each got a small cup of punch. Kinnit raised the drink to her lips and froze. A faint, familiar smell rose from the punch. She looked in horror at the cup in her hand, then at her family.

The Kobolds had come together, had begun collecting in a Clamber. They were hooting and flailing, knocking over chairs and some of the slower guests.

"Grimthorn," she hissed, "does this punch have Terran alcohol in it?"

He took a sip and nodded.

"A little," he said.

"It wasn't supposed to!" she said, panicking. "How did Terran alcohol get in the punch?" She looked at the increasingly rowdy crowd of Kobolds. "And how much did they all drink?"

"Yeah, let's party!" yelled Lucy from the edge of the crowd.

"They're making a Clamber," Kinnit said, aghast. "Oh no! What will everyone think?"

People were looking at the pile of swarming Kobolds and muttering.

"I'll handle this," Grimthorn said.

He strode over to the pile of slightly sauced Kobolds. They stilled as he approached, speaking in hushed tones.

"It is the Grimthornstonefist!"

"Stormfighter!"

"Trizzi," Grimthorn said by way of greeting. "Krund. Vekk. Good to see you all again. You're looking well."

"Is this how you become Kinnit's Ulther?" one of them yelled. "We usually just bring a flower, or a pretty rock!"

Kinnit blushed deeply.

"Why don't you have a tail?" asked another.

"The drinks here taste funny!" interjected a third.

All eyes were on them now. Kinnit had her face in her hands. Grimthorn smiled thinly. He was standing stiffly upright.

"Friends, you have celebrated well, according to our traditions. For that, I thank you. And now..."

Grimthorn Stonefist, still stiff and straight, tipped gently over. Slowly at first, then falling quickly, he dropped himself into the Clamber.

"Yay!" cried the Kobolds. They swarmed him, hands on his face, in his pockets, over his entire body.

"Friends!" Grimthorn cried from the pile. "The Kobolds have celebrated like Terrans! Now let us celebrate like Kobolds! Join me!"

"Oh, full sync!" yelled Lucy. She took two running steps and leapt into the pile of Kobolds. The other guests laughed, and several of them joined as well, exclaiming at the closeness and warmth of the Clamber. More guests soon joined, until most of the wedding party was in the Clamber, being passed through the roiling mass of bodies.

Kinnit stood outside the Clamber, stunned by the turn of events. Grimthorn swept by, carried by dozens of Kobold hands.

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He reached out to her.

"Will you join me, my bride?" he said.

With tears of joy, she flung herself into the Clamber with him.

The Emperor strode into the Council Chamber. Instead of the thin, sickly look he'd carried in recent months, he was tall and strong. His face was full, his body fleshed out. He walked confidently, with energy and authority. He nodded to the assembled Ministers and took his seat with flair.

"Y-your Imperial Majesty," stammered Minister Aster. "You're looking... very well today."

"As I've been telling you all for months now," he said, "it was a temporary illness. It has now passed. As I said it would. All your fretting and scheming was for nothing." He gestured to the senior Minister. "Aster, start us off, please. We've got a lot to get through today."

The Ministers went around in a circle, giving their individual reports. The Emperor listened silently, thrumming with impatience. He did not interrupt or ask questions until the entire circle had finished speaking.

"Are we done?" the Emperor asked.

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty," Minister Aster responded. He began gathering his slips and records, preparing to leave.

"Good. Now, by the next meeting I want real reports."

Minister Aster's hands slowed.

"Your Imperial Majesty? I don't understand."

"Today's update is the same pack of meaningless nonsense you have all been regurgitating to me for years. In our next meeting, I want real data. Bring it to me, or I'll go out and get it myself."

The Ministers of the Imperial Council gave a collective gasp.

"But your Imperial Majesty, I assure your our data is--"

"Your presence would disrupt the smooth operation--"

"This is an unprecedented accusation--"

The Emperor held up a hand for silence, and immediately got it.

"You are all correct. I can't audit everything myself. I will send the Cryptographers instead. They've been needing something to do, and I can assure you they will miss nothing."

The gathered Ministers looked on the verge of a collective faint.

"Of course, you could simply report to me properly. Give me a view of the Imperium, or get out. That is what I want from each of you."

The Council sat in stunned silence. Eyes were drawn to the still-empty seat of the Minister of War. It was clear what "get out" might include.

"Now that we've got that settled," said the Emperor, "let's move on to new business. I want to rethink some of our laws and traditions. Let's start with this whole concept of Subject Species..."

As the Emperor continued to speak, the Imperial Council looked more and more unhappy.

The Emperor himself was quite pleased. It was not a bad start, for being only his 292,000th day at work.

Their shuttle touched down in a clearing in the woods. Dense greenery stretched to the horizon.

Kinnit and Grimthorn sat in the back, holding hands and smiling at each other.

"I'll be back in a week," the pilot said. "You can leave your scanners here. I'll bring them with me when I return. Take this tracker. In case anything happens, hit the emergency button and we can evac you in about an hour. You two enjoy!"

"Thank you," Grimthorn said.

"Is it okay to leave your scanner?" Kinnit asked. "If you're needed..."

"If the Imperium can't last a week without Admiral Stonefist, then it won't last two weeks with him." He looked her deep in the eyes. "My focus this week is only you."

Kinnit blushed and lowered her eyes.

"Okay," she said coyly.

Grimthorn and Kinnit debarked.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Welcome to Waldyn," he said, gesturing at the thick woods that surrounded them. "We'll have to hike a little ways."

They walked through the woods for about thirty minutes, following the guidance of the tracker. A narrow trail appeared. It widened as they followed it.

It opened out at last to a small clearing. Nestled among the trees was a small, simple cabin, resting in front of a large pond. The water of the pond was clear and still, the surface smooth as glass. Reeds grew up around the edges. A small canoe was tied up at the dock. Sunlight filtered through the trees. A gentle wind stirred the branches, but did not penetrate down to the ground. The air was cool. Birds chirped and fussed in the background.

"Grimthorn, it's beautiful."

He smiled, looking a little relieved.

"Let's take a look at the cabin."

They walked into the cabin. It was simply built as a single large room, with a bed in one corner, a wood-fired stove in another, and a small table with comfortable seating. A hand-built stone fireplace dominated one wall.

"It's a little primitive," he said. "No electricity, no comms, no distractions." He smiled at her. "Just us."

"I love it!" she said, reveling in the rustic charm.

They moved out to the porch. Two simple rocking chairs waited. Grimthorn sat in one, and Kinnit joined him in the other. He took her hand and gazed out across the pond, watching wide-winged insects like dragonflies buzz and settle on the reeds. They rocked slowly, the creaking of the chairs blending with the singing of the birds. They enjoyed the silence and the nature for a while.

"I love this," Kinnit said, breaking the spell. "How did you think of it?"

Grimthorn paused long in thought.

"I never thought about the future before," Grimthorn said finally. "I never made plans beyond the next battle, the next crisis. Destroy pirates, protect the Imperium. I always figured I'd be like old Admiral Balia, being a good Navy man until I just... couldn't any more." He squeezed her hand. "Now, though... I want something different." He fixed his gaze on the pond. "I have something to work for."

"Which is?"

He turned to her.

"This. You. Someday, when things settle down, when we've got the Imperium safe, when a new generation grows up to protect the Imperium... I want to do this. Just spend the rest of my life with you. No more battles, no more stalking the stars, just... just peace, and quiet, and you."

She sighed happily as they rocked, looking out across the pond.

"That sounds nice," she said dreamily. "Of course, we'll still visit the stars sometimes, right?"

"Of course."

She laid her head on his shoulder, across the rocking chairs.

"I like your dream," she said.

Later that night, they got in the canoe and rowed out onto the pond. The sole moon of Waldyn was clear and bright, casting light down on the forest. Shadows were sharp-edged and black.

The calls of night insects and small animals filled the air, broken only by the sound of the paddle plunging into the water, stroke after stroke as Grimthorn rowed them out into the moonlit night. Kinnit leaned back, looking up at the twinkling stars in the clear night sky, her eyes soft and luminous in the evening light.

"It's so beautiful," she cooed.

Grimthorn smiled and stowed the paddle. The canoe drifted to a stop.

"I'm glad you like it," he said.

She lifted her chin and hooted a quiet song, nostalgic and slow.

"Sing with me, Grimthorn."

He smiled and joined her in her song. They sang to the stars, floating on the pond, late into the night.

Grimthorn and Kinnit sat in their office, working quietly. It had been a couple weeks since they'd returned from their honeymoon, and things were getting back to normal. They'd made a rule for themselves to keep things strictly professional in the office, which they mostly followed.

Admiral Stonefist's scanner beeped.

"Stonefist here."

"Sir, there's an encrypted comm for you."

He glanced at Kinnit. Strictly speaking, he should send her away, but he had a strange feeling about this call all of a sudden. He decided to keep her in the room.

"Patch it in," he said.

"Admiral... Stonefist," came the scratchy, uncertain voice of a Cryptographer.

"Good to hear from you again," he said. "It's not the usual time for our call. What's going on? Where's Broca? Doesn't he usually handle these calls?"

"Broca... is... gone."

"Oh. Oh, I see. I guess his time with the Cryptographers is up. I hope he's doing well."

"He... is... gone."

Grimthorn frowned. That sounded ominous. Then again, everything the Cryptographers said sounded ominous.

"What do you have for me?"

"There... is... a... problem."

"Yes?"

"The... Aberrant... has... escaped."

Admiral Stonefist bolted to his feet.

"What?" he yelled. "You told me that thing was dangerous! You went on and on about having bad it would be to have a rulebreaker loose in the galaxy, and now you've let it escape? I thought you were going to destroy it! How did it escape?"

"It... broke... the... rules."

Grimthorn swore a mighty oath.

"Okay, we'll-- we'll put out a notice, get the fleets looking for this thing. Where is it likely to go? What is it going to do? How do we kill it?"

"There... is... another... problem. The... Solution... is... threatened."

"What does that mean? What 'solution?'"

"The... Feeders... are... coming. They... are... 200... years... early."

"What does that mean? What are the feeders?"

"They... will... be... here... soon."

"Talk straight, for once! What am I supposed to do with this information?"

"Prepare... yourself."