Lieutenant Dol sat in the nook behind engineering, ashen-faced and shivering.

The air behind the main forward compressor where he was sitting was dank and chill, but that wasn't what was contributing to Dol's shaking.

The dark figure glided in.

"Greetings, young Lieutenant," he said. Dol shot to his feet.

"You said retired," Lieutenant Dol hissed. "Not killed! You made me let a Qhall assassin onboard an Imperium ship!"

The dark figure chuckled richly.

"Come now, young Lieutenant. Surely you understood what we meant? You know the use of euphemism? We are of an accord, are we not?"

"I didn't know! I never signed up for treason!"

A broad, crooked grin split the dark figure's face.

"Do you think I believe that? And more importantly, do you think a board of inquiry would believe that?"

All the life drained from Lieutenant Dol's face.

"I'll-- I'll confess! I'll tell them I didn't know! And the assassin didn't succeed anyway! I'll throw myself on the mercy of the inquiry! I'll--"

"Oh, yes, that should work out well. I hear Admiral Stonefist is famously merciful to traitors."

Dol's eyes darted around, as though looking for a way out, and he began hyperventilating.

"You understand your position now, young Lieutenant? Your only hope is to work with us to eliminate Admiral Stonefist. You are with us now, until the end."

A high, whining keen began in the back of Dol's throat, something that was not quite weeping in terror, but nearly.

"And now we have another task for you. Pay attention. This one is important."

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In spite of his misgivings, Admiral Stonefist showed up in medbay the next day to get his dressings changed.

The young medic attending him seemed a little overawed to be working on the legendary Admiral. He chattered non-stop as he worked on Grimthorn's wound.

"And did you really kill a Kyrillian crocodile with your bare hands, sir?"

Admiral Stonefist grunted as the medic cleaned his wound. Kinnit's touch had been much more gentle.

"Technically, yes. But it's probably not as exciting as you've heard. It had been wounded already, and I was just trying to pin it down, keep it from getting at the rest of the away team so they could get to safety."

The medic let out an appreciative whistle.

"That's amazing, sir! And everyone knows the story of the hero of Arcturus!"

"Nobody knows the story of Arcturus," Grimthorn muttered darkly.

"It is a real honor to serve with the hero of Arcturus, sir! I read all about your stories! And when I was a kid I watched live as you expanded the borders of Imperium space down the spinward arm!"

"Way back when you were a kid, huh? How old are you now?"

"I'm twenty-three, sir!"

Admiral Stonefist gave him a level stare, then sighed.

"It's been that long since the spinward arm expansion? It feels like it happened last month."

The medic nattered on as he worked, but soon enough he was done, and had Grimthorn's wound covered up again. Admiral Stonefist wondered if he shouldn't let Assistant Kinnit handle his wound, if this yammering young fan was going to bend his ear like this every day.

Grimthorn put his shirt back on, then his coat. He was buttoning up his coat while the medic babbled, but paused when something caught his ear.

"What was that?"

"Oh, I was wondering, sir, why you don't use the biopod, now that your Assistant is healed up? It's available now."

Grimthorn stood nonplussed for a second. Why hadn't he used the biopod? He simply hadn't thought of it.

"How long would it take?"

"It's not certain. It's not a deterministic device. But based on the would, it should only be a day or two."

Grimthorn frowned thoughtfully.

"That's a good thought. Let me consider it."

He finished buttoning up and left the medbay.

Once back in his office, he settled in behind his desk. Kinnit was working away on another stack of slips at her table.

"What are you working on today, Kinnit?"

"We've got the logistics reports in finally, sir, and the Torpedo Officer just filed requisition order for Engineering."

"What going on with the torpedos?"

"Tube three is malfunctioning, sir. The tube itself is fine, but it won't communicate with the fire control system. If they want to launch, they'll have to do it manually. They think it's probably the interface board."

"Well, let's definitely get that fixed. Fill out the paperwork and put my signature on everything. You know the drill."

"Yes, sir."

Admiral Stonefist experimentally tried raising his arm, and winced at the wound. It would be awfully nice to be done with this without enduring weeks more of pain. And without adding another scar.

"Kinnit, how would you feel if I were out of commission for a couple days?"

"Sir?"

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"I'm thinking about using the biopod to heal up my shoulder. But I'd be incommunicado for a couple days."

"Oh, what a wonderful idea! You could get healed much more quickly," she said as her fingers continued collating slips.

"Right, right. Now, I know you could handle the paperwork and the day-to-day. I'm just wondering... are you prepared to be the Voice?"

Kinnit's fingers stilled. The full weight of the responsibility of her position settled on her again.

"You want me to speak for you while you're healing, sir?"

"That is part of the job of the Assistant."

Kinnit gazed, unseeing, at the slips in her hand.

"I know it is, I just-- Do you think I'm ready, sir?"

"Do I think you're qualified? Yes. But even as the Voice, you wouldn't have the actual authority of an Admiral. You'd have to work with Captain Caltrel. And--" He paused, unsure whether to continue. But he'd told himself he needed to be more honest with her. "And there are some on board who would discount you because..."

"Because I'm an SS, sir?"

He nodded, tight-lipped.

"If you give me the duty, sir, I will fulfill it. And I will represent you truly as your voice."

"Very well." He nodded and said, seemingly to himself, "After all it's only a day or two. What could go wrong?"

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Admiral Stonefist was put in the biopod a few days later. He'd prepped everybody on board, and officially handed control of the vessel over to Captain Caltrel. He made the announcement, paused his work, and designated Assistant Kinnit as his official Voice.

He entered the biopod with no small amount of trepidation. He filled it much more thoroughly than Kinnit had. As the medics fitted the cover over the top, he was beset by a deep worry, but he force his fears down, took a deep breath, and let them seal him in.

The biopod activated, and he didn't know consciousness for the next two days.

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Kinnit stood beside Captain Caltrel on the bridge. He was a tall, thin man with dark hair, and, like most career Navy, wore his uniform as naturally as a second skin.

It was interesting, she thought, to see Captain Caltrel's very different style of leadership.

Admiral Stonefist spent most of his time in his office working on planning, logistics, flight paths, and reviewing reports on potential enemies. And, of course, attending meetings and filling out reams of paperwork. On the rare occasion he was on the bridge, he focused on a few critical things, driving everyone and everything to solving the crisis of the moment.

Captain Caltrel, on the other hand, spent most of his time on the bridge. He kept a steady watch over the data that flowed through the constantly across the massive bridge screen. He gave frequent guidance, minor corrections, and directives.

She kept mostly to herself the first day. She spent part of the morning in Admiral Stonefist's office catching up on work, and the rest of the day on the bridge. Things were quiet.

On the second day, she showed up early on the bridge. Captain Caltrel was already there, issuing orders, and guiding the vessel through a routine patrol.

All was well until an alert flashed on one corner of the screen. A distress call, to any ship available.

Captain Caltrel's eye flicked to it, then away.

Kinnit waited a moment for him to begin issuing commands, but he said nothing.

"Sir?" she asked gently. "Are we going to answer the distress call?"

"It's out of range. Somebody else can handle it."

"With all due respect, sir, it's only three jumps away. We could be there in an hour."

"Only an hour-- ah, yes, Admiral Stonefist lets you play at navigation sometimes."

She bit down on her temper.

"Sir, Admiral Stonefist would certainly want us to respond."

"Well he's not Captain of this ship right now, is he? I am. You may not be aware, but that means I make the decisions. Not you."

Kinnit bristled.

"No sir, but I am his Voice. And he would instruct us to make all haste to Imperial citizens in need."

"They're not citizens."

"Sir?"

"They're not citizens. That's in Krivax space."

Her breath caught as she understood his meaning.

"Sir, the Krivax are citizens! We must help them!"

"They're not. They're a Subject Species."

"Captain, with all due respect, the Krivax are as deserving of protection as any citizen of the empire."

"I can see why you think that."

Captain Caltrel looked meaningfully at her collar, then up at her face.

"But you're wrong."

And he turned back to the screen.

"Aren't you even going to investigate? Contact them? Send a probe? They could be under attack!"

"They're not under attack. There has never been an attack anywhere near that sector before. That sector has no military value. Like most SS, they're emotional and probably making a fuss over nothing. Someone else can help them at some point."

"Sir, I must object! Admiral Stonefist would absolutely instruct us--"

"The Admiral is not here, Assistant. And I'm not going to wheel the entire fleet halfway across the galaxy for a bunch of SS who are jumping at shadows!"

Kinnit seethed and ground her teeth. Anger suffused her, but she forced herself to stay calm. She had to get the Krivax some help. But how?

What would Admiral Stonefist do?

Then she had to amend the thought: what would Admiral Stonefist do if he couldn't punch Captain Caltrel right in the nose?

She stared intently at the data on the screen for a long moment.

"Permission to leave the bridge," she said finally, saluting.

"Please."

She departed stiffly.

She went back to the Admiral's office, sat at his console, and whipped out a requisition order under his name as fast as she could type. Then she stiff-legged it over to fire control, moving as quickly as she could without running and drawing suspicion.

The fire control officer for Tube Three was a lean, rangy man with a sleepy face and a protuberant Adam's apple. He looked up in surprise as she strode in.

"I'm Admiral Stonefist's Assistant," Kinnit said. "He wants you to test the faulty fire tube."

The fire control officer's eyebrows waggled comically.

"Huh? But we did test it. It works fine. It's just not communicating with the fire control system, so the bridge can't set coordinates, and isn't getting data from the fire control."

"He wants to test it with manually entered coordinates."

Those eyebrows waggled again.

"But putting a torpedo out there when we're not in combat would be a serious protocol violation."

Just then, a mechanic in greasy coveralls pushed in a torpedo loading card, loaded with the probe she'd requisitioned.

"Here's the probe from the admiral," the mechanic said, handing the fire control officer a scanner with the order.

"Oh, a probe," the fire control officer said. "Yeah, that makes sense for a test. But we'll still need coordinates to put in."

"I have the coordinates," Kinnit said, and she recited the coordinates of the distress call she'd memorized off the bridge screen.

The fire control officer dutifully punched the data into the panel on the side of the probe, then wheeled the cart over to Tube Three. He positioned it and activated the loader that drew the probe into the waiting tube.

He locked it in place, sealed the tube, and ran through a final checklist.

Outwardly, Kinnit exuded confidence, and affected a little boredom, but inside she was screaming anxiety about everything that could go wrong. What if the fire control officer got suspicious? What if the mechanic said something outsite of fire control? What if somebody called the bridge about the launch?

And what would Admiral Stonefist say when came out of the biopod?

She felt sick to her stomach.

The fire control officer looked at her.

"Are we clear to launch, Assistant?"

"You are clear to launch."

The fire control officer activated the tube. With a deep, humming thrum, the probe leapt from the tube, picking up velocity and angling for the nearby jumphole.

"Looks good, launch completed successfully," he said. "That sucker's moving. These new probes are screamers. It should be at those coordinates pretty quick."

"Twelve point seven minutes," Kinnit mutterd. "Thank you," she said out loud. "I'll let the Admiral know."

And she turned and walked stiffly back to the office to wait for the probe's data.

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Captain Caltrel's eye was caught by an unexpected bit of data that popped up on the massive screen.

"Lieutenant Renning, what is that on the scanners?"

Lieutenant Renning's brow furrowed.

"It's... a probe, sir?"

"A probe? What ship is firing probes?"

Lieutenant Renning scratched his head.

"Well, it looks like it came from us, sir. But that can't be, the fire control board's not showing anything."

Captain Caltrel looked at the spot where Kinnit had been standing, and his face hardened into a snarl.

"All blasters online! Shoot that probe down now!"

"Sir?"

"Blow it out of the sky! Do it!"

Lieutenant Renning quickly sent the orders, but before the the blasters were even halfway warmed up, the probe vanished into the jumphole.