The following day, Admiral Stonefist and Kinnit sat in his office. She'd imprinted a lot of data on slips so they could rearrange them as they talked.
"Okay," Grimthorn said. "Let's lay out the elements of what's been happening lately."
Kinnit nodded, eager to get started. Her hands hovered over her scanner, ready to type.
"First, there was the Insectoid attack on the outpost in Yellow Dog sector. They tried for an overwhelming attack, to destroy the outpost before they could raise an alarm. Probably so they could get access to Vylar space without anybody knowing."
Kinnit paused her typing.
"But that's dealing with motivations, sir," Kinnit said. "It's speculative. We should stick to known facts for now."
Grimthorn nodded.
"Fair enough. So. Bugs attack the outpost. Because of that we uncovered that the Stone Pirates had been stealing Vylar fighters and selling them to the bugs. Based on the records we reviewed, that's been happening for years."
"So the fighters we destroyed, that's not going to be the last we see of Insectoids piloting Vylar fighters, right, sir?" Kinnit asked.
Admiral Stonefist sighed.
"Probably not. Who knows how many thousands of fighters have been sold?" He frowned. "It's not clear to me why the bugs were buying Vylar fighters. They have their own fighters, the only thing the Vylar--"
She paused typing again.
"Let's focus, sir. Just get the facts out on the table."
"Right, right. Then there was the assassination attempt." He bristled, remembering it. "There was a Qhall assassin on board my ship. It's almost certain that someone on board smuggled him in. Which means we have a traitor on the ISS Swordheart." His hands clenched into fists. "And traitors are like roaches, for every one you see, there are ten more that you don't. Probably retribution for stopping the bug attack on Yellow--"
He glanced at Kinnit, who raised an eyebrow at him.
"But let's stay focused on facts for the moment. While I was out of commission, Kennex Caltrel, formerly Captain Caltrel, refused to respond to a distress call. Thanks to the brave efforts of my Assistant, we were able to respond, and discovered that the Krivax homeworld had been destroyed. And while sniffing up the backtrail we found that an elaborate trap had been laid, designed to break the back of the Ninth Fleet."
"Do you think, sir, that Captain Caltrel-- sorry, Mr. Caltrel," she amended as he glared at her, "knew about the mass-chain bomb? And that's why he didn't want to respond?"
"Almost certainly. Which means he's got a line on what the traitors are up to. But he wasn't a fan of a plan that would get him blown up. So either he's a cowardly traitor that couldn't follow through, or he's a traitor for knowing about what was going on without reporting it."
"Has any good come interrogating him, sir?"
"Not yet. When we get back to the CenCom we're going to turn him over to the Cryptographers."
She shuddered, and unconsciously fingered the collar bound to her skin. She'd only had the one interaction with a Cryptographer, and that had been a friendly one, as those things went. But she was in no rush to meet another one.
"Is that necessary, sir? The Cryptographers can be--"
He held up a hand.
"Believe me, Assistant, I would not lightly put anyone into their hands. I hate the very idea of letting them have a man of the fleet. But I hate the idea of traitors on my ship even more."
She nodded sadly.
"I understand."
"Anyway, the attack on the Krivax homeworld was accomplished by towing an asteroid, and the trap was a mass-chain bomb. Both of those things are well beyond the bug's technical capability."
"Yes, sir." Kinnit typed some more into her scanner.
"So. Outpost attack, pirates, assassination, Krivax attack, and trap. It's been a busy time."
"Are we sure they're all related, sir?"
"If nothing else, the Oryndrax are certainly up to something. You might get me to believe that they could figure out how to buy Vylar fighters from pirates, but Krivax? Leaving aside the technology, that kind of scheme is light-years beyond their ability to plan."
He steepled his fingers.
"The bugs aren't planners or strategists. The problems we've had with them has mostly been raids, and those have been in fairly predictable sectors. All this activity is new territory for them."
"Could they be learning? Maybe making a play for a few extra stars of their own?"
Grimthorn made a face.
"It's possible. But Krivax, the mass-chain bomb-- none of this is like them. Their strength is in their overwhelming numbers. They breed ferociously fast, and their home-built fighters are so cheap that they barely hold together. Our strategists estimate they lose 10-15% of their fighters in combat because they simply come apart under the strain of high-speed combat maneuvers. It seems unlikely that they're making this drastic of a shift all of a sudden."
"So someone is directing them and supplying them," Kinnit said. "But what do the Oryndrax get out of it?"
"Good question. Food, probably. Another planet to infest, maybe. It's probably not important. What is important is figuring out who is helping the bugs."
"Well, all three of their recent maneuvers would have done a good bit of damage to the Imperium. But not critically."
"Right, but remember, a war is not just fought on the front lines. It's also fought by the morale of the people at home."
Kinnit frowned.
"I don't understand."
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Grimthorn raised a finger.
"First, Yellow Dog sector. If they'd taken that outpost, they'd have had weeks to bring in ships unnoticed. They would have spread all through Vylar space. Remember that the bugs are mostly raiders. They'd have been able to raid into any of the sectors bordering the Vylar. Not much damage militarily, but now you've got dozens of sectors of civilians that are nervously watching the skies."
He raised a second finger.
"Second, Krivax. They destroyed a homeworld utterly. It was crude and it was aimed at an unprotected planet, but combine that with raids by the bugs, and people start thinking that maybe the Imperium isn't so safe as they thought."
Kinnit nodded, seeing where things were going.
"Third, the trap. I flatter us that the destruction of the Ninth Fleet would have been a devastating blow. But not nearly as devastating as the loss of confidence from civilians. Realistically, the safety of the Imperium is held by the hundreds of thousands of outposts, stations, and small fleets. There's a reason the Ninth Fleet is called the spear of the Imperium, and not the shield. The Imperium's shield is three galaxies wide and employs more people than any ten planets."
"I see," Kinnit said. "Militarily, the Imperium would have been fine. But the real crisis would have been at home."
"Exactly. Can you imagine? 'There are raids all over the place, they can't protect their planets, and now they've lost the entire Ninth Fleet!'"
He rubbed his eyes.
"The next problem," he said, "is that we hold the outlying territories mostly by their good graces. We could put down one or two revolts, but if there were a crisis of confidence, if people thought we couldn't respond militarily..."
"There would be massive revolts across the three galaxies," she breathed.
"Exactly. And the more star systems revolted, the more that would feed into the idea that the Imperium is crumbling."
"It is not crumbling!" she shouted, jumping to her feet. Tears stood in her eyes. "The Imperium is the greatest force for good the universe has ever seen!"
Grimthorn chuckled nervously and made a calming gesture.
"It's not crumbling," he said. "But someone is trying hard to make it look that way."
"That would be awful," Kinnit said, imagining the image of the Imperium tarnished so deeply by a few cleverly timed plots. "But who would do all that? And why?"
"If it's an external threat, it's a prelude to war. Weaken the home front, and you take the starch out of the fighting men. Along with funding and support. And there are plenty of species out there that would love to take a bite out of us. But this nuanced of an attack suggests that whoever's behind it understands the Imperium well."
"So an internal threat, then," she said.
"Probably," he admitted.
"Why would someone inside the Imperium want to destroy it?"
"Well, I don't know that they do. It wouldn't destroy the Imperium, necessarily. There's a lot of ruin in an empire. But it would significantly weaken her. The reasons could be any number of things. Setting up their own fiefdom. Making a play to be the next Emperor. It's hard to say."
Kinnit frowned, her normally-cheery features taking on a set cast.
"Well, I think we should watch for anyone who's trying to make hay out of this," she said. "Who stands to gain?"
"That's a good thought."
Kinnit made some more notes. Grimthorn sighed heavily and shook his head, and stared at the floor. Kinnit could see his dark thoughts taking hold.
"But it's all too much. There are too many people in it for themselves. The Imperium's gotten so big, and everybody hates us. There's so much rottenness. Whoever's doing this... maybe they're right. Maybe it's time for the next thing."
Kinnit stood to her feet, trembling with rage.
"Sir, with all due respect, you will never say that in my presence again! The Imperium is a powerful force for good! And it's more than just a government, or a navy, or an administration. It's a philosophy! A transcendant way of thinking! Imagine, at what other point in history could so many species come together, work together, create so many wonderful things together? And there's still war, but at what other point in history has there been so much peace? Most of the star systems in the Imperium have not known war in generations!"
She pointed a quivering finger at him.
"And who protects the weak? Who grows young species, like the Kobolds? My people are blessed by the Imperium every day, and you dare to despair?"
Grimthorn, taken aback by her outburst, sat up straight. Some iron returned to his spine.
"Even the noblest aspects of the Imperium are rooted in blood and fire," he said. "We didn't expand the borders by asking nicely."
"But the Imperium has done so much for so many! I know it's not perfect, but how can you even think for a moment that it's worth giving up on? Hasn't the Imperium done so much for you?"
Grimthorn smiled tiredly.
"It has, I suppose. But I wonder if I haven't just been gaining advantage at the expense of others."
She pursed her lips, annoyed.
Grimthorn's mind wandered to the past.
----------------------------------------
Dogsquat scrambled to the top of a heap of trash, clinging to an old power converter with his sickly-thin arms, and peered around.
"All clear," he whispered.
Three other children crept from the shadows and began sifting through the garbage.
They'd come from the forest to hunt for food. The forest provided some, but acorns were not really filling, and were a lot of work to eat. Mushrooms were nice, but dangerous. They'd tried some snares, but there weren't really enough animals left to reliably feed themselves from.
The garbage pits, on the other hand, had rarer but juicier finds. Sometimes the entire gang could feast on moldy vegetables, spoiled dairy, or occasionally, wonder of wonders, packaged foods.
The garbage pits were more generous, but more dangerous. Usually they were pretty safe if you avoided Pirate Day-- the one day a month the Bloody Thorn Pirates came down for their food and supplies. But sometimes, they came in the middle of the month, if they had a bunch of raids lined up that altered the schedule. Or sometimes they showed up just because they liked scaring and dominating the people of Dorvalla.
Dogsquat scrambled down to search with his gang.
They were mostly quiet, only the gentle rustle and clank of trash carefully being moved around broke the still dusk air. An occasional huff of excitement as an edible morsel or valuable scrap was found.
The night air was split by a gobbling scream.
Dogsquat froze in place. It was the only smart move. Maybe they wouldn't find him, too.
But the screaming continued. It sounded like Slapgut, the tallest member of the gang. And now there was laughing.
His instincts screamed against it, but he crept around until he could see. Slapgut was thrashing, his thin limbs flailing and his long, greasy hair held firmly in a pirate's grip. The rest of the gang had already scattered.
The pirate himself was impossibly tall, with rough skin and a scruffy beard, dressed in ragged clothes that had been military at one point.
"Ah, and I've found me a new crewmate!" the pirate crowed. "We lose so many of the new ones, but you look healthy. You'll last, I bet."
Slapgut squealed in raw terror, the whites of his eyes showing.
Dogsquat turned and crept away, as he'd done so many times before, leaving the unfortunate member of his gang to his fate with the pirates. Just like he did with his parents. Just like he did with his sister.
At least, that's what he intended to do.
He barely even realized he'd made a decision before he was charging at the pirate and flying through the air, clawing at his face. A fist like a star destroyer smashed Dogsquat to the ground.
Slapgut twisted hard and broke free, leaving a hank of hair in the pirate's fist. Roaring, the pirate grabbed Dogsquat by the throat.
"A greater treasure knocks the lesser out of my hand," the pirate cackled. "Now there's a new thing. Your spirit will serve you well among the Bloody Thorns!"
Dogsquat spat in his face and tried to tear the immovable fingers from his throat.
"Never! I will fight, and fight, and fight! I'll never be one of you!"
"Ah, they all say that. Every one. And every one becomes a Bloody Thorn." The pirate shrugged. "Or they die."
Dogsquat fixed him with a flat stare.
"I won't become a pirate. And I won't die. I'll kill all of you."
The child radiated rage, hate, and indefatigable determination. The pirate's snide grin faltered.
"And what makes you think you're any different?"
"My grandfather was a mason," Dogsquat said, "and you pirates killed him. My father was a mason, and you killed him. My mother, you killed her. And my sister you took away on your ships."
That unsettling stare drilled into the pirate's eyes.
"I am Dogsquat Stonefist, and I vow with my whole life, whatever it takes, no matter what I have to do, I will kill every pirate in the galaxy. Starting with you."
The pirate scoffed, less convincingly than before.
Pale streaks suddenly appeared across the darkening sky. The pirate stared up, slack jawed.
"Oh, no," he said, dropping Dogsquat. "They found us."