"We covered our tracks!" the pirate cried as Dogsquat scampered away. "How did they find us?"

The streaks of light grew in number as more landing shuttles entered the atmosphere.

A loud crack sounded, and the pirate dropped to the ground, screaming. His left leg flopped unnaturally as he thrashed.

Dogsquat stood over him, holding a length of pipe in one hand.

"What are you doing?" the pirate screamed, scooting back. "It's the Imperium! They kill everybody!"

Dogsquat's expression remained flat.

"Then that means they kill pirates," he said. "And that's good enough for me."

And Dogsquat raised the pipe to make good on his promise.

----------------------------------------

Dogsquat arrived at the forward landing base. Quick-set tents were scattered around, and gleaming ships rested on the ground nearby. Men in clean, crisp uniforms bustled around busily.

Dogsquat shifted his shoulders. They ached abominably, as did his legs. He'd found some rope and lashed the pirate's shoulders to his, tying himself together with the pirate, back-to-back so he could drag him around. And he'd pulled the pirate's body all the way from the garbage pit to this outpost.

The ropes cut into his shoulders. His shoulders were raw and bleeding, his blood mingling with the blood that the pirate was still leaking. With the dragging, the pirate's pants, which had not been a good fit in the first place, were pulled down his legs as Dogsquat walked for miles, then down around his feet, then off entirely.

He arrived at the entrance. A soldier with a long, sinister blaster rifle eyed him uncertainly.

"You can't come in here, son," the soldier said.

"I want to see the boss," Dogsquat said. "Every gang has a boss, and I want to see the boss."

This was a new experience for the soldier. After a little arguing, the soldier checked Dogsquat for weapons, then pointed him toward the center of the base.

Dogsquat grimly pushed forward, dragging his ghastly cargo. Whenever someone challenged him, he'd reiterate that he only wanted to see the boss, and they'd point him further in.

As it turns out, when you're a child dragging a half-naked dead body around, people are only too happy to let someone else deal with you.

Finally he arrived at the center of the base. A table had been set up on open ground. It was covered with maps and slips. It was flanked by serious-looking men in uniforms, and behind the table sat a stern, broad man with a face like a chisel.

"So you're the one causing a stir on my base," said the stern man.

"Are you the boss?" Dogsquat asked.

"You could say that. Who are you?"

"I brought you a pirate," Dogsquat said, dropping the body. "A dead one."

The stern man nodded. He gave the body a brief look, then waved at one of his lieutenants, who began dragging the body away.

"That's mighty grim, young man."

"I heard you kill pirates."

The stern man nodded slowly, a thoughtful look on his face.

"We do that on occasion. We've been hunting the Bloody Thorn Pirates for years. I'm glad we finally found their supply station here. I take it you're one of the locals?"

Dogsquat's muscles screamed as his back straightened, and his shoulders were on fire.

"I'm Dogsquat Stonefist. I want to join you and kill pirates."

"I'm pleased to meet you, young Stonefist. I am Captain Balia of the ISS Bellerophon. Tell me, why do you want to kill pirates?"

"Because they hurt people, and take their things."

Captain Balia nodded.

"Where are your parents?"

A hot ball of tears began to rise in Dogsquat, but he swallowed them hard and kept his face stony.

"Ain't got any."

"And how old are you?"

"Fourteen." Dogsquat's face contorted in thought. "I think. I stopped keeping track a couple years ago."

"Hmm. Fourteen is too young to join the military. But you might be old enough to train as an Assistant. That could be a path into a military career for you."

"Then I'll do it. I want to protect people." Dogsquat gave a crude mimicry of a salute, as he'd seen others in the camp do.

Captain Balia nodded.

"Very well." He began filling out some paperwork. "'Dogsquat', that's an unusual name."

"It's my child-name. I don't have a man-name yet."

Balia’s brow furrowed.

"I don’t think I understand."

Dogsquat sighed, and spoke as though explaining something to a baby.

"When you’re born a boy, you get your child-name. Your dad walks outside immediately after your mom gives birth, and the first thing he sees is what he names you. Most of the time that works out. Sometimes not so much."

"Ah. Oh."

"Then when you turn thirteen, you get your man-name, based on what you’re good at, or some kind of great work or accomplishment you’ve achieved. Your dad goes to the village elders and gives them your new name, they argue about it, then there’s a ceremony where they tell the village your name. And that’s who you are from then on."

"Fascinating."

"But I don’t have a dad. And we don’t have any elders any more."

Captain Balia nodded. He looked meaningfully at the stained patch of ground where Dogsquat had dropped the pirate.

"Well then, if you’ll permit me…"

He stood up, his back ramrod straight.

"Ah-tennn-SHUN!” he cried."

All the lieutenants straightened up.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"I, Captain Balia of the Imperial Navy, do hereby declare that the civilian monikered Dogsquat has demonstrated exceptional bravery and capacity by singlehandedly slaying and transporting a member of the notorious Bloody Thorn Pirates to our base in a most grim and curious manner. Thus do I give him his man-name: Grimthorn."

Balia saluted.

"Welcome to the Imperium, Grimthorn Stonefist. All hail the Imperium!"

"All hail!" cried the lieutenants.

Stunned, Dogsquat, now Grimthorn, replicated the salute.

"All hail!" he cried.

----------------------------------------

Admiral Stonefist rested his mouth on his clasped fists.

"Sir? Are you still with me?" Kinnit asked.

"Hm? Oh, yes, sorry. You got me thinking about the past." He stood and stretched, his joints crackling. "How about some coffee?"

"Please don't change the subject, sir."

"I'm not. I just want coffee."

She frowned at him as he prepared two cups of coffee. He sat back down and handed her a mug. She didn't stop frowning, but she did accept the coffee.

"You are a hero of the Imperium, sir. I don't understand how you can just act like the Imperium doesn't matter."

"Don't call me that."

"What? Hero? Why not? It's what you are, isn't it?"

Grimthorn looked away. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low and quiet.

"Do you know what a hero is, Kinnit? Do you know the story of Arcturus?"

"Well, of course, sir, everybody kn--"

"No." His quiet word stopped her more effectively than a shout. His face had an eerie cast. His eyes were haunted. "That's the story that the Imperium spread. Do you want to know what really happened?"

Kinnit was suddenly very sure she did not. But she needed to know. She had to know, so she could make him see the Imperium as she did.

----------------------------------------

Admiral Stonefist gazed at the bridge monitor as they came out of jumpspace. Arcturus gleamed below them, glittering blue and beautiful in the dim light of its red sun. An array of at least a hundred pirate ships surrounded the planet.

Admiral Stonefist, now in his twenties, sneered. This rabble would cower before the might of the Ninth Fleet.

"Comms, let's give these pirates a call."

Protocol dictated that he should wait until the rest of the fleet had arrived before establishing communications, but Grimthorn wanted the psychological pressure of a steady stream of ships arriving while he negotiated.

A scruffy, snaggletoothed face appeared on the comms screen.

"This is Admiral Grimthorn Stonefist of the Ninth Fleet, Imperium. Who am I speaking with?"

The pirate gave him a saucy grin, matching Grimthorn sneer for sneer.

"I'm Captain Mardin of the Dragonscale Pirates. And this is my planet. It's not for you filthy Imperials."

"Arcturus is under the protection of the Imperium. Disperse, or be dispersed."

Captain Mardin made a mocking, fearful face.

"Oh no, big scary Imperium man and all his ships. Tell you what, you can have the planet back after I'm done with it."

"Very well. You were warned. Now you will be corrected. All ships, charge weapons."

"Ooh, you're gonna correct me? You and what army?"

Something about the man's tone gave Admiral Stonefist an ugly premonition.

"Sir!" said a Lieutenant. "There's a torpedo heading for the jumphole! It's unpowered, so we didn't catch it before!"

Grimthorn's face blanched as the data came across the screen. That wasn't just a torpedo, it was a quantum disruptor. One of the only weapons that could collapse a jumphole.

"All ships, fire on that torpedo! Stop it at all costs--"

The torpedo flared brightly, too bright to look at. Static filled the comms as the jumphole-- really just a tear in the fabric of space-time-- wobbled.

"No..."

The mad pirate cackled.

"Where's your ships now, Imperial clown?"

Admiral Stonefist watched helplessly as the jumphole destabilized. He couldn't even radio into the jumphole to warn the ships in transit; no waves propagated through the jumphole barrier.

"Hold!" Grimthorn commanded the jumphole. "Hold!"

But the disobedient jumphole collapsed. A destroyer made it partway out, and was cut through as cleanly as if with a laser. The chunk of destroyer that made it through tumbled away into space, spraying fuel and bodies.

Teeth clenched, Admiral Stonefist mentally ran the calculations. At the time of the collapse, anywhere between 40 and 50 ships of the fleet would have been traversing the jumphole. Ships that were now forever trapped in that slice of hell between space and time.

A quick scan of the fleet showed that only eighty or so ships had made it through. The rest of the fleet was stuck in the previous sector, probably wondering where their jumphole had gone.

"Yaaah! I'm Captain Mardin, the man that bested the Ninth Fleet! Suck on that, Imperials!"

Admiral Stonefist felt sick. More pirate ships were converging from the other side of the planet, hundreds of glittering points spread out in a deadly array before the outnumbered Imperium fleet.

Grimthorn quickly scanned the data as he addressed the fleet.

"All ships, hedgehog formation. Four formations. All fighters out, focus on the light cruisers, they won't have much defense against you. And they don't appear to have any carriers, so no worries about dogfighting."

The ships moved with practiced discipline into their assigned formations, forming spheres of ships, their guns pointing outward. Admiral Stonefist set his jaw.

"Let's show this scum what it costs to take on the Imperium."

The pirates opened fire before they were set in formation. The Ninth Fleet returned disciplined volleys, each quadrant of each hedgehog focusing on a single ship, knocking it out of the sky, one after another. The Imperial fighters harassed the light cruisers, keeping them focused on defense and out of the main action.

Grimthorn looked at the statistics spinning by on the screen, his mouth tightening. They were making it expensive for the pirates, but this defensive ploy was only going to end one way. The pirates had surrounded each hedgehog and were mercilessly pummeling the Imperium ships.

Captain Mardin cackled, startling Grimthorn. He'd left the comms channel open.

"How do you like that?" he squawked. "I'll be the first man in history to defeat the Ninth Fleet!"

"You're not the first to try. You won't be the last to fail. All ships, wedge formation!"

The four hedgehogs rearranged themselves amidst the streaming chaos of blaster fire and torpedoes.

"Break through toward your nearest neighbor's formation! Hit the pirates in their flanks! Whirlpool!"

With the throaty chorus of eighty ship's reactors firing, each of the wedges blasted free of encirclement. Rather than turn and attack the pirates that had been surrounding them, each wedge charged straight ahead to the next group of pirates, flinging a rain of blaster fire and torpedos ahead of them.

The wedges tore into the flanks of the pirates, shredding ships. The pirate fleet turned and tried to engage the Imperium, but the wedges blasted through their tattered formations, turning only slightly to hit the next formation. The wedges created a rotating series of blows that smashed through the pirates repeatedly.

"All ships fall back!" screamed Captain Mardin. Form on me!"

The pirates slowly started to regroup, escaping the Ninth Fleet whirlpool, with heavy losses. Their ships formed back up in a loose attack formation.

"You can't win!" Captain Mardin screamed. "We've got more ships than you!"

"Being outnumbered only makes it a fair fight," Grimthorn said. "All ships, maniple formation!"

The Imperial ships lined up, row upon row, unleashing fury on the pirates. They advanced steadily. As the shields of the front row of the line began to falter, they'd shimmy back in the formation, letting a fresh line bear the brunt of the pirate's attack. Steadily, their line began to grind through the pirate's defenses.

Captain Mardin, nearly frothing, was screaming at Grimthorn and his own ships in equal measure.

"Shoot them! Shoot them! Imperial maggots! Die!"

Mardin stared pure hate at Grimthorn as the battle turned decisively against him. Then he addressed his fleet for the last time.

"If you're going down, aim for the planet!" he shrieked. "Take as many Imperials with you as you can!"

"Right flank, break away and defend the planet!"

Some of the pirate ships began to rout, aiming for the last jumphole out of the Arcturus system.

"Left flank," cried Admiral Stonefist, "break away and destroy any ship that tries to escape!"

The pirates rallied and pressed the attack on the beleaguered remainder of the Ninth Fleet's maniple. Ships of the Imperium flared and died around the Swordheart. A few pirate ships, crippled, limped toward the planet, and the Imperium blasted them to shreds. But the shreds still fell to the surface.

The battle raged on for another hour.

----------------------------------------

"Forty-three ships lost in the jumphole collapse," Grimthorn told Kinnit. "Twenty-six more in the battle. Tens of thousands dead on the planet surface from battle debris. That's what my pride cost. Two hundred and twelve pirate vessels destroyed. That's the death tally."

Kinnit listened with a pained expression.

"So there you have it. That's what a hero is. A mad killer that happened to be on the winning side. So come! Celebrate the murderer!"

She reached out and laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"You're wrong, Grimthorn. It wasn't the killing that made you a hero. It was the saving. That's what they celebrate. That's what mattered. Many lost their lives, but you saved so many more. People that have lived full, rich lives because of your bravery, and the sacrifice of your men. Every one of them matters."

He looked at her with a shocked expression for a long, silent moment.

"How do you do that?" he said finally.

"Do what?"

"I've agonized about this literally for decades. And you have the absolute gall to just come in and casually ruin my favorite pity party."

She giggled a little, and leaned forward.

"Sir, you are--"

He threw up a hand, stopping her.

"Please don't heap praise on me. Not now."

She nodded.

"I won't. But know that I respect and admire you. And that hasn't changed. But I hope it changes your view on the Imperium."

He sat thinking for a long time after that.