Kinnit was in a fine mood the rest of the morning, which powerfully annoyed Grimthorn. She hummed and rocked her head as she worked.

Not that he minded that she was happy-- he liked her being happy. But it bothered him deeply that she was happy because of that Lutrin flatterer.

Not that Kinnit didn't deserve to hear nice things about herself. Grimthorn frowned as he struggled internally. But it bothered him because the Lutrin-- Koro was his name?-- was just naturally charming. If Grimthorn tried to say those same things, it would sound weird and awkward, but at least he would mean them.

He realized he was staring at her again. He was about to drag his eyes away, but her brow furrowed.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"These quartermaster reports. They don't... look right."

"Is it about your console?"

"It's not just that... I can't make any of these numbers match up right."

Admiral Stonefist's stomach dropped. He had a feeling he knew what was going on, but he didn't want jump to conclusions.

"What's wrong with them?"

"Sir, I think... I hate to say it, I think something's wrong with the data in Logistics."

Grimthorn closed his eyes. Please, he thought, please don't be Jorya.

"Well, Assistant," he said, carefully keeping his voice level, "chase it down, let me know what you find."

"Yes, sir."

The hours ticked by. Grimthorn dawdled at his work, watching Kinnit out of the corner of his eye. She looked so intent, focused and determined. And as time rolled by and she collected more data, her expression grew more stormy.

Late that afternoon, she gathered her slips, stacking them briskly, and brought her scanner over to Admiral Stonefist's desk.

"I'm ready with a report on the quartermaster situation, sir," she said with a brisk salute and a firm frown.

He started guiltily. Slowly, he turned to face her.

"Yes, Assistant?"

"I don't want to make accusations out of turn, sir, but I believe one of the Supply Officers is doing something wrong."

"Go on," he said mildly.

"There is a Supply Officer whose data is consistently coming back incorrect, in specific ways. In ways that suggest... intent."

"Just say what you mean, Assistant."

Kinnit looked immensely uncomfortable, but she took a breath, set her jaw, and spoke.

"There are discrepancies between reports and inventory. I believe she's stealing goods, sir. Stealing them and fencing them. The goods that are disappearing are high-value and easy to sell. This behavior has been occurring for years. As far back as I could go in the records."

Grimthorn closed his eyes. He had to ask, even though he knew the answer already.

"Who is it?"

Kinnit looked at her sheet.

"Supply Officer Jorya Cohrmere."

Grimthorn sagged.

"Good work, Assistant," he said without real conviction.

Kinnit waited a moment for further communication. When none was forthcoming, she asked, "What should I do about this, sir?"

He nodded.

"How certain are you? Would you be willing to testify about this in a court-martial hearing?"

"Yes," she said, clearly and without hesitation. Her teeth ground, but her voice quieted. "In the Academy, I was accused of theft, several times. Sometimes, it was because I misunderstood what was okay to take. Sometimes, it was because... because people made assumptions about a Kobold. But once I knew it was wrong, that the Imperium was built around this concept of ownership and theft, I never deliberately took anything that did not belong to me. Never."

Her eyes sparked as steel entered her voice.

"Theft is inexcusable. My whole life, I never even knew that theft was a crime, until I joined the Imperium. And she's a Terran. She knows better. You Terrans learn that from birth." Slips crinkled in her hands as they formed into fists. "She knows better."

Grimthorn sighed heavily.

"Well, then. I suppose you should arrest her."

Kinnit started.

"Sir?"

"You're Military Police, aren't you?" he said, pointing at the badge she wore on her hip. "I did that primarily so you could carry a gun, but you also carry a badge."

"Oh. Yes, sir. I suppose you're right."

"Let's go."

"Now, sir?"

"Is there a reason to wait?"

"No, I just..." Kinnit trailed off, unsure. "It's all so fast."

He nodded.

"Life's that way, sometimes. How's your paperwork? Is it sufficient to submit as evidence?"

"Ah, in court? Um. I was preparing it for you, not for a hostile, um, lawyer."

"Okay. Take tomorrow to get your paperwork in order. Make it as clean and airtight as you can. We'll pick her up in the afternoon."

"Y-yes, sir."

He reached out to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder, but paused, his hand hovering inches from her. He briefly struggled with whether he should, but he wanted to so badly that he knew he should not. He withdrew his hand.

"You look troubled, Assistant."

"I just... it's so obviously wrong. Why would she do that?" Tears rimmed Kinnit's eyes. "It doesn't make any sense! Doesn't the Navy provide enough? Doesn't the Imperium?"

"People have many reasons for the mistakes they make. Sometimes the reasons make sense. Sometimes they only make sense to the person that makes them. Maybe tomorrow, if you have time, you can investigate further. Find a motive. For now, let's go get some rest."

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Kinnit nodded sadly.

"Yes, sir."

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

But as it turned out, they couldn't chase it down the following day; they had the next Council of Admiralty to attend. The meeting was on Admiral Cora Din's ship, the ISS Striker.

The air on board was more chill and unfriendly than that on the Swordheart. People walked by in a constant hurry, heads down and eyes either on their scanners or on the ground. No one looked around or gave a friendly greeting.

They arrived at the conference room. As before, Admiral Stonefist left her with the other Assistants, took a deep, calming breath, and entered.

"Hey, it's Kinnit," said Lieutenant Lena Solborne, Admiral Lander's Assistant.

"Hi, Kinnit!" said Lieutenant Daos, Admiral Balia's Assistant.

"Good morning," said Lieutenant Voth, Admiral Cora Din's Assistant.

"Hi, everybody!" she chirped. "How are you all?"

Lieutenant Voth gave a theatrical moan.

"I'm broke again. Counting the days until payday."

Kinnit's brow furrowed.

"Broke? You mean, you have no money? What happened?"

"Double Panels, that's what happened."

Kinnit's face twisted in confusion.

"I don't understand."

"He lost money at Gunner. Double Panels is what you call a pair of sixes."

"What does that mean? Is it some kind of investment?"

"No," moaned Voth. "It wasn't an investment, it was a sure thing! That woman had loaded dice, I know it!"

"Maybe you didn't see her switch them because your eyes weren't on the dice," snarked Lieutenant Solborne in her nasally, dreary voice.

"Gunner is a gambling dice game," Daos explained.

"Gambling?" Kinnit asked. "What's that?"

The rest of the Assistants shared a look.

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

Grimthorn sat quietly in the conference room, going over his notes. Or at least, staring at the scanner that held his notes. He was hoping Kinnit had been doing all right, out there alone with the other Assistants.

Old Admiral Balia sat across from him. Today's meeting had been tedious, but tedious was better than caustic. Cora Din and Lander had left already.

"Who is she?" Admiral Balia asked. Shock and guilt ran through Grimthorn at the question.

"Sir?"

Admiral Balia let out a gusty wheeze of laughter.

"Come now, young Grimthorn. I'm old, not dead. You were distracted today. Cora Din took two swipes at you and didn't get a rise. And when a man of your drive loses his focus like that, there can be only two reasons. And you haven't gotten a terminal diagnosis, have you?"

Admiral Stonefist reddened.

"You're awfully perceptive for a man of your age."

Balia smiled.

"It's useful, sometimes, for people to believe you're dumber than you are. So what's her name?"

"I... it's not like that."

"Oh, so she doesn't love you back? Or does she not even know?"

"She doesn't know," he said sulkily.

Balia nodded.

"You always were a shy one."

"But I can't-- I can't do anything. There's problems, we could never have a normal relationship, and I can't--"

"Do you think any relationship is normal?"

Grimthorn couldn't come right out and say that the relationship he wanted would be illegal. Even old Balia wouldn't be that understanding.

But in the little slices of time he'd had to himself to think over the last couple days, he'd found himself wondering... what if?

"It's just not possible," Grimthorn said. "But what if..." he paused. "What if it were possible?"

He looked at Balia pleadingly.

"I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Well, young Grimthorn, there are two ways to win a woman. You can make her laugh, or you can make her feel safe." The old Admiral grinned, then carried on in his scratchy, pale voice.

"We can scratch laughing off your list. I think your sense of humor was surgically removed at birth."

"What are you talking about? I have a tremendous sense of humor!"

"Okay, that one was almost funny," said Balia.

Grimthorn frowned and scrubbed his hands in his hair.

"I don't know anything about, about wooing a lady. Especially not someone like her."

"What do you mean, 'someone like her?'"

"We're total opposites. In just about every way."

"Most good women are. And what does she love already?"

"She loves the Imperium," Grimthorn said. "And reading space adventures. And singing."

"So you already know something about her, good. Listen carefully, young Grimthorn. All women are different, but all women love gifts. They love happy surprises. But above all women love to know that you're paying attention."

"Gifts. Surprises. Paying attention. Paying attention?"

"To her. Find ways to let her know you're thinking about her, you care about what she's thinking, what she's feeling."

"I see. Paying attention."

"That's right. And the more you do it, the easier it gets."

"Understood."

"And one other important thing, young Grimthorn."

"Sir?"

"At some point, she's going to start telling you about her problems. Are you listening?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now, your first instinct is going to be to tell her how to fix her problem."

"Of course. Why else would she tell me her problems?"

Admiral Balia shook his head.

"Above all, you must not tell her how to fix her problems."

Grimthorn's face screwed up in confusion.

"I'm sorry?"

"If a woman is telling you her problems, she wants you to pay attention, remember? She wants to know that you're listening, that you care about what's bothering her. Not that you want to fix it and move on."

Grimthorn sat in confusion.

"That... doesn't make any sense, sir."

"Because you're not a woman."

Grimthorn took a deep breath and shook his head. It didn't matter. It was a foolish dream. And this "paying attention" thing didn't make much sense, either. And even if he figured all that out, there was no guarantee that she would find him attractive or interesting. And, of course, the very high likelihood of a disastrous outcome.

But... what if?

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

He came out of the conference room thoughtful, and his eyes immediately sought out Kinnit.

Most of the other assistants had left already, only a pudgy young Lieutenant remained-- presumably, Admiral Balia's Assistant.

Kinnit stood in the Assistant's waiting area, looking scandalized. She rushed up to him as soon as he was clear of the door.

"Sir, do you know about 'gambling?'"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. I've tried it a bit myself, but I've never found it compelling. Why do you ask?"

"One of the other Assistants did some 'gambling' this weekend, and he lost all his money!"

"Mmhmm. That happens."

"But then they said it wasn't theft!"

"It's not, unless he was forced to play. Or unless somebody cheated."

"But sir, they took all his money! And it was important to him! But if he'd won, he'd have taken money away from the other person. Isn't that wrong? Isn't that theft?"

"Well, lots of people think it's wrong. It's easy to lose a lot of money gambling. But it's not illegal, if that's what you're asking."

She fell in beside Admiral Stonefist as he walked down the hall, looking somewhat traumatized.

"I don't understand it, sir."

"Then don't do it. That's probably for the best."

"Yes, sir."

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

They spent the following day preparing for the arrest of Jorya Cohrmere. Kinnit diligently prepared her paperwork, while Admiral Stonefist made some quiet inquiries and helped with the investigation.

"Oh, Jorya," he said, shaking his head.

"What's wrong, sir?"

"Apparently she started dating a Petty Officer a few months ago."

"The Navy tracks things like that?"

Admiral Stonefist carefully cleared his throat.

"Yes, when two officers who work together enter a relationship, they're required to file a notice with CenCom."

"That's a strange requirement," Kinnit said.

"There are reasons for it," he said. "The Navy wants to get ahead of things, if there might be accusations of favoritism. Or if things go spectacularly badly."

"Oh," Kinnit said, unconvinced. "But what does this Petty Officer have to do with anything?"

"Well, you know how we were talking about gambling yesterday? Apparently this young man has done it, a lot. He's been written up for soliciting the services of... unlicensed creditors."

"Sir? What are 'unlicensed creditors?'"

"Loan sharks. People who lend money to the desperate at ruinous rates."

Kinnit shook her head. She was still getting used to the concept of money, and she felt out of her depth with all this discussion of gambling and loans. But she understood well enough that the Petty Officer was desperate for money.

"So Jorya was stealing to help him get some money?"

"Probably," Grimthorn said. "But when you've got a problem with gambling, it's all too easy to keep going. Especially when someone's helping to fund you."

Kinnit nodded sadly. Intellectually, she understood the mechanisms, but the motivations were incomprehensible and opaque to her.

"Do you have your paperwork in order? We should go pick her up soon."

"I'm ready, sir." Kinnit stood. "Do you think she'll be... difficult? Will she get violent?"

Grimthorn stood. He looked filled with a bone-tiredness, a weariness that went deeper than the body.

"I don't think so," he said. "She's-- she'll be compliant."

Kinnit nodded, but made sure her gun was ready in her holster before they left.

It was a short trip to the quartermaster's office. They stood before her door. After a brief struggle within himself, Admiral Stonefist laid a hand on Kinnit's shoulder.

"Kinnit, I know how strongly you feel about this, but-- as a personal favor-- I'd ask you to be as kind as you can. This is going to be hard for everyone."

Kinnit realized her shoulders were tensed, and her teeth were clenched. She deliberately released the tension and took a deep breath.

"Yes, sir. I promise."

Admiral Stonefist touched the panel switch. The door hissed open. Grimthorn and Kinnit recoiled.

"Jorya, no!" he cried.