There was a long, horrible moment of silence while everyone stared at the collapsed debris.

"Find him!" Kinnit shrieked at the soldiers, and they scrambled to the debris. She forced her body upright and began throwing debris aside.

"Please," she whined into her mic as the breath sawed in and out of her lungs. "Please, Grimthorn, say something!" She pulled debris away as fast as she could, but the pile was so huge, and she was so small.

A gentle hand took her arm. She looked up in delight.

"Grimth--" But it was one of the scientists.

"You need to come away, dear," she said. "We have to check you for injury, and your suit for damage."

Kinnit yanked her arm away.

"No! Grimthorn's in there, and I have to help!" She started working on the debris again.

The scientist took a sharper tone.

"Assistant, you're not helping. The only thing you're doing right now is destabilizing the pile. You could cause it to collapse further. We've got engineers hot-dropping in a shuttle. They'll have heavy equipment and braces here in five minutes. You need to step back."

Kinnit ran down like an old toy, tears streaming behind the synthglass of her helmet. Trembling, she finally looked up at the scientist.

"But... he saved me, and I, I... I ran away from him!" She started bawling.

"Then you did the right thing. If I know the Admiral, that's exactly what he wanted you to do. Now come, let's get you checked out."

Kinnit finally allowed herself to be led away. But she would not move out of sight of the debris. The scientist led her back from the building a good distance. Kinnit sat, unresponsive, on the ground as the scientist ran diagnostics on her suit and felt for broken bones.

Her mind chattered, running on a broken loop, over and over.

He saved me. I ran away. He saved me. I ran away.

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

The engineering shuttles fell toward the surface of the miniplanet at top speed, blasting reverse retro at the last second. They landed with a crunch. A hatch in the back slammed down, and construction equipment immediately rolled out, headed for the debris.

Kinnit bolted to her feet as soon as they landed, but the scientist, having anticipated this, already had a firm but gentle grip on her arm.

"They're working as fast as they can," she said. "We all want to find the Admiral. There's nothing more you can do right now."

Kinnit sat down with ill grace and re-tuned her comms to pick up chatter from the military and engineering crews. She couldn't make out much useful through all the specialized terminology, but she listened anyway.

There was a sudden uptick in excited voices, and she popped to her feet again. Medics ran toward the debris pile.

Medics running was a good sign. If it were a corpse, they'd walk.

Another shuttle landed nearby. The scientist tugged at her.

"It's time to go," she said. "All non-emergency crew need to evac the surface."

"I have to know," Kinnit said. "I have to know if he's all right."

"We'll know as soon as we can," the scientist said gently. "But for now, we have to go."

Kinnit reluctantly boarded the shuttle. As it lifted off the surface, she could see the portion of the building where the roof had caved in. From up above, the damage looked almost trivial. But down there among the debris and dust, all her hopes and dreams lay, clinging to life.

She hoped.

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

Kinnit shifted her weight from foot to foot, standing outside the medbay. She was back in her uniform, which hid most of the bruising.

She fretted and waited. It had been fifteen minutes already. At long last a medic poked his head out.

"He's stable," said the medic.

"Where is he? I need to see him," she said.

"I think that right now he just needs rest," said the medic.

"Out of my way," she growled, pushing past him. He squawked indignation, but made no move to stop her.

She quickly found Admiral Stonefist. He was laid in a hospital bed.

She stood by his bed, looking at his ruined body. His left arm was in a cast, and every visible inch of skin was covered either with a bruise or a bandage. His face was a horror of damage: cauterseals criss-crossed his features, overlaying the older scars, and both eyes were black, making him look less his usual dependable, stern self and more like a criminal.

She'd shoved and shouted from the moment she'd gotten back on the ship, all to be here by his side, but now she didn't know why. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but she didn't trust her voice not to waver and betray her.

"There's my little troublemaker," he said quietly. His eyes were slitted open, and a crinkle of mirth graced their edges.

She gave a little laugh that was half-sob and took his good right hand.

"I'm so sorry, sir," she said. She squeezed her eyes shut, gripping his hand tightly. Hot tears plinked down on the backs of her hands.

"Kinnit..."

She forced her eyes open as he spoke.

"Y-yes, sir?"

"Could you not squeeze my hand so tightly? It still hurts."

"Oh!" Startled, she dropped his hand, which clunked on the railing of the bed.

"Ow," he said.

"Sir! I'm so sorry!" she said, flustered.

He chuckled weakly.

"It's fine. How are you?"

"I'm very well, sir. You... you saved me." She gripped her tail nervously. "I'm so sorry."

"Assistant, if you apologize again today, I'll give you a demerit."

"Yes, sir, I'm s-- I'll try."

He laid his large hand over hers.

"I'm glad you got out okay," he said.

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Unable to say anything, she only nodded.

"But maybe next time, don't push over the building."

She giggle-snorted and feigned slapping him.

"You're awful," she said.

"A merit to you for grasping the obvious."

"Sir... what can I do?"

"What do you mean?"

She gestured helplessly.

"How can I help... make up for this?"

"You can't," he said bluntly, his words strong in spite of his weak voice. "All you can do is know better next time." He thought quietly for a moment. "An upside is that I did get to repay you for one of the times you saved my life."

She shook her head.

"I never wanted--

"I know." Changing the subject to lighten the mood, he said "So were the scientists able to pull any data out of the outpost?"

"I... I don't know."

"Maybe you can focus on that for a bit, then. See if you can get a lead on what happened down there."

"Yes, sir."

A medic walked in, scanner in hand.

"How are you feeling, sir?"

"Pretty great, actually. My Assistant and I were just practicing cartwheels in here."

The medic paused, unsure how to respond.

"I'm fine, medic," Grimthorn said finally. "I'm in pain, but that's to be expected."

The medic nodded.

"Well, sir, I wanted to again offer the use of the biopod. It would get you fully healed in a day, perhaps two at the outside. And the results--"

"Medic, did you scan my right arm?"

"Sir?"

"Did you scan it? Is it functional?"

"Y-yes, sir? Your right arm is functionally sound, outside of some contusions and hematomas. It's your left arm that's broken."

"Right. So if you want to get me into the biopod, you'll need break the right one, too. Otherwise I'll crush your skull." He flexed his large hand. "In my youth, I could crush a Kyrillian coconut with one hand. I bet I could still get most of the way through your face."

Kinnit hid a small smile behind one hand as the medic backed up a step.

"Ah, noted, sir."

"And for future reference, I'm aware the biopod exists. I'm unlikely to forget it, and I'll be sure to mention if I ever want to get inside it again."

"Understood, sir."

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

Kinnit sat at her desk, staring off into space. Literally, in this case, gazing at the portal in Grimthorn's office. Her scanner lay before her, the data from Apus Theta outpost scrolling by, unheeded.

Her mind was back on the outpost, her mental field filled with the vision of Admiral Stonefist arched over her, holding back the debris pile from crushing her with his strength and pure will.

She felt very strongly that she did not need to be protected, but she realized, thinking back through events, that she liked being protected.

A warmth filled her chest as she thought of his powerful arms holding destruction at bay.

She realized, for the first time, that she was thinking of him as more than a commanding officer. More than an avatar of the Imperium. More than an ideal of honor and service.

She realized... he was a man. A fine, fit one.

She giggled a little-- it was fine, as long as she was by herself. It was ridiculous, of course. Even as a man, he was worlds beyond needing a relationship. As she'd told Lucy, it wasn't even a thing he'd think of or be interested in.

Her eyes stayed firmly fixed among the stars.

But... what if?

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

Sehren Senn seethed with rage as he paced violently around his apartment. His face was stormy and he muttered imprecations, calling down every curse he could think of on the head of Grimthorn Stonefist and his nosy Assistant.

The loss of Captain Caltrel had been tragic, but the loss of Jorya Cohrmere was a disaster. She'd been a faithful Hand and tool for many years. She'd understood discretion, and was an excellent and willing agent. The blackmail was hardly even necessary, as long as she could continue her quiet embezzlement. Dol was a poor replacement. He was too weak, too fearful, and too incompetent to be much use as a Hand.

That Assistant! Sehren flipped a coffee table in his fury, spraying imported tea across the lush carpet and shattering an elegant stasis mug worth a month's salary for a worker. He stomped over to the glass wall that dominated the living area of his apartment and looked out over the fog clinging to the streets of Techterra many floors below. In the distance, the needle spire of the Imperial Clarion headquarters rose proudly from the muck below, piercing the sky.

Sehren fumed. Everything had been going so well. Then Admiral Stonefist had gotten that, that Subject Species of all things. And she dug, and dug, and dug. She'd ruined so many of his plans. Admiral Stonefist certainly wasn't smart enough on his own to have figured everything out.

Well. In spite of Idrian's misgivings, this SS was enough of a problem that a permanent solution was called for. Not that Idrian was wrong: chances were high that Admiral Stonefist would figure out what was going on if another assassination were attempted on his ship. Besides, the only Hand he had left on the Swordheart was Dol, who was nowhere near competent enough to handle an assassination.

If it went poorly, it was entirely possible Admiral Stonefist would make enough noise to get the Emperor's attention on the matter.

So. He'd just have to figure out a way to remove both of them from the equation at the same time.

A deep sense of relief filled him at the thought of a world without Admiral Stonefist and his Assistant. Without them, nearly everyone else was either too lazy or incompetent to chase down clues. The few that weren't could be easily manipulated.

Yes, with that pair out of the way, there would be no more obstacles for his plan. He could remake the world in his own image.

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

Kinnit was working away studiously in the office the next morning, when the door opened with a muted "bong." Admiral Stonefist walked back into his office slowly, handling himself gently.

"Sir! You're back!" She leapt to her feet and dashed over to him. At the last second, she restrained herself from grabbing him in a tight hug. She stepped back carefully. She almost thought she saw a flash of disappointment cross his face, but it was probably just a shadow of pain as he'd braced for impact. His arm was still wrapped in a cast, but many of the bruises had already faded. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a building fell on me," he groused. "But pretty well, for all that. They've got me on quick-stitch meds. Hopefully this should be fixed up in a few days," he said, indicating his broken arm.

"Should you be out of bed?"

"Probably not," he admitted, sitting at his desk.

She set her fists on her hips and frowned at him.

"If I laid in that medbay any longer, my brain would have turned inside out from boredom," he explained. "Besides, I'm needed out here. Have you found anything out about Apus Theta outpost?"

She cast her eyes down.

"Yes, sir. The scientists were able to pull some activity logs from that console before..." she gestured at his arm in the cast. "The outpost ran on M45 energy cells."

"Makes sense. It's an older design, but functional."

"Yes, sir. But because of that, they had to bring a new cell in every couple days to power the outpost. The cells were stored in an open lot on the planet's surface."

"Sure, that's SOP."

"But they decided that it would be easier to bring in two at a time. Load one in the reactor, and keep the other in the outpost's storage room. That way they only had to suit up to go outside once a week."

Grimthorn's face took on a stern look.

"Those things have to be kept cold," he said. "Keeping them indoors is dangerous."

"Yes, sir. But they did it for a long time, apparently, without any problems. So eventually, I suppose someone figured it would be fine to bring in three or four at a time."

Grimthorn covered his eyes with his good hand.

"Oh, no."

"Yes, sir. We have to wait for more of the results from the lab, but most likely the M45 cells got too warm indoors, which started an exothermic reaction inside the cells, raising the temperature in the room. With more cells in storage, they raised the temperature in the room even more, which increased the exothermic reaction even more..."

"Until 'boom,'" he finished.

"Yes, sir."

He sighed heavily.

"Okay. Write up a safety brief to send to all the outposts and units still using M45s. Explain why we keep those things cold. Include some pictures from Apus Theta. Nothing too gory, but enough to get the point across."

"Yes, sir." She sat down at her desk.

He waved to get her attention, and tapped his ear meaningfully. "Also, Kinnit, I want you drop this research into all the Data Archive stuff. That's a waste of time. Probably just incompetent techs. Instead, take a look at the loading parameters for the torpedoes. Fire control has been slowing down lately, I want to understand why."

She opened her mouth to protest, but caught his meaning. The wire.

"I understand, sir."

"Good." And he turned to his console, and she to hers.

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

Admiral Stonefist stepped out of work early, just before lunch. He claimed the drugs were making him sleepy, but she could see the pain he was stifling. She didn't object, since she didn't think he should have been up and about in the first place.

She'd already sent out the safety brief, and was back combing through the data. She was focused on the security videos from the day before the attempted assassination. Lots of it was missing, but there were vast amounts of data remaining. She'd been going through the ship's roster, comparing the remaining uncorrupted security vids that day against each crew member, watching their movements.

The cameras were in all public areas: hallways, mess, and meeting rooms. And after going through the entire roster, and all the footage for that day, she deduced that there were only four people who didn't show up on video.

Two of them were cadets that called in sick, but footage from the previous evening showed that, more likely, they were recovering from a drinking contest.

The third person not on video was Kinnit herself.

And the fourth was Lieutenant Dol.

Her teeth clenched in fury and she stood to her feet, trembling with rage.

Rationally, she knew that the right approach was to wait for Admiral Stonefist to heal up and share this information with him.

Instead, she marched out of the office to confront Lieutenant Dol.