Captain Denth rubbed his hands together nervously. He was in a transport shuttle on his way to the Cryptographer's ship. Six marines sat with him on the shuttle, still in their exosuits, all heavily armed.

They were traveling to the Cryptographer's ship.

Denth didn't know whether to be honored or horrified that the Cryptographers had come all the way out to him instead of waiting for him on Techterra. A little bit of both, maybe.

Their shuttle was making a short hop between the ISS Swordheart and the Cryptographer's ship. They were being escorted by a squadron of fighters.

Once bitten, twice shy. After the incident with Caltrel, Grimthorn clearly was taking no chances.

Denth's right thumb kept rubbing the webbing between the first and second fingers of his left hand. He carefully separated his hands and shook his head.

Not yet. He didn't have to do that yet. Something could still happen. The conspi-- someone could rescue him. He could find a way to escape. Something could happen.

Something could. But the window for "something" was rapidly closing. He saw the looming mass of the Cryptographer's ship appear on the pilot's screen. An involuntary shudder ran through his body, and his thumb went back between his fingers, rubbing, rubbing.

Best not to think about it.

The shuttle docked carefully among the spires of the Cryptographer ship. The hatch opened, letting in the stale, cold air of the Cryptographers.

The Marines were unsettled, jumpy. Clearly they'd never been near Cryptographers before. They had their rifles out, and their suits fully powered up.

Not that Denth could blame them. He'd be in a powered-up exosuit too, if he could.

The Marines bustled him to his feet and onto the ship. A young officer greeted them.

"Broca Brangwin," the young man said, saluting gently. He looked pale, almost ethereal. His voice was soft, almost seeming disconnected from the man it came from. "I'll be facilitating your communication with the Cryptographers today. Welcome aboard."

He turned and walked further in. He walked with a slow, smooth gait that made him appear almost to float.

"Where do they find freaks to work with the Cryptos?" muttered one of the Marines. Sergeant Charr silenced him with a glare, but Brangwin didn't seem to mind, or even notice. He merely led them deeper into the ship.

Everything on the Cryptographer's ship was ornate, Gothic architecture. White marble and black stone abounded.

Brangwin led them to a chamber. It was ringed by alcoves. The marble floor was inlaid with brass, picking out strange, unsettling diagrams. A single, heavy chair sat in the middle of the room. Nearby stood a tall, lone Cryptographer, its talons resting on the back of the chair.

Brangwin gestured Denth toward the chair. Denth's knees locked up and refused to carry him forward.

"You Marines," said Brangwin. "Bring him to the chair."

After a long pause, Sergeant Charr signaled one of his men. They were both reluctant to enter the chamber, but the sooner they offloaded Denth, the sooner they could get away. They pushed him into the room and set him down roughly on the chair. The Cryptographer nodded to the Marines.

"Thank you," Brangwin said. "We have him in custody. You and your men may go."

The Marines departed. They didn't quite run, but they didn't quite not run.

The Cryptographer stood in front of Denth, with Brangwin standing to one side.

"The Cryptographer will ask you questions, now," Brangwin said.

Denth's heart was triphammering in his chest. His breath came in panicked heaves.

"I'm not saying anything," Denth gasped, his voice hoarse with terror. "I won't answer any questions."

Brangwin's face took on a sympathetic cast.

"Yes, you will," he said.

The Cryptographer chittered, its squeaky, clicking voice filling the chamber. Denth's eyes went white-rimmed, jerking, looking for a way out. His hands clung to the arms of the chair.

"The Cryptographer asks you to state your name."

Don't answer. Don't answer. All he had to do was not answer. Don't say anything, ever, and he would be fine.

"Eklin Denth," he said.

Denth's mouth hung open in horror. Brangwin looked at him sadly. Denth's voice had... simply not obeyed him.

With a tremendous effort of will, he pulled his hands away from the arms of the chair. He brought his hands together. His thumb found the webbing between his first two fingers, and he squeezed it with all his strength.

There was a crunch, a flash of indescribable pain, and Denth's vision went white. And his mind was flung four years into the past.

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

"The Bolt of Justice..." the figure said.

"Flies from the shadows," Denth responded.

"Welcome, friend." The figure was dressed in a dark robe. "Are you prepared to join us?"

"I am," Denth said, his back straight. "The Imperium needs her war. It will get her back on track. Put some strength back into her."

The hooded figure smiled.

"Be very sure," he said. "Everything up until now has been surface-level. If you would enter our councils, you must be prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice to maintain secrecy."

"I'm ready."

"And have you had the device installed?"

Denth wordlessly held up his left hand. The scar from the surgery was still fresh and red, in the webbing between his first two fingers. It was only as long as a grain of rice.

The dark figure nodded in satisfaction.

"What is it?" Denth asked. "A suicide chip?"

The dark figure chuckled.

"Nothing so crude, or easy to spot on a scan." He held up his own left hand, showing a faint, white scar between his own fingers. "Anyone who would enter the inner circle has one. It is a mnemonic gateway. Right now, it lies dormant on your nervous system. Once activated, it will take over the part of your brain responsible for memory recall. All our counsels, our secrets, even our very identities will be at protected by that little device."

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Denth looked dubiously at the wound on his hand.

"This little thing is going to hold all my memories?"

"Not quite. It only manages indexing and recall. Your brain still stores the information. But the mnemonic gateway is the only means of retrieving it. If you are ever captured, or forced to divulge information, simply break the gateway. Every memory formed since the activation will be gone."

Denth nodded slowly, understanding.

"So it's a memory wiper."

"More or less." The figure drew out a small device. "Are you prepared to activate it?"

Denth held out his hand.

"For our war. For the Imperium. All hail the Imperium."

"All hail."

The device touched his wound, and a a buzz sounded. Denth blinked. He was sitting in a wooden chair, with a Cryptographer standing in front of him. He let out a cry of fear.

"What happened? Where am I?"

The Cryptographer snatched up his left hand and looked closely at it. It chittered excitedly.

Another Cryptographer rushed in, then another, and another. The four Cryptographers clustered around him, filling the air with their horrendous chittering. Their face-tentacles whipped around in a frenzy.

"What are you doing? Who are you?"

The Cryptographers stopped speaking and looked down at him. One of them reached out and caressed his face lovingly with its long, black talons. His body tried to recoil, but his nerves wouldn't respond.

"A... puzzle," it croaked.

"Memory... without... recall," said another.

"What... a... beautiful... puzzle."

"A... delicious... challenge... to... disassemble."

They descended on him, while a sad, unhealthy looking young man stood quietly by.

"Oh, Denth," the young man said. "You would have been far better off just talking."

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

Admiral Stonefist nodded to the assembled Assistants. Kinnit handed him his scanner and took his stasis mug of coffee. Grimthorn took a deep breath and walked into the Council of Admiralty.

As soon as all the Admirals were out of sight, the Assistants clustered around Kinnit, startling her.

"Did you really escape a black hole?" Lieutenant Voth asked, leaning into her personal space.

"What was it like?" Lieutenant Daos asked, examining her minutely, as though he might find traces of black hole still stuck to her clothes.

"That's pretty hardcore," Lieutenant Solborne said, nodding in approval. "You look like a creampuff, but I wouldn't lay odds against you."

Kinnit laughed and backed up. They kept peppering her with questions until she had to recount the entire incident again.

"How did you calculate the shuttle's mass?" Solborne asked her once she was done.

"Ah, I used the onboard diagnostics to calculate the fuel remaining, and pulled the specs from the shuttle's database."

Solborne nodded.

"That's wild."

"You mean you calculated the orbital burn in your head?" Lieutenant Daos asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"No, no, I used the shuttle's console to do the calculations."

"Yeah, but those things don't have the orbital mechanics functions built in. And no visualizations."

"It's just numbers," Kinnit said uncomfortably.

"See, Voth," Solborne said, "you won't always have an orbital calculator handy. You should learn those formulas."

"I think I'd rather fall into a black hole, honestly," Voth said.

They laughed and carried on while the Admirals met.

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

Grimthorn seated himself carefully in the conference room. There was a slightly different air in the room today.

They got through the opening administrivia. There was always a slight moment, a pause after the routine, where anybody who felt they had something important to say could speak up.

Admiral Cora Din pushed back her chair and stood.

"I want to make some comments about the recent activity in the Devaris sector."

Admiral Stonefist forced back a grimace, keeping his face smooth.

He'd promised Kinnit he would be better. He'd spent some time thinking through what that meant, and he'd realized that part of it was not letting people get under his skin so easily. Even people like Admiral Cora Din.

If this was the price of doing his job, of saving citizens, then so be it.

He would be better.

Admiral Cora Din cleared her throat.

"I want to formally thank Admiral Stonefist for his actions in the Devaris sector."

Grimthorn's mouth dropped open.

"He saved the Fifth Fleet from committing a terrible atrocity." She swallowed heavily. "I've spent a great deal of time lately thinking about what would have happened if he had not intervened. My fleet, we would have--" She swallowed again and took a moment to regain her composure. "Thank you, Admiral. I've filed for a formal commendation for your office."

"Ah," Grimthorn said. He had to mentally adjust. "Ah. Th-thank you, Admiral Cora Din. I appreciate the recognition, but really, it was my Assistant, Kinnit, who led us to the source of the problem. Without her, our intervention would have been... very costly."

Admiral Dermot snorted.

"Yes, we've all heard these, these fabulist tales floating around about your Assistant. Frankly, I find the whole thing bordering on ridiculous. I suspect she made it up to get some attention."

Grimthorn tensed.

"I suspect you should shut your mouth, Admiral Dermot," Admiral Cora Din said. Grimthorn's eyebrows popped up.

Did prim, prissy, paperwork-loving Cora Din just tell Admiral Dermot to shut up?

Dermot spluttered.

"Now see here," he said.

"You're ignorant," Admiral Cora Din said. "You weren't there. I was. I believe every word of it."

Admiral Dermot seethed in silence.

Grimthorn gave the table a moment for the tension to dissipate.

"So," he said, breaking the silence. "I've been thinking that Kinnit deserves a medal for her actions in Devaris sector..."

"That is unlikely to happen," Admiral Cora Din said.

Grimthorn took a deep breath, reeling back the first response that came to his lips.

"Why is that?" he asked mildly.

"CenCom won't allow it," she said. "Techterra is undergoing some unrest lately. There's a contingent of the city that feels as though Techterra should be free of Subject Species entirely."

"What? Why?"

She turned fully to Admiral Stonefist.

"This is why you should pay attention to the news," she said. "As Techterra is the home of CenCom, there are, naturally, concerns about security. There have been some incidents lately involving SSes. It's led to some demonstrations, counter-demonstrations and so forth. Have you not been aware of any of this lately?"

Grimthorn tried to look past her tone. Probably she didn't mean to sound that snotty.

"I've been... preoccupied," he said.

"Well, the incidents and demonstrations have the populace riled up about SSes. CenCom will not want to inflame tensions by publicly awarding an SS a medal."

"But none of that has anything to do with Kinnit's bravery!"

"And what she did has nothing to do with Techterra. They're responsible for the peace of the city. They don't care about who deserves what medals. They care about calming down the political problems they have right now."

Grimthorn gritted he teeth. Admiral Cora Din was right. That was exactly the kind of soft-spined decision a bunch of landbound bureaucrats would make.

He took a breath.

"Very well. What you say makes sense. That being the case, perhaps you could give me a hearing about... a favor."

"Certainly."

"Your utility shuttle. The one Kinnit escaped in. I was wondering if we could work out an arrangement to have it transferred to the Ninth Fleet."

Admiral Cora Din raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't think you were the 'trophy' type."

"It's for Kinnit. She's developed an attachment to it. I thought it might be a nice little reward for her."

Admiral Cora Din thought for a moment. Then she smiled.

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

Admiral Stonefist sat in the conference room afterward, making his notes on his scanner. Admiral Balia had been snoozing, off and on, during the meeting, but now he was fully awake.

"So. Your Assistant, eh?" old Admiral Balia said.

"Sir?" Grimthorn said, pretending to be focused on his notes.

"You know that's illegal, right?" Balia said.

The scanner clattered to the table from Grimthorn's suddenly nerveless fingers.

"S-sir?"

"A relationship with an SS. That's illegal."

"I'm not-- I don't--"

"Young Grimthorn, I'm old, not stupid. Don't insult my intelligence."

"I haven't-- haven't said anything to her. I won't. It will never go anywhere."

"Okay, you're not old, and you are stupid."

Grimthorn put his head in his hands.

"Is it so obvious?"

"If you know what to look for, yes. Facing down Cora Din to gift her a shuttle? For sentimental reasons? I suppose it's possible for you to have been more obvious. Theoretically."

"I should just forget about it."

"Can you?"

"I didn't say I could. Just that I should."

Balia grinned.

"Fair enough," he said.

"She just... she makes me want to be a better man. A better Admiral. A better citizen. She makes me want to be the man that she thinks I am."

Balia nodded.

"A good woman changes a man for the better. Sometimes I think it's the only thing that ever does."

"But I don't know where to go from here," Grimthorn said.

"I think you do," Balia said. Grimthorn lifted his head from his hands and looked at him. "Think about your first lesson. What are you prepared to sacrifice?"

Grimthorn sat quiet for a long moment.

"Everything but her," he said finally.