The ISS Swordheart sat parked partially in the main cannon of the Oryndrax hiveship.

"Now I can't shoot you and you can't shoot me," Admiral Stonefist said.

"Sir!" Lieutenant Renning called. "They're backing up!"

"Lieutenant Phet, match velocity and orientation. As big as the Swordheart is, we're still more nimble than that beast."

"They've stopped, sir."

Long, tense minutes of silence stretched out on the bridge.

"Show me how much you care about what you've got on your ship," Grimthorn said. "Blink."

"Sir!" Kinnit cried. "The battleship detachment reports that the Oryndrax fighters have broken off!"

"All ships, hold fire. If they start shooting again, re-engage, but for now, hold fire."

The battle calmed.

"Get some towships out, get our disabled vessels evac'd. Move the fleet to the exit jumphole. And get those torpedo shuttles prepped."

"Grimthorn, how are we going to get out of this?" Kinnit asked. "Even if we get the whole fleet to safety, there's nothing to keep the Oryndrax from blowing the Swordheart up once we move away from them."

"Good question. I'm open to ideas."

The long, quiet minutes stretched out. Kinnit was reviewing the data coming in from the scans while they waited for the towships to get their disabled vessels to safety.

Admiral Stonefist was glaring at glowing cannon reactor on the main screen, as though he were holding the whole reactor still with his steely gaze.

"Grimthorn," Kinnit said, a catch in her voice. "Look at these scans of their homeworld."

Grimthorn glanced at the data and his mouth tightened.

"Grimthorn, it's dead. There's not a single plant left on the surface."

"What happened?"

"It's not clear. There's no sign of catastrophe, sir. No disease markers, no meteor craters, nothing. I think... they may have just eaten everything."

"The bugs need shade, moisture, and food," Grimthorn said. "Plants give them all that. If they ate up all their plant cover, though, that would be an existential threat."

Grimthorn nodded, as he began to understand.

"That's how the conspiracy could control them. They offered the bugs a chance at a new homeworld. This hiveship is all they've got left." He shook his head. "Not a hiveship. It's an arkship. They're all that's left of the Oryndrax."

"That's so sad!" Kinnit looked on the verge of tears.

"It may be terrible, but they've done it to themselves."

Kinnit set her jaw and began going through some data on the console. She found what she was looking for and pulled it up on the display.

"Sir, maybe... this?"

Grimthorn looked down and smiled. He laid his hand on her back.

"This is why I need you, Kinnit. Comms, broadcast this data to the Oryndrax hiveship."

The comms officer nodded and began transmitting.

Floating in front of Kinnit's console was a diagram for an Imperial Terraforge, a ship designed with all the technology needed to convert a marginal planet into a livable one. Soil enhancers, moisture reclaimators, and seeds of a hundred thousand types of plants.

"The Oryndrax could use one of these to re-seed their world, make it livable again, sir. It would take years, maybe decades, but they'd have a second chance at going home."

Grimthorn smiled and rubbed her back.

"We'll see if they like the idea. Let's get an emergency requisition started for a Terraforge."

"Sir," Kinnit said, tapping rapidly at the console.

After a few minutes, the Oryndrax sent back a set of data: genetic code for a variety of large, low plants with broad leaves.

"Their homeworld's plants. They're showing us what they need."

At the same time, the glowing orange of the cannon reactor they faced began to dim. Over the course of several minutes, it faded and went out. A collective sigh of relief could be heard across the bridge once it was dark.

The Oryndrax fighters returned to the hiveship in slow stream, docking in folds and nooks on the surface of the vessel.

"Start moving the fleet out of this sector," Grimthorn said. "I think we have an understanding. Let me know when we can get that Terraforge in here."

"The ISS Verdant Aether is already on its way, sir."

"Excellent. Send them the plant specs from the Oryndrax. They can start searching for suitable replacements."

The Ninth Fleet began leaving the Oryndrax sector.

"Torpedo shuttles are ready, sir," Lieutenant Renning called. "We've double-checked, all jumpholes marked for closure are clear of vessels."

"Check again. Then let's start closing off those jumpholes."

Soon, the quantum disruptors streaked from the tiny shuttles. They flared, too bright to look at, and the jumpholes in the sector began destabilizing.

"Oh, shoot, one more thing," Grimthorn said. He pulled up a diagram of a Vylar fighter. "Comms, send that to the bugs. Let's find out what we should do about the bugs in the Vylar fleet."

A minute later a simple image came back: a fat, red "X".

"Well, I guess we still need to clean up that mess," Grimthorn said.

"Why don't they want their people back?" Kinnit asked.

"No telling," Grimthorn replied. "Maybe they went rogue. Maybe the Oryndrax think it's a sop to us. Maybe they just don't care about them. I'm just as happy to not know anything more about the Oryndrax than I have to."

Kinnit gazed sadly at the Oryndrax homeworld, floating brown and sterile in the cold harshness of space.

"I bet it was beautiful, once," Kinnit said.

Grimthorn smiled indulgently.

"Only you would think that way, Kinnit," he said, and the look in his eyes finished the sentence: and I love you for it.

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

The ISS Swordheart delicately disentangled itself from the Oryndrax hiveship, and turned slowly toward the only remaining jumphole in the Oryndrax sector. ISS Verdant Aether was already orbiting the Oryndrax homeworld, scanning the surface and running calculations. The battleship ISS Oblivion stayed behind to watch over the Verdant Aether-- just in case-- but the bugs behaved themselves.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

"Good work, Kinnit. And you as well, Lieutenant Phet. You're welcome to helm the bridge any time."

The console blipped. Grimthorn looked down and sagged.

"Well, time to pay the piper," he sighed. "The penalty for success showed up sooner than expected."

"Sir?" Kinnit asked. "What happened?"

"I've been summoned to CenCom to debrief about the Oryndrax operation."

"Already? We literally just finished!"

"That's how you know somebody's upset about it. 'Bad news wears running shoes.'"

Kinnit frowned at the console, puffing her cheeks out.

"Well, that's not fair," she fumed.

"Kinnit, you just described my entire career." Grimthorn gave her a half-smile. "So, how would feel about a vacation to Techterra?"

"If it's all the same, sir, I'm good on vacations for a bit."

A sound followed, one that had not been heard on the bridge in living memory.

Grimthorn barked a laugh. Every head on the bridge turned to stare at him.

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

A few days later, Kinnit and Grimthorn made their way through the crowded Navy spaceport. Kinnit was used to the crowds on the Swordheart parting in front of Grimthorn, but nobody in the spaceport on Ceon 12 was even paying them any attention. They were jostled and knocked around along with everyone else as confused passengers darted from gate to gate, trying to find their next departure point. The main port was a large, open room, but it was crowded and dirty. Kinnit tried her best not to touch anything.

"You'd think the primary spaceport for CenCom would be a little more... organized," Kinnit said. She generally liked crowds and the press of people around her, but the crowd here was rough, rushed, and inconsiderate.

"It's a planetary spaceport," Grimthorn said. "Managed by the government of Ceon 12. The Navy spaceport is in the city of Techterra. It's about a 50 minute drive to get to Techterra from here."

"So why didn't we land in Techterra, then?"

"Because someone at CenCom wants to send a message. So this is where we were cleared to land."

Kinnit frowned. She was beginning to understand Grimthorn's love for bureaucracy.

"We'll get a bus into Techterra," he said. "We just have to find a terminal."

They found a terminal and lined up to get tickets. When they finally got to the front, they were informed that all the busses were full for the rest of the day. They found another bus line, endured another interminable wait, and got the same message.

"Are all the busses full for the day?" Kinnit wailed.

"We'll try another," Grimthorn said. "I want to get into Techterra today if at all possible."

They got in line for a third terminal. They were patiently waiting, when Grimthorn went rigid.

"Don't look over there," he said, turning to the side.

"Over where?"

"Don't look!"

"Oh!" a cry rang out across the spaceport, piercing the murmuring of the crowd. "Oh! It is my man! It is! The! Grim! Thorn!"

Grimthorn put a hand over his face.

Kinnit turned to see a bulky man walking toward them, waving widely enough to hazard other pedestrians. He was covered with fur, and he had a pointed head with black bands over the eyes. With his badger-like features, he was clearly a Duroclade.

Grimthorn clenched his teeth and turned, a false smile fixed on his face.

"Dass," he said. "I... very much did not expect to see you here."

"It's been too long, too long, my friend!" His voice boomed, drawing every eye in the spaceport.

"I'm surprised it wasn't longer. Weren't you in prison?"

"Grimthorn, I'm insulted! You know me better than that! No prison can keep the great Dass Gunstar bottled up!"

"Dass, are you sure you want to confess a prison break to the Admiral of the Ninth Fleet?"

Dass cleared his throat and chuckled.

"Time off for good behavior, is what I meant to say. And who is this bewitching young lady with you?"

Dass reached out and snagged Kinnit's hand, bringing it to his lips.

"What may I call you, my dear?" he asked.

"You can call me... not interested," she said coolly, withdrawing her hand.

Dass laughed too loudly. Grimthorn cut in.

"Dass, this is my Assistant, Kinnit. Kinnit, this is Dass Gunstar, a... an associate."

"I'm sure you're much more reputable than you look," Kinnit said, nodding.

Dass laughed again.

"I'm a cargo man by trade," he said, bowing smoothly. "If you need something moved from one place to another, well, that's my business." Dass looked at the line for the bus terminal. "If I may say, I think I see something that needs moving. The busses are all full. Where are you two trying to get to?"

Grimthorn's face took on a longsuffering cast.

"We're trying to get to Techterra."

"On a bus? That'll work, if you want to get there next week. Come, join me! I'm taking a shipment to Techterra tonight! You and your lovely Assistant can ride along! I'll have you there by nine o'clock!"

Grimthorn paused, clearly torn.

"That... would be kind of you."

"For a trip charge, of course. Man, we'll have so much fun catching up!"

"I'm breathless with anticipation," Grimthorn said flatly.

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

Dass bustled them out of the spaceport, across to the cheap parking, and over to his vehicle. It was almost exactly what Kinnit expected: a rattling box truck that looked as though it had collided with a space freighter. Some sketchy looking crab-like creatures scuttled away as they approached.

"Here we go. Both of you can ride in the cab, it's plenty roomy. Would you like some help up, my dear?"

"I can manage," Kinnit said shortly.

They arranged themselves in the vehicle, and Dass managed to get it started on the third try. They unwrapped the sandwiches they'd picked up from a street vendor and ate as Dass drove.

"Well look at that," Dass said. "The famous Admiral Stonefist eats. And here I thought he was just powered by a ship's reactor. So what brings you to Techterra?"

"Typical CenCom nonsense," Grimthorn replied around his food. "Ordren is posturing, so he feels the need to chew on me for a bit."

"Mmm. Nothing to do with the recent trouble?"

"Probably not. I haven't really been paying attention to the news much. Something with the SSes?"

Dass looked sideways at Kinnit. She looked at him with growing concern.

"How much does she know?"

"Nothing, yet. Would you mind if I tell her?"

Dass shrugged.

"I trust you, man. If you say she's good, then she's good."

Grimthorn nodded.

"Kinnit, Dass is my ear to the ground in Techterra. He acts like a smuggler and a crook, but he's actually employed by the Imperial Navy."

"Ah, correction," Dass said. "I am a smuggler and a crook. Pretty hard to build a rep as a smuggler if you don't smuggle from time to time."

Grimthorn nodded.

"In any case, he works for Navy Intelligence. He's very good at what he does for the Imperium. Even if he is a borderline pirate."

"Oh, hey, hey, let's not use the p-word," Dass said. "I know about you and p-words."

"O-oh," Kinnit stammered. "I'm sorry. I-- you must think I'm very rude."

Dass laughed.

"No, I think my cover is good. If you fell for it, then that makes me happy."

"I'm very sorry for being cold to you."

Dass waved it off.

"No worries! Dass deserves to get set down from time to time." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Of course, if you really wanted to make it up to me, my dear..."

"Still not interested," she said.

"Despite how he looks," Grimthorn said, "he's also not a Duroclade. Go ahead and show her, Dass. I know you love showing off."

Dass grinned, his badger-like features widening.

"I don't know what you mean, Grimthorn," he said, his smile unnaturally wide. "Show off what?" The smile widened further, impossibly wide. He leered at Kinnit, his smile stretching, splitting his head. The top of his head bubbled and collapsed into his neck like a puddle of melting gelatin.

Kinnit shrieked.

"Okay, Dass, stop, that's gross. You make that worse every time."

"Man's gotta have a hobby," Dass burbled.

Kinnit was hyperventilating.

"You're one of the slime-men," she said, panting. She was pressed against the far door of the truck. "Y-you're all supposed to be registered!"

"Okay, now that was rude. We prefer the term 'Mucilagean.'"

"You were the one who made it weird, Dass," Grimthorn said. He turned to Kinnit. "Yes, Dass is a shapeshifter. And he's registered. I'm sure you can see how useful it is to have a shapeshifter working intelligence."

"But, but... they're not safe," she said.

Grimthorn frowned.

"They're as safe as you are," he said. "They've gotten a bad rap from cheap movies and thriller novels. Kinnit, do you remember when we talked about who you should go to if anything happened to me? Who you could trust?"

"You told me to go to Admiral Balia."

"That's right. Well, second on the list is Dass here."

"Trust a sl-- trust him?"

Grimthorn laid a hand on hers.

"Kinnit, if you have any faith in me, trust Dass."

Kinnit nodded dubiously.

"I-- I'll try."

"How's Techterra doing?" Grimthorn asked, turning back to Dass, who had re-formed his head, much to Kinnit's relief.

Dass' good mood evaporated.

"It's bad, man. As bad as I've seen. There's a new SS attack almost every night."

"What's got them worked up?"

"Well, it's not all the SSes. There's this group, the Electroveil Collective. They're causing most of the problems. They say they speak for the SSes, but nobody supports what they're doing."

"CenCom security hasn't put a stop to it yet?"

"Can't, man. CenCom's got uniforms up and down every street, but they've turned up nothing so far. Funny thing is, Electroveil's been a gang since forever, but they were just grifters and petty thieves, handling simple vice. Recently, though, they're getting clever. The rank-and-file are still local troublemakers, but they plan their activities very quietly, and hardly leave any evidence behind. CenCom's stumped."

"Hmm. Troublemakers that are suddenly making smart moves. That tune sounds familiar."

"Sir, do you think the conspiracy is behind this unrest?"

"Could be. I'm not sure what they'd get out of it, though. However much trouble is on the streets of Techterra, it doesn't much affect the people's perception of the Imperium as a whole."

Dass broke in.

"Grimthorn, be careful, man. Techterra is not safe for anybody, but especially you. The Navy is super-not-popular right now."

"I'll be incognito."

"Grimthorn, if you were naked and painted green, you'd still look like Imperial Navy."

Kinnit giggled.

"I'll be careful," Grimthorn said.