Broca Brangwin stood before the Emperor, his eyes vacant and his face slack.

"Hello, Lieutenant Brangwin," the Emperor said. "I hear you've been doing good work with our Cryptographers."

"I suppose," Brangwin said absently. "Your majesty," he appended.

They were assembled in one of the small ornate meeting halls on board the Cryptographers' ship. Marble columns and flying buttresses tried to lend a grand air to the hall, but deep shadows lurked in every nook and cranny, and the air itself felt staticky and unpleasant.

Thirteen Cryptographers surrounded the pair, Emperor and Lieutenant, watching silently, their writhing face-tentacles stilled in anticipation.

The Emperor frowned.

"How long has he been like this?" he asked.

One of the Cryptographers chittered a response.

"No, it's not normal. Longer than is safe, in any case. He does seem resilient to the change, though." The Emperor leaned close to Lieutenant Brangwin. "How long have you been working with the Cryptographers?" he asked in the loud, overly-clear voice one uses with children and speakers of foreign languages.

"How long?" Brangwin asked. "What is time? Time is meaningless."

Worried lines creased the Emperor's brow.

"Is he too far gone?"

The assembled Cryptographers skittered and muttered amongst themselves.

"Yes, yes, I know," said the Emperor. "But we still need the kernel, the 'Brangwin-ness' of him for it to work." The Emperor thought for a bit. "Perhaps if you all move away. Give him some space."

Concerned clicking and chittering filled the hall.

"No, I'll hear no more about it. You lot clear out, give me some time with the boy. I'll be fine."

Reluctantly, the Cryptographers withdrew, repairing themselves to the far end of the ship. The oppressive psychic weight of their presence dampened, diminished, and finally vanished.

The Emperor carefully watched Lieutenant Brangwin.

Brangwin's eyes came back into focus, slowly returning from the distant galaxy they'd been residing in these last few weeks.

"Lieutenant Brangwin?" the Emperor said. "Can you understand me? Do you know where you are?"

Understanding sluggishly spiraled into Brangwin's eyes. As his brain finally re-engaged, he gasped and immediately dropped to the floor, kneeling and splaying his arms out before him.

"Y-your Majesty!" he cried.

The Emperor smiled indulgently.

"Rise, please, young Brangwin. Come, sit, and speak with me."

"I would not dare," Lieutenant Brangwin said, his face pressed fully into the cold marble tiles of the floor. "What could I say to the Emperor of the Imperium?"

The Emperor harrumphed. He went and sat in one of the chairs at the low, round table.

"Very well, as Emperor of the Imperium, I order you to rise, take a seat, and speak with me."

Brangwin rose slowly, shakily, like a man lifted with puppet strings. With his eyes fixed to the floor, he scuttled over to the nearest chair and seated himself on the foremost edge, ready to fling himself back on the floor at a moment's notice.

The Emperor gave him a wry look.

"I don't suppose it would do any good to order you to relax?"

"I will try, your Majesty," Brangwin said in a quiet voice.

"I want to talk with you, Lieutenant. Ask you some questions."

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Tell me. What do you think of the Imperium?"

"It is glorious and majestic, your Majesty, a fitting reflection of your glory." He trembled, as though he were anxious to return to the floor.

"Do you know what I value most in my subjects, Lieutenant Brangwin?" The Emperor stood and walked over to the terrified young man. "Look up and answer me, please."

Brangwin reluctantly raised his eyes, fixing them on the Emperor's chin. Try as he might, he could raise them no higher.

"Y-you value loyalty, your Majesty."

The Emperor nodded.

"Loyalty is critical, this is true. But above loyalty I value honesty. If you are honest with me, no harm will come to you, I promise. Can you be honest with me?"

Eyes wide with alarm, Brangwin nodded jerkily.

"I will do my best, your Majesty."

"Very good. Now tell me, what do you think of the Imperium?"

Brangwin trembled, and his jaw locked as he tried to speak. Slowly, he worked his jaw and throat until he could get the words out.

"It is beautiful and glorious but flawed," Brangwin squeezed out in a horrified whisper.

"Very good, I appreciate your honesty very much." The Emperor nodded. "And in your opinion, what is wrong with the Imperium?"

Another long pause while Brangwin forced himself to respond.

"It is full of corruption, self-serving people, leeches and parasites," he managed.

"Very good. How serious is the problem?"

"Very, your Majesty. It is a threat to the very fabric of the Imperium."

"You're right. The Imperium faces a grave peril. How does that make you feel?"

Fat tears filled Brangwin's eyes, overflowing and dropping to the floor as he stared fixedly at the Emperor's chin.

"I wish it were not so," Brangwin said. "I wish the Imperium could continue forever.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Why?"

"She is the greatest good in the galaxy. She is the most glorious empire. The jewel of the universe."

"Tell me, young Brangwin, do you think Imperium can be saved? Or is she destined for a long, slow decline into disintegration and decay?"

"I think the fall of the Imperium is inevitable," Brangwin said quietly. "I can only hope it does not happen in my lifetime."

The Emperor smiled sadly

"Can nothing be done, then?"

"Not by me."

"Why not?"

"I'm weak. Powerless. Selfish. Short-sighted."

The Emperor sat back in his seat. He sighed heavily.

"Brangwin. Please look at me. In the eyes."

With a tremendous effort of will, Brangwin forced his eyes to the Emperor's. On the surface, they were kindly, wrinkled around the edges and dark brown. But in their depths hid an ocean of memory, a terrible strength, and an immovable resolve. Brangwin's heart quailed within him.

"Broca Brangwin, what would you say if I told you that I can give you an opportunity to save the Imperium?"

"It would be an honor beyond words," he replied, his voice hoarse.

"This opportunity would exact a terrible price from you. Worse, by far, than anything you can possibly imagine."

Broca Brangwin, facilitator to the Cryptographers, stood shakily to his feet, keeping his eyes fixed to the Emperor's. Slowly he saluted.

"My all for the Imperium," he said. "All hail the Imperium!"

The Emperor smiled.

"All hail," he replied.

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

Lieutenant Voth woke, muzzy and confused. His blankets were twisted around his legs, and his curly hair was messy. He blinked at the darkness.

Why was he awake?

His scanner beeped again.

He popped it on. The time glared at him, "0320". He swiped it away and looked at the message, squinting against the sudden brightness. His face twisted in confusion.

"What does Kinnit want at this hour?" he muttered.

His confusion didn't lessen any as he read her message.

Why did she want berth for a Navy shuttle on a commercial vessel?

Commercial transport for Navy vessels was not unheard of. As Assistant to Admiral Cora Din of the Fifth Fleet, Lieutenant Voth certainly had the access to look up and requisition a civilian vessel for Naval purposes, but so did Kinnit.

And why didn't she want Grimthorn to know? Weird.

He shrugged and tapped out a quick message back. Then he laid back down on his bunk. He'd set it up tomorrow morning.

Whatever Kinnit needed, he was sure it was for a good reason.

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

Kinnit smiled at Voth's reply. She turned off her scanner and slid it back into her pocket. She sat with her knees under her chin and looked up at the stars.

The stars on Takkar winked and twinkled in a way they didn't in space. In space, they were austere, beautiful, and cold, like a handful of gemstones scattered across black velvet. Here on Takkar, though, they were friendly and playful, telling her stories with their constellations, shifting and glimmering in the black sky. The heavy humidity of Takkar made the stars especially lively.

Down here, she could forget all the dry details, the fact that many of the pinpricks of light were actually galaxies or other planets, that the turbulence of the atmosphere causing the twinkling. She could forget all of that and see at the legends in the night sky: Hammar of the trees, Blacktail the deceiver, and, of course, Ulther the hunter.

So many of the Kobolds of legend were clever tricksters or charlatans, thinking their way around strong opponents or talking their way out of trouble. Kobolds were not strong, so they survived with their brains.

Kinnit was perched on the end of Lookout Rock. She stretched her legs in front of her and giggled. Kinnit Longlegs. Perhaps someday she would have a constellation, too. Perhaps, if she could bring her people to the stars. She laid a hand on the slim gold collar fused to her neck.

She gazed deep into the forest. During the day, the woods were cool and dim, dappled by the sun that filtered through the broad leaves overhead. Kobolds could hunt through the brush, foraging for tasty roots or wood mice to supplement their crops. Or mushrooms. Kinnit's mouth watered a little at the thought of a barley-mushroom stew. She hadn't had that since she'd stepped out on her first assignment. Maybe she'd ask if they could make some tomorrow.

During the day, the vast woods provided food, but at night they turned dangerous. Cat-bears roamed freely, and further in lurked larger, deadlier monsters. Kinnit shuddered.

Soon the weather would turn cold, and predators would creep out of the woods, driven by hunger to try for a taste of Kobold. Traditionally, the Kobolds made every mouthful expensive for the predators, but now, with weapons from the Imperium, the could repel the cat-bears entirely. Certainly the trophy pit should be more impressive now.

She got to her feet and walked back along the exposed grey spur of Lookout Rock and headed for the trophy pit, her curiosity piqued.

The trophy pit was where Kobolds displayed their greatest predator kills. It was stationed far enough away from Home Cave that it wouldn't attract vermin, and the bodies were artistically arranged where everyone could appreciate the view of dead cat-bears rotting away instead of eating Kobolds.

She picked her way down the path toward the trophy pit. She wished she'd had time to show Grimthorn the trophy pit; it was a point of particular pride among the Kobolds.

She gasped as she entered the familiar ravine. The heavy bodies of cat-bears were lined up, nose to tail, nearly all the way around the ravine, balanced carefully on the bleached bones of their predecessors.

She'd never seen so many large, fresh bodies in the pit. Truly the weapons of the Imperium were a blessing. Every dead cat-bear was a living Kobold.

With a bounce in her step, she returned to Home Cave. She crept in quietly, trying not to disturb anyone. The surface of Home Cave was the same grey color as Lookout Rock. The interior had the distinctive smell of wet stone, overlaid with the smells of burning fires, old food, and sweaty Kobolds. It was sparsely decorated with interesting sticks, small constructs made of bones, and the occasional animal skin that had an interesting pattern.

Piles of sleeping Kobolds were scattered throughout the cave on the mossy floor. Piles of leaves made beds for groups of ten to twenty Kobolds.

Kinnit burrowed into the sleep pile nearest the cave entrance, disturbing those who were already snoozing. She nestled in among the warm bodies, turning herself so she could stare out of the cave at the little sliver of sky visible from where she rested. She hooted a quiet song at the beauty of the stars.

Warm and happy, she allowed her eyes to drift shut in slumber.

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

Admiral Stonefist paced his office, rigid with unspent fury. Lieutenant Baric watched him quietly; Grimthorn had already snapped at him twice today. He would have to apologize for it later.

He needed to focus, to start the investigation that would clear Kinnit, but every time he tried, he'd think about her anguished face and get angry again. Now he was trying to work off some energy so he could get back to what he needed to do.

He had Lieutenant Brangwin scanning through all the security footage for the entire Swordheart, starting around the times the information of the Oryndrax invasion would have been leaked. Sol was capable, but he was so slow compared to Kinnit. Grimthorn tried not to hold it against the young man, he really did, but all he could think of was Kinnit stranded on that technologically underdeveloped planet while Sol plodded through the security footage.

In any case, Grimthorn didn't think the leak had realistically been from his ship. It had to have leaked from somewhere in CenCom. He couldn't review CenCom's security footage, though. All he could do was make an airtight case that the info hadn't leaked from the Swordheart. It wouldn't be enough to clear Kinnit, but it would lay a good foundation for her case.

His scanner beeped. He lifted it to his ear.

"Yes?"

"Admiral Stonefist, there's an encrypted comm for you."

"Patch it in," he said.

A masked voice, heavy with distortion, came through.

"Admiral Stonefist, I need to talk to you," it said.

The shell of Grimthorn's scanner crackled in the sudden pressure of his crushing grip. The last time he'd heard this kind of distorted voice was after Kinnit had been kidnapped by Captain Denth.

"What do you want?" he growled.

"I am... a friend. I've been part of a conspiracy against the Imperium. But they're going too far. I want to help you."

Grimthorn swallowed his acid response. The voice was not recognizable through the filter, but the speech pattern and attitude was very different from last time. This sounded like a different person, even if it came through the same filter.

A tiny flicker of hope lit in his chest.

"Why?" he asked.

"I joined the conspiracy because I wanted to save the Imperium. It is corrupt, ineffective. But now the conspiracy is attacking innocent SSes to serve their ends. They-- they killed my friend."

Grimthorn waited in stony silence as the voice paused.

"They'll kill me, too, if they catch me," it continued finally, "but I can't let them continue."

"So why are you contacting me?"

"You're the great Admiral Stonefist. You kill bugs. The conspiracy has been controlling the Insectoids. I want to tell you where to find the rest of the Oryndrax fleet."

"The ones piloting Vylar ships?"

"Yes. They're hiding in the Alvor system."

In spite of himself, Grimthorn nodded. Alvor would be a good choice; one of its planets was lush and warm, rich with plant life and oxygen. A good place for the bugs to forage in between raids.

"Why should I believe you?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the comm.

"I have to go," the voice said suddenly. And the comm went dead.

Admiral Stonefist carefully laid his scanner on his desk. Sol looked at him with wide eyes. Grimthorn spent long minutes lost in thought.

"I've never seen a more obvious trap that I knew I was going to walk into," he said finally.