Kinnit sat alone in the pilot's seat of Digger. She was orbiting Takkar, keeping an eye on her instruments and looking out through the narrow front portal of the shuttle.

She wore her Naval uniform, which she'd brought with her from the ISS Swordheart. Although her trip was unsanctioned, she hoped the uniform would forestall questions about what she was up to.

She hadn't turned on the 360-degree portal in Digger. She wanted to save that until she could share it with Grimthorn again.

She sighed, and clicked through the messages on her scanner. She was re-reading old messages from Grimthorn while she waited. Idly she tapped out "I miss you." and sent it to him. He probably wouldn't respond, since he was still working, but she wanted to give him a little message to brighten his day.

Very shortly, a response came back.

"I miss you, too," it said. "Is everything okay?"

She blushed and smiled, inordinately pleased that he'd responded so quickly.

"Everything is fine," she replied. She thought for a moment. "It's been good to spend time with my family on Takkar."

"Good to hear," he replied.

She glowed as she stared at his messages. He was so terse, but she loved talking with him, even over scanner messages. She really shouldn't interrupt his workday though.

Digger's console beeped. Kinnit perked up and looked at the scanner display. A cargo ship had just entered the sector. She tapped at her scanner and looked at Voth's most recent message. She was waiting for the ship "Argosy Mule."

The ship scans verified that this vessel was the one she'd been waiting for. She powered up the shuttle's engines and sent a comm to the cargo vessel.

"This is Naval Shuttle, designation D16-63R, requesting permission to dock," she said.

"This is cargo vessel Argosy Mule, responding. Acknowledged, D16-63R, you are cleared to dock in bay 3."

She cleared her throat nervously.

"D16-63R, requesting instrument assist."

A slightly longer pause. It must have seemed odd for a Naval shuttle to request something designed for novice pilots.

"Certainly, D16-63R. Instrument assist activated."

Kinnit waited until the cargo ship came to a full stop. This was the moment she'd been dreading. She'd been putting in extra practice on the simulators, but her piloting skills were still weak. Getting up into orbit had been no problem; there was no deck to crash into up here. Docking on another vessel would be a different matter entirely.

Her whole goal was to help Grimthorn without making him worry. The last thing she wanted was to have him called out here to deal with a crash between a Naval shuttle and a civilian ship.

Kinnit carefully lined up on the docking bay, checking that all her instruments were green. She activated the thrusters, goosing them a little. She squeaked and tried keep a lighter touch on the controls. Digger crept toward the cargo ship. Kinnit sweated, staring at her instruments, making tiny adjustments to keep herself lined up with the docking bay.

How did Pilot Dabrini make this look so easy? Kinnit felt like she was about to throw up.

Tense, she eased the controls back. Digger crept forward ever so slowly, the nose of the shuttle entering the designated docking bay.

Sudden an alarm blared and Kinnit froze, her panicked eyes roving the console. Proximity alert. Digger had edged a little high in the docking bay. She let out a shaky breath and carefully eased the shuttle lower.

With agonizing slowness, she brought Digger down toward the deck. She tried her very best to land gently, but Digger still banged down, its skids making a harsh screech on the bay deck that reverberated through the shuttle, setting her teeth on edge.

She was landed, at least.

Kinnit let out a weak, uncertain laugh and began powering down her little shuttle. Once the bay was repressurized, she unbelted, opened the hatch, and stepped out.

A tall, graying man stood before her. He reminded her a little of Grimthorn, if Grimthorn were thirty years older. He had a similar bearing, and the same focused frown.

"I'm Dodge Dulius," he said, "Cargomaster of the Argosy Mule. Pleasure to have you on board, ma'am."

"Assistant Kinnit of the ISS Swordheart, Ninth Fleet," she replied. "Thank you for your assistance, Cargomaster."

Out of habit, she saluted briskly. To her surprise, he returned the salute. In spite of wearing civilian coveralls, he carried himself as though he belonged in a uniform.

"Oh? Are you Navy?" she asked.

"Former Navy, ma'am. Lieutenant Commander Dodge Dulius of the ISS Vigilant Interceptor, Seventh Fleet. After a few years of retirement, I discovered I missed the stars, so I took berth on the Argosy Mule."

She smiled warmly at the old Cargomaster.

"What a small world. I'm very pleased to meet you."

"Likewise. On a courier mission?"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Kinnit's eyes shifted over to Digger.

"I'm not at liberty to say," she replied.

"Understood, ma'am. We'll reach the Ceon system in about four hours. There's a break room through that door, restrooms are around the corner. You're welcome to help yourself to some coffee."

"Thank you, Cargomaster."

They saluted again, and Dulius walked off. Kinnit made her way to the break room.

It was well-lit and tidy, but not well maintained. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at one of the tables. She sipped it and made a face. Navy coffee was terrible, but it was a terrible she was used to. It was strong and gave you a good shot of caffeine. This coffee was little more than dirty water.

It was probably for the best. She didn't need a lot of caffeine right now anyway.

She wandered around the break room, looking at the faded posters and the required legal postings, but that quickly paled. She was curious to explore more of the ship, but the old Cargomaster would probably not appreciate her wandering around poking into random places.

She sat back down and tried to read a novel on her scanner for a while, but she couldn't focus. She sighed and sipped the awful coffee again. She shuddered. How could civilians stand to drink coffee you could see through?

Cargomaster Dulius came in.

"How are you holding up?" he asked.

Kinnit put on a pleasant face.

"Well enough," she replied. "Are you on break?"

"Off shift," he said. "Figured I'd come keep you company, if you like. Not much to do on a cargo ship."

"Oh, that would be lovely!" she chirped.

Dulius fetched himself a cup of coffee and sat across from her. He drank some of the coffee with no apparent distress. She took a polite sip of hers and tried to keep her face neutral.

"So. How does civilian life compare to the Navy?" she asked.

He smiled tiredly.

"It's calmer. They prioritize different things. Efficiency, mostly. A proper ship, not so much." He gestured at the break room around them. "Could you imagine a break room like this on a Navy ship?"

She smiled uncertainly, not wanting to be rude.

"It's very nice," she said unconvincingly.

Dulius barked laughter.

"'Very nice,' oh, you've got a sense of humor. Deferred maintenance all over the place." He sipped his coffee pensively. "A lot less bureaucracy in civilian life, though. You can just get things done, mostly."

Kinnit looked puzzled.

"What do you mean? Admiral Stonefist gets all kinds of things done." She bit her lip. She hadn't meant to mention Grimthorn. The old man's eyebrows rose.

"The hero of Arcturus? Yeah, I'll bet he gets things done. For the rest of us..." he shrugged. "We get by. Got by." He drank some more coffee. Kinnit wondered if he'd want the rest of her coffee.

"Couldn't you just explain what needed doing and why?"

Dulius looked at her as though she'd grown another head.

"You do live in rarefied air. Listen, if I wanted to do so much as one extra patrol, I had to submit it to the Captain. He'd have to send a request to the Admiral, who'd have to get the overtime pay approved by CenCom. Then that would come all the way back down. Then there would be a risk assessment. If it was a dangerous sector, back up to the Admiral it went. And on, and on, and on." A sour look settled onto his face. "We ran a tight ship, is all. Tight on money. Tight on time."

Kinnit's face took on an anguished cast.

"They should know better!" she said, her voice closer to whining than she liked. "They should trust their people to make good decisions!"

The old man shrugged.

"Yeah, well, coulda, woulda, shoulda. It's all in the past now."

Kinnit stared at her coffee.

"It's not right," she said. "The Imperium is better than that."

Dulius nodded.

"It used to be. Back in the old days. I remember when the Emperor announced his expansion campaign. Back when I was maybe 7 years old." He leaned back, his eyes staring seventy years into the past. "That speech still gives me chills, thinking about it. Him standing up there, bold, strong, 'Bring the glory of the Imperium to every civilization, victory in every quarter.' That was the cry. We all lived it, believed it. I wanted to be in the Navy so bad. I worked hard at my studies so I could join, do some good in this galaxy. We expanded so far. So many species joined us."

"I-- we, that is, we the Kobolds, we're one of the species that benefited from that. Thank you so much."

Dulius looked pointedly at her golden collar, then raised his view back to her eyes.

"If you say so. Life was good, but... things don't last. Nothing lasts. The Emperor, I don't know if he got bored, or lazy, or just figured he had enough systems. He kind of faded into the background." Dulius sighed. "I know they say the Emperor doesn't age, but... well the Imperium's been going for 300 years with him at the helm. Maybe he's just tired of it all."

Kinnit's brow creased.

"You mean you think the Emperor's getting old?"

Dulius scoffed.

"You tell me. He's 300 years old, at least."

Kinnit's face crumpled.

"But... he's the Emperor!"

Dulius looked uncomfortable.

"He's still Terran. I don't know what kind of technology, or treatment, or mystic power he has that's stretched him out for this long, but a body doesn't last forever. Look at me."

Kinnit took in the old man's frame. For his age, he was still hale and strong. Yet time had left an indelible stamp on him. His face, strong as it was, was lined and worn. His knuckles were round, swollen with arthritis. His movements were careful, deliberate, and slow.

A new worry wormed its way into her chest and nestled against her heart.

Could the Emperor die?

Abstractly, she had always known that it was a theoretical possibility, but Dulius' conversation forced her to think about it as a thing that could happen in reality. A thing that could happen in her lifetime.

What would happen to the Imperium if the Emperor died?

"Ah, don't listen to me," Dulius said, interrupting her thoughts. "I'm just a stupid old man. You ought not pay attention to anything I say."

"No, no, you've... given me a lot to think about." Kinnit stared through the table and absently took a sip of coffee. She twitched at the taste. "I just never considered it, is all."

"Look, we're almost to Ceon system. Let's get your shuttle ready, how about?"

"Yes, thank you," she said with a distracted air. She followed him to the docking bay, her mind churning.

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

Grimthorn paced while he waited. His fury craved action, not patience.

Ordren. Traitor! Murderer!

Admiral Stonefist's first instinct had been to drag the Ninth Fleet over to the Ceon system and blast Techterra into a crater, but even in the throes of a white-hot fury he recognized that that would not be just. There were innocents in Techterra.

He'd have to be much more surgical. He'd have to plan.

Grimthorn desperately missed Kinnit.

Her absence needled him constantly. He would turn to tell her something, but she wouldn't be there. He'd try to ask her a question, but she was gone. His arms ached to hold her again. The thin trickle of messages they shared was a scant comfort, a thin blanket in a blizzard of loneliness.

He hadn't been back to their nook since she left.

She was such a clear thinker, she would be able to help him come up with a plan. Yet he didn't dare involve her in this. It was altogether too dangerous. He would be branded a traitor if he failed. He couldn't subject her to that.

If worst came to worst, she could stay safely on Takkar, live quietly among her own people.

His squeezed his thick hands into tight fists.

Since he didn't have her, he'd have to settle for the distantly second best thing, much as he hated to do it. If only they'd hurry and get back to him.

His scanner beeped. He snatched it off his desk and held it to his ear.

"Hello?" he said.