Lieutenant Dol fumed and paced. He was in a dimly-lit slot between two cargo bays, an unused area, one of a thousand tiny such slices of extra space on the ISS Swordheart. A tiny space with no cameras or microphones.

A dark figure slipped in. Lieutenant Dol's face turned red with suffused anger.

"You're late!" he whispered.

The dark figure smiled.

"You don't ask for the passphrase?"

Lieutenant Dol rolled his eyes.

"Fine, then. What's the passphrase?"

"The bolt of justice..."

"...flies from the shadows," Dol finished. "Now what do you want?"

The dark figure's smile faded.

"I want the world remade. But we're not here for what I want. What do you want, young Lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Dol's mouth pinched.

"I want revenge."

That thin smile re-emerged.

"I suspected as much. And I suspect who."

"Admiral Stonefist," Dol said without hesitation. I was doing my job, perfectly fine, thank you, and he threw me off the bridge for no reason! Just because I dared to question his order that, by the way, ended up shutting down half the ship!"

The dark figure nodded.

"Yes, Admiral Stonefist is quite a problem, isn't he?"

"And then do you know what he did? He put a note in my personnel file, 'No longer fit for bridge duty!' He's trying to destroy my whole career, just to protect his fragile little ego!"

The dark figure smiled as Lieutenant Dol ranted.

"He has this killer rep as the hero of Arcturus, but he spends most of his time shuffling papers. Which is good, because when he does anything on the bridge, the whole thing ends in disaster! But no, I'm the one who's unfit for bridge duty!"

A long, thin hand patted Dol's shoulder.

"It's been difficult for you, hasn't it?"

Dol mulishly stuck out his jaw and nodded.

"What if I told you there were a way for you to get Admiral Stonefist out of the way? Through... forced retirement, let's say?"

Lieutenant Dol paused. The question buzzed in his mind. He felt balanced on the edge of a razor. He was not a reflective young man, but he sensed that this decision would chart the course of the rest of his life.

The dark figure spoke again.

"And with Admiral Stonefist out of the way, your record could be cleared. You could be back on the bridge, if you wanted. Naturally, a talented young man like yourself would rise in the Imperium. Perhaps someday even... Captain?"

A smile quirked the corner of Dol's mouth at the title. Captain Dol. It sounded just about right to him.

"I... it wouldn't have to be anything too bad, right?"

"Well, Admiral Stonefist would have to be thoroughly humiliated. They don't force admirals into retirement for no reason. Very public humiliation."

Lieutenant Dol's smile grew.

"What would I have to do?" he asked.

"Only two very simple things. One, file an anonymous grievance about the handling of the Stone Pilots."

Dol nodded. "I was thinking about doing that anyway."

"Of course, a talented young Lieutenant like yourself, naturally that's what you'd do."

"What's the other thing?"

"Next time we resupply, you need to let someone on board where they won't be seen. And ask no questions."

Dol's gut roiled. But the image came to him of Admiral Stonefist, on his hands and knees, humiliated and weeping, and Lieutenant Dol-- no, Captain Dol in the captain's dais on the bridge of the ISS Swordheart, every eye on him and every ear attuned to his voice.

"Tell me where and when."

The dark figure spun out the details as Dol listened carefully.

"Now don't be sloppy, young Lieutenant," the figure finished. "Until this is all done, it will backfire on you badly if you are caught. Tell no one. Secrecy must be absolute."

"I'll say nothing. It will be worth it just to shut that stupid old man's face up."

Lieutenant Dol grinned at his imagination as the dark figure withdrew.

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

Admiral Stonefist sat at his desk, shaken. His plan to drive Kinnit out of the service had hit a snag. Instead of failing as thoroughly as he'd expected, she'd exonerated the Vylar and helped the Imperium locate a pirate base.

He drew in an unsteady breath. She'd saved him from attacking innocent people.

He drew a hand across his face. He'd spilled plenty of blood in his career. You didn't expand the borders of the Imperium without creating a lot of enemies. But the answers had always seemed so clear, justice was so simple. Until Kinnit, that is.

His stern expression softened as he remembered her dressing him down. It had been a long time since anyone had had the guts to give him the rough side of their tongue. He grinned. She was a treasure and an asset.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

His features fell as uncomfortable feelings surfaced again.

She was an asset, which was all the more reason to drive her out of the service. All her protestations to the contrary aside, she was too soft-hearted. If she quailed at burning out a pirate infestation, then she couldn't be depended on when the decisions became truly difficult. And since she could never be a full citizen, it would be better that she stopped trying so hard to become on. And if she were away from him, her luminous eyes and chipper smile would no longer haunt him.

He shook his head. Where had that strange thought come from?

In any case, she hadn't failed as he'd needed her to, so he'd have to find another means to make her want to quit. He'd have to get harder, less kind. If she thought she was tough, he'd just have to be tougher.

He took a deep breath through his nostrils. He was strong enough to expand the Imperium. He would be strong enough for this.

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

Kinnit sat in the mess hall late in the evening, nursing a coffee. Lucy, the spindly, spider-like lunch lady, came over and sat down next to her.

"Anything you need to talk about, hon?" she asked warmly.

"No, I-- I'm just thinking."

Lucy nodded.

"Well you can tell me to go away if I'm being nosy, but you look like the world shipped you an extra load of troubles."

Kinnit gave her a smile, quivering and unconvincing. She opened her mouth to thank Lucy and tell her she was fine.

"He's just so mean," is what came out instead.

"Old Admiral Stoneface?"

Kinnit giggle-sobbed at the moniker.

"He is kind of a stone face, isn't he?"

"Here, I got you a little something," Lucy said. "I looked up your bio profile and... well, you're close enough to Terran for this to do you some good."

She uncorked a small bottle and strong vapors attacked Kinnit's senses. Reflexively, Kinnit slapped her hands over her nose.

"Shorry," she said, speaking with her nose pinched shut. "I have a shensitve schniffer. That's... a shtrong shmell."

Lucy laughed and poured some in Kinnit's coffee.

"There, that'll help with the smell. Haven't you smelled alcohol before?"

Kinnit carefully uncovered her nose.

"Erm. Not really. Is that Terran alcohol? We have fermented fruits back home sometimes, but they don't smell like that."

Lucy smiled.

"The Terrans spent a lot of time learning how to make this stuff. Too much is bad news, but a little bit might help."

Kinnit experimentally sipped her adulterated coffee and made a face. But she didn't want to disappoint Lucy, who'd made a gift of the alcohol.

"So tell me about mean old Stoneface, hon," Lucy said.

Kinnit sighed.

"He-- he's a great man, I know he is," she said. "He's just so stubborn. And he acts like he's always right about everything."

"Hon, you just described every man in the galaxy." Lucy took a swig from her little bottle. Kinnit giggled and took another sip of her coffee without thinking. She coughed at the unexpected taste.

"It's just... sometimes he says the most awful things. And I know, I know he doesn't mean them the way they sound. But they still hurt."

"Still describing every man, hon."

Kinnit frowned. Her head was swimming a little.

"I had this thought that I could reach him. Help him. I want so badly to be a good helper for him."

Lucy gave her a level look.

"Is there something else there, hon? Something beyond... what you should be feeling? As an Assistant?"

Kinnit looked at her uncomprehendingly for a moment. Then she snorted and sprayed laughter, the sloppy, easy laughter of the slightly tippled.

"No, no, nothing like that at all. But he's my inspiration. The Imperium is everything I ever wanted. For myself and my people. And he is the Imperium."

"Well, you got that right. If you cut him open all you'd find is honor denser than a neutron star."

"That's right!" Kinnit stood, swaying slightly, and gave a sloppy salute, nearly knocking over her half-empty cup of coffee. "Labor! Corvus! Gloria! All hail the Imperium!" She shouted to the empty mess hall.

Lucy laughed.

"Sit down, hon."

Kinnit sat, smiled at Lucy uncertainly, and drank some more coffee.

"You know, Lucy, I feel like I could talk to you forever."

"Well, I could listen... until the end of my shift."

Kinnit sprayed laughter again.

"Look," said Lucy, "It's not you. Old Stoneface is notoriously hard to get along with. Why do you think he doesn't have an Assistant after thirty years in the Navy? He's just got his own ways. Have you thought about putting in for a transfer?"

"Absolutely not," Kinnit said, her eyes bright and clear. "The Imperium has already done so much for me and my people, and I want us to all become full citizens. I want us to do more than exist. I want us to matter. And to help others the way we've been helped. That is my life's goal, and being a good Assistant to the great Admiral is a big step for us."

Kinnit nodded with determination and drained her coffee.

"You're right, Lucy. You've helped me understand what's important. No matter how hard it gets, I won't stop. I was strong enough to get here, and I'm strong enough to get through. I will."

"Did I say all that?"

Ignoring her, Kinnit stood and saluted firmly.

"My all for the Imperium," she said. And then she slowly toppled over.

"I think we need to get you to bed, hon." Lucy looked at the empty coffee cup. "And... maybe Terran alcohol is not for you after all."

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Kinnit sat at her table the next morning, nursing a headache. She was struggling to get the data together for the Admiral's report on the Stone Pirates. She was feeling tired and unwell, but she had fresh determination and a will to be the best Assistant in three galaxies.

Admiral Stonefist strode in later than usual. He sat silently at his desk and began working. He looked distracted and irritable.

They worked in silence for a time. Then Admiral Stonefist took a deep breath and set himself.

"Kinnit, coffee," he said shortly.

"Yes, sir!" she chirped. She popped up from her seat, smiling through her headache, and walked over to the kitchenette to prepare coffee. Admiral Stonefist stayed studiously focused on his console.

After a few minutes, she brought him a cup. He took a sip, made a face and dropped the cup straight into the reclaimator. He stood.

"Never mind, I'll make it myself. I shouldn't have expected a Subject Species to know what tastes good."

She paused, taken aback.

"I'm sorry, sir, if you'll tell me what's wrong with it, I'll--"

"Forget it." He dumped out the rest of the pot and began remaking it.

She sat back at her desk, her face crumpling. Was he upset about something? She turned back to her work.

Later, she brought the collected data of the Stone Pirate reports to him. He frowned as he flipped through the data.

"Assistant, I'm preparing a report for the Council of Admiralty. I need better work than this."

"Sir?"

He waved the sheaf of slips around.

"This is all just a jumble. It doesn't make any sense. I can't bring this before the Council."

"Oh, I'm... I'm sorry sir. Maybe I can reorganize--"

"Forget it. I'll fix it. This is complicated data. Maybe I just had too high of an expectation for an SS."

He turned back to his console and began tapping away quietly.

Her brow drew down, but she went back to work on her next task.

Throughout the day, Admiral Stonefist needled and nitpicked, finding fault in every single thing she did, and making up fault where he couldn't find any. And everywhere he could, he let her know, "I shouldn't have expected any better out of an SS."

By late afternoon, her face was stormy. She tried to suppress her feelings, but her face was as easy to read as an unencrypted broadcast on every frequency. Her spirit stung with his every careless word that dropped from his mouth.

Her heart ached. She was failing. But as she walked out of his office for the day, she paused and set herself. She would endure. She would get better. She would become the Assistant he needed. Too much was at stake to do otherwise.

Head held high, she walked back to her quarters.

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Grimthorn watched her walk out of his office, clinging to the tatters of her dignity. The door slid shut behind her, and he clutched his stomach, groaning.

It was a poisoned mantle he wore. He wanted to throw up. He'd seen her flinch at every barb, every casually hurtful word, all day. He'd watched her natural bubbly cheerfulness drain away, replaced by hurt and grim determination.

Surely she could not endure it much longer. He knew he couldn't.