Kinnit and Grimthorn sat on the sofa in their nook, chatting. They'd spent the day drilling court protocol. It had been a grueling exercise in rote memorization, relentless comportment practice, and excruciatingly detailed explanations of history and ceremony.

  Now they were taking a well-deserved break. The ISS Swordheart was on its way to the Olympus system. They planned to arrive the next day.

  "I hope I don't mess up tomorrow," Kinnit said.

  Grimthorn smiled.

  "You'll do fine," he said. He had his own concerns, but he knew she'd do the best she could. Court protocol was famously complicated. Surely not every petitioner was expected to master the full court ceremont? It depended, he supposed, on how prickly the Emperor was about the finer details.

  Kinnit fingered the slim golden collar around her throat.

  "Do you think-- will the Emperor really make me a citizen?" she asked.

  "Kinnit, if there's anyone in the galaxy that deserves it, it's you."

  She stuck her tongue out at him.

  "You didn't answer my question."

  Grimthorn smiled.

  "I didn't. I don't have an answer. I hope he will. Even if he doesn't, we'll figure something else out. I know we can make it happen, one way or another." He paused, a frown of worry settling on his face. "Though I don't know why our audience came so fast. I'd expected to have to wait quite some time. Months, easily. Maybe a year or more." He pursed his lips in thought. "I put down that I wanted to discuss the conspiracy. Maybe the Emperor is more worried about that than I realized."

  "Maybe. Just don't forget to ask about the marriage thing."

  "Ask about the what, now?"

  Her mouth went round with shock for a moment. Then she recognized the crinkles of mischief around his eyes. She hit him with one of the pillows from the sofa.

  "You're terrible."

  "I never pretended to be otherwise."

  She smiled at him.

  "Tell me more about marriage," Kinnit said. "What's it like?"

  Grimthorn raised an eyebrow.

  "I... thought you knew," he said.

  "I've read stories," she said, "but Kobolds don't have anything like it."

  Grimthorn's brow furrowed.

  "Well, what do you want to know?"

  Kinnit flumped down on her stomach on the sofa. She set her chin in her hands and looked up at him.

  "I don't know. Just tell me about it." She gazed at him with luminous eyes. He cleared his throat.

  "Um. Well. Hm." He thought for a moment. "I... don't know so much, either. I've never been married, you know?"

  "Yeah, but you're a Terran. What do they usually do in marriage?"

  "Ah... well... there are probably books that have better--"

  "Yeah, but I want you to tell me about it."

  Grimthorn glanced around, feeling slightly trapped.

  "Well... it's..."

  "Mmhmm?"

  Grimthorn cleared his throat. He thought for a moment.

  "A marriage is when two people commit their lives to one another. When they dedicate themselves to each other."

  "What do you mean, 'dedicate?'"

  Grimthorn's frowned in concentration.

  "Well... it's a promise. It means that, whatever happens, I'll always be on your side, and you'll be on mine."

  Kinnit rolled over on her back and looked at him upside down.

  "So we don't ever disagree?"

  "That's... no, that's not right. It's more like the Imperial Navy. We don't all get along all the time, but we're all working toward a common goal. As I understand it, it's like that."

  "Oh, that makes sense. So what are we fighting for?"

  "For each other."

  "Who are we fighting against?"

  Grimthorn grimaced. He was feeling out of his depth.

  "Um. I don't think it's quite like that."

  "It sounds complicated."

  "I... I don't think it is. It's just hard to explain."

  She rolled back over and looked him in the eye.

  "So what does it mean to you?" she asked.

  "It means you are my first priority," he said without hesitation. "Now and always. And that I will never give you any reason to wonder if there is anything or anyone in my heart besides you."

  She smiled slowly.

  "I like that," she said. She slid over and burrowed into his arms. "All mine." She looked up at him. "Every promise you make to me, I will make to you." She reached up and stroked his face. "I will be yours forever. I will put you first. Before the Imperium, before the Navy, before anyone else. You and only you." She laid her head on his chest.

  "I like that, too," he said quietly.

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  Chief Roeder flung the handful of slips back into face of the intern who'd brought them in. The intern flinched.

  "What do you mean 'nothing?'" Roeder bellowed. "How could they find 'nothing?'"

  "I... I don't know, sir, they just said--"

  "Get out! I want Herin Kasra!"

  "Y-yes, sir." The intern meekly began picking up slips from the floor.

  "Leave that trash alone! Get Detective Herin in here, now!"

  The intern scrambled for the door, only too happy to be away from the fuming Chief of Police.

  A minute later, a thin man in a black suit and square spectacles walked into Roeder's office.

  "You wanted to see me?"

  Roeder snatched up a sheaf of slips and waved them at Herin.

  "Thirty-two dead officers! Twelve dead Marines! A luxury apartment building blown halfway to the moons! And worst of all, we look like a bunch of bumbling morons in front of the whole Imperium! All that, and you idiots can't find anything tying this maniac to the conspiracy? Not one single shred of evidence?"

  Herin sniffed and looked coolly at Roeder.

  "You call him a maniac, but I disagree. He was very rational, methodical. The mechanism for the bomb was carefully thought out, well researched and planned--"

  "Who cares how he planned it? Except for the fact that he detonated a restricted nuclear device in the middle of the freaking city, we've got nothing on this guy at all!"

  Herin raised an eyebrow and brushed some invisible dust from his immaculate jacket.

  "My point, sir, is that he expected to get caught at some point. He expected us to come for him. We didn't interrupt his plans. He interrupted ours."

  "What are you even talking about?"

  "Sir, if you randomly selected any resident of Techterra and gave me leave to investigate them fully, access to all financial records, I would find some crime they'd committed, intentionally or otherwise. I could probably find enough to put about half of them in prison. But with this Senn, everything is perfectly clean. Nothing in his financials to raise an eyebrow. No gambling or vice. His social contacts were mild, limited, unconcerning. We swept what was left of his apartment, and there was nothing untoward. Even his political donations were modest and moderate. He is the very definition of 'flying below the radar.'"

  "What does any of that matter?"

  "It means, sir, that he knew exactly what he was doing. It means that he had exceptional operational security. It means that he knew more about what we'd be looking for than you do. He's certainly already off-planet, and we have no idea what he's planning next."

  "Don't you say that he's off-planet outside this office! We will keep the dragnet going until we find him!"

  Herin held up a forestalling hand.

  "By all means. We must do the visible, needful work, I'm not arguing against that. I'm just saying we won't find him."

  Chief Roeder sat heavily down in his chair and ground the heels of his hands into his eyes.

  "Cripes, what a mess."

  "Political, or procedural?"

  "Yes." Roeder sat forward. "Look, I need something on this guy. Find a lead. Find out where he went. What he did. Where he got a freaking nuclear device. Anything!"

  "I will continue to look. I do not hold out any great hope of finding anything meaningful with our current methods."

  Roeder pinned him with a fierce gaze.

  "Herin, I need you to find something. I know you have resources. I don't want to know details, I just want results. Any means necessary."

  Herin smiled thinly.

  "I understand perfectly, sir. I will need some... discretionary spending."

  Roeder's mouth twisted.

  "The department travel budget. Use whatever you need. Cash only. Avoid paperwork wherever you can. Don't make me have to field a bunch of questions I don't even want answers to."

  "I will be in touch, sir."

  The thin man withdrew quietly, leaving Roeder alone in the mess of his office.

  Kinnit stepped out of the the Imperial shuttle. Their journey on Olympus had taken nearly as long as their journey to Olympus. The security protocols had to be experienced to be disbelieved. It made sense, but... whew.

  On the plus side, if she had any latent medical issues, the extremely in-depth scans they'd received would certainly have caught them.

  Now that they were past security, she could enjoy the sights and sounds of the heart of the Imperium.

  She took a deep breath.

  She and Grimthorn were in a courtyard before the Sedes Imperialis, the grand structure that housed the Imperial government: the Imperial Council, the Hall of Judges, and the Emperor himself.

  People bustled about, some harried, rushing from place to place, some with their faces buried in their scanners, some with regal aloofness. Kinnit felt as though she and Grimthorn stood out, even though nobody was paying them any real attention.

  For security purposes, they hadn't been allowed to wear their own clothes in; they'd been required to dress in simple white togas provided to them. It was awkward for Kinnit. She wasn't used to having loose cloth swishing around her ankles. She looked over at Grimthorn. In spite of the simplicity of their clothing, she had to admit that he looked... very good in a toga. Even if it left more of his scars visible. He filled it out handsomely.

  She shook her head. This was not the time for thinking about that. She turned her attention back to the Sedes.

  Her breath quickened as she took in the massive, white structure. It was built in a classic, tasteful style: tall, sweeping spires, gently curving walls, crystalline stained-glass windows with glittering golden leadwork, and everything clad in white marble. The stones under their feet, too, were white marble. The stairs leading to the Sedes proper stretched across the entire width of the courtyard, following the contours of the courtyard. They were comfortably low and deep.

  "Grimthorn... it's so beautiful."

  "It should be. It is the physical manifestation of the glory of the Imperium." He took a deep breath. "It stirs my heart. It brings me back to how I felt when I first joined the Navy, when I realized what the Imperium really was."

  She smiled up at him.

  "I'm glad," she said.

  They looked at the grand structure for a while.

  "Well," Grimthorn said finally. "Are you ready?"

  "To be married to you? Definitely."

  Grimthorn smiled, and they mounted the stairs to the Sedes Imperialis.

  Inside the grand front hall, they checked in with Registration, which sent them to another area of the Sedes. That receptionist sent them to another and so on, going through a series of receptionists, slowly spiraling further into the byzantine center of the building. They walked onward and upward. Always up. Lifts, stairs, and the occasional escalator sought always to bring them higher.

  At long last, they found themselves in a great hallway. The ceiling was easily five stories overhead, and the hallway was broad enough to play a restrained round of regulation rook-fort. Grand, high windows towered far overhead. White marble, red silk, and gold highlights dominated the decor.

  They sat quietly on one of the long, low benches against the wall, waiting with the other supplicants. The air was cool, gently wafting past them. The quiet bustle of work could be heard in the background. The atmosphere seemed to require hushed whispers, or no speech at all.

  Grimthorn and Kinnit didn't converse, but sat together, admiring the Sedes. Grimthorn quietly took her hand, scooting a little closer to her to hide that they were holding hands. Kinnit looked up at him in surprise and he smiled at her.

  They sat in silence for quite some time. Without warning, Kinnit gigglesnorted.

  "What's that?" Grimthorn asked quietly. Kinnit clapped her hands over her mouth, but giggles kept escaping her. "What is it?" he asked.

  "'Sedes Imperialis,'" she said. "It's Old Imperial."

  "Of course," he said. "It means 'the throne of the Imperium.'" He looked at her quizzically.

  "Right. Right. But 'Imperialis' could also be translated 'of the Emperor.' And 'sedes,' literally translated means 'seat,' but it could also mean... you know..."

  Grimthorn raised an eyebrow.

  "We're in the Emperor's butt," she squeaked. Then she erupted in laughter. She slapped her hands back over her mouth. Tears erupted from the corners of her eyes as she tried to stifle herself.

  "That's... one interpretation, I suppose," Grimthorn said slowly.

  "I'm sorry! I don't know why that's so funny!" Her face took on a horrified cast in the midst of her frantic laughter. "I'm so nervous!"

  "It's okay," he said, rubbing her back. "We'll be fine. We'll be just fine."

  An official in white and red livery stepped into the hallway from the direction of the throne room.

  "The Emperor will now grant audience to Admiral Grimthorn Stonefist and Assistant Kinnit Longlegs," he said in a loud, clear voice.

  Kinnit's laughter died immediately, the tears of mirth drying on her face. Grimthorn stood.

  "Are you ready?" he asked.

  "No," she said in a tiny voice.

  He smiled at her.

  "Come. Our future lies just beyond that door."

  She wanted to take his hand, but they couldn't, not here where people could see.

  She stood, lifted her head, and took a deep breath.

  "Let's go," she said.