“You didn’t,” Rogers whispered.

Klein smiled. Grinned. An insane grimace split his face, his eyes crinkling to narrow slits. There was something strange about that expression, something not quite right.

Rogers realized as the first bit of wetness trickled down Klein’s cheek that it wasn’t a manic, psychotic smile; he was holding back tears.

“Of course I didn’t!” Klein said, bursting into sobs. “I don’t even know how to kill someone properly!” He took a gasping breath. “Or even what to do with the body afterward. I don’t know anything!”

The admiral threw his arms up in the air and collapsed onto the surface of his desk, his speech degenerating into senseless babble. Rogers found himself just as frozen in this moment as he had been when he’d thought the admiral had been about to kill him. This, he thought, was worse. He’d dealt with people threatening to kill him before. But weepy, teenage-like emotional outbursts? He’d rather eat a SEWR rat.

“My father was a famous general in the Meridan Marines,” Klein said, his voice muffled by his arms and the desk. “I come from a long line of war heroes, but all I ever wanted to be was a politician or a pastor or a priest or a motivational speaker or something. It was all I was ever good at!” He looked up, his face red and puffy, his eyes veritable fountains of tears. “So, I used my speech and my family’s history to get where I am so my family wouldn’t disown me. And now the Thelicosans are on the doorstep. I’ve doomed us all!”

Rogers didn’t know what to do. In fact, he realized that he hadn’t really had a plan after the whole barging-in-and-saying-“you’re an idiot” part. He certainly hadn’t expected the most respected man in the 331st to break down sobbing in front of him.

Cautiously, Rogers approached the desk.

“Listen,” Rogers said. “Maybe we can work something out. We don’t know that the Thelicosans are coming. So far, all I’ve heard is rumors. Maybe if we try to piece this fleet back together as a team, rather than you just pushing all of your work onto me, we can fix some of this. I’ll get you another exec—”

“No!” Klein screamed, sitting bolt upright. “You can’t give me another exec. You know all my secrets. I need you, Rogers. I need you to help me through this, or I swear I will have you transferred back to Parivan to work in the salt mines.”

He must have seen the expression on Rogers’ face, because he smiled a tiny, tear-soaked smile. “I read personnel files every once in a while, too. No, if we’re going to persist in pretending to be things we’re not, we’re going to do it together.

Rogers grit his teeth. “Alright, Admiral. It’s a deal. But I’m not polishing any more buttons or brushing any more uniforms.” He thought for a moment. “Or eating any more Sewer rats. I get to pick from your food supply whenever I want.”