Chapter Seven

Twitch was not the only one who was overjoyed at Rhys’ return, but he was by far the most boisterous about it. He almost bowled Rhys over within seconds of his arrival. The mustelid was eager to hear about everything that Rhys had done in his absence, but was so full of questions it was five minutes before Rhys was able to even try and formulate an answer.

Rhys quickly explained where he had been before Twitch could interrupt him again. He was careful not to miss any detail out, no matter how small or trivial.

Twitch was none too surprised about the reaction Rhys had received from Captain LeFavre and muttered something under his breath for almost a full minute. Rhys didn’t hear exactly what his new first officer had to say about the Cerian, but he was pretty sure the words “fucking bastard” came up at least once.

He was, however, a little shocked to hear that they would be restationed to Terra so soon. It didn’t take him long to work out why. “He’s worried about your safety here, Captain Rhys. He already knows LeFavre hates you; and that skulking cardinal too. He’s sending you away from danger by putting you in a small, out of the way place on Terra,” he said after they had discussed other possible reasons for a few minutes.

“I think that was his reasoning,” Rhys said uncertainly. Admiral Garter hadn’t really made clear exactly why he wanted to move Rhys to Terra. He had suggested it was a matter of safety, but never actually vocalised his thoughts.

 “And there’s just one more thing, Captain –” Twitch started to say before he was interrupted by Rhys.

“I’m never going to be calling you Mr Hall except when formality is absolutely necessary. I’ll be expecting the same of you, so you’re just to call me Rhys when we’re not on the ship,” he said.

“Then one more thing... Rhys. With me being your first officer... well... going to Terra... leaving Ceres and all that... David?”

“I have just the two mustelids on my ship. There’s always going to be room for another,” Rhys said, understanding Twitch’s concerns. This time he prepared himself for Twitch’s hugging attack and he was able to remain upright.

“Thank you Ca... Rhys,” Twitch said loudly, burying his face into Rhys’ shoulder. Then he jumped back. He was shaking slightly as he struggled to contain his excitement. “I need to go tell him. He loves flying, but he’s never been away from Ceres before. He’s going to love this news.”

Then he was gone, bounding away towards the far end of the room. Rhys could just about make out the coffee-coloured David in a group of mustelids down there. He could hear their shouts from where he was standing.

“Captain Rhys?”

Rhys turned at the sound of his name to find the tiny mustelid he remembered from the night before.

“Steph, is that right?” he asked, pretty sure he had matched the name to the right mustelid. He had already found a much increased ability to differentiate individual mustelids, but he wasn’t yet confident in his new skill.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

Rhys waited, but Steph didn’t seem to be about to say anything further. She just looked down at her feet, her hands clasped together in front of her waist. “Did you want to ask me something?” he prompted.

“How... how many of us can you take with you?” she asked. It was clear to Rhys what her actual question was though, hidden behind the one she had vocalised. She wanted to leave Ceres. And she wanted to leave now. Rhys didn’t blame her.

“I’m not going to Alpha Centauri,” he felt obliged to say.

“I know, I know. I just... any place is better than here. I don’t know what you think of LeFavre, but he is not kind to us at all. No one likes it here,” she said quickly.

Rhys had to think about how much room he still had aboard the Harvester. He definitely didn’t have enough room for all of them, not without dismissing his entire services crew first. Though his services crew was already quite full, he was reasonably sure he’d have room for both David and Steph. “You can come,” he said. His right ear folded as his thoughts moved on to LeFavre. “I was intending on following protocol and requesting Captain LeFavre’s permission to release Twitch, but now I think it would be better if I just tell him you’ll all be coming with me.”

“He won’t like that,” Steph said uncertainly.

“Not at all. We’ve already had one disagreement today, which I think he believes he came out on top of. It would be nice to set the record straight,” Rhys laughed. “But I know Admiral Garter will back me up if things start turning nasty. We have a bit of a sympathiser on our side in him.”

He suddenly recalled the primary reason the cardinal was in Normandy. The Vatican had picked up word of a mustelid sympathiser in the spaceport. Rhys wondered if Cardinal Erik had even thought to question Admiral Garter.

Steph cut across his thoughts. “So, you’re really going to take me? Thank you so much Captain Rhys,” she said, practically leaping into the air. Rhys could tell this meant an awful lot to her, and he was already glad of his decision.

“Would you go and fetch Twitch and David?” We’d best get you settled in on the Harvester,” Rhys said. Steph obliged instantly, darting across the room to fetch the other two new recruits of the Harvester. Rhys had to wonder what the rest of his crew would have to say on the sudden influx of mustelids aboard the ship. They barely saw anything of... It was then that Rhys realised he didn’t even know the names of the two mustelids who already worked on his ship. He had barely seen either of them, and he was the captain of the ship. That would have to be one of the very first things to rectify.

Steph returned moments later with Twitch and David in tow. Rhys forestalled David’s round of thanks with a brief, “Let’s get moving, shall we?”

Rhys had to admit to himself that the sight of the four of them walking purposefully through the spaceport was quite amusing. But that was not a sentiment shared by anyone they passed. In fact, no human even gave them so much as a second glance. Sometimes even the first glance was lacking. Had Rhys himself really been as ignorant of the mustelids as that? The answer was simple. Of course he had been. Otherwise he would not have been as surprised as he had been on learning just how many mustelids were present in the spaceport here. His estimate would have been fewer than two dozen, and yet that number was well over fifty.

Once on the Harvester the stares did begin to arrive. Though Rhys knew everyone they passed, none recognised him for obvious reasons. He had yet to re-introduce himself to his entire crew. He was both terrified and excited for that event. He hoped that Scott and Chekhov would be present when that moment came, so they could stand up for him should things turn unpleasant. Because the crews were unused to so many mustelids aboard at once, Rhys had expected some sort of confrontation at some point, demanding why they were there, but none came. After the initial stares they were largely ignored again.

Rhys hesitated for a moment on where to lead his small group. Instinctively he had been heading for the main bridge, but strictly speaking no mustelid was allowed there. Instead he turned and led them down to the service levels of the ship, a place where he rarely visited himself. The service levels were not under his direct influence; it was the role of the services commander to maintain anything that went on down here. On the Harvester that was Simon Briggs. Briggs was a particularly unpleasant man socially, but had always given Rhys the impression of being exceptional at his job. Rhys had certainly not had anyone under Briggs’ command come to him to inform him otherwise.

Down here, below all the operational systems, was where most of the unseen work went on in the ship. He had come down here in the hope of meeting the two mustelids already on his crew and rectifying a wrong and acquainting himself with them. He also wanted to find Briggs and see if there were anything David and Steph could involve themselves in. The final thing he hoped for would be to arrange some new uniforms for everyone. Rhys didn’t want to push it too long with Admiral Garter, turning up looking like a typical mustelid worker. He was a captain, and he needed to look the part or else he’d never retain the respect he deserved.

It wasn’t long before Rhys ran into one of the other mustelids – literally.

Rhys turned a corner only to suddenly find himself entangled with another mustelid on the floor; the pile of laundry the other had been carrying now strewn across the floor.

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Rhys said, scrambling to his feet and helping up the mustelid he had just knocked over. For a moment the other looked scared, but then he saw who his assailer was and his eyes widened.

Steph squeaked in excitement and pushed Rhys out of her way as she bounded forward. “Captain Rhys, you didn’t say Richard was on your ship,” she said as she embraced the other mustelid.

“Captain Griffiths?” Richard said with a short laugh. He had an accent most unlike the other mustelids he had heard. Richard was from the south-west of England. Rhys did not doubt that for a second. He found it strangely comforting to here a voice that came from the same part of the world as him. “I had heard rumours of this. The name’s Richard Blake,” the mustelid added, extricating himself from Steph and shaking Rhys’ hand, before retrieving his dropped bundle of laundry.

“You don’t know the mustelids on your own ship?” Steph asked incredulously. She seemed to have temporarily forgotten that Rhys had been an uncaring human until a couple of days ago. Rhys still felt guilty about the fact though.

“Well...” he said, holding his hands out, unsure what to say. Richard saved him from further embarrassment.

“He’s always been a very busy person,” he said. He paused for a moment, looking at the laundry in his hands. With a shrug of his shoulders he dumped it back on the floor without much ceremony. “Besides, does LeFavre know your name?”

“LeFavre’s a bastard though,” David growled.

Richard cocked his head. He had no argument for that statement, but then he turned back to Steph. “What about Rodgers? When we were both under him, did he know our names? Did he even see either of us more than once?”

“Alright, you made your point. Humans just don’t care about us,” Steph said, sticking her tongue out at Richard. “You’d better not continue that behaviour, mind you Captain Rhys.”

“If I ever neglect anyone on this ship again, it will be the humans who start complaining,” Rhys said. Mustelids were far more interesting, he thought to himself.

“Can’t deny most of them would deserve that,” Richard added. From the corner of his eye he looked across at Rhys, who recognised the mischievous glint in his eye that all mustelids seemed to have perfected. “I deal with all the laundry work on this ship, and you really don’t want to know what some of your men do with their clothes before they just dump it wherever pleases them.”

Steph sniggered while Rhys just looked uncomfortable.

“So Captain, is there a reason for this completely unprecedented visit down here other than to disrupt my work?” Richard asked, looking around at the scattered laundry still on the floor – most of it his own doing – with mock depression.

Glad of the tangent, Rhys wasted no time in answering. “Something I think you can help with, actually. The four of us all need uniforms. Mine doesn’t fit anymore, naturally, and the other three will all be joining us – Twitch as first officer and the other two somewhere on the services crew.”

Richard hissed gently, showing his teeth as he sucked in on his breath. “I’ll have to make them, and I don’t have much in the way of time; Briggs has dumped a lot of work on me, but I’ll see what I can do,” he said.

“I can help with making uniforms. I’ve done that sort of thing before,” Steph said brightly. Before anyone could stop her she was picking up the remainder of the clothes still on the floor.

“Would you?” Richard said, his eyes lighting up.

Rhys had to wonder why there was so much work for Richard. Between the entire services crew no one should be short on time to complete all their tasks. He frowned and knew that he would have to have words with Briggs if he was unfairly loading the two mustelids with extra work.

“Twitch can stay and you can use him to measure me out. I want to find Briggs and... uh...” Rhys said, pausing as he remembered he didn’t know the other mustelid’s name.

“William Hamlyn,” Richard filled in for the hesitant Rhys. “At this time Briggs’ll  probably be in his office and William should be doing the rubbish rounds at the moment.”

Thanking Richard, Rhys headed off on his own to find William or Briggs. It was the mustelid he found first. If Richard was overworked at least he still looked healthy. The same could not be said of William. His fur was matted and filthy, his eyes dull and completely lacking the spark of energy Rhys had seen in every other Mustelid. His ears were flat against his head. Behind him he dragged several bags of rubbish; a task Rhys had thought would have been redundant on his ship. He had delegated more than enough money for the purchase of several General Assistance Bots many months ago.

Rhys caught up with William very easily and offered his assistance to the beleaguered Mustelid. William almost dropped everything he was carrying in shock.

“Who’re you?” he asked blankly, but was still glad to relinquish over half of his burden into Rhys’ arms, who staggered under the sheer weight of it all.

“I’m Captain Rhys,” he answered, careful to note William’s reaction. None came. Not even the slightest of twitches in his ears.

“I heard about that,” William said without any hint of interest or intrigue. His voice was completely flat and emotionless, worn down from constant labour. Between him and Richard, William most certainly had the tougher job. And Rhys didn’t know why. This wasn’t a case like Richard’s where more people could be assigned to the job; this whole task should be completely redundant. The GABs should be doing all of this, unless it was just as case of the bots being broken.

“You don’t do this every day, do you?” Rhys asked after dragging the rubbish a few metres, and having a lot of difficulty with it. He had no idea how William had been managing the whole lot.

“Not just every day, but every night too. I haven’t slept properly since I started here. I have to be on call all the time, to do whatever Briggs wants me to do,” William said, pleading to Rhys.

It seemed Rhys had been too quick to consider Briggs an exemplary leader for his operations crew. Never before had he asked the opinion of the mustelids, or even really cared what they thought. By the sound of things, Briggs was abusing his power over William and Richard. If there was one thing he was still able to pride himself on, Rhys had never once condoned discriminatory behaviour against mustelids. Not when he was made aware of it. He may not have cared about them before, but he had always demanded that they be treated fairly.

“I will speak to him about that, you have my word. This will stop,” Rhys said, pausing to look back at William, who had come to a dead stop. “He shouldn’t be working you this hard, no matter what he may say. What happened to the GABs that were ordered?”

“There never have been any GABs. It’s only ever been me. Briggs has never really listened to you, Captain. What makes you think it will be any different now?” William said hopelessly.

“Then what happened to the money I gave him for them?” Rhys said, wondering out loud. William had no answer for him. “That in itself is already enough to get him dismissed. Further insubordination against me will not do him any good whatsoever.”

William shook his head. “You don’t know the services crew here. Briggs has them all against me and Richard both. They find work for me that doesn’t need to be done. You get rid of Briggs then they’ll just all take their revenge out on me and Richard,” he said.

Rhys was inclined to believe his opinion, and he sighed. He couldn’t exactly replace the entire services crew of over two dozen people. It just could not be done and still maintain a smoothly-running ship.

“Unless you became service crew leader in Briggs’ place. You would be able to report directly to me if anyone gave you any trouble,” Rhys said, well aware such a decision could be a very risky one, if the level of hatred down here was as high as William was indicating. He couldn’t believe such a thing had been going on aboard his ship. “Or we get in those GABs. I make sure we actually do get them this time, and we get you out of this job, get you a better place, maybe helping Richard.”

“We’re not all like you, Captain Rhys. I don’t want to be a leader. I can’t be a leader. But I would like to work with Richard,” William said, lowering his head in thanks. Then William jumped at the sound of rapidly nearing heavy footsteps. “It’s Briggs, I know those boots too well,” he said, diving behind the piles of rubbish and cowering.

Rhys straightened his body up to his full, diminutive, height as Briggs came around the corner. The services crew leader’s red face was wearing a constant frown of extreme disapproval.

“Did I say you could stop?” Briggs said as he saw Rhys, clearly confusing him for William. Briggs raised his hand to strike Rhys, catching him square on the jaw. Rhys flew several feet before crashing painfully to the ground. William uttered a tiny squeak of fear, but Rhys just spat a little blood on the ground and stood up. Both his ears were curled in on themselves, and his entire body was quivering with rage.

“Striking your captain unprovoked is tantamount to suicide for a continued career. I can have you destroyed for that, Mr Briggs,” Rhys said very slowly and quietly. His frustration of Richard and William’s treatment was fuelling his anger, but he was still able to keep a calm and level head. Years of Spaceways training hadn’t been forgotten despite his new body.

“Captain? You honestly think I’m going to believe that crap? You’ve taken it too far this time, weasel,” Briggs said, pulling out a plasma pistol from the holster at his hip.

Rhys had failed to notice that.

Briggs aimed the pistol right for Rhys’ eyes. There was a low whine as the pistol was activated.

Rhys froze. He was torn between the instincts to flee or fight and found himself unable to do either. He stared down the barrel of the small pistol and into Briggs’ gloating eyes. The human had been longing for this moment.

William slowly emerged from the pile of rubbish and for a moment Briggs was distracted. A moment was all Rhys needed. He dived to the side just as Briggs fired, the plasma charge leaving a burning hole in the wall just behind where Rhys had just been standing. Rhys had felt the scorching heat as the charge had passed him, scorching away a patch of fur from his tail.

Cursing, Briggs reactivated the pistol and took aim again. This time he was distracted by the pitter-patter of mustelid claws getting ever closer. A cry came from down the corridor and Twitch burst into view.

Before Briggs could even react, Twitch was on him, gnawing at the hand that held the loaded pistol. Briggs cried out in pain and lashed out at the mustelid, catching Twitch on the side of the head with his fist. Twitch’s teeth tore chunks of flesh out as he slipped to the ground, unconscious.

Rhys knew he had to act fast. Briggs was wounded but furious, and he still had the pistol in his hand. Dropping his shoulder, Rhys charged and smashed into Briggs’ chest. Then his elbow came up into the human’s groin, immobilising the big man immediately. Briggs collapsed to the floor and curled up. The pistol clattered to the floor by William’s feet.

Rhys placed both feet on the prostrate body. “Mr Briggs, you have just attacked this ship’s captain and first officer. Your treatment of William Hamlyn and Richard Blake has been equally despicable. As a consequence of these actions, I am relieving you of your duties effective immediately.”

Briggs said nothing in reply, but then Rhys wasn’t sure he was capable of speech at the present time.

A strangled cry caught Rhys’ attention. David had followed some distance behind Twitch, also drawn by the sounds of the fight. He had seen the body of his partner lying motionless on the floor and had slid several feet to stop by Twitch’s side. Rhys didn’t dare lift his weight up from Briggs’ torso, or else he’d have been kneeling by Twitch’s side too.

David gently lifted Twitch’s head into his lap, gently stroking his partner’s fur. Twitch groaned and clenched his jaw, probably concussed from the blow to the head.

William picked up the pistol from where it had fallen by his feet. He edged around Rhys to get a clear aim at the immobile Briggs. His hand shook by the trigger pad.

“William, the gun,” Rhys said firmly, holding out his hand.

“Don’t say he doesn’t deserve it,” William snapped. It was the first time Rhys had heard true emotion in his voice. He was furious. Rhys recognised the same glint in the mustelid’s eye as he had seen in Briggs’ just moments before. Rhys did not doubt that William would shoot.

“Of course he does, but he’s already ruined everything for himself. He’ll never work for the Spaceways again. There’s no point you wasting your chances on killing him now,” Rhys said, stretching his arm out as far as he could reach without stepping off of Briggs.

Very slowly, William lowered the gun and handed it to Rhys. He then growled as Rhys aimed the pistol right at Briggs’ head.

Rhys ignored him. “Get up now,” he demanded of Briggs, stepping back onto the floor. When Briggs did not obey he fired a warning shot, releasing a small ball of pure plasma energy past the human’s right ear. Where it struck the floor the metal melted, creating a tiny hole before fizzling out.

“Up,” he repeated, and this time Briggs scrambled to his feet immediately. For a moment he looked prepared to attack anyone who came close, but then the plasma pistol was pressed into his chest.

Over his shoulder Rhys issued a few orders to the others. “William, leave all of this where it is and guide David and Twitch to the medical bay. Then get yourself cleaned up and meet me in my quarters in half an hour. David, you stay with Twitch until I come down and see you,” he said.

“Will they treat him Captain Rhys?” David asked with tears in his eyes.

“Doctor Sparks won’t give you any trouble,” Rhys said with absolute honesty. Sparks had already treated Twitch once after all. The doctor would not hesitate to do so again.

David nodded and wiped his eyes. With William’s help they lifted Twitch up.

 “Come on you, move. Up to the main bridge,” Rhys said to Briggs, trying to put as much steel as he could into his voice, which admittedly wasn’t all that much. After a gentle prod from the pistol, Briggs turned around and began to move.

As they started to walk again Rhys reached for his comlink and managed to switch it on with just the one hand. He dialled in the Cerian spaceport and interrupted the receiver before they even had chance to speak their name.

“This is Captain Griffiths. Can you request Admiral Garter’s presence at the bridge of the Harvester immediately. We have a pressing matter that needs his attention.”

“Certainly Captain Griffiths,” came the reply, and Rhys turned off his comlink again. He was too busy to attend to any communications that may come in.

“You think he’s going to believe your lies? Do you honestly think he’ll listen to you?” Briggs said. His body tensed as Rhys pressed the pistol into his back. Rhys’ first instinct was to hiss, but he suppressed it with a little difficulty.

“Of course he will,” Rhys said confidently. He had absolutely no doubt in his mind at all. “Admiral Garter has already backed me to continue as captain, and has agreed with my choice of Mr Hall as my first officer.” Rhys was sure Briggs had blanched. He certainly faltered in his step.

Five minutes later they left the service levels and returned to the operating level. It was then that Rhys realised the few holes in his plan. He had not considered the reaction of his crew to a mustelid holding the services commander at the point of a charged plasma pistol.

The moment he walked into the bridge he again found himself staring at the wrong end of a weapon, this time a close range taser. Holding the taser was the ship’s senior assistant systems operator, Jordan Dewson.

“Put the weapon down, mustelid,” Dewson said, flicking a switch on the side of his taser. Rhys heard a low hum of electricity charging. He really hoped this wasn’t about to become a common occurrence. Before today, only twice before had someone ever trained a weapon on him. That had been matched in just ten minutes.

“Mr Dewson,” Rhys started to say, but he was interrupted by the bridge door opening again behind him.

“Lower your weapon, Mr Dewson,” the newcomer said. It was the voice of Admiral Garter. Rhys turned his head to see the admiral flanked by two others. All three had plasma rifles charged and ready, targeted at Dewson.

“But he’s...” Dewson said, not lowering his weapon.

“He’s your captain,” Admiral Garter finished for Dewson.

Dewson’s arm shook and for a moment he seemed to have frozen. His skin went from red to white in less than a second. Slowly he lowered the weapon as its charge dissipated harmlessly. “I... Captain... I should have known better... I’m sorry...” he murmured barely loud enough for Rhys to even hear.

“At least you’re willing to admit your mistake,” Rhys said, jabbing Briggs in the back as he spoke. “This one turned his weapon on me after I informed him who I was,” Rhys added mainly for Admiral Garter’s benefit. It was after all the admiral who needed to know why his presence had been requested to defuse what had become a much more volatile situation than Rhys had intended.

“You can lower your weapon too, Captain Griffiths,” Admiral Garter said sternly. For a moment Rhys felt he had misjudged the admiral’s true opinion of him, but then he saw that Garter was looking at Briggs, not him. Rhys deactivated the plasma pistol and lowered it to his hip.

His earlier anger fading, Rhys looked down at the ground. He was now feeling a little foolish in front of the admiral. He knew this definitely went against Admiral Garter’s advice of not losing his temper again.

“Ms Rasheed, Mr van Tenk, hold Mr Briggs in my ship until I return. I need to speak privately with Captain Griffiths here.” Admiral Garter said, confirming some of Rhys’ worries. The admiral still had some things to say to him. Admiral Garter deactivated his rifle and handed it to the man on his left.

“Back to work Mr Dewson, and the rest of you,” Rhys said to his crew as Briggs was led away by the two armed men. The former services commander offered little resistance or complaint. Though Rhys wished his voice didn’t sound so timid, there was no suggestion from the rest of the crew about ignoring their orders. They had just seen the consequences of disrespecting their mustelid captain.

Minutes later, Rhys was in his quarters with Admiral Garter. He had placed the plasma pistol on his desk before surrendering the only chair to the admiral. Rhys perched himself on the end of his bed and waited for Admiral Garter to begin.

“I want you to explain everything, Captain Griffiths,” Admiral Garter said, folding his arms as he looked across at Rhys. Though he was not aware of it, Rhys was nervously stroking his tail, an act Admiral Garter did notice.

“In short, Briggs attacked me and my first officer, and also threatened my life,” Rhys said, realising that Briggs had been just moments away from firing. If William or Twitch hadn’t have intervened things would have ended very badly.

“I didn’t ask for the short version, Captain. I want to know everything that happened from the moment you boarded your ship to the moment I arrived,” Admiral Garter said.

So Rhys explained everything, going even further back than Admiral Garter had requested. He told him of his decision to recruit David and Steph to his crew before moving on to what had happened in the service levels. He left out little, omitting just a few fragments of conversation he felt the admiral didn’t need to know, such as the possible neglect of the human crew. He told Admiral Garter of his concerns over the treatment of William and Richard, some responsibility of which he admitted fault to. He also spoke of his concern about the missing GAB units, or more precisely, the missing money that had been set aside to purchase them.

Admiral Garter remained silent throughout the entire time Rhys was talking, and for several minutes afterwards too. He removed his glasses and placed them on Rhys’ desk.

“You are correct of course,” he said eventually. “Even without his attack on you and Mr Hall, there would be evidence enough to dismiss Mr Briggs should you be able to prove it. I will see to it that you get the GABs, and I will also deal with Mr Briggs, but I ask you not to approach him again. And may I also impress on you, once again, the need to act a little more cautiously until everyone here is more willing to accept your new... identity.”

“I understand, Admiral,” Rhys said, lowering his head, accepting the rebuke without further comment. As he looked down he finally noticed what he was doing to his tail, and he quickly stopped himself and folded his arms across his chest.

“Mr Cooper’s disciplinary hearing is tomorrow morning. I can pull some strings and get Mr Briggs to be seen at the same time. It’ll be at the Normandy courtrooms, though it’ll be right after the captain’s meeting, I can take you there myself.” Admiral Garter said.

“The Normandy courtroom, Admiral?”

“Our usual chambers in port are unusable. A waterline burst; half the ceiling has collapsed.”

“Of course,” Rhys muttered darkly. His hands gripped the edge of the bed as he fought the urge to return them to his tail.

“Go see your first officer, Captain. I can show myself out,” Admiral Garter said, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched Rhys. He stood up and paused by the door. “I shall redouble my efforts in finding somewhere suitable for you.  I feel it’s best to get you away from Ceres as soon as possible.”

“I understand,” Rhys repeated, bowing his head once more, this time though to keep the admiral from catching the smile on his face. He was elated that his time on Ceres was drawing to a close at last. He would be in civilised regions again. He was almost tempted to commit more misdemeanours to further hasten that time, but he thought that would just be unprofessional, and he had no wish to put himself in any situation that could see him facing the wrong end of an armed weapon again. He would just have to wait the few days it should take Admiral Garter to find a suitable port for him. Perhaps Los Angeles. Rhys had only heard great things of the port and city. Yeah, he wouldn’t mind being stationed to Los Angeles.

Rhys waited impatiently. He wanted to go and check up on Twitch straight away, but he had asked William to meet him here. He knew he would have to wait for him, for they had quite a bit to discuss too. He paced restlessly as he waited. There was so much happening all around him, and it was all related to his transformation. Old allegiances were breaking; already he had lost his two oldest friends in Cooper and Aaron, yet he had new friends in places he could never have expected. Twitch was already a companion so close it was like they had always known each other.

When William did arrive he was barely recognisable as the same mustelid. His fur had a new shine to it, beyond the damp that still lingered in patches. The top half of his uniform was draped around his shoulders to better let the fur on his chest dry.

“Feeling better now?” Rhys asked, keeping his eyes on William’s face. He couldn’t deny that the mustelid had a very good body, likely the result of the countless hours of manual labour he had been forced to endure. Rhys was concerned that he had even noticed that fact.

“I haven’t felt clean for months,” William said in amazement, his voice a lot softer now. He appeared completely unaware of the effect he was having on Rhys.

“You’ll be pleased to hear that Mr Briggs is being dealt with by Admiral Garter as we speak,” Rhys said. He didn’t know why his eyes kept flicking down, but they did and he was powerless to stop it.

“I don’t want his job, Captain. I’m not a leader like you, I wouldn’t be able to do it,” William said, brushing through the fur on his arms with his claws. He didn’t seem to be capable of looking up and meeting Rhys in the eyes.

“Then you won’t have it. You can work with Richard. With Steph there now as well the work shouldn’t be too tough for you,” Rhys offered.

“I’d like that,” William said, lowering his head further and ceasing his grooming. If anything he became more bashful. “And... and would I have a room to sleep in?”

“You don’t have your own quarters?”Rhys asked, absolutely stunned. “Where do you sleep?”

“When I can, on the floor. Anywhere really. When you get as tired as I do, everywhere is comfortable,” William said, inspecting his claws in an attempt not to look up at Rhys.

“You’ll have a place to sleep, you have my word,” Rhys said, once more shocked by his apparent neglect of the mustelids under his command. He could scarcely believe that he had actually been that man just a couple of weeks ago. William’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“In fact, rest here for now, I think you need it,” Rhys said, jumping up from his bed. William just stared at it as though unsure what to do. “You won’t be able to lock the door, but no one should disturb you. I need to check on Twitch.”

Rhys made to leave then, but in a single fluid movement William leapt on him, wrapping his powerful arms around Rhys’ neck and shoulders as his emotion and gratitude overflowed their restraints. Such was the force of William’s jump, and with Rhys being completely unprepared, they were both dragged down onto the bed again, with Rhys struggling to breathe beneath William’s weight.

“Thank you, thank you, it’s over.” William said with absolute relief, holding Rhys’ head into his shoulder. He had evidently forgotten, or simply didn’t care, that Rhys had been at least partially responsible for his plight.

“You’re welcome,” Rhys gasped, trying to push William off him. The situation was a whole lot more awkward than he cared for.

William rolled off Rhys and lay out luxuriously on the bed. “Sorry Captain Rhys. You go see Twitch,” he said, closing his eyes and stretching his arms out over his head. Rhys took the opportunity to leave before William pounced him again. The behaviour seemed to be a natural way for the mustelids to express gratitude and thanks amongst each other, but Rhys wasn’t sure how long it would take before he became used to it. It was certainly not something that suited a professional situation.

By now everyone on board Rhys’ ship was fully aware of their captain’s new identity, especially after the incident on the bridge. As such, Rhys was not hassled on his way down to the medical bay and most of those he passed even acknowledged his presence with a simple nod of the head. It was more than he had received since his transformation.

The small medical bay was practically deserted. Only David and Sparks were present, sat either side of Twitch’s bed. Twitch was still unconscious, lying beneath a thin white sheet that covered his body up to his shoulders. David and Sparks were so engrossed in conversation that they didn’t even notice Rhys until he was stood right behind David’s shoulder.

“How is he?” Rhys asked.

“Fine, absolutely fine,” Sparks replied, gently patting Twitch’s leg. “He’s sleeping more as a precaution than anything else. With head injuries you take no risks, but he should be right as rain in an hour or so.”

David was holding Twitch’s hand in his own. “Doctor Sparks has said that, with your permission, he’d teach me how to be a doctor too. He said he needs a student,” he said, enthusiasm evident in every word, and by how he squeezed Twitch’s hand a little.

“He’s right, Captain. Miss Binding was, frankly, a disappointment, and I’ve had no one to replace her yet,” Sparks said. “Mr Reynolds seems eager enough, and he tells me he’s already got some experience, so I thought why not? Unless you already have a different role for him, that is.”

“I never got the chance to organise something for you to do here,” Rhys said with a laugh, looking at David’s expectant face. “Learn everything you can from Sparks. He’s one of the best there is.”

This time Rhys knew it was coming and was able to prepare. He held on to Twitch’s bed so that when David leapt at him he was able to stay upright. Even so, the force of the larger mustelid almost knocked him clean off his feet. “Thank you Captain Rhys, I won’t let you down,” David said, clinging to Rhys’ fur.

“I’m sure you won’t,” Rhys said, pushing himself out of David’s clutches.

David and Sparks resumed their conversation after that, which turned out to be David’s first lesson under Sparks’ tutelage. The doctor was mainly trying to determine exactly what his new student already knew, and what would still need to be taught.

Rhys tuned out, not really understanding any of it. He looked down at his comlink and turned it on. Though it crackled to life it beeped softly, a red light flashing. It was out of communication range to the control, which Rhys knew to be maybe half a mile away. He didn’t really expect anyone to contact him anyway.

“David”?

Twitch had opened his eyes and was looking blearily around him. David broke off from his conversation with Sparks mid-word and sidled onto Twitch’s bed and lay alongside him. David placed his arms around Twitch, who rested his head on his partner’s chest. “I’m here,” David said gently, his hand stroking Twitch’s head.

“What happened?”

“This time I have to thank you. You saved my life back there, Twitch,” Rhys said, standing at the foot of the bed where the inured mustelid would be able to see him without moving his head much.

“I did? How?” Twitch asked, closing his eyes again as he tried to remember.

“You stopped Briggs from attacking, and almost certainly killing me,” Rhys said, edging a little closer to Twitch. Sparks was doing the same on the other side of the bed, but did not seem overly concerned about his patient’s lack of memory.

 “Typical, I do something noble and worthwhile and I can’t even remember doing it,” Twitch said, screwing his face up and poking out his tongue. Then he winced and held a hand to his forehead. “That’s going to hurt for weeks.”

Sparks had a solution for that, and he went to the far side of the room and opened a small closet there. He rummaged around for a minute as the three mustelids looked on silently. He returned with a small, clear plastic box of white pills. “Painkillers,” he said, rattling the box. “Tried and tested for centuries. Sometimes we don’t need all this technology when we have something as simple and effective as this.”

“These are about the height of the technology we have available to us,” David said a little bitterly as he took a couple of the tablets from Sparks. “You call them old technology, but for us, they’re all we have.”

Sparks went to get a glass of water for Twitch too, but by the time he returned the tablets had already vanished down Twitch’s throat. Twitch opened his mouth to show the doctor that it was empty, and then took the glass of water anyway. He downed the water in one, getting a considerable proportion of it on the fur around his mouth. The mustelid jaw wasn’t designed to drink easily out of a glass.

Twitch wiped his mouth with the back of his arm and handed the empty glass back to Sparks, before pulling David a little closer to him. “So, I’m a hero, right?” Rhys and David laughed, while Sparks just smiled and shook his head.

“Well now I know he’s alright,” David said. The mustelid glanced up at Rhys with a look in his eye that spoke of a need for privacy.

Rhys cleared his throat and turned to Doctor Sparks. “I don’t think we’re needed here any longer, Doctor. Shall we... uh, leave them be for a bit?” he said.

“I think I just need to run a couple more...”

“Now.”

“Ah yes, they can always be done later.” Finally catching on, Doctor Sparks followed Rhys out of the medical bay. He locked the door behind them. “Probably best not to have anyone walking in on them,” he said. The two stood awkwardly for a few moments.

“Right. I’d better... you know, get back to work,” Rhys said, though he didn’t really have any duties to occupy himself with. Leaving the doctor behind, Rhys headed up to the bridge, hoping that it would be deserted. He was wrong. There was one person on the bridge, seemingly waiting for him, though why Cardinal Erik had been given permission to board his ship was beyond him.

The Cardinal turned when he heard Rhys approach. He didn’t even bother concealing a look of absolute hatred. “You dare come onto this bridge, beast?” he said in a tone that was laced with blatant malice. Rhys could tell there wasn’t much stopping the religious man from attempting to harm him quite severely.

Rhys knew he had to remain calm, though inside he was seething. He did not much appreciate being called ‘beast’. The words of Admiral Garter were still burnt into his mind though: don’t lose your temper.

“I dare, yes. I dare because this is my ship,” Rhys replied in what he thought was a very creditable imitation on nonchalance.

“Your ship? Ah, but for how much longer, hmm? I hear you’re attending a disciplinary hearing tomorrow afternoon. Do you think your peers will keep you as captain after that, now that they’ve seen the beast you’ve become?”

“The hearing? You mean the one that will see my former first officer and service commander dismissed for insubordination? That’s got nothing to do with my behaviour, so I’ll ask you to keep your mouth shut over matters you know nothing about.”

Cardinal Erik only laughed. A cold, cruel laugh. “You really think you’re going to get out of this, don’t you? You must have inherited more than just the beasts’ behaviour, you have their intelligence too.”

Rhys snarled savagely, which for a moment took the smile from Cardinal Erik’s face. “Just as I thought,” the cardinal said. He averted his eyes from the mustelid and crossed himself.

Cardinal Erik stalked away, pushing Rhys to the side as he passed. “Don’t be so sure of yourself, beast. So long as I am present, there will always be a voice clamouring to bring you down from your lofty ideals and delusions of self-righteousness,” he said as Rhys struggled to stay on his feet.

Rhys simply hissed to the cardinal’s retreating back in reply.

There was nothing he could do about the cardinal. The Vatican were an entity to their own; completely autonomous to TIE. They were responsible for their own actions, and Rhys knew enough about them that they would turn a blind eye to even the most blatant and cruel misbehaviour if a mustelid was the target. He had heard stories of cardinals torturing mustelids in attempts to ‘cleanse their souls’, for, according to Vatican doctrine, mustelids were an abomination to nature and thus inherently evil. However, in an attempt to maintain compassion for all intelligent beings (though it must be said they barely viewed mustelids as intelligent at all), they offered their services to all mustelids, whether they wanted it or not – the latter being exclusively the case. It sickened Rhys to think that, to the Vatican, showing compassion meant weeks upon weeks of unimaginable pain so that the afterlife could be tolerable. Even before his transformation he was quite disgusted by it, but of course had never spoken out against it. No one spoke out against the all-powerful Vatican.

They were a terrible enemy to have.

Looking out across the bridge, Rhys knew that he would lose this all if the Vatican were to have their way. His ship, his career, and quite possibly his life would all be taken from him. He had to stop that. The only way he could do so was to garner enough support within Spaceways that the likes of Admiral Garter would not crack under the pressure exerted from the Vatican. It had to start with his crew. He needed them all backing him.

Rhys didn’t feel comfortable going back to his quarters just yet because of William’s presence there, and nor did he want to see Twitch in the medical bay. What was going on down there was best not thought about. So for a while he just sat in the bridge, looking out the main windows at the unimpressive vista of the interior of the docking bay. There was a hole in the roof where one of the exterior panels and been torn away, probably in a storm. To Rhys it was just another thing falling apart. He couldn’t wait to get away. It didn’t have to be Los Angeles. Anywhere on Terra would do; Mumbai, Cape Town, Buenos Aires. He really didn’t care anymore. It just had to be away from Ceres.

Sitting in his chair in the centre of the bridge, Rhys looked around at the high tech systems his crew were able to run. Rhys did not know how most of them worked. He had never needed to know. If he were forced to navigate the ship, or operate its engines, or coordinate the defence of the ship if it came under fire, then he wouldn’t know where to begin. After graduating from the Cardiff Academy, Rhys had spent a few years as a first officer, before being promoted to captain. He had never had to worry himself directly with the specialised positions on the ship’s bridge. He wasn’t helpless of course. He could operate the automated systems to pilot the ship if the pilot or navigator were unable to do so, but it was always better to let the trained professional perform their role when possible. Only once had Rhys been required to activate his ship’s autopilot – a dangerously deceptive name, for it still required a lot of control on Rhys’ behalf to safely navigate the ship through the Asteroid Belt.

After a while Rhys grew bored of sitting around with nothing to do but think. He needed something to engage his mind, or someone to talk to. He could think of just one place where he could occupy himself. He decided to see how Steph and Richard were doing, even though what they were doing was an activity he knew even less about than the logistics of the various roles of his operations crew.

So Rhys headed back down to the service levels, retracing his steps until he came to where he had last seen Richard. From there it was mainly trial and error and a considerable amount of guesswork before he was able to find the other two mustelids. He found them in a small room hidden away down the end of what felt to Rhys like a maze of corridors. Two of the walls were completely obscured by shelves, on which were the tools of Richard’s work, as well as a few trinkets he must have picked up along the way. On the back wall were several washing machines, noisily rumbling away as they cleaned a load of laundry. Tucked in the corner was a bundle of sheets that Rhys took to be Richard’s bed.

As soon as he arrived Steph and Richard hounded him with questions. On Twitch’s orders they had remained behind and so knew nothing about the altercation with Briggs. Once again Rhys retold the story, though this time he kept it simple and brief.

“And you’re all alright?” Steph asked, holding his hand up to her mouth. She did not know Briggs, but a confrontation with any human was a worry to a mustelid. Richard, who was familiar with the former services commander, was even more concerned. He knew full well of the strength and ill-temper of Briggs.

“I think the worst Twitch has from it is a slight headache. He’ll be fine,” Rhys said.

“Bloody lucky is what I’d call it. Both of you. Not many mustelids could stand up to a man like Briggs and come out of it with just a headache,” Richard said. He sounded like a father admonishing his unruly children. His tone softened somewhat. “But now I think you ought to see what we’ve been doing here.”

Behind the two mustelids was a white short sleeved shirt. Above the left breast pocket was the Spaceways insignia, threaded in gold. Apart from being a little smaller, it was otherwise identical to what Rhys had worn for the past few years.

Only the plain black trousers were different. Rhys pointed out a small hole at the back of the waist which could be done up with a single button. “What’s that for?”

Steph sniggered. “For your tail, silly.”

“Oh, right,” Rhys said, feeling a little foolish.

“Well, are you going to see if it fits? Better to adjust it now if we need to,” Richard said, offering Rhys a timely distraction. Steph, who had been going to get some more fabric to begin on the next uniform, paused and looked back.

“I’m not undressing here,” Rhys said. Evidently it wasn’t just Twitch.

“Why not?” Steph said. It sounded like she was rather disappointed as she turned back to the shelves, reaching up for something just above her head. The movement pulled her top up, revealing her lower back all the way down to the base of her tail. Rhys focused on Richard, but her movements in the background of his vision were distracting him. And like with William earlier, he couldn’t work out why he was being so distracted.

“I just... can’t” he said, instead focussing his eyes on the floor where he could see neither Richard nor Steph. Much less distracting. “I told the same to Twitch yesterday. He had the excuse of my body being his too, but what reason do you have?”

“That’s just your human self speaking there. Mustelids have fewer restrictions when it comes to modesty. Call that our animal origins if you like,” Richard explained with a toothy smile. “If you’re at all uncomfortable with removing your clothes whilst we’re watching, then we shall look the other way. But you do need to make sure they fit you properly.”

Steph was about to say something, but Richard silenced her with a glance and pulled her to the back of the room, near the rumbling machines. He held her so she wouldn’t turn around and spoke to her in a voice that didn’t carry back to Rhys over the noise of the washing machines. He thought he heard something about “chance to adjust.”

Rhys decided to get it over with quickly, and he stripped down and went to put on the trousers. He then promptly lost his balance and fell to the floor. He could hear Steph laughing, though she didn’t look around thanks to Richard’s arm, which was still around her shoulder. He finished sliding on his trousers where he sat, and then twisted around to button up the back. It was difficult as he couldn’t actually see the small button, and had to rely on touch alone. He eventually found it, and was able to return to his feet.

“Alright then,” he said as he reached down to pick up his shirt. He held it above his head and let it fall over his body.

“Very nice,” Steph said as his shirt covered his chest. It was hard to tell if she was talking about the clothes or his body. Either way he felt his cheeks flush, and he was glad of the fur that meant his reddening skin could not be seen. There must have been some other sign he was giving off though as Steph sniggered into her hand.

“It fits you well,” Richard said. At least Rhys was certain he was talking about the clothes. He looked down at Rhys’ bare feet and added, “Our legs and feet don’t owe much to shoes, so you’ll have to get used to going without them. Unless you stand on anything rather sharp, your footpads will give you just as much protection, so I doubt you’ll really notice much of a difference.”

“Haven’t so far,” Rhys said, trying to ignore Steph’s continued antics just behind Richard’s left shoulder. She was trying to distract him by sticking her tongue out. She had a very mischievous glint in her eye that Rhys wasn’t entire sure he liked. It was the type of look he recognised all too well in Twitch. Instead he slid his epaulettes – the indicator of his rank – onto his shoulders. Though Cooper had taken them from him, Admiral Garter had returned them the previous day.

“Well, you’re a proper captain again now,” Steph said when her non-vocal attempts failed to catch Rhys’ attention.

“I don’t know. Some would argue I have too much fur, and that I’m not tall enough to be a proper captain,” he countered and stuck his tongue out in response to her. He was proving he could be every bit as playful as the other mustelids. Steph chuckled again.

“I’d better let you get back to work,” Rhys said, turning serious again in a moment. He folded up Twitch’s old uniform and handed it to Richard. “I don’t think this will be needed again, do with it what you will. And thank you. Thank you both.”

“Don’t mention it,” Richard said. He took the old uniform from Rhys smiled. “It’s my job, isn’t it?”

“Oh just go and do your captain’s stuff,” Steph said, grabbing the uniform from Richard’s grasp and slinging it over her shoulder. “We do have a lot of work to do.” As much as she tried, she was unable to pull off a stern expression, and she ultimately descended into a fit of giggles.

“I’m going, don’t worry. I won’t keep you any longer,” Rhys said. He was subject then to a brief, gentle hug from Steph, and then another from Richard too.

Rhys had little left to do that day. He spent an hour locating new quarters for the mustelids; he wouldn’t allow William and Richard to go another night without anywhere decent to sleep. All of the crew’s quarters were all located on the same level of the ship, on the top floor, just above the bridge. In all there were about forty rooms, just about enough to support a large enough crew for a ship the size of the Harvester. The layout of the rooms was a fairly simple grid network that was not too challenging to successfully navigate through. The only problem was at times remembering how many corridors had to be ignored before the correct turning could be made. The rooms were all numbered with an electronic display showing the room’s occupant. This system made it fairly easy for Rhys to find three spare rooms. One of those was Briggs’ old room, which he could give to William and Richard, who he doubted would mind sharing the room. Steph’s room was only ten metres from Rhys’ own quarters and the room David could take was conveniently right next door to Cooper’s old room, which Twitch’s would inherit as the new first officer.

When Rhys eventually returned to his own quarters he found that William was still asleep. He had turned quite a bit and had become rather twisted in the sheets. The fur on his back, arms, and the top of his head was sticking up where it had still been damp.

Rhys touched William on the arm.

“I’m awake!” William said, jerking upright at the contact. He looked around frantically as he tried to work out where he was, and only calmed down once he recognised Rhys by his side. “Oh, I thought I was still...” He shuddered as he was unable to finish his sentence, but Rhys knew exactly what he meant: still down in the service levels, subject to every whim of Briggs.

“I’ve found you a room. Though as Richard doesn’t seem to have his own either, I’m going to have to ask the two of you to share it,” Rhys said.

“Yeah, he sleeps in his work room, usually. But I won’t mind sharing with him, and I’m sure he’ll appreciate the change too,” William said, sitting up and resting back on his arms. The sheet fell away from his body, revealing his chest again. Rhys looked at a point just above and behind William’s head.

“I can show you where it is, if you’d like,” Rhys said to the small air-conditioning vent he found on the wall.

“Of course I’d like that,” William said, swinging his legs out of the bed. As Rhys looked down from the wall he caught sight of the mustelid’s overalls lying in a heap on the floor. He closed his eyes slowly and breathed out. William wasn’t wearing a scrap of clothing.

“Anything wrong, Captain?” William asked. Rhys could hear him get out of the bed and step onto the floor.

“Just get some clothes on, and I’ll be fine,” Rhys said, half-turning and opening his eyes again. He could just see William out of the corner of his eye reach down to the floor to pick up his discarded overalls.

“You and your human morals,” William said. Rhys was sure William was silently laughing. He was probably shaking his head too.

“Just get something on,” Rhys said, tapping his foot through impatience and nerves.

“Alright then, Captain, I’m ready to go,” William said. Rhys slowly turned to find William fully clothed again. William looked rather contrite and sympathetic. “There’s a lot more to being a mustelid than you first thought, isn’t there?” he said.

“It’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” Rhys admitted. He wondered what other surprises would be there to greet him. He hoped that someone would have the foresight to break any other big revelations to him gently.

His old sense of hopelessness, which had been suppressed by the optimism he had been feeling from his recent success, began to re-emerge. He held on to William for support as he felt his legs begin to shake. “It’s not just learning how to use a new body; it’s a completely different way of acting, of behaving. It’s not something I can just get used to after a few days, or a few months even.”

“It’s been less than two weeks, Captain Rhys. Two weeks. If I hadn’t have known it had been that little time, I would not have believed it. You’re already passable as a natural mustelid, with just a few odd quirks from spending too much time around humans,” William said, placing his arm around Rhys’ shoulders. “Don’t worry about it too much. In time, you will become used to our behaviour. You may even adopt it as your own, too.”

Rhys hiccupped as he tried to hold back tears of frustration. He couldn’t believe he had allowed himself to fall apart again like that, especially in front of someone he had known for scant hours. He wiped his eyes and apologised.

“No need to say sorry, Captain. I can only imagine how hard this must be for you,” William said, patting Rhys on the back. Rhys ran his hand through the fur on his head. At least he was no longer repulsed by his own touch.

The rest of the night passed quickly for Rhys. He showed all of the mustelids to their quarters, and was glad to see Twitch was capable of walking unaided, almost fully recovered from Briggs’ assault, mainly thanks to the attempts of Sparks. That wasn’t to say Twitch did walk without assistance. He leant into David the entire way, clinging to his arm all the while.

Finally given a little time to himself, Rhys was able to think about the upcoming trial with certain trepidation. Ever since Cooper’s attack, he knew this would come, but somehow it had always slipped his mind that he would have to be present. It wasn’t so much speaking out against his old friend that worried him; it would be the first time he was out in the civilian public as a mustelid. He had already had bad enough reactions within Spaceways. He was unsure if it would be worse amongst civilians.

Rhys struggled to sleep, not knowing whether the rest would come.