Chapter Three

Perversely, morning came to Ceres with the setting of the midnight sun. As the darkness got deeper, so did the moods of Rhys and Admiral Garter, despite the glowing optimism they had woken up with. The two had started the day productively, working on a suitable story they could tell the authorities on Terra that would shine the brightest light on their efforts, whilst urging for greater support for the neglected spaceport. Then they had been joined by Cardinal Erik and things had gone downhill from there. Not once since had the situation looked like recovering.

To be fair, it was not entirely the cardinal’s fault. It was largely an inconvenience of timing on his behalf. But he was certainly responsible for much of the sudden decrease of the moods of Rhys and Admiral Garter. He had, it appeared, been in direct contact with Pope Adamantius. The Vatican leader had not been too amused by the previous day’s proceedings. The Terrestrial Dawn had been carrying Vatican personnel, another cardinal to be exact. Ever since the defection of the Dawn, the Vatican had received no contact from their cardinal. Pope Adamantius had demanded answers. Neither Rhys nor Admiral Garter could provide any. Neither of them had been aware of a cardinal’s presence on the Dawn.

And Pope Adamantius was not the only one seeking an explanation. A message came through barely half an hour later from Terra. Emperor Neicwyk was similarly not impressed by the loss of the Dawn. Chancellor Roberts would be making the trip from Terra to Ceres to personally receive the answers from Rhys and Admiral Garter on behalf of the emperor. The chancellor would be arriving the following day.

There had been no word from Pope Adamantius as to whether he would be sending anyone to extract answers from the Normandy spaceport as to the whereabouts of his cardinal, or that of the Terrestrial Dawn. The presence of Cardinal Erik was enough for Rhys’ sanity. He hoped another cardinal didn’t come.

Presently the admiral took his leave to inspect the grounds. Even though there was no further threat from the Dawn, he had still ordered the defence systems to be activated, so he could better prepare a report to hand to the chancellor on his arrival, or so he claimed. Rhys wondered if the cardinal’s presence had anything to do with the admiral’s departure. Still, he understood why a report needed to be made of the port. If they knew exactly how bad a condition the Normandy defences had been allowed to fall to, it might make their situation a lot more tenable. There was no real doubt in either of their minds that the chancellor’s visit did not bode well for one or both of them. Or any of the captains present, for that matter. Rhys was sure someone had to be blamed for the incident, even if none of those present had contributed to the situation.

Rhys sent word back to the Harvester to request Cooper’s presence in the control tower. Together they might be able to predict the chancellor’s intentions. While he waited for his first officer Rhys had just Cardinal Erik for company, but the Vatican emissary didn’t seem willing to talk. Instead he sat in the corner, glaring at Rhys from under the brim of his oversized hat.

It wasn’t long before Cooper arrived at the control tower, and he wasn’t alone. Captain LeFavre accompanied him. They were both in the middle of a very animated conversation, though they ended it almost as soon as they came into the control room.

“I’ve just spoken with Admiral Garter,” Captain LeFavre said, completely ignoring the presence of the cardinal. “I’ve had quite a bit of experience with Chancellor Roberts, and I know him to be harsh, but fair. He’ll understand that the defences here are compromised. There won’t be a scrap of punishment issued, and it should give Terra a good kick up the ass to supply money and resources to get this place operational again. In fact, he was captain here about three decades ago. He won’t like to see this place falling so far into decline.”

“Didn’t know he was captain here,” Rhys muttered. Hardly surprising, he added in thought. If Captain LeFavre’s timeframe was right, then Chancellor Roberts had left his position as captain when Rhys had just been a small child. Captain LeFavre, who was about twenty years Rhys’ senior, would actually be able to remember Chancellor Roberts as a captain, given Rhys knew the man had grown up in the city of Normandy, one of the oldest cities on Ceres, in whose outskirts the spaceport was located.

Rhys on the other hand, was a Terran. He had been born and raised in Britain, not far from the Cardiff Spaceport. It was the largest and most advanced ports not just on Terra, but in the entire empire. It was there that Rhys had graduated into the Spaceways with all the plaudits possible for a man of his age. His instructors had tipped him to be a captain within five years. That estimate was only a day out, with Rhys being promoted to captain of the Harvester a single day after the fifth anniversary of his graduation. It had taken just another four years to put himself in the running for admiral. No one had become admiral after just ten years in the Spaceways, and no one had done it under the age of forty either. Rhys was both of those.

“Yes, he was captain of Ceres for twelve years,” Captain LeFavre said, dragging Rhys back out of his musings. “Trust me on this one, you’ll leave the Olympus tomorrow with more respect from the chancellor for the way you handled things, not less.”

Rhys offered a non-committal reply. It was like Admiral Garter had said. He needed to impress the chancellor if he were to make it as admiral. And here was the perfect opportunity to gain the respect he needed. He still wasn’t sure if he could be dishonest with the chancellor, and himself, to say that he had been the one responsible for the ongoing safety of Ceres, when it had in fact never even been under threat.

Captain LeFavre hadn’t finished waxing lyrical about Chancellor Roberts though. “The man is practically fair to a fault. I heard he even gave a mustelid a fair trial over a petty theft charge. Found it guilty of course, but I wouldn’t even have bothered with the trial, you know? I’d have just locked it straight up.”

That suddenly reminded Rhys of the two mustelids that had been locked away in the Harvester’s medical bay the previous night. “Mr Cooper, have you dealt with our two patients from yesterday?” he asked of his first officer.

“I checked in on them, sir, yes. The door was already unlocked when I got there and the mustelids gone. I assume Doctor Sparks had already seen to them,” Cooper replied.

“You had mustelids in your medical bay last night?” LeFavre asked.

“One of them was injured whilst running repairs on the Europa. Mr Cooper here took them on board so he could receive treatment,” Rhys replied. “Two of your mustelids, I assume?”

LeFavre laughed without humour, but with relief. “I hope so. It would explain the missing ones,” he said. “When two of them didn’t sign back in last night I must admit I got a bit worried that they’d found their way to the Dawn.”

“Sorry to cause you grief, but no mustelid made it to the Dawn. Everyone on that shuttle was human,” Rhys replied, trying to keep his accusations of the defected men and women from his voice.

LeFavre laughed again. “Don’t worry about it. It’s all cleared up now,” he said with a casual wave of his hand. “And besides, what’s the loss of a couple of mustelids anyway?”

 Rhys shrugged. The mustelids served their purposes, no doubt. He was sure that if the two had found their way to the Dawn then Captain LeFavre would be furious about their loss. He wasn’t in any mood though to raise this point with the Cerian. Despite what Captain LeFavre had to say on the matter, Rhys was still very nervous about the meeting with Chancellor Roberts.

He took his leave of the control tower shortly after, preferring to brood alone inside the Harvester. Rhys didn’t really have anything better to do that just that. He had been rostered on to oversee a training session in the rifle ranges, but he’d received word that the ranges were out of commission due to an electrical fault. Unlike Captain LeFavre, he had no other official duties to fulfil, and unlike Admiral Garter he had nothing to prepare in anticipation of the chancellor’s visit. Nothing except words. His only responsibilities at present lay in the well being of his ship, and that was in perfect working order.

For hours Rhys alternated between pacing his quarters and lying awake on his bed, unmoving. Outside the spaceport the sun had rose and was now beginning to set again for the second time that day. Rhys’ internal conflict raged on the entire time. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to be promoted to admiral. There wouldn’t be a single captain who didn’t want that honour. But Rhys wasn’t sure if he would be capable of lying to the chancellor in an attempt to earn his respect.

That was when a possible solution struck him. Whoever said that he had to lie through his teeth about what had happened on the Dawn? All he had to do was be careful with what he said. Tell the truth, but don’t tell him absolutely everything that did, or did not, happen. It would certainly go a long way to easing Rhys’ conscience, and appeasing the chancellor in the process. After all, Rhys thought to himself with a smile, wasn’t that what anyone in a position of power did?

All Rhys had left to do now was to wait for the arrival of the Olympus.

Come the next morning, Rhys had worked himself back into a state of anxiety, despite his plan to simply obscure some of the truth. He had hardly slept all night and his morning rituals lasted a lot longer than usual just to make himself presentable. In an attempt to make himself appear more impressive for the chancellor, he had worn his official coat usually only reserved for formal occasions. The long, thick coat was almost unbearably hot to wear, even in the cool Cerian summer, but Rhys had to admit it was visually very striking. As he was to be using the teleporters again, he remembered this time not to wear his customary black leather shoes.

True to the word of Admiral Garter, the Olympus locked into orbit around Ceres just before the morning sunset hit the spaceport. It appeared as just a single pinprick of light against the dark red sky. Clouds were brewing in the east as another storm threatened in the distance.

Rhys had to endure another long wait by the teleporters while Admiral Garter was on the Olympus. The chancellor had wanted to see them one at a time, and had requested the presence of the admiral first.

The shuttles had apparently suffered a guidance system fault, a problem that could not be fixed until later in the afternoon. That had ruled them out completely to transport people to and from the Olympus, a fact that annoyed Rhys greatly.

Finally the call came for Rhys to board the Olympus. The admiral had not come back through the teleporter, so he must still be on board the chancellor’s ship. Rhys was undecided as to whether that was a good or bad sign, or even if it was a sign in the first place.

With trepidation, Rhys stepped onto the teleporter and felt the familiar numb tingling that so unnerved him. He tried not to blink as the light blazed around him, and then quite suddenly he was on the Olympus. He had barely stumbled out of the teleporter and into a small room when there was someone to meet him.

“Captain Griffiths, welcome to the Olympus,” a young woman said. She smiled brightly at Rhys in a manner that only made his nerves feel so much worse. “I’m Cadet Officer Melanie Carpenter. If you’ll follow me I can take you to the chancellor. He should be ready to see you now.”

“Right,” Rhys said, not really listening to Melanie.

It had been a long time since Rhys had last been on a civilian spaceship. Whilst the bridge was identical to a military vessel, it was beyond this that there were major differences. Instead of the utilitarian corridors of the crew’s quarters, there were spacious dining and recreation areas, and the quarters themselves were more attributed to comfort than the military crafts. The ship was also somewhat larger than those used by Spaceways to accommodate all this. However, as the Olympus was on official business, it was mostly empty, with just a small crew left to operate it.

Melanie didn’t even try to breach the conversation barrier as she led Rhys up to Chancellor Roberts’ quarters, though she glanced back a few times to make sure the captain was still following her.

Rhys’ heart was hammering at his ribs. He couldn’t remember being so nervous before; not the day he had first gone into the Cardiff Spaceways Academy; not the day he had graduated; not even the first time he had captained his own ship. This meeting was going to determine the course of his continued career in Spaceways.

Only once they reached their destination did Melanie turn around completely and offer her hand to Rhys. “Good luck in there, Captain,” she said. She was gone before Rhys could drag his mind into the present and offer a coherent response.

Rhys paused for just a moment before opening the door in front of him. The room beyond looked more like an office than a bedroom, and it probably was used as such. His sleeping quarters were probably situated elsewhere. The office was a grand affair, with classic artworks hung on the wall. Rhys’ inexpert eyes recognised a rare Van Gough replica; the originals of course long since claimed by extreme age.

The chancellor was sat behind a large desk in the centre of the room. He was about the same age as Admiral Garter, if not a few years older. His wiry mane of grey hair looked quite regal, and rather complemented his pale blue eyes. The many lines in his face held a friendly tone to them, but Rhys had no doubt this man could look threatening and intimidating in just a moment. He had seen it once before, though thankfully he was not the target of the chancellor’s wrath on that occasion.

“Please take a seat, Captain,” Chancellor Roberts said in a soft voice, gesturing to one of the three chairs in front of his desk. Rhys took the centre one, flicking the tail of his coat to the side so he didn’t scrunch it up badly. “Admiral Garter will be returning to Ceres momentarily. He explained everything that occurred on the ground to me; especially the inadequacies of the defences here, which will be looked into. But I now need to know what happened on the Terrestrial Dawn.”

“Where should I begin?” Rhys asked, even now unsure about what he should say.

“Try the start,” Chancellor Roberts said, not unkindly.

Rhys took a deep breath. “As an old friend of Captain Lee, I was chosen to –”

“Sorry to interrupt you so soon, but did Mr Lee give a reason for his defection? I forgot to ask Admiral Garter,” Chancellor Roberts said, leaning forward in his seat.

“I never asked Captain Lee. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know,” Rhys said. Chancellor Roberts slumped against the back of his chair again. With a wave of his hand, the chancellor requested Rhys to continue. “At Captain LeFavre’s suggestion, I was chosen to speak with Captain Lee, as I knew him very well, and I would be able to determine what would be best to say. The first thing Captain Lee did was offer me a place in the CGP, which I rejected immediately. I would not turn my back on the emperor like he did.”

“Good to hear,” Chancellor Roberts said with a wry smile, but said nothing further.

“We knew we could not prevent the Dawn from leaving. Our ships were inactive and compromised by being surface-bound, and I’m sure Admiral Garter would have told you that the defences are substandard. We had no choice but to allow the people who wanted to transfer to the Dawn to do so. My presence on the Dawn was to make sure Captain Lee did not open fire once they had boarded,” Rhys said carefully. There was no lie in his words. He had just not informed the Chancellor that Aaron had not ever intended to open fire.

“And evidently you were successful,” Chancellor Roberts said quietly with an approving nod of his head.

“Evidently,” Rhys repeated, quieter.

“Well that’s all I need to hear,” Chancellor Roberts said.

Rhys was stunned. He had thought there would be more questioning, more interrogation. This was just a couple of minutes of explaining. “That’s all?” he said, before adding to sound more respectful, “Chancellor?”

“The Terrestrial Dawn’s loss is unfortunate, but the blame cannot be placed on any person here. Ceres has long been vulnerable. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened,” the chancellor said. He slowly stood, producing a cane from behind his desk to lean on, adding years to his apparent age in an instant. “Have trust in knowing that I will speak to Emperor Neicwyk at the first given opportunity about this matter.

“You seem to be a good man and an excellent Captain, Mr Griffiths. As I’m sure you’re already aware, Admiral Garter is considering retirement soon. Though I have been asking for his list of recommendations for replacements, he insists on sending back just the one name: yours. So unless you do anything particularly despicable in the next year, I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot more of you in the future. You may leave now,” the Chancellor said, grasping Rhys’ hand in his free one and shook it profusely.

“Thank you, Chancellor,” Rhys felt was the appropriate response as he rose from his seat, before retreating from the room. The last Rhys saw of the chancellor before the doors slid shut was of the aged man slumping wearily into his seat.

Rhys allowed himself a brief smile of relief before retracing his steps back to the unpleasant trip in the teleporter. He passed by the bridge on the way down; it appeared like the ship was getting ready to depart already. It was as though Chancellor Roberts had known that he wouldn’t be staying for long; that he didn’t need to find someone to blame.

“Over here Captain,” Melanie called out. She was standing by the door that led through to the teleporters. She guided him through and told him that he should expect a five minute wait before the teleport. Then she was gone again, leaving Rhys alone to enter the teleporter room.

Unlike on Ceres, the controls for the teleporter, along with the attendant, were in a different room to the actual teleporter. But even so, Rhys was surprised to find he was not the only one in the room.

A mustelid was there too, and he turned at the sound of the door closing. His face brightened considerably when he looked up and recognised Rhys. “Captain!” he said as though greeting an old friend. “You remember me, right?”

Rhys, who had always had difficulties indentifying individual mustelids he was not familiar with, hesitated. If he had to guess it would be...

“Twitch, remember? With the spanner?” the mustelid said excitedly, miming throwing something up into the air and catching it. Rhys had been correct. It was the maniacally hyperactive one that had been injured on the Europa. Twitch correctly assumed Rhys’ silence was an indication that he did remember, but clearly misinterpreted the reason Rhys had remained silent. “Bet you’re wondering why I’m here, huh?”

The thought had not crossed Rhys’ mind. “Well...”

“Just a few small repairs in the cargo bay. I was the best for the job, they said. Or they just wanted to get rid of me for a few hours. I can never tell,” Twitch continued without even waiting for Rhys’ answer. “Got to go back down and fix the shuttles now. They fried themselves again.”

Despite himself, Rhys had to question that. “Fried?”

“Circuits sizzled,” Twitch said before bursting into laughter for no reason Rhys could fathom other than his use of alliteration.

A voice across the loudspeakers interrupted them. “Alright Captain Griffiths, you can go through now,” it said.

“Let the mustelid go through first. He has important work to do,” Rhys replied to the room in general. His reasoning was entirely selfish. He wanted to delay his teleport for as long as he possibly could.

“If you wish, Captain,” the loudspeaker said. The voice took on a barely discernible harsher note. “Step inside the teleporter, mustelid.”

“Thank you, Captain. Again,” Twitch said with his childish grin. He positively leapt into the teleporter, showing no sign of the fear that Rhys felt. Twitch was still beaming as the door closed. With a burst of blinding light, the mustelid was gone.

The delay was only a matter of ten seconds or so before the loudspeaker spoke up again. “Okay Captain, everything is all clear for you now.”

Rhys could not put it off any longer. The door closed behind him and the numb tingling promptly began as he turned around. Once again he resisted the temptation to shield his eyes as the white light grew and intensified around him.

There should have been absolute silence, but something clicked loudly.

Everything went black.