Chapter Eight

The Normandy courtroom was packed to capacity. Although it was meant to be a quiet military trial, word had somehow gotten out that the prosecution was a mustelid. Media from as far away as Terra had made it to the small Cerian city to sit in on this historical trial. A great number of people had to be turned away. The majority of them still milled around outside, braving the cold morning air in the hope of hearing some news from the proceedings inside.

Rhys was trying his best not to pay attention to anything that was going on around him. He especially didn’t want to look over towards the defence stall, where both Cooper and Briggs were sat. Like the mustelid, the two former members of Rhys’ crew sat in silence and stared at their knees. By his side, the admiral was sifting through the notes he had prepared.

Admiral Garter turned in his seat as an angry commotion broke out at the back of the courtroom. Someone was shouting as they tried to gain entrance, but security was too strong. Rhys could hear every word that was said, and he shrunk lower in his seat as he absorbed every hateful comment that penetrated the courtroom. He held his hands over his ears and resolutely stared at the empty witness stand.

“Ignore it, Captain,” Admiral Garter said as he returned to his papers. “The voice of one does not speak for the many.”

Rhys said nothing. He could hear the murmurs from the media box above their heads. There were more than just a few that agreed with the foul mouthed intruder, but professional courtesy prevented them from speaking their minds.

Usual protocol would have called for Chancellor Roberts to oversee the hearing and to pass ultimate judgement, but he was unable to return to Ceres due to his commitments on Terra. In his stead was a local civilian judge. Judith Penfold swept in to the courtroom and took her seat at the front of the room. She adjusted her glasses as she glared down at Rhys.

“Shall we begin?” she said tersely. She folded her arms and leant back in her chair, her eyes never once deviating from Rhys.

Judge Penfold started by reading out the list of accusations held against Briggs and Cooper. Both had formally been charged with counts of gross insubordination, intent to cause grievous bodily harm, assaulting a superior officer, and, in Briggs’ case, corruption of duty, and drawing a weapon on a superior officer. It was quite a list, and it made Rhys sick to see his former friends facing the consequences of the charges, but he couldn’t back down now. Both of them could easily have killed him; Briggs had been just moments away from it.

What then followed was, to Rhys, hours of tedium and horror. First he was forced to relive the attacks from his former crew members and repeat them to a room that was steadily getting more and more hostile towards him. Despite himself, Rhys faltered on several occasions at the abuse he was subject to. He was frequently interrupted by calls of ‘slave’ or ‘abomination’ and demands that he return to his proper place in serving humans. Judge Penfold silenced the protesters with a bang of her gavel, but the respite only lasted a few minutes before the calls started anew. Rhys had never faced such hostility before and he was glad when he could finally return to his seat and slip low into Admiral Garter’s shadow.

That reprieve did not last long, as Admiral Garter was the next to stand and talk. He spent the best part of forty-five minutes detailing how he felt Rhys was still a suitable candidate for captain, and that he should be judged on his past exploits and not his new physical form. He was never explicit in his derision of the abuse Rhys had faced, but the admiral’s words were met with absolute silence. From there, Admiral Garter moved on to why Cooper and Briggs deserved to be punished for their actions. He provided a list of rights all mustelids were entitled to. It was a single page.

Rhys baulked as he read the list once it was displayed on the projector screen.

1.      All mustelids in any given area are permitted to house together and movements amongst themselves are not to be restricted.

2.      All mustelids are to be provided with basic living quarters. This includes a suitable bed.

3.      All mustelids are entitled to a workplace free of physical violence from humans.

4.      No mustelid may be kept as a pet.

That was it. There was no page two to the list. Mustelids had four rights, and one of those detailed that they couldn’t be kept as pets. Rhys suppressed a snarl as he re-read the list of rights. He had not realised matters were quite so harsh for mustelids.

Admiral Garter had drawn attention to point three.

“The defence can build their case on prejudice and hatred of mustelids if they wish. Even if we discount that Captain Griffiths is a captain of Spaceways, we can see here quite clearly that even a mustelid cannot be struck by a human without provocation or cause,” the admiral said, before going into further Spaceways legislation, as well as recounting similar cases he had dredged up from history. It was here that Rhys’ mind began to drift away. He knew he should be paying attention, but he found it hard to focus without anything to occupy himself.

Once the admiral had finished talking there was a brief adjournment for lunch. Rhys was glad to get out of the courtroom, if only briefly. Rhys and Admiral Garter were shown through to a small antechamber by a court aide, where a large platter of food was already waiting for them. Rhys’ nose twitched at the smells, but he only took a mouthful of a tuna sandwich before feeling nauseous. His stomach was too unsettled to eat more than a few mouthfuls. He perched awkwardly on a chair and twirled the tip of his black tail in his hands.

“Something on your mind, Captain?” Admiral Garter asked after a few minutes of silence.

Rhys looked up at the admiral with his ears folded right up against his head. “You heard their reaction, Admiral. I don’t think you’re going to change their minds.”

“You forget one thing, Captain. We don’t need to change their minds. The only person in that courtroom you need to worry about is Judge Penfold. Only she will pass judgement on this case and she must stand by the legislation Spaceways operates by. She has no choice but to act in our favour,” the admiral said.

“I hope you’re right, Admiral,” Rhys whispered, before descending into nervous silence again. He held the same sandwich in his hand for ten minutes before the aide returned to collect them again. The sandwich was tossed back onto the platter before Rhys scampered after the admiral. He really didn’t want to face the courtroom again, but he knew that if he were to ever make a difference in how mustelids were treated, he had to make a start here. Worse abuse would be hurled at him over the coming months and years, he was sure.

Judge Penfold was already present and waiting by the time Rhys and the admiral had returned to their seats. A few shot sharp glances towards the mustelid, but for once he was greeted with silence.

“Are we ready to resume?” Judge Penfold asked.

Admiral Garter nodded his head, and the judge turned to the other side of the courtroom and addressed Cooper and Briggs. “Does the defence have anything to say for themselves?” she asked.

Neither of the two men was represented with any legal assistance. The admiral had taken this as a sign they both knew they knew they were guilty of all charges, and there was no use in protesting. Rhys knew that had been a mistake when he saw Cooper stand. His fists were clenched and his face redder than any Rhys had seen before.

“Do we have to go through this charade any longer?” Cooper spat. “The little fucker is a mustelid, and that’s the end of it. I don’t care who he was, or who he claims to be now. He is a fucking weasel and that’s how he deserves to be treated.”

Briggs also got to his feet and placed his hands on the table as he leant forward. “You’ll have a revolt on your hands if you side with the rat,” he said. Briggs was a lot calmer than Cooper, but Rhys could still sense the rage behind his voice.

“I will not be swayed by consequence, Mr Briggs. I will judge on the facts presented to me in this courtroom and nothing more,” Judge Penfold said sternly. Her words elicited the faintest of smiles on Rhys’ face. It seemed the judge at least was not going to let herself be blinded by mustelid prejudice.

Her words were not so well received by the audience as a cry of, “You’ve got to be joking?” broke out through the resulting silence.

Judge Penfold sighed and rubbed her temples. “Any more interruptions and I’m going to start throwing people out.” She turned back to the two standing defendants. “Now I want evidence, and I want facts, for that is all I will be basing my judgements on. Do you understand me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Briggs said. He bowed his head and returned to his seat.

Cooper remained standing.

Judge Penfold pursed her lips. “Anything to add, Mr Cooper?”

“You want me to say I hit the fucker, is that right?” Cooper paused to wait for a response from the judge. It never came; Judge Penfold remained silent and stony-faced. Cooper plunged on regardless. “Well I did hit him. I tried to bash the living daylights out of him because he was a lying and disrespectful little shit. And you know what, I’d do it again rather than have scum like his kind parading about in front of humans thinking they have some sort of protection.”

Rhys winced at the words from his former first officer, and he sunk lower in his chair. The tip of his tail was frayed as he kept kneading at it with his hands. He tried to phase out Cooper’s rant, but his ears refused to shut off. He heard every word, and what was more, he heard the whispered agreements that were rippling around the courtroom.

“Is that your defence?” Judge Penfold asked. She rested her chin on her thumbs, her fingers clasped together in front of her mouth.

“Christ, don’t you get it? I don’t need a fucking defence,” Cooper exclaimed, slamming his fist down on the table.

Though Rhys flinched at the sound of his former first officer’s rage, Judge Penfold was completely unmoved by the display. She slowly lowered her hands and placed them on the desk, then leant back in her chair. “And that’s all you have to say for yourself?”

“Fuck! Yes!” Cooper exploded, throwing his arms into the air in exasperation. “Now, can we please finish this up? Captain LeFavre needs me for orientation on his ship.” Cooper started to make a move for the exit at the back of the courtroom, but he was halted by the security guard at his side.

Judge Penfold ignored the actions of Cooper and addressed Briggs. “Have you anything to add to Mr Cooper’s defence?”

Briggs stood, but kept looking down at his feet. “Nothing ma’am,” he mumbled. “I accept I did wrong, though I disagree with the mustelid continuing in a position of rank.”

“That is not a matter of relevance for this court, Mr Briggs,” Judge Penfold said. The former services commander nodded once and returned to his seat. “If that is all the defence is offering, then I have no choice but to find you both guilty of all charges.”

Cooper’s incredulous howl was matched by the derisive shouts from the media box. Rhys was forced to cover his ears in a futile attempt to block out the abuse that was being directed at him. Admiral Garter and Judge Penfold were not spared from the vocal scorn, but with a few bangs of her gavel, the judge was able to restore order.

Her face was thunderous as she addressed the room at large. “I have never known a court full of such contempt of law,” she snarled. “Prejudice has no place within these walls, and the letter of the law is upheld without question.

“Both of you are to be expelled from Spaceways,” the judge continued, pointing her gavel at the two defendants. Briggs still did not look up, but Cooper was cracking his knuckles as though plotting to leap over the benches and assault the judge directly. “You will not be permitted to reapply for any military organisation. You will not be permitted to approach Captain Griffiths or anyone on his crew. You may remain on Ceres if you wish, but you will not be permitted to access any Spaceways property. Do I make myself clear?”

“You have no right,” Cooper shouted, again rising to his feet and pushing away the attentions of his security guard.

Judge Penfold slammed her gavel down again. “I have been appointed by Spaceways to pass judgement on this case using only the facts presented to me. My judgement is law. Case dismissed.”

Without waiting for any retort from Cooper, Judge Penfold stalked out of the courtroom, leaving behind a room almost on the verge of riot. Cooper was being held down by security, while a number of pens and other small objects had been flung down from the media box. Security did their job though, and slowly people were shepherded out of the courtroom before anyone was able to actively threaten Rhys or Admiral Garter.

Rhys sunk down in his seat as the courtroom emptied. His heart was still racing, and he winced at the distant threats that emanated in from outside. “That has to be the first time a mustelid has won in court,” he said quietly to Admiral Garter, who paused in gathering together the papers he had spread on the desk in front of him.

“It was a victory that could have gone no other way.”

“But only a small one. There’s a lot still to be done,” Rhys whispered before he knew what he was saying.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Captain,” Admiral Garter warned. He adjusted his glasses and looked down at Rhys. “I don’t want you doing anything rash. You may have faced some opposition here, but Chancellor Roberts is content keeping you, and is still considering you as my eventual successor. You mustn’t do anything to damage that.”

“I understand, Admiral,” Rhys said in a suitably apologetic tone. The idea that Twitch and the other mustelids had planted in his mind was not expelled that easily though. He would still do all he could to help improve how the mustelids were treated here and throughout TIE. Prejudice was a hard thing to overcome, but Rhys would not back down from the task just because he had been threatened in court. He just needed to be careful not to incur the wrath of Chancellor Roberts.

“Good. Now get going. I have a lot of work to do that surprisingly enough doesn’t involve you,” Admiral Garter said, waving Rhys away.

Leaving the admiral alone, Rhys scurried out of the courtroom, using the back entry to avoid the crowd he could still hear outside. He emerged in the twilit streets of Normandy. Large by Cerian standards, Normandy was home to about twelve thousand citizens, plus a further thousand housed at the spaceport just outside its borders.

Like the rest of Ceres, the city of Normandy was aging. The few tourists that visited the town described the red-brick buildings as quaint, reminiscent of a time long since passed on Terra. In reality it was because the Cerian government couldn’t be bothered jumping through all the administrative hoops set by Terra to modernise its cities and facilities.

It was fairly late and the sun was already close to the horizon. Despite his fur and the thick coat that Rhys had pulled around him he was still cold. The temperature plummeted very quickly on Ceres.

Rhys was halfway back when he realised he was no longer alone. He could hear footsteps behind him, steadily getting closer. He spun around and was only slightly surprised to see Cardinal Erik tailing him. The cardinal started, but this time didn’t flee. He was holding rosary beads in one hand, raised above his head.

“You may have got out of that courtroom without punishment but you have still been touched by the Devil, Rhys,” Cardinal Erik said, his eyes wide, bloodshot, and completely unblinking. He pointed an accusing finger at Rhys. “Your body has become the flesh of the accursed, but if you repent your sins to me I may be able to save your soul.”

“What?” was the only response Rhys was able to muster. He was backing away now, but still the cardinal walked forwards. He was close enough now that Rhys was able to see each fervent blood vessel in his eyes, every fleck of spit that burst forth from his mouth. The cardinal was a short man, but Rhys still needed to make up an extra foot in height to look eye-to-eye with the crazed Martian.

“I have been watching you. I take back my words of the other day. You have not fallen yet. Your heart is still pure, Rhys Griffiths. It is still uncorrupted by this unseemly body of yours. It is not yet too late,” the cardinal raved. He tried to slip the rosary beads around Rhys’ neck, but the mustelid darted to the side.

“My soul is fine, thank you. And for the record, this is not the work of Satan,” Rhys said, removing his coat and unbuttoning his shirt. He threw his arms wide, exposing his white-furred chest to the bitterly cold air. “This is the result of coincidence. Of chance. Nothing more.”

Cardinal Erik recoiled from the sight. His expression altered from fervent passion to unbridled hatred like the flick of a switch. “Fool. You had but one chance to redeem yourself and it is gone. Enjoy the fires of Hell, Satan-spawn,” the cardinal said, before storming off towards the spaceport without a backwards glance.

“Mustelids aren’t evil,” Rhys shouted after him, but he may well have stayed silent for all the reaction he got from the cardinal. He was soon completely alone again. Wrapping himself back up against the cold, he returned to the spaceport to find Twitch.

The following day Rhys tried to put Cardinal Erik’s words out of his mind. Twitch had told him that had been a fairly standard reaction from a cardinal, with one crucial exception. They had never before accepted, no matter how grudgingly, a mustelid’s refusal for redemption. It had been of Twitch’s opinion that it would also never happen again.

Rhys was therefore glad to see that Cardinal Erik was not present at the following morning’s briefing. Rhys had been summoned to the briefing room earlier that morning, though he was not told the reasons why. For the first time in months, the captain’s meeting didn’t have to take place in the control tower; repairs had finally been done to the previously-unusable briefing room. It was the first sign that things were perhaps starting to look better for the Normandy spaceport.

Rhys was the last to arrive; Admiral Garter and Captains LeFavre and Baron were already waiting for him, though he was not late. There were a few more frowns on their faces than there had been since the wave of recent optimism in the briefings, stemming from the averted crisis with the Dawn.

Skipping any formalities or greeting, Admiral Garter filled Rhys in. “In the past hour we have had communication from both the Holy See on Mars, and Windsor Castle. In short, Pope Adamantius has expressed his personal displeasure that a mustelid has been permitted to hold a position of power within our organisation.”

Rhys rested his hands on the briefing table, losing confidence in his ability to remain standing without aid. His throat felt constricted as Admiral Garter continued.

“Windsor Castle was in contact ten minutes later. They reminded us that neither they nor the Papacy can directly interfere with our organisation, they nevertheless advised against defying Adamantius’ wishes. However, until I get explicit orders from my superiors, you will be maintaining your rank and duties with us.”

Rhys breathed a sigh of relief. This had been what he had feared: that the Vatican would try to use their influence to remove him from Spaceways. Admiral Garter had stood firm to the pressure. Rhys had received a stay of execution. He also felt a little light headed at the news. That he was a cause for concern for the likes of Pope Adamantius and the highest echelon of TIE governance and its monarchy was a little hard to comprehend. These were some of the most important humans in history, and they were talking directly about him.

“With all due respect, Admiral, but why?” Captain LeFavre’s dry voice cut across Rhys’ musings.

The question seemed to shock Admiral Garter. “Why? Because I continue to have utmost confidence in Captain Rhys’ ability to perform the job to an exceptional standard.”

“He’s not fit for duty. He never will be,” Captain LeFavre countered.

“He’s also standing right next to you,” Rhys bristled, suppressing with immense difficulty an animalistic snarl that would not have gone down well in present company or circumstances.

Captain LeFavre shook his head sadly. “No. Rhys Griffiths as we knew him is no more. You may think you’re him, but you’re not,” he said, as Rhys stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Explain yourself, Captain LeFavre,” Admiral Garter said with a touch of impatience.

“I’ve been watching him, Admiral,” Captain LeFavre said with a dismissive shrug. He continued to talk as though Rhys couldn’t hear him. “He’s no longer human. He looks, thinks, and acts like a mustelid because that’s all he is now.”

“And who are you to know what a mustelid thinks, LeFavre? Have you ever known one?”

“I’ve worked with hundreds.”

“No you haven’t. They’ve worked for you, not with you. You just treat them as mindless slaves.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what they are, essentially.”

“No they’re not.” Rhys’ voice had dropped to a whisper that still reverberated around the room, such was the silence that accompanied it. He took a deep breath to try and contain his anger, which utterly failed. “Have you ever seen a mustelid smile? Have you ever seen one happy? Or sad? Have you seen one scared? Have you seen a mustelid love?”

Rhys breathed heavily as Captain LeFavre took his time answering. “No, I haven’t,” came the eventual reply.

“No, you haven’t, have you. You don’t give them the chance. They’re every bit as intelligent as humans, and a damn sight better company,” Rhys yelled. His voice wasn’t as powerful as it had once been, but was still loud enough to stun Captain LeFavre into a few seconds of silence.

Before Captain LeFavre was able to recompose himself, Admiral Garter cut in.

“Enough of this bickering, both of you. Captain Griffiths, your passion for this is admirable, but this is not the time to discuss such matters. And Captain LeFavre, yesterday I saw two men dismissed for acts of gross insubordination. Continue questioning my judgement like this and I will not hesitate to make it three.”

Rhys and Captain LeFavre both ducked their heads, sufficiently rebuked for the time being, though Rhys knew Captain LeFavre would pick up the argument again as soon as the admiral wasn’t present.

“If I may offer something...” Captain Baron started to say as he stared at Rhys.

“No, you may not,” Admiral Garter snapped. He put his hand over his eyes. “Captain Baron, Captain LeFavre, leave us now. We’ll reconvene same time tomorrow morning when we can be more civil to each other. I don’t want either of you approaching Captain Griffiths or his crew in the meanwhile.”

Though Captain LeFavre looked like he was about to protest this sudden dismissal, he perhaps quite wisely considered otherwise and left just after Captain Baron. Rhys had caught sight of the look Admiral Garter had given the captain. The mustelid feared what would happen if the admiral turned to him with the same expression.

Thankfully, the admiral’s expression softened slightly as he turned away from the door, which Captain LeFavre had closed behind him. Rhys knew that if the door had been one that Captain LeFavre could have slammed he would have thrown it off its hinges. As it was though, even Normandy had doors that simply slid shut with a very mellow hiss and click.

“I would say control your temper, but that seems to be a bit of an impossibility with you, Captain Griffiths,” the admiral said, removing his glasses and placing them on the table.

“I... Admiral... you heard what he said!” Rhys blustered, for a few moments outraged that the admiral could not understand that his anger had been provoked and was thoroughly justified. His concerns were allayed though when Admiral Garter gestured for Rhys to calm down.

“Easy, Captain. I can only begin to understand the difficulties you are facing. A little anger is expected. Just try and control where and when you release it,” the admiral said. “As it is, you shouldn’t have to worry about Captain LeFavre any longer. I have been able to find an opening for you on Terra.”

Rhys nodded. He was elated by this piece of news. He had been looking forward to getting away from this place ever since Admiral Garter had first proposed the idea. “Where will I be going, Admiral?”

“It may be a place on Terra, but it’s far away from London. One of the ships in Brisbane has been decommissioned, so I’m sending you there to fill up the numbers until a permanent replacement is found,” the admiral replied. “You’ll be there for a month, maybe less. Captain Rivers is the resident captain, with Captains Sykes and Uwele currently stationed there. I trust they’ll make you feel welcome.

“I shall alert ground control and your crew of the Harvester’s imminent departure,” the admiral concluded after a brief pause. Then Admiral Garter left Rhys’ alone in the briefing room, the mustelid’s earlier rage vanishing with this piece of good news.

Rhys sat down at the table, hugged his legs and smiled. He had been to Brisbane a couple of times before, mainly on day trips from the much larger port in Sydney. He had never spent much time there, but it was a nice little city, not all that much larger than Normandy, though much heavier populated. It was also one of the most modernised cities on Terra. It was going to be like stepping into a world fifty years in the future. Rhys couldn’t wait.

Rhys thought it prudent to at least oversee the preliminary checks that his operations crew were required to undergo the night before launch. As Rhys had expected, everything was running to perfection on the bridge. Admiral Garter had informed Scott that they were to ready themselves for their departure, and Scott had assumed the role of preparing the ship for precisely that. No one expected the ship to be anything but prepared. It was mostly just running checks and confirming what was already known. The same thing would have to be done when they were finally ready to leave in the morning.

Rhys just leant on the back wall and watched. There always had to be someone orchestrating the preparatory checks, and in the initial absence of both captain and first officer, it was the navigator Scott who was relishing the chance to show off his ability to command. He was quite a leader, and were it not for his exceptional ability as a navigator, Rhys would probably have considered him a very suitable candidate for a first officer’s role, with great potential for a ship of his own in the coming years.

All six members of the senior operations crew worked in perfect tandem with each other. They had to do so. At any given time, there were only eight senior officers in the operations crew in seven different roles that controlled the entire ship in flight, including the captain and first officer. It was a massive feat for such a complicated device. But to be appointed on the operations crew of a ship, they had to be an expert at the precise role they did after completing many years of training. Rhys had made quite an exception with Twitch, but he was confident that they would be able to use the time on Terra to train Twitch into a very capable first officer.

“Good work, gentlemen,” Scott said when the last check was completed: making certain the ion thrusters were fully charged. There was absolutely nothing amiss. The ship was perfect, as everyone had expected.

“Mr Scott, a word if you would,” Rhys said once everyone had finished. It was the first time anyone had even noticed Rhys’ presence.

Scott approached Rhys nervously. One by one the other five crew members present left the bridge. Their work was done, and they had no wish to witness the exchange between their captain and the navigator. As they left, Rhys tried to read their expressions, but found them remarkably difficult to read.

He lamented the fact that humans didn’t use their ears to express themselves, surprising himself how quickly he had come to rely on them for reading emotion. His body’s natural instincts were making the transition remarkably quick and smooth. It was as though Rhys had always used his ears to convey his emotion, and to use others’ to read their feelings. One he was able to interpret though was Dewson’s, who was the last to leave. Guilt was etched on his young face. He regretted his actions of the other day, when he had drawn his weapon on his captain.

Scott had noticed the object of Rhys’ gaze, and this seemed to be a matter he wanted to discuss. “Captain, Mr Dewson wanted to pass on his apologies for...” Scott said once the bridge was empty but for the two of them, but Rhys stopped him by raising his hand.

“Can you tell him that that’s behind us, and let’s just move on,” Rhys said, waving aside Scott’s concerns. But discussing Dewson’s worries was not the reason Rhys had called Scott over. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the prelim checks run so quickly before. You’re a natural leader, and had circumstances been different, and you weren’t so bloody good a navigator, you’d be first officer right now.”

Scott looked down at Rhys with his arms folded and mouth slightly open in an expression Rhys found very hard to read. Again, Rhys had caught himself staring at Scott’s ears in hope they might betray the human’s thoughts, but to no avail. They remained motionless.

“It’s a compliment, take it,” Rhys said when Scott continued to say nothing, and he gave up trying to work out the navigator’s expression.

“Thank you then, Captain,” Scott said. He was amused now, but that did not carry over into his voice. “I heard about who you appointed to replace Cooper.” A declaration of fact. There was no indication in Scott’s voice how he felt about Rhys’ decision.

“Anything further you’d like to add to that, Mr Scott?”

“No, nothing at all. Just surprised, that’s all. I think you caught a few people off guard.”

“Well if you have no concerns, I have a favour I’d like to ask of you. Mr Hall is a very intelligent and capable man, but he’s a little inexperienced. I’ll be working with him a lot to help him, but I’d like to ask you to assist as well, to help train him as first officer,” Rhys said. Again with the confusing expression. He could not tell if Scott thought his request a good idea or a bad one. Rhys decided to just keep on talking until Scott gave him a better indication to his emotions. “We’ll have about a month on Terra to get him up to speed. After that, it’s mostly learning on the go.”

“There’s a lot to be learnt in on the spot moments,” Scott replied, still not really giving much away.

Rhys could see some logic in that, but he still wanted Twitch to have all the help he could get before he was forced to make such decisions. With both captain and first officer in a completely unprecedented situation – no mustelid had ever been permitted onto a Spaceways bridge before, let alone assume a position of command on one – Rhys wanted to make things as simple as possible for the both of them. He needed the help of as many senior members of his crew as possible.

Scott had also been thinking. “I’ll help,” he said as he unfolded his arms. “Between the two of us he won’t just be a good first officer; he’ll be the best officer this ship has seen.”

“And him being a mustelid doesn’t hinder that?” Rhys asked. His intention wasn’t to provoke any reaction from Scott, but it was a final test of the navigator’s determination to prove his continued loyalty to Rhys.

“I think the correct answer to that is why should it hinder him?” Scott said. He had passed with ease. There hadn’t really been much doubt in Rhys’ mind. He had already been pretty sure both he had Twitch would have Scott’s support.

“Excellent answer, Mr Scott. Very well. Thank you again for an exemplary prelim check. I want everyone back here nice and early for departure tomorrow,” Rhys said. He was unable to suppress a grin as he dismissed Scott. Since Briggs had attacked him, which was in itself a massive blow, things hadn’t exactly gone brilliantly. The behaviour of both Captain LeFavre and Cardinal Erik had unnerved him, but now things may be starting to improve again. The fact that Dewson was willing to make an apology, albeit through Scott, gave the impression that the young man was still willing to serve under his captain. Already Rhys believed he could count on the support of three of his operations crew.

It was only when he locked himself into his quarters that night did Rhys realise that he wasn’t just leaving two of his enemies behind. He would also be without Admiral Garter for the first time since his transformation. He hadn’t even started to consider the sort of reaction he’d get in Brisbane. While he was sure Admiral Garter wouldn’t send him anywhere he’d be in direct danger, he was suddenly very fearful of a negative reaction upon landing on Terra. He felt hot, almost feverish with worry. Though he was leaving Ceres, the place of so many bad memories and experiences, he also knew everyone around. He knew who he should avoid, and what reactions he could expect from certain people. He had no idea who would be waiting for him in Brisbane. And he wouldn’t have the protection of Admiral Garter there. He would need to secure the loyalty of as many of his crew as he could before arriving on Terra.

So hot with worry was he that Rhys never even made it to his bed. Instead he lay on the cool floor beside it, dragging one of the sheets down and bundling it up into a pillow. He slept there, his limbs twitching fitfully as he dreamt. The hours counted down before he could finally leave this place behind him.