Chapter Ten

Leandro’s plan couldn’t come into effect immediately. As Rhys was soon to learn there would be at least a couple of weeks of preparation and planning before they could even begin. Despite his assurances that he would be involved, Rhys kept himself to the side whenever Leandro gathered them together for the many planning sessions. Now that things we being set in motion he was starting to get very nervous if ever he got implicated. There was nothing for him but Spaceways; there hadn’t been anything else for a very long time.

Whenever he could, Rhys stayed away from the old jail, where Leandro spent most of his time. Unable to leave the spaceport as he lacked accreditation to bypass the secured gates, Rhys walked the expansive grounds. He was usually accompanied by Steph, who claimed to have no interest in organising rebellious missions. William would also occasionally join them, but Rhys suspected that Twitch had put him on to it, as William had surprised even Leandro with the passion he had put into carrying out the grey-furred mustelid’s plan.

Together they explored the spaceport and within a week had run out of new places to find. The only place they had yet to see was the inside of the command buildings, where no mustelid was permitted to enter without explicit permission. Rhys had still not been permitted to enter and had received minimal communications with his crew inside. He had only managed to exchange a few brief words with Doctor Sparks, who had assured Rhys that while the resident captains were considering Edgar Scott to be captain of the Harvester, the navigator was far from happy with the arrangements.

This news did little to comfort Rhys. He was scared that Spaceways had already been taken from him by the prejudice of the three resident captains. He only told these fears to Steph though. To Twitch and the others he kept mostly silent, so much so that on more than one occasion both Leandro and Twitch had questioned his commitment. Whenever this happened Rhys just bowed his head and said nothing.

Deprived of his usual duties and training, and lacking the motivation to truly support the burgeoning mustelid rebellion, Rhys quickly found himself growing bored and restless. His long walks around the spaceport with Steph were pleasant, but they failed to occupy him like his official duties would have done.

That changed when he returned from one of his walks in the evening of the eighth day he had been stranded at Mount Cotton. He was alone; Steph and William had both returned back to the jail early when Rhys had wanted to remain behind and watch the sunset. Looking out over the spaceport he caught sight of a group of about two dozen mustelids. He vaguely recognised a few of them but couldn’t place any names to the faces. They were heading towards the large, open green near the northern wall of the spaceport, where there was a running track and a football field. The fields out there were never used by the human residents of the spaceport; they had exclusive access to the indoor gym, pool, and athletics facility within the spaceport proper.

Rhys abandoned his trajectory back to the jail almost without realising. There was something about the group of mustelids that had attracted his interest like nothing else at Mount Cotton. The source of his intrigue was the small sphere one of the mustelids carried; a football. When growing up, Rhys had lived and breathed football. It was hard not to, being born and raised just a stone’s throw from the home of Cardiff FC, probably the greatest team in the history of the sport. Like most boys growing up in his hometown, Rhys had once harboured ambitions of lining up in their famous dark blue strip before choosing a career in Spaceways instead. Even during his training he had still turned out for the Spaceways recruits football team, but had now been away from the game for nearly a decade.

Rhys’ approach was not unnoticed. A few of the mustelids turned as he came close. “Captain Rhys? What brings you here?” one of them asked.

“Any chance I can join you?” Rhys said nervously. He had done nothing to integrate himself with the mustelids of Mount Cotton, so he had no reason to expect them to want to associate themselves with him. To his surprise one of them threw the ball to him. He almost dropped it; the way his hands gripped the ball was different to how he remembered. With a rare smile on his face he joined the group of mustelids and soon embroiled himself into the heat of the game. Though he was badly out of practice he soon found his old skills returning and was able to match even the best of the other mustelids in terms of raw ability.

Rhys had not exerted himself so much in a long time. Within the hour his fur was clotted with sweat and mud; his chest heaved as he panted for breath. Of course, his physical exertions over the past few years now counted for nothing. Before he had even tramped back to the jail that night to clean up, he had already decided that Twitch would accompany him next time; it seemed he badly needed to get into shape.

Though his days remained as dull and empty, Rhys now started to enjoy his evenings. Every night he joined the mustelids in their football games. He was even successful in dragging Twitch out to the fields the following night. Though Twitch had little knowledge at all of football, his reactions were found to be brilliant, so he was stuck in goal all game. It didn’t do much for his fitness concerns, but Rhys wasn’t overly bothered by that. The love of doing something he enjoyed again was all he cared about.

For a full week Rhys continued playing football. Each night he believed he was able to last longer as his condition slowly improved. Twitch too started showing some improvement as he was trusted more out of the goals.

After their eighth night in the fields together, Twitch held Rhys back after the game was over and all the others had all gone back to the jail.

“When you’re out on that pitch, you’re happier than I’ve ever seen you. Happier even than when you’re working for Spaceways,” Twitch said.

Rhys couldn’t see Twitch’s face. Night as always had fallen very quickly, and all he could see of the other mustelid was his silhouette in the distant lights of the spaceport.

“I’ve always loved playing football,” Rhys said with a shrug. “If I hadn’t decided to go for Spaceways I’d probably have ended up playing football for a living instead.”

“You enjoy it more out there though,” Twitch said, gesturing back to the goalposts that were barely visible in the gloom.

Rhys knew what Twitch was trying to suggest, but it was out of the question. “I’m not about to ditch my career for a shot at football. I’m thirty-five, Twitch. Players are thinking about ending their careers by my age, not starting them,” he said, looking down at the ball he still held. He had to admit there was some regret in his heart he had chosen Spaceways over football, but he was always able to convince himself he had made the correct decision.

“Rhys, I don’t turn twenty for another few months,” Twitch said with a laugh.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Rhys asked, thoroughly confused. He hadn’t known Twitch had been quite so young, but he wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything they were talking about.

“You’re forgetting something very important here, Rhys. You are me, now. And if I’m only nineteen, then you’re also nineteen now. You’re only thirty-five in your head,” Twitch said, still laughing at Rhys’ confusion.

“I’m nineteen?” Rhys asked with his eyes wide open. He was hardly able to believe what he was hearing. He shook his head, barely daring to think of the consequences of this new revelation. He could choose a new life for himself, if he wanted. He had the time to do so now.

“Finally some real good to come out of the transformation?” Twitch said, knocking the ball from Rhys’ hands and running off with it. Rhys was quick to react, and Twitch had not gotten far before Rhys tackled him to the ground from behind, causing them both to roll in the mud that had been churned up by a late-afternoon storm.

“So what do you think? Change of career coming up?” Twitch asked as he stood again. His white teeth gleamed from his muddy face as he smiled widely.

“No team’s going to accept a mustelid into their ranks, whether I wanted to try for football again or not,” Rhys said as he wrestled the ball back from Twitch.

“All the more reason for you to help us gain equality then,” Twitch said pointedly. He extended his hand and helped Rhys up to his feet. “Help us make the humans treat us as equals. That starts here. Then you may see options open up to you again, even staying in Spaceways, if that’s what you really want.”

Rhys sighed. Twitch had a point. Whilst actively participating in a mustelid rebellion would no doubt endanger his position in Spaceways, standing back and doing nothing would almost certainly end his time as captain anyway. He really had no other option but to help Leandro in his cause. More than that, he had to make sure they were successful.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” he said.

“You always have a choice. If you’re happy living as a mustelid with the standing we have now, then you don’t have to do a thing to help us,” Twitch said. He paused and put his hand on Rhys’. “But if you want to remain a captain, if you want to forge a better life for all of us, then you need to help us. We need you to succeed.”

“I’m in,” Rhys said. This time he said it with intent. This time he meant it.

Twitch’s smile became even greater. “I knew we could find a way to get you in. We’ve all been a bit worried about you.”

“Worried? What for?” Rhys said indignantly, playfully pushing Twitch back to the ground, but he knew what Twitch was talking about. He had been taciturn and silent over the past couple of weeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he had talked to someone other than Twitch, Steph, or the other football players on the field. Of course they would be worried about him.

Twitch made no attempt to stand back up. Instead the mustelid was staring at a point somewhere over Rhys’ shoulder, his ears curled up in fear. He made a few incomprehensible whimpers, but otherwise seemed unable to speak.

Rhys slowly turned around to see what was bothering Twitch and found it immediately. By the doors to the command buildings was an all-too familiar figure clad in red robes and wide-brimmed hat. Cardinal Erik had a predatory look on his face; there was no doubting he had seen the two mustelids and recognised them instantly.

The cardinal started to move towards the mustelids, but stopped and looked back at the command centre. A faint voice called out from within.

With a courteous tip of his hat that was completely undone by his savage leer, Cardinal Erik disappeared into the command centre, leaving the two stunned mustelids alone again.

“He can’t be here. Why does he have to be here?” Rhys hissed, barely daring to believe the evidence of his own eyes. After hearing Leandro’s stories of the cardinal, Rhys dreaded the reasons for the Martian’s visit to Mount Cotton.

“We have to warn the others, make sure no one’s been taken,” Twitch said, clambering back to his feet with Rhys’ supporting arm for assistance.

Before Rhys could even say a word, Twitch was scampering back to the old jail.

Stopping only to check Cardinal Erik was no longer watching them, Rhys chased after Twitch, but couldn’t catch up to the other mustelid until the very doors of the jail. Steph was waiting for them there, and her jovial greeting fell silent once she saw the abject fear on Twitch’s and Rhys’ faces.

“What happened?” she asked, a touch of hysteria creeping into her voice, but Twitch didn’t even pause for her. Rhys took hold of her hand and pulled her inside the jail, shutting the door behind them. Steph held on tight as she repeated her question, calmer this time.

“Cardinal Erik is here,” Rhys whispered, holding Steph close to his body as she whimpered in fright. He slowly stroked the back of Steph’s head as she leant against his shoulder. Her heart thudded against his chest, and for just a moment Rhys was able to forget about the return of Cardinal Erik. They could not linger though, and in far too short a time, Rhys broke the embrace and led Steph through the jail and to the dining room.

Leandro’s realisation that he had a rejuvenated Rhys back on his side was largely countered by his horror to learn of Cardinal Erik’s presence. A wave of fear had spread through the mustelids at Twitch’s announcement, but Leandro alone of all of them had acquired a steely glare in his eye. He alone was not intimidated by the cardinal, and that gave Rhys heart too.

The cardinal’s presence would not change anything. Leandro and Rhys stressed this point to the cowering mustelids, and before long some form of confidence began to eke back into the jail. Twitch had been right. All they needed someone with authority for their plan to work. Even if Rhys were to just act as a figurehead for the rebellion it would vastly improve their chances of success. They weren’t after domination or control. All they wanted was equality. Rhys just had to hope that people like Admiral Garter or Chancellor Roberts would see it that way. If they even suspected that he was after personal gain in all of this they wouldn’t hesitate to throw him out of Spaceways. He couldn’t let that deter him though. Not anymore.

It was time to put the plan into action.

It would begin with a strike.

Every night all the mustelids had to sign back into the jail before they turned in for the night. That way Captain Rivers would know if any mustelids escaped or were breaking curfew. That was why Leandro had to wait for the coming of Rhys and his crew before he could hope to succeed. As they didn’t need to sign in every night they were not bound by the curfew that restricted the movements of the others.

Night had long fallen but none of the mustelids had gone to bed. Everyone was nervously waiting in the dining room. None spoke. Leandro was the only source of movement as he paced back and forth, occasionally glancing out the windows. The entire plan revolved around this night.

Rhys was sick with worry. By his side were Steph and Richard, while David and Twitch sat on the floor at his feet. William was noticeably absent, and he was the cause for everyone’s concern. He had volunteered for the dangerous act of breaking into the Spaceport and stealing Captain Rivers’ key for the jail. He personally locked the place every night, and Leandro was certain that there was just the one key. It was imperative that the mustelids have possession of it.

The lone clock on the wall slowly ticked towards midnight and still there was no indication that William had succeeded or failed. The spaceport was as silent as any other night.

Steph’s hand found Rhys’. “He’ll be alright, won’t he?” she whispered, breaking the silence that had lasted for over an hour. A little of the tension seemed to break, and here and there a few other mustelids started whispering to each other.

“He’d bloody well better be alright,” Richard growled quietly.

Rhys couldn’t answer. The last few days felt like he had been reborn again. He had revelled in active duty once more and had frequently been the one to track the movements of Captain Rivers. The only reason he wasn’t out there now was because Leandro had opposed the fact that he would be placing himself in too much danger. William had been very vocal in replacing Rhys out there and it hadn’t taken Leandro long to choose him.

Finally, just after midnight the front door of the jail opened and then closed. Rhys and Leandro led the rush out to see who had returned, but they were far from the only ones. Every other mustelid followed them.

William stood there, beaming widely with his ears perked as high as they could. Gripped in his hand was a set of keys. Rhys had a sudden image in his mind of how he had first seen William; bedraggled and pathetic, worn down from years of abuse by Briggs. The grinning and triumphant William was barely recognisable as the same mustelid.

Leandro took the keys from William and handled them as though they were a most precious artefact. The grey-furred mustelid patted William on the shoulder before turning to Rhys.

“Captain Rhys, it’s your turn now. We can lock ourselves in but we still need to defend ourselves,” he said.

Rhys took a deep breath as he glanced back at Twitch and Richard, who were about to foray out into the spaceport with him. For all his bravado about wanting to be the one stealing the keys from Captain Rivers, he was suddenly very nervous again. If this went wrong...

“I still don’t think we’ll need to defend ourselves,” Rhys said, though not with the intention of appearing cowardly. “Even mustelids are protected by the London Convention. They cannot attack us so long as we remain peaceful.”

Leandro shook his head. “I’ve known these humans longer than you have, Captain Rhys. While you would have been unwilling to break the London Convention, Captain Rivers will not be like-minded. He will attack.”

Rhys knew he had no choice. Though the London Convention directly prohibited an armed assault on a peaceful protest or strike situation, deep down he knew that mustelids weren’t really considered when the convention had been drafted a century and a half ago. No human had really believed they would be intelligent enough to be involved in such a situation anyway. The mustelid strike they were planning certainly was unprecedented. Leandro was right. Captain Rivers wouldn’t even believe he was breaking the London Convention by authorising an attack on the jail.

That was why it was imperative that Rhys get into the Harvester undetected and raid his own armoury. The mustelids had to be armed should they need to defend themselves.

“Alright then. Twitch, Richard, with me,” Rhys said, breathing in deeply as he took the jail keys from Leandro. He flashed a nervous smile across at Steph, who had separated herself from the group to sit alone in the shadows. Though she remained silent, Rhys knew she did not like being left behind. It had taken several hours to persuade her to remain in the jail.

Leandro took hold of Rhys’ hand. “Good luck Captain Rhys,” he said.

“Back before you know it,” Rhys said with the same nervous smile.

Rhys rolled his shoulders. There was no use delaying it any further, so without another word, he set off down the dingy corridors, Twitch and Richard just behind.

They took care in opening the outer door; its hinges were rusted and were prone to screeching when it moved. Mercifully it remained quiet as they shut and locked it behind them.

Though the air was quite cool, Rhys was already sweating. The consequences for getting caught out here didn’t bear thinking about. Trying to put that thought out of his mind, he gestured to his two companions to follow him.

All that lay between them and the Harvester was a simple wire fence. Internal security was fairly minimal. No one was expected to get past the outer walls, and with good reason too. They were completely impregnable. That any of the docked ships would be raided internally was something that had never before been considered. It all worked to Rhys’ advantage, for with the help of a set of wire-clippers one of the local mustelids had been able to ‘lose’, they were through the fence with no issues whatsoever. Behind them the spaceport was almost completely dark, with only a skeleton crew present in the control tower, and none of them had reason to look down into the grounds.

Rhys had no trouble identifying his ship even in the dark. It was by far the largest of the three docked ships, and possessed far more elegance than the other two; if the blocky structures could be said to possess elegance in the first place.

As the three mustelids darted into the deep shadows beneath the Harvester, Rhys chanced a confident grin. Now he was out here he was losing a lot of his prior pessimism. There wasn’t really any chance of being caught, not yet at least. No guards patrolled the grounds, and they were out of sight of the only people left awake in the spaceport.

“Alright, come on,” Rhys whispered to Twitch and Richard.

He led them up the detachable stairway that wound up the side of the ship, right up to the bridge entry near the very top. From this high up Rhys could see the moonlight glinting off the not-too-distant ocean. To the north, light pollution from the city of Brisbane painted the sky dull ochre.

Allowing themselves just a moment of hesitation, Rhys unlocked the Harvester, and the entry to the bridge slid open. It was pitch black inside, but after a few seconds of fumbling in the darkness, Rhys was able to activate the emergency lighting. Given the ship’s lack of external windows, he remained confident that even if someone were to look directly at the ship from the spaceport, they wouldn’t notice that anything was amiss.

“Easy as you like,” Twitch said quietly. He was bouncing on his heels, waiting for Rhys’ go ahead to continue.

Rhys hesitated though. He was momentarily struck by how absurd this entire situation was. He was about to steal from his own ship in an attempt to essentially commit treason. He was about to open up a hostile situation against a TIE spaceport. It wasn’t all that long ago such an action would have been truly inconceivable to Rhys’ mind, and yet, here he stood. Whereas he would once have been horrified, he chuckled to himself. He was well beyond the point of no return.

“On we go,” Rhys said.

Twitch didn’t wait another moment before he was away, scampering through the dark corridors to the armoury, a few levels below. Richard and Rhys followed close behind; Twitch’s excitement and eagerness was proving to be quite infectious.

Once in the armoury, it was easy to decide what to take; everything. Though the contents of the armoury, enough to equip the full operations and systems crews, was far beyond the capacity of three mustelids to carry, they weren’t without help. Just a few metres away a GAB unit was tucked away. Looking not too dissimilar from a large, metallic box on six wheels, the GABs were mostly used as mobile storage devices, though they could also be fitted with a variety of implements to aid the smooth running of a large spaceship. They were technically capable of a wide variety of tasks, from clearing rubbish, to undertaking minor repair work on the ship and other maintenance bots. This was one of the new models Admiral Garter had provided the Harvester, and its storage capacity was more than enough to carry the full contents of the armoury.

It took them just over half an hour to clear out the armoury. GAB trundling behind them on its heavy-duty tracks, the mustelids walked back through the corridors of the ship, each holding a plasma pistol, and an ionic rifle slung over their back. Twitch and Richard discussed how they were going to win the upcoming battle without any trouble, until Rhys told them both to shut up. He knew that after tonight, there was no certainty of success. If Captain Rivers chose to attack the jail, the mustelid defence would crumble. Though he did not doubt their determination to succeed, too few of the mustelids had been tested in any sort of confrontation, and the natural submissiveness of the mustelids would be working against them all the time.

The only moment to give Rhys cause for worry on their return back to the jail was loading the GAB onto the scaffold elevator. The platform creaked loudly as the GAB was put into place, and for just an instant, Rhys was scared it was going to collapse. Then it settled, and a green light flashed twice, indicating that the elevator was functional. Even so it whined alarmingly on its descent, though they were too far away from the spaceport for the noise to be heard.

Excepting that, there was not a hitch to be had in returning the GAB and its cargo back to the jail. It was just a minute’s work to expand the hole in the fence they had already made, and from there it was only another five minutes before Rhys had put the key into the jail’s outer door.

Then he heard the noise.

His old training taking over, Rhys had his ionic rifle aimed at a patch of shadows, not far from one of the entries to the spaceport central command. He took a couple of cautious steps forward, in doing so keeping the much less experienced Twitch and Richard behind him. Though they also had their weapons ready, they were less sure of their aiming. Richard was looking at least twelve feet too far to his right, and Twitch was still bobbing his head to and fro, trying to find the source of the noise.

“Get the GAB inside,” Rhys whispered to Twitch, knowing that his first officer would only be a hindrance should the noise turn out to be hostile.

Twitch nodded eagerly, and with Richard he set to work on silently getting the jail doors open.

Rhys took another few steps forward, trying to find a form in the darkness he could focus on. Nothing moved, and for a full minute Rhys stayed motionless too, rifle at the ready. Then Twitch hissed out as loud as he dared.

“Captain Rhys, we’re in, come on.”

Then another voice spoke, deeper – human.

“Captain Rhys? Captain Griffiths, that’s you?”

Finally something moved in the shadows, and out from the darkness came the unmistakeable form of Doctor Sparks.

Rhys cautiously lowered his rifle as he quickly checked the shadows again, making sure the doctor was alone. No further movement greeted his eyes, and once again Rhys felt safe. He knew he could trust Doctor Sparks.

The doctor didn’t seem to be able to trust Rhys though. “What the hell are you doing out here? Is that one of our GABS? And... And why the hell are you armed?” he demanded, though Rhys was thankful the doctor kept his voice down low. He didn’t want to get this far only to be caught because someone he considered his friend accidentally raised the alarm.

Rhys found it difficult to answer. It was easy enough for him to talk about mustelid equality with other mustelids, but now that he was faced with a human, even one he knew very well, he found himself lost for words. Thankfully he was not alone.

“We’re doing something that should have been done an awful long time ago, Doctor Sparks. Now, if you’ve got any respect for us, you’ll do well to keep your nose out of this and stay quiet,” Richard said, coming forward to stand by Rhys’ side.

Doctor Sparks looked like he had been punched. “You’re... you’re going to fight?” he blustered.

Rhys hissed quietly. “I hope it doesn’t come to that, but we need to be ready. None of us trust Captain Rivers to allow this to remain peaceful.”

This time the doctor chuckled nervously and shook his head. “I can’t believe this. Captain Griffiths, champion for mustelid rights. You’d have told me that two months ago and I’d have thought you clinically insane,” he said, rubbing his hand down his temple and onto his cheek. “Tell you what, I have no idea what you’re actually up to, but it seems brave, reckless, and utterly unexpected, and for that it might just work. Because you’d better pray Captain Griffiths that it does, ‘cause not even Admiral Garter can save you if this fails.”

“I know the risks, but as Twitch pointed out to me, I would lose everything even if I stood by and did nothing. I have to try, for that’s the only way I can stay on as captain,” Rhys replied. He looked across at Richard and smiled. “Plus I owe it to them. They’ve been kind to me when I did not deserve it. It’s time I did something for them.”

Again Doctor Sparks shook his head. “You’re mad, all of you. But best of luck anyway. You’ll need it,” he said. He held out his hand, which Rhys took.

When they separated, the doctor assured them he wouldn’t breathe a word of their meeting to anyone.

Rhys grinned. He had expected no different. “See you on the other side,” he said with a mock salute to the doctor. Then they parted, Sparks back to the spaceport, and Rhys to the waiting adoration of the mustelids.

No one had slept. All the mustelids were far too nervous for that.

They had been busy throughout the night. First they had passed out the weapons Rhys, Twitch, and Richard had taken from the Harvester. Every mustelid was given a weapon, even though barely any of them had ever handled one before. Then they set about securing the main door. With the help of the stolen GAB, two of the long dining tables had been lashed to the double doors, adding a significant amount of strength to the aging doors. It was still far from sturdy, but Rhys hoped that it would hold long enough.

Dawn was breaking when they finally stopped work.  While most mustelids took the opportunity to take a few minutes rest, Leandro and Rhys returned to the makeshift armoury they had made of one of the old cells.

“Well Captain Rhys, it looks like this is it,” Leandro said as he picked up an ionic rifle. He took a few practise aims at a crack in the wall and laughed. “It has been a very long time.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve held a rifle,” Rhys said, surprised at the proficiency of Leandro’s grip and aim with the weapon.

Again Leandro laughed. “Captain Rhys, I could teach humans a thing or two about shooting, would they let me.”

“How did you learn?”

“A story for another time, my boy. It is a wonderful tale. One I have told many times before. It is one of their favourites,” Leandro said, turning to look outside the armoury. A few mustelids scurried past. They all wore the same expression of terrified determination.

A tear came to Leandro’s eye as the grey-furred mustelid looked back at Rhys. “They see me as a hero,” he said. “I have done things they never dared dream, but here they are, ready to fight for themselves, and in doing so, have proven themselves greater than me. Because for all the things I have done, I never once fought for myself. And it is all because of you, Captain Rhys. Your actions, your mere presence, made them realise that they are stronger than they ever thought.

“I am proud of them, Captain Rhys. And I am honoured by you. You are the greatest of us. You and Twitch both.”

“I... I don’t know what to say, thank you,” Rhys said, feeling tears coming to his eyes too. If any lingering doubts remained that he was doing the right thing, they were now gone. This is what he wanted, regardless of the consequences. No matter what was to happen, he was happy knowing he tried to right a great wrong.

“Together, Captain Rhys. Together we can do this for the freedom of every mustelid here,” Leandro said, clasping hands with Rhys.

“For the freedom of every mustelid in TIE,” Rhys added.

Leandro smiled. “No matter what happens today, Captain Rhys, I am glad that fortune brought you straight to me. You have changed us all.”

While Rhys was glad of Leandro’s words, he knew that they weren’t really true. He hadn’t changed the mustelids at all. The dreams and desires and determination to succeed had been there all along, Rhys had just helped them realise it. If anyone had been changed, it was him. After little more than two weeks in the sole company of mustelids he found himself so integrated into their society that he could barely remember his old, human self.

He knew there would come a time, hopefully soon, when he would need to rediscover that side of himself. He couldn’t hope to succeed in Spaceways acting like a typical mustelid. Somehow he would have to find a balance between his mustelid self and his human one. For if he couldn’t, he would rapidly lose the respect of those around him, and with that the authority to change things for the mustelids.

There was little time left for musings though, as the sun had already risen. It wouldn’t be long now before Captain Rivers discovered the theft of the jail keys.

With a resounding crash, the morning tranquillity was shattered like the breaking of a storm. Captain Rivers was at the door.

“Get out of there you filthy rats!” The captain’s voice boomed through the jail. A collective shiver ran through the mustelids. Now that the time had come, Rhys could tell that many of them doubted themselves. Fear had gripped the jail; only Leandro and Rhys’ mustelid crew seemed to fully resist the urge to flee.

The hammering on the door continued as Rhys and Leandro returned to the jail’s dining area. The mustelids gathered around them, seeking words of comfort. Most of them had never been in any sort of conflict before; it was understandable that they were terrified.

Rhys was shocked to notice that most of the mustelids did not turn to Leandro; they turned to him. It was to him that they looked for the reassurance they so desperately needed. Even the grey-furred elder had bowed his head in a show of respect and submission.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” Rhys said quietly, feeling nervous at being put on the spot like this. His voice began to grow in volume as he continued. “We are making a stand the likes of which TIE has never seen. No matter what happens out there today, know that we will be remembered as the first mustelids to ever stand up and fight for their freedom. That is why we are here. We will not back down. We will not flee. We will stand and show those humans that we are not to be pushed aside any longer!”

A ragged cheer from the back of the group soon turned into a deafening battle cry, the likes of which no mustelid had uttered before. Rhys could not help but smile as he saw confidence in the eyes of every mustelid present. For the first time he truly began to feel that they might be able to pull of this remarkable coup.

Rhys put his hand on Leandro’s arm. “Come on, we shall address Captain Rivers together,” he said.

Backed by over sixty passionate mustelids, Rhys and Leandro marched through the jail back to the front door, which was still taking significant punishment from Captain Rivers. There was an old guardroom to the side of the great doors, and in this small room was a fortified window which looked out to the grounds beyond.

There were some two dozen humans outside, some of which Rhys could tell were armed. Amongst them he recognised Captains Sykes and Uwele, surrounded by men Rhys assumed were part of their respective crews. Edgar Scott was also out there, flanked by Aleksandr Chekhov and Jordan Dewson. Cardinal Erik was just visible near the back of the throng.

“Captain Rivers!” Rhys called out, trying to make himself heard over the hammering on the door.

Silence fell.

“Captain Rivers, I am Captain Rhys Griffiths and I am here to facilitate a negotiation between the mustelids of the Mount Cotton spaceport, and yourself as captain of this port. We wish these talks to remain peaceful, but know that we are armed and are capable of defending ourselves if we must,” Rhys said, projecting his voice enough so the watching humans would be able hear him. He wasn’t limiting this discussing between Leandro and Captain Rivers.

There was another period of silence before Captain Rivers barked out, “You’re doing what?” The captain came into view a few metres from the window. His face was scarlet in his rage, and he had an ionic rifle slung over his shoulder.

Leandro rested his hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “It’s my turn now. This is the moment I have waited my entire life for,” the grey-furred mustelid said. He approached the window and raised his voice so all the humans could hear him. “Captain Rivers, I am Leandro, and I am speaking on behalf of the mustelids of Mount Cotton. We have grown tired of being treated like slaves, and we demand equality. We demand fair work. We demand fair treatment. And most of all, we demand fair pay! It is time to change the way you think of us.”

A cheer erupted from the mustelids crowding near the entry of the guardroom.

“Did you just... What?” Rivers blustered, looking back at the other humans in utter confusion. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“You’re hearing the start of a new chapter, Captain Rivers,” Leandro said.

“A new chapter? Fuck! You’re mustelids for Christ’s sake. What sort of sick joke is this?” Captain Rivers spluttered, once more turning to his companions as if in hope that one of them would step forth and admit that this was all an elaborate practical joke.

Rhys quivered in anger at the insinuation that this could only be the result of a human practical joke, and he could feel Leandro shaking beside him. The grey-furred mustelid’s ears had curled in on themselves.

“Captain Rivers, we demand to be heard,” Leandro said, keeping his obvious rage in check.

Rivers laughed. “I am not answering to a pack of animals.”

“Then we shall remain inside until you are willing to listen. No mustelid shall work until you see reason. This we promise,” Leandro said, drawing another cheer from the crowd of mustelids behind.

Sykes took a couple of steps forward, up to Rivers’ shoulder. “If I may...” Sykes began, before he was interrupted by Rivers.

“No, you may not. Christ!” he swore, before addressing the jail again. “Fine! Have it your way, rodents. Stay cooped up in your little pen and we’ll see who breaks first. Let me assure you I will make your life a living Hell once I drag each and every one of you out of there.”

At that Rivers turned on his heel and stormed off. With furious authority, he dismissed the ashen-faced humans who had been standing watch. Captain Uwele lingered a little longer, in discussion with Scott, Chekov, and Dewson, but within a couple of minutes the grounds were empty and any immediate threat Rivers posed on the jail was gone.

Rhys sagged with relief at their first, small victory, while the mustelids behind were rejoicing as though they had already won their freedom. While ultimate victory was still far from achieved, Rhys let them enjoy their moment, for they had had precious little to celebrate since the first mustelid had been created, so many years ago.

Captain Rivers remained anonymous for the remainder of the day. Rhys could only imagine the sense of chaos going on within the spaceport; mustelids were an integral part of how the facility was run. He imagined the captain was now only just beginning to realise that.

Unlike the other mustelids, Rhys had kept his celebrations largely subdued. He knew there was still so far to go, and that didn’t even take into consideration their larger ambitions for changing the quality of life for all mustelids in TIE. Just changing the mindset of a man like Captain Rivers was going to be a monumental task, and on that Rhys didn’t know they would be able to achieve just with a simple strike. It was an eventuality he wasn’t keen on, but it could take the intervention of someone like Admiral Garter to sway the situation one way or the other. The longer the strike continued, the more likely the higher echelons of Spaceways and TIE would get involved. History suggested they would side with Captain Rivers.

Once evening fell and the spaceport ceased its daily activity, several brave mustelids raided the port for supplies, such as food and water. Steph, frustrated at being constantly left out, had pestered Rhys until he had permitted her to join the raiding group. Rhys chose not to join them and was instead sitting with Twitch and Leandro in the communal dining area as they worked out the next stage of their plan. A gathering of mustelids clustered close, ears perked up and a gleam of awe in their eyes.

“Already we have done more than any mustelid in TIE,” Leandro was saying.

“But it’s still not enough,” Rhys countered, knowing that Captain Rivers wasn’t about to cave in to their demands.

“What more can we do, Captain Rhys? It can’t be long before they start to miss our presence in the port. They need our work, they have no choice but to listen to us,” Leandro said.

Rhys put his head in his hands, knowing it could not be that simple. He wished it could be, but somehow he knew there would have to be a fight sooner rather than later.

“All we can do is remain alert. We can’t let Captain Rivers surprise us with anything, or else he will destroy us. He won’t come again tonight, he’ll wait until the morning,” Rhys said, fiddling with his tail as he tried to work out what Captain Rivers was likely to do. It was harder than he cared admit.

The front door creaked open, and the sound of scampering mustelid paws quickly grew louder. Rhys started to rise, anticipating Steph’s and the raiding party’s return. However, only one of the four mustelids burst into the dining area. His fur was damp with sweat and his clothes caked in mud.

Leandro’s chair clattered unheeded onto the stone floor as the grey-furred mustelid leapt to his feet.

“What happened?” Leandro asked.

“Where are the others? Where’s Steph?” Rhys demanded, as the newcomer sunk to his knees in front of Leandro, whimpering as heaved, trying to regain his breath.

“Speak to us Daniel. What happened to the others?” Leandro asked again, placing a hand upon Daniel’s head.

Daniel took a deep, ragged breath and swallowed with a little difficulty. “Cardinal Erik,” he gasped, then emitted a timid squeak of fear that echoed around the room.

Leandro growled from the back of his throat as he stalked away to the windows. He placed his hands on the window ledge as he looked out over the darkened grounds. “Tell the story, Daniel,” he said, not looking back.

“We... we had broken into the canteen without any problems. We had everything we needed and were on our way back. Steph... she... she was nervous, kept thinking someone was following us. I told her... oh God, I told her not to worry, that it was inconceivable that anyone could be following us. She kept looking back though. She was so sure.

“Then... as we waited for Emily to unlock the door... that’s when he caught up with us. He took Steph first... flung her against a wall... knocked her out. I got out with Emily and Phil, but Phil and I tripped. Erik was right behind us... Phil didn’t have a chance, but I got away. We ran and didn’t look back. I... I’m sorry, I couldn’t do anything. I’m not brave like you...”

“He took Steph?” Rhys whispered, utterly aghast.

Daniel nodded, as behind him, Emily crept back into the dining room. Her fur and clothes were as dirty as Daniel’s; her eyes wide and ears pressed against her head. The bundle of keys hung loosely from her limp hand.

Leandro returned from the window and placed his hands on Daniel’s shoulders. “Do not say you are not brave, Daniel Williams. It is not a thing of shame that you fear a human as vile and despicable as Cardinal Erik,” the grey-furred mustelid said.

“But I just left them,” Daniel said, trying to pull away from Leandro’s grasp, but the Iberian mustelid was strong.

“There was nothing you could have done. There is nothing any single mustelid can do to a human like Cardinal Erik,” Leandro said.

“No, you’re wrong,” Rhys said. He took the keys from Emily and stood by the way out to the corridors. “There is everything a mustelid can do to Cardinal Erik, and I am about to show you all. Is anyone with me?”

“Captain Rhys, what are you doing?” Leandro asked in alarm. He released Daniel and started to move towards Rhys, but the look in the captain’s eye halted him.

“I’m showing you that a mustelid can stand up to a human,” Rhys said, thumping his hand against the frame of the door. “Just because we’re afraid doesn’t mean that we have to back down and run away. I’m going after Steph. I will not abandon her to Cardinal Erik. Is anyone with me?”

Rhys looked around the room, but all he saw was terrified faces and flattened ears. He turned to Twitch, but even he shook his head and cowered back. “I can’t... I can’t do this,” he whimpered, disappearing into the crowd of mustelids.

Rhys turned to leave, but from the corner of his eye he saw someone step forward.

“I can do this with you, Captain Rhys,” Richard said, fending away the attentions of William, who was trying to pull him back.

“Very well, come on,” Rhys said, thankful for Richard’s assistance. He had hoped that some of the others would take heart after seeing Richard volunteer, but no one else came forward.

“Captain Rhys, please would you reconsider?” Leandro said. His hands clasped his tail.

Rhys shook his head. “I can’t leave Steph and Phil to Cardinal Erik. I will not let them suffer by the hands of the Vatican, not when I can help them. I promise you this; by dawn I will have them both safely back here.”

“Then may fortune favour you, Captain Rhys,” Leandro said. Tears formed in the eyes of the grey-furred mustelid as Rhys and Richard turned away. A few of the mustelids were less restrained than Leandro and openly wept, though none made any attempt to stop them.

Rhys paused from locking the jail door behind them. “Last chance to turn back Richard,” he said. He looked down at the rust-flaked lock, not daring to glance back lest he see fear on his companion’s face.

Richard’s hand closed around Rhys’ and they firmly turned the key in the lock. “I am brave, Captain Rhys,” Richard said over Rhys’ shoulder.

Rhys nodded and broke away from the contact. He looked around the moonlit grounds. Though he had no idea where to begin looking for Cardinal Erik, Rhys knew that the cardinal could not have gotten far. He decided to start his search at the spaceport entrance where Steph and Phil had been taken.

The grass was sodden from a storm earlier in the night, and Rhys’ bare paws slipped on the greasy surface as he scampered across the open grounds.

It was easy to find the signs of the struggle between the mustelids and Cardinal Erik. The wet mud was churned up, with some splattered against the walls and still-ajar door.

Pausing for a moment to regain his breath and allow Richard to catch up, Rhys glanced into the darkened corridor. There didn’t seem to be anyone around; no sound of movement attracted his attention but for the gentle hum of the air-conditioning.

Rhys slowly pushed open the door and slipped inside, Richard right on his tail. With a gentle snick, the door closed behind them. For a moment total darkness took them, but as soon as Rhys moved again the after-hours lights engaged, brightening the corridor with a soft, cream luminescence.

“Which way do you think he took them?” Richard asked in a small voice. His ears were flattened against his head, but his eyes showed a grim determination Rhys had rarely seen in a mustelid’s eyes.

Rhys pointed to a trail of muddy footprints made with a heavy boot. They went most of the way up the corridor, as far as Rhys could see, before making a left turn. About half way down something glinted on the floor. Richard quietly darted forward and picked it up; a small chain with a silver pendant hanging from the bottom.

“Doesn’t Phil wear something like this?” Richard asked.

Rhys had to admit he wasn’t sure, having not been overly familiar with Phil before, but he was willing to take Richard’s word for it. There was no obvious damage on the pendant, chain, or clasp, leading Rhys to assume it had been dropped intentionally. Whether left by Phil as a sign to any pursuers, or discarded by Cardinal Erik, was less obvious. Either way, Rhys knew that this was the start of the trail that would lead them to Steph and Phil.

As they scurried down the corridor, the automated lighting kept just a few metres around them lit up. All else descended into shadows.

It had been many years since Rhys’ last visit to Mount Cotton, and his recollection of the place was poor. In every Terran spaceport there was a section set aside for emissaries of the Vatican, and a small chapel for worship. Rhys knew this would be where they would find Cardinal Erik, he just didn’t know where the chapel was. He had seen no sign of it during his time out in the grounds, so he assumed it was something in the centre of the port.

If his memory was correct, Rhys believed there to be a large courtyard in the very centre of the spaceport. The Vatican usually insisted on natural light to illuminate their chapels. If the chapel wasn’t on the outer walls of the port, then Rhys knew that the courtyard was the next place to look.

A few noises filtered down through the ceiling from the floors above. Occasional whirs, beeps, and crashes gave evidence to the lingering activity going on in the port. Very little seemed to emanate from nearby, but Rhys still proceeded with caution. He doubted anyone here would look favourably on two unauthorised mustelid intruders.

Every junction of corridors was guesswork. There was no helpful signage to guide their way. Though information panels were located at regular intervals, Rhys had already been warned that they only responded to the touch of humans, and not that of mustelids. It gave new mustelids to the port a torrid time trying to navigate the labyrinthine passages. Leandro had told them several stories of mustelids who had gotten totally lost.

“Captain Rhys, look over there,” Richard whispered with a tug on Rhys’ wrist.

Rhys had been about to turn left at a junction, but Richard was pointing to the right. A crucifix was hanging on the wall above a small font. It was some sixty metres away. Richard must have had some sharp eyes just to spot it.

“I think we’re getting close,” Richard said. He trembled a little, but composed himself to take the first step ahead of Rhys. The mustelid’s tail thrashed from side to side in a jerky motion as he walked.

At the crucifix was another junction. To the right the corridor was shrouded in darkness and was soon lost to shadows. To the left however, moonlight shone in from a series of windows just twenty metres away. Rhys knew they couldn’t possibly be at the outer wall. They had found the inner courtyard.

Fronted on each side by the tall, white walls of the port, the courtyard was an open area about a hundred metres square, accessible only from four doors, one on each wall. Reminiscent of an old-fashioned park, the courtyard was mostly an open grassy area with a few trees and a covered pavilion in the middle that was primarily used by Spaceways personnel for meals during the summer months. A few trees also dotted the edges of the courtyard, in some places brushing up against the walls.

Rhys pushed open a clear glass door and shuddered as the sticky hot air rushed in. Sheltered in the middle of the port, there was no breeze to speak of, and even late at night the temperature outside was uncomfortably warm.

Away to his right there was a row of stained glass windows depicting a young woman in blue standing next to an elderly man in red and white robes. Rhys knew these people as Mother Rebecca and Pope Callum II; the two credited with creating the Interplanetary Papacy. More immediately, it told Rhys exactly where the chapel was. A light was flickering inside, and a silhouette was cast against the patterned windows.

Rhys bared his teeth at the silhouette. He recognised the wide-brimmed hat of a cardinal.

Richard also bristled as he grabbed hold of Rhys’ wrist once more.

“Come on,” Richard said as he tried to dart past, but Rhys dragged him back.

“Wait a moment, we can’t just barge in there and expect to accomplish anything but get yourself captured or killed,” Rhys said as he pulled the overeager mustelid away from the chapel.

“You said we could stand up to Cardinal Erik. Why won’t you let me?” Richard whined. He tried to edge past Rhys’ outstretched arm, but the captain was alert to his companion’s movements.

“That doesn’t mean we can just barge in without a plan. He’s still a very dangerous man. We can’t just go in there and expect to be able to free Steph and Phil just like that. We’ll only end up getting ourselves caught,” Rhys said, biting his lip and clutching at the tip of his tail.

“Then what do we do?” Richard sulked.

An air-conditioning vent whirred, and the lights gently hummed, but otherwise silence had fallen.

“Perhaps I can help, Captain?” a sudden voice said. Rhys leapt back in shock, and Richard emitted a tiny yelp of terror, before they both recognised the voice of Edgar Scott.

The navigator of the Harvester had been lurking in the shadows of the courtyard, out of sight of the two mustelids. He came into the light now. Under his furrowed brow his eyes were bloodshot and ringed by dark shadows.

“Mr Scott, what are you doing here?” Richard squeaked as he clutched his tail.

“I heard a scream. I came down to investigate and saw Cardinal Erik disappear into the chapel with a mustelid in his arms, and another slung over his shoulder. It didn’t take much to assume he was up to something sinister,” the navigator explained. Like the two mustelids, his gaze was fixed on the stained-glass window where Cardinal Erik’s silhouette was still visible.

“After your little demonstration this morning, Captain, I had a feeling someone would lash out at the mustelids. I’m hardly surprised it was Cardinal Erik. Who has he taken?” Scott continued. The navigator glanced down at the two mustelids.

“He has Steph and a local mustelid called Phil,” Rhys said, finding his voice cracking slightly. He felt a gentle touch on his paw as Richard made a slight move to offer comfort to the captain.

“Cardinal Erik will not give up the mustelids because we ask him to do so. Saying that, I’m loathe to openly fight him for them. He would no doubt report our actions to the Vatican, and we do not want to become their enemy,” Scott mused, more to himself than to the two mustelids. The navigator leant against the wall and tapped his fingers on the window ledge.

Richard stood next to the navigator and looked out into the darkened courtyard. “If we can somehow distract him, get him out of the chapel, then perhaps we can free Steph and Phil behind his back,” the mustelid said. The tip of his pink tongue poked out between his clenched jaw, but he seemed unable to continue his train of thought.

Rhys believed that was their best option, but he too was unable to think of any way to get Cardinal Erik far enough away from the chapel to allow themselves entry, let alone have enough time to escape with two possibly injured mustelids. The longer they waited though, the graver the situation became. They simply couldn’t afford to dally around in the port for long; only Scott was permitted to be here, and even his motives for being near the chapel could be questioned.

“Where does that door lead?” Richard asked, pointing out across the courtyard.

It didn’t take Rhys long to find what he had previously failed to notice. About a dozen feet to the left of the stained glass windows was a small door, half-hidden behind a bushy sapling. If he was correct in his understanding, that door would lead to the back rooms of the chapel, used primarily by the clergy. As Cardinal Erik was in the main chamber of the chapel – they could still see his silhouette in the windows – then the door would provide them with a way in and remain undetected. Rhys shared this insight with his companions. A flash of momentary fear passed across Richard’s face at the prospect of having to enter the chapel, but he soon hid it again.

“I’ll worry about getting the cardinal out the main door. You two go around the back and free Steph and Phil,” Scott said. The navigator placed his hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “I have an idea that might get him away, but I don’t know how long for. You’ll have to be quick. I dread to think what he might do to you if he finds you in there. He seems to have developed a particular hatred for you, Captain Griffiths. He’s been asking all of us for information on you, trying to find some weakness he can exploit. No one had told him anything.”

“And yet he found it anyway,” Rhys growled. He was proud that his crew had all stood up to the cardinal and refused to betray their captain, but he was sickened that Cardinal Erik could have taken Steph simply to get at him. He knew he would never forgive himself if anything happened to Steph because of him. He never wanted to go through that ordeal again.

“We’ll get them back, Captain Rhys,” Richard said, clenching his jaw into a nervous grimace.

Rhys shook his head to clear his mind of the unwanted memories that threatened to overcome him. He knew he needed to remain focussed on the present or else he would lose Steph.

“Come on then, let’s do this,” he said. He didn’t look up at Edgar Scott at all. He didn’t want the navigator to see the abject terror in his eyes, and he thanked no one in particular that the human wouldn’t be able to read the emotion in his ears and tail.

“Best of luck Captain Griffiths,” Edgard Scott said as the two mustelids left him.

Rhys was drenched in sweat as he and Richard darted across the courtyard, sticking to the few shadows provided by the trees. Even so he felt terribly exposed. There were plenty of windows for someone to casually glance out of. The shadows wouldn’t hide them well enough.

There was a little more cover by the door, with the two rows of bushes providing a little more darkness to protect them from prying eyes. Rhys was comfortable enough to pause for a few seconds in an attempt to control his wild breathing and frantic heart, and by his side, Richard did much the same, his hand resting on Rhys’ shoulder. For a moment the two locked eyes and, through all the terror and fear that both felt, they could also see the fierce determination that was so alien to a mustelid.

Sucking in his breath and forcing his lungs to hold the air for a few seconds, Rhys reached out for the control panel and slid open the door. It was pitch dark inside the small antechamber, though the moonlight flooding in glinted off occasional surfaces and created a few shadows in the gloom.

“Quietly now,” Rhys whispered, before plunging into the darkness before his courage failed him.

Richard closed the door behind them, cutting off the only supply of light the small room had.

Though his eyes strained to see, the darkness was impenetrable to Rhys’ eyes. He only just managed to suppress a squeak of fear by biting down on his tongue, as well as clenching his fists so tight he knew his needle-clawed fingers had punctured his skin of his palms. He shuffled forwards a few steps, and every click of his claws on the bare concrete floor felt amplified to a deafening echo. He could hear Richard’s rattling breathing with perfect clarity, as well as that of another.

There was someone else in the room with them.

“Who... who’s there?” a voice squeaked out of the darkness. It was a voice laced with fear and pain, and was undoubtedly that of a mustelid.

A sharp intake of breath from beyond his shoulder was the only warning Rhys got before Richard barged past him and scurried off into the darkness. For one fearful moment Rhys thought he was going to fall, but he staggered sideways into what felt like a table, which scraped along the floor slightly, a noise that to Rhys sounded like the launch of a spaceship. He dared not move further, his ears straining for any sign of movement in the next room, but none seemed to be coming. Instead he focussed his attention back to Richard, who he could still just about hear murmuring gently to their hidden companion.

With extreme caution so as not to bump into anything else, Rhys edged forward with tiny, shuffling steps.

“Captain Rhys, it’s Phil, and he’s got a – ah,” Richard whispered, before a piercing beam of bright light shone directly into Rhys’ eyes. He threw an arm in front of his face, almost blinded by the sudden luminescence, before Richard moved the torchlight away and muttered an apology.

Blinking away the after-images, Rhys looked down at the two mustelids. Phil was sat with his back propped up by the wall. His right hand fell limply against his lap and appeared to be broken, while blood leaked from a nasty cut that ran from his left ear to the corner of his mouth, just missing his eye.

Rhys knelt down in front of the injured mustelid. “Do you think you can walk?” he asked, gently placing his hand on Phil’s knee.

Phil nodded, his eyes wide in terror.

“And Steph is in there?” Rhys added with a nod of his head in the direction of the chapel, just a wall away.

Again Phil nodded, and he whispered a barely-audible, “Yes.”

Rhys clenched his jaw and looked up at Richard. “Alright then. I want you to take Phil back to the jail as quickly as possible. Get him to David – out of all the mustelids he’s the one who can best help Phil now.”

“Captain Rhys, I can’t do that. I can’t just leave you behind to face that monster alone,” Richard protested, but Rhys silenced him.

“It won’t do for us all to go in there and get caught. If you take Phil back now at least we can rescue someone. If Mr Scott is true to his word, then I will free Steph without having to face the cardinal,” he reasoned, all the while trying to retreat into the shadows so neither Richard nor Phil could see the fear in his eyes or ears.

“If... if you say so Captain Rhys,” Richard said, bowing his head in subservience.

Once Phil was coaxed back to his feet, he leant heavily on Richard as he stumbled across the darkened room. Richard didn’t look back at Rhys as he slid open the door, but the captain could see the tears on Richard’s face shining in the moonlight.

Then the door shut and Rhys was left alone in the dark. He wished he’d asked for the flashlight.

A sliver of golden light at the floor was all that betrayed the presence of the door leading into the chapel. Rhys slowly edged towards it, his hands outstretched, constantly feeling for any obstructions or anything he could use as some form of weapon; anything that could give him an advantage over the bigger and stronger cardinal should a conflict ensue. His fingertips brushed against something firm, smooth, and heavy. He instinctively grabbed hold of it, and was relieved when it came loose without any resistance.

He pressed himself to the door with his ear flat against the smooth metal, desperately trying to catch any snippet of sound passing through the near-soundproof walls. Every modern spaceport within TIE was specifically designed so that very little sound could traverse from one room to another. Not only did this assist in the privacy of those who dwelt within, but it also meant that the docking bay didn’t need to be situated far away from the port buildings; for the noise disruption from launches and landings was almost entirely negated by the outer walls alone. Of course, this did nothing to help Rhys, who had no idea whether or not the chapel was even occupied anymore. He had no choice but to trust that Scott had been successful in leading Cardinal Erik away.

Fumbling in the dark for the door’s control panel, Rhys held his breath as light flooded into the antechamber, dazzling his eyes for a few moments. With great effort, he kept his arms down by his sides and forced his eyes to remain open, not wanting to get caught unawares by Cardinal Erik, but any assault he may have been expecting never came. There was no cry of shock or loathing, the chapel was completely devoid of the red-robed cardinal, though the main entry at the back of the chapel remained open. The faint sound of Cardinal Erik’s voice could just be heard, in discussion with Scott and another voice Rhys couldn’t immediately recognise.

The chapel was traditionally built, being furnished in mostly stone and wooden ornamentation. It was simplistic in design, being dominated by the two rows of pews with the large stone altar on a raised dais in front of the stained glass windows.

From behind the altar, out of sight of both the main doors and the small antechamber to the side of the chapel, came a distressed whimpering. Not wasting a single moment, Rhys rushed across to find Steph hog-tied on the floor. A purple cloth gagged her mouth, though judging by the state of the torn fabric, it had not gone in with any ease. A little blood spattered the fur around her snout, and Rhys was willing to bet that it had come from the hand of Cardinal Erik. Unlike Phil, there was no sign of any obvious injury.

Steph’s beautiful brown eyes were wide with shock as she saw Rhys, had for just a moment her struggles ceased. It didn’t take long for Rhys to loosen the gag from Steph’s mouth and throw it to the floor. Reaching around her he immediately set to work on the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed furiously in Rhys’ ear.

“Getting you out,” Rhys growled in reply. His claws were finding it difficult to find any purchase on the rope, and the knots were tied too tightly to force loose.

Encroaching footsteps made Rhys look up in alarm, but the main door was hidden from view by the stone altar. He heard Scott call out, and the footsteps ceased. They didn’t have long.

“Hurry,” Steph whimpered as Rhys leant over and started gnawing at the rope with his teeth. He grimaced at the nylon taste, but gradually, with a little help from Steph squirming, the knot began to loosen.

Again footsteps outside.

With one last grunt, the rope finally came loose, and it was only a matter of seconds before it had been discarded. Steph flung her arms around Rhys and nuzzled her forehead against his cheek, but they were still far from safe. Though the footsteps had once again stopped, Rhys knew Cardinal Erik could not be far away. It was still with reluctance though that he disentangled himself from Steph. He knew it wasn’t just relief at finding her unharmed. He rather liked having her pressing close to his body. He contented himself with clutching her petite paw in his own.

“Come on,” he whispered, pulling Steph to her feet. He glanced around the side of the altar for a brief moment, but caught no sight of Cardinal Erik, Edgar Scott, or of the unknown third human who Rhys could still occasionally hear but not recognise. He considered for a moment whether to risk the main door; it would mean they wouldn’t have to risk the open courtyard, but Rhys couldn’t be certain how far away the cardinal was. It would do no good to escape into the corridors, only to run straight into the arms of Cardinal Erik.

Rhys pushed Steph in front of him, getting her to flee for the antechamber first. Only once she had vanished completely into the dark room and he heard the quiet hiss of the outer door open did Rhys leave the refuge of the altar. As he did, he turned to look out into the corridor. Edgar Scott was stood next to an informally dressed Captain Uwele, both of whom were facing away from the chapel. Over their shoulder though, Rhys locked eyes with a shocked Cardinal Erik.

The cardinal’s face turned a violent shade of maroon as he bellowed in rage. The whites of his eyes were visible even to Rhys, and his mouth was frothing slightly. The cardinal started to run for the mustelid, but he was sent sprawling by Scott’s trailing leg, which hadn’t moved out of the cardinal’s path in time. The navigator’s arm was also on Uwele’s shoulder, holding the captain back, though he was making no real attempt to move.

Rhys didn’t wait to see if the cardinal was getting up. He sprinted into the antechamber and took hold of Steph’s hand.

“Run,” he yelled. The time for quiet had gone. There was no point in trying to escape undetected anymore. All they could hope for was outrunning Cardinal Erik to the jail, and hope Scott could delay him and Captain Uwele for as long as possible. There was very little in their favour; Rhys wasn’t sure of the way out, and the cardinal was going to be much quicker on his feet than the two mustelids.

Not once letting go of Steph’s hand, Rhys delved into the labyrinthine corridors of the port once more, taking two flights of stairs in the hope of shaking off the cardinal. The air-conditioned hum and their scampering footsteps were the only sounds to break the momentary silence. The motion-activated lights showed them their path without once giving directions; every corridor and white featureless wall looked the same, the only difference being the occasional glimpse into rooms beyond open doors – this one a lecture theatre, another a communal lounge and leisure room, a third being filled with state-of-the-art training simulators.

At every corner Rhys expected to see Cardinal Erik coming the other way, but for a single daring moment he thought they had escaped the clutches of the red-robed Martian. He almost considered slowing down and pausing for breath when he heard heavy footfalls not all that far behind.

“In here,” he gasped, half-guiding, half-pushing Steph into the first open door they came to. He silently shut the door behind them. The lights flickered on. He gestured to Steph to get down, then sat on the floor with his back leaning on the door and hoped that Cardinal Erik didn’t think to check inside.

As all became still once more the lights gradually faded away again.

They were in a conference room: a large table took up most of the room, with about a dozen chairs surrounding it. A projector screen was against the wall to Rhys’ left, shining slightly in the moonlight that streamed in from the large windows at the far end of the room. The upper branches of a eucalyptus tree brushed up against the window. The grounds were right there; and there was a latch on the window. Escape was so close.

Two sets of footsteps closed in on the conference room; one from either direction. They met right outside the door, mere inches from Rhys. He was sure they had to hear his ragged breathing, but the door didn’t open.

“I think we’ve lost them,” Captain Uwele said. He didn’t sound like he was too motivated for a chase.

A loud thud indicated someone’s fist had just impacted with the wall. “I will not accept that Captain,” Cardinal Erik replied with a snarl more savage than any mustelid was able to produce.

“I don’t know what more you expect me to do,” the captain said, his shrug audible.

“Rouse your crew and get them to seal every exit. Those mustelids are here somewhere, and I want them back,” the cardinal demanded, smashing his hand into the wall again. “Search every room, every nook and cranny, every crevice. There is no hiding from the Holy See.”

“I think you’ll find I don’t have the authority for that. Only Captain Rivers can seal the port,” Captain Uwele said.

Rhys began to see hope in Captain Uwele’s reluctance. Not only was it hindering Cardinal Erik’s search, but it could also be a weakness that Leandro could exploit. If they could dig at Captain Uwele’s unwillingness to persecute mustelids then they may even find a desire to help their cause, and Rhys already had an idea to uncover this. One glance at Steph, hiding under the conference table, and seeing her wide, hopeful eyes, told Rhys that she too had noticed the captain’s unintended assistance.

Cardinal Erik let out a cry of unbridled fury. “You will assist me, or by all the power I hold I will find you guilty of blasphemy. Summon your men and flush out these freaks of nature, or the full fury of the Church will fall upon your head,” he shrieked. Once more his fist impacted with the wall.

Even Rhys, who could not even see the cardinal, cringed in fear, while Steph cowered further underneath the table, the little spark of hope gone from her eyes. Her ears were pressed flat against her head, while she clenched her tail tightly and curled up so she was looking towards the window.

Rhys turned his attention back to the corridor. He could hear Captain Uwele sigh in resignation when lesser men would be cowed into submission by the threat of Holy Retribution.

“If that is your will. Should I instruct Mr Scott to do the same with his crew?” the captain asked.

Cardinal Erik pondered this question for just a moment.

“No, I think not. Mr Scott is too close with the mustelids; they’re from the same crew after all. I think it would be better if you send Mr Scott somewhere else entirely where he cannot interfere or, though it pains me to speak it, assist the mustelids in their flight. I pray none are as depraved as to help these creatures, but I have been warned that such people could indeed walk amongst us.

“I entrust that you would inform me of any such sympathy towards mustelids, for those privy to such an act but do not report it are as guilty as those who provide the assistance to a creature as damned as a mustelid,” the cardinal said, a nasty growl coming into his voice.

“If that is your will,” Captain Uwele repeated.

One set of footsteps marked the departure of Captain Uwele, but Rhys could still hear the furious breathing of Cardinal Erik. The Martian was muttering under his breath. Rhys could only make out a few words, but it sounded like the cardinal was damning Edgar Scott. He stood and faced the door. For a mad moment he considered going out and confronting the cardinal, but the snick of a lock made him freeze.

A cool breeze ruffled Rhys’ fur as Steph whispered his name. He turned around and saw with amazement that Steph had crawled out from beneath the table and had opened the window. A wild grin spread across his face. Nothing stood between them and the grounds. From there it was only a short dash back to the jail.

Rhys moved across and embraced Steph, holding her close as the automated lights switched on in response to Rhys’ movement.

“Shit,” Rhys muttered as a triumphant cry sounded from the corridor. The cardinal had noticed the sudden luminescence from the conference room.

Without even waiting from the door to open, Steph scampered out the window and clung to the pale branches of the eucalyptus. She held her hand out to Rhys as the door slid open, revealing the apoplectic cardinal. His hands outstretched, Cardinal Erik ran across the conference room, but Rhys was already outside, one hand in Steph’s, the other slamming the window shut behind him.

Their claws finding purchase in the wood that no human could hope to find, the two mustelids fled down the tree and leapt to the ground before the cardinal had even opened the window again. Wet mud had never felt so beautiful to Rhys’ bare feet, nor had the soft touch of Steph’s fur been so comforting, as they revelled in the moment to just lie still for an instant as Cardinal Erik howled his frustration from the second story window.

“Come on,” Rhys said, holding out his hand to Steph. Though she looked tired and still a little scared, the way she held her tail, and the way her ears perked up, gave away that she was about as happy as she had ever been. There would be more cause for celebration once they got back to the jail, Leandro and Twitch would be most relieved to see them return.