Chapter Three

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Evidently,”
Rhys repeated, quieter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everything
went black.