Traitor

Chapter One

The twin stars of Alpha Centauri were still small on the viewscreens of the Harvester, but they dominated the attention of everyone on the bridge. Those on the crew who had never visited the Sirius System would never have seen a binary system before. Even Rhys had only seen Sirius and the Pup a few times, and he sat back in his seat in wonder.

To the human-turned-starat captain, it wasn’t so much the sight of the stars themselves that filled him with such awe, but what they represented. This was the culmination of both the most amazing and wretched month of Rhys’s life. A month ago he would never have imagined he would be drifting in Centauran space, minutes after broadcasting a message of surrender. A month ago he had been human, seething at the loss of his best friend who had chosen to defect from the empire. That had triggered a chain of events that had robbed him of his humanity. Everything he had thought stable and secure in his life had been taken from him, and he was left with almost nothing but a broken body and the loyalty of his crew.

That loyalty had already cost Rhys dearly. His first officer should be standing by his side, but there was no one there. Edgar Scott had given his life for Rhys to escape the clutches of the Vatican in his frantic escape from Terra. Trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears as the thoughts of his first officer’s sacrifice threatened to overwhelm him, Rhys looked up to the viewscreens. He blinked away his tears and flicked his ears, then turned to the sensory officers.

Uh, Miss Pool. Mr Dewson. Why do we have ships approaching and no call?

Nothing on the scanners, Pool replied. She didn’t look up, but Dewson did.

Shit, Dewson said simply. He tapped Pool on the shoulder, who finally looked up from her equipment. She blanched, and looked between her monitor and the viewscreens as though unable to believe what the visual cameras were telling her.

A dozen ships approached. They slowly fanned out to spread around the Harvester, blocking off any escape route. Rhys had never heard of any ship cloaking itself so completely that it didn’t show up on scanners, especially at such close range, but he knew Dewson and Pool wouldn’t have missed them on their sensors. Though the ship had taken damage in their escape from Terra, Rhys had been told that had been repaired. The realspace sensors hadn’t been impacted by the damage anyway.

Rhys’s tail twitched as he rose to his feet. He leaned most of his weight onto his left foot, with his right still unable to take much pressure before pain flared in his leg. He held his weakened arms close to his chest, trying his best not to move them too much. His heart hammered loudly as he waited for a message to come through from the ships. There was a temptation in his mind to ask his weapons officer to raise the shields, but he also knew that would be a bad idea. He didn’t want to do anything that might provoke the Centauran ships into aggression. He glanced across to Deborah Simms, but she had turned away from her terminal, hands rested on her lap. The weapons officer wasn’t about to do anything stupid without orders.

Finally, the communications officer raised his hand to indicate that someone was in communication with the ship. He held his other hand to his ear and nodded a few times as a nervous buzz of conversation rippled around the bridge. Everyone fell silent as McDonald spun around in his chair to look up at Rhys. Fleet-Admiral Bosler has requested to speak with you directly.

Put them through, Rhys said. He stiffened his back and tried to draw himself up to a greater height, but he didn’t have much to work with.

The viewscreens flickered, and the image of a human woman in an unfamiliar military uniform emerged above the view of the surrounding ships. Her eyebrow lifted. I am Fleet-Admiral Bosler of the Centauran Defence Fleet. May I ask who I am speaking to?

Rhys limped forward so he could be clearly seen. His shoulder twitched as he instinctively started to salute, but he kept his arm by his side. I am Captain Rhys Griffiths, formerly of Terra.

I was unaware TIE had changed their policy on starats, the fleet-admiral said. How did you come by a Terran warship?

They haven’t, Fleet-Admiral, Rhys replied. He straightened his back, trying to hide the wince of pain as he put too much weight on his leg. I was once human, and a respected captain of the Terran fleet. Since becoming a starat, my situation changed drastically and rapidly, and I come to Alpha Centauri now because there is no home left for me on Terra.

Become a…? Interesting, Fleet-Admiral Bosler said. She scratched her nose as she turned her head to one side, clearly listening in on an unheard conversation at her end. She turned back to face Rhys, some of her black hair falling across her eyes. She quickly swept it to the side. "It’s not for me to decide whether you have the right to stay here or not. It is only for me to escort you to Centaura. We ask that you surrender yourself to my ship, the Shield of Justice, for further questioning. We will dispatch a crew to pilot your ship. Will you comply?"

Rhys nodded. I will, yes.

That’s good. It makes things much easier. Stand by for further instructions. And remember, any sign of aggression and we will open fire. You will not survive. Leaving her threat hanging in the air, she terminated the contact and her image disappeared from view. The ring of ships around the Harvester provided the perfect credibility to her words. Rhys had no doubt that they would be destroyed before they could even fire a single shot.

Rhys sunk back down into his chair. He glanced around the bridge, and he could sense the relief that was spreading through his crew. He was apprehensive about leaving them all behind, but he knew also that he didn’t have much choice in the matter. It would be his first time on board a CGP ship, the Terrestrial Dawn aside. He didn’t really count his brief detainment on the Dawn, as that had been a ship that had just defected from the empire. These ships had been built on Centaura. He wondered how different they were.

Rhys looked around his bridge. In his absence he would need someone to take command, but the chain was broken without his first officer. Scott had only been first officer for such a short period of time after his predecessor had been removed from the ship in disgrace. There hadn’t been time for Rhys to even consider someone else to step up if necessary. Thankfully, some had stepped up out of necessity. With Scott killed, and Rhys in an induced coma in the medical ward, there had been no one of official authority to guide the ship during the six days through subspace.

Mr Chekolin, you’ll have the bridge, Rhys said, addressing the ship’s pilot. "You’ll co-operate with their every demand. I don’t expect I’ll be able to return to the Harvester before descending to the planet, so I entrust you to dock her safely. Don’t do anything rash, and we’ll all be together again on the surface. Good luck."

Aye, Captain, Chekolin said. He saluted his captain, and the rest of the crew followed suit. Only McDonald didn’t address Rhys, but his head was bowed as he was in conversation with someone on the Shield of Justice.

Rhys rose to his feet and took a few steps closer to the screens at the front of the bridge. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the binary stars. This far out in the system, they were both distant and small. Even the closer of the two was barely a quarter of the size of Sol from Terra. But they were still beautiful. Rhys couldn’t wait to get closer to them, and to see the twin stars in the sky from the surface of Centaura.

Captain? McDonald said. The communications officer raised his hand to get Rhys’s attention. "They’re sending a shuttle across. They ask that you be ready to board it once it docks with the Harvester."

Rhys nodded and spun around on his toes. His heart started to hammer in his chest again. His tail flicked back and forth as he made a few unsteady steps. The ache in his right leg was more noticeable all of a sudden. He bit his lip and glanced up at the ship’s pilot. She’s all yours, Sub-Lieutenant Chekolin. Look after her.

Will do, Captain. She’s in safe hands. Good luck yourself, Chekolin replied. The pilot walked with Rhys for a few steps, but the pilot stopped and turned around next to Scott’s former station.

The crew saluted Rhys as he left the bridge. He hurried back down through the ship as quickly as his injured hip allowed. The ship was starting to noticeably cool now that they were able to vent some of the excess heat. Without most of the services crew, the ship still felt eerily quiet. Almost half of those needed to smoothly run the ship had been left behind on Terra, as they had refused to follow their captain into exile from the empire. Rhys didn’t blame any of them. He couldn’t blame them. Because of him, they would have lost everything. Their homes, their families, and their old lives. He could only be grateful for those who had decided to follow him.

Rhys knew he couldn’t delay in getting down to the shuttle bay. He wanted to be there before the shuttles arrived, so the CGP could have no doubt that he was following their requests. His leg protested the quick pace though, and he grimaced as he limped on. He tried to hold onto the wall for support, but almost fell over entirely as he leaned to his right, his arm useless to use for support. He couldn’t place any pressure on his hand without his entire arm flaring up in pain. He was glad no one saw him, and he forced himself to stop for a moment to regain his composure.

Rhys was surprised by who met him at the shuttle bay. He had expected his services commander to be one of the first to refuse to remain on the Harvester, but Simon Briggs stood by the sealed airlocks. The human turned as he heard Rhys’s footsteps on the metal floor.

Captain, Briggs grunted, looking almost embarrassed to be seen there. The shuttles are about five minutes away.

Rhys slowly approached Briggs, his head tilted to one side and one ear crooked. Since his transformation, his relations with the services commander had been strained, especially as Rhys had foisted several more starats into his service. I didn’t expect to see you here.

Briggs shrugged his shoulders and turned away again. Better than staying behind, wasn’t it?

For me, maybe. I would have thought you would have wanted to stay behind. That you wouldn’t want to work on my ship, Rhys said. He flicked his tail as he stood by the service commander’s side. The two looked out through the empty airlock. In the distance Rhys could just about see the approaching shuttle.

You’re still my captain, Briggs said gruffly. He stood with his hands behind his back, and didn’t once look down at Rhys. I’m not like Cooper. I don’t… I try not to be.

Rhys kept his silence. Briggs had certainly been guilty of abusing his starat workers before, and Rhys, through his neglect, had allowed it to happen. Rhys chose not to bring this up. If Briggs was attempting to apologise for his past behaviour, then Rhys didn’t want to discourage him from it.

I did what you asked, Captain, Briggs continued after a few moments of awkward silence. I spoke with them. Didn’t know they could speak, other than following orders.

Rhys twitched his muzzle. Truth be told, nor did I. That’s why I don’t blame you for anything you did under my command. It would be hypocritical of me to blame you, or to accept any apologies from you.

I’ve already apologised to them both, Captain, Briggs said. He half-turned away from Rhys, keeping one eye on the shuttle bay. I don’t know if my apology has been accepted, but I have done what I could.

That’s all I can ask, Commander Briggs, Rhys said. He stood a few paces behind the services commander, hands resting limply by his sides. There wasn’t much more that could be said between them. Rhys was glad for the seemingly genuine contrition from Briggs. It was too late now for grudges and ill-will to be spread through the crew.

Right on time, Briggs announced the Centauran shuttle was docking to the ship. The services commander focused on making sure it was properly connected before he went to open the airlock. Metal banged against metal, and air hissed as it vented into the airlocks as ship and shuttle joined together.

Eight humans and two starats were inside the shuttle. Rhys noticed they were all armed, and that the humans were all shorter than normal. They barely stood taller than the pair of starats. One human stepped forward ahead of the others and extended his right hand to Rhys. The starat hesitated before offering his in return, and he couldn’t help the whimper of pain that came with the human squeezing around his hand. The human withdrew his hand, his face reddening slightly, as though he had only just noticed the bandages wrapped around Rhys’s hands.

"I’m Captain Griffiths of the Harvester, Rhys said. His hand trembled as it dropped back down to his side, and his voice was tight with pain I trust everything is as planned."

Commodore Brent here, the human replied. He gestured for his companions to come forward from the shuttle. So far, yes. Everything seems normal. You’re to take the shuttle back. Fleet-Admiral Bosler will be expecting you. She’s quite looking forward to it, in fact.

Rhys nodded and stepped to one side so everyone could emerge from the small shuttle. The two starats took a good look at him as they passed him, but didn’t say anything. He was slightly unnerved by their attention. Commander Briggs can see you up to the bridge. Sub-Lieutenant Chekolin knows you’re coming and will be expecting your arrival.

Once we’ve seen you off, then we shall follow your commander, Commodore Brent said. He gestured into the shuttle with one hand, his other returning to rest just above his pistol.

Rhys quickly moved into the shuttle, not wanting to give the commodore any chance of using the pistol. He wasn’t alone in there. A third starat was waiting inside for him. Her fur was pure white, and her pale, pink eyes seemed to gaze unseeing until they locked on to him. Take a seat, please, she said. Her voice was breathy, ephemeral. He quickly obeyed, and the airlock sealed closed behind them. The shuttle felt strangely heavy. The air pulled down painfully on his arms, and each movement took that little bit more effort. Gravity pulled stronger at his body than he had ever felt before.

The albino starat moved to the front of the shuttle. She pressed a few buttons on a control panel and spoke into a microphone. I have him. Departing now.

Rhys could hear the shuttle detach from the Harvester, before the gentle rumble of its engines started to carry him away from his ship. The albino starat didn’t appear to be piloting the shuttle at all, so Rhys could only assume that it was following an automated path between the two ships. The starat stayed to the front of the shuttle, and Rhys wasn’t sure if he was meant to stay away from her. After a couple of minutes waiting in silence, he slowly rose from his seat. He had to fight the oppressive weighty feeling that pushed him down to the floor. The other starat was sat in the front row of seats, her eyes closed and head bowed.

I’m Captain Rhys Griffiths, he said, hoping to introduce himself to the albino. He realised a moment later that she probably knew exactly who he was already. She was on a mission to collect him, after all.

The starat looked up sharply. Snow, she said simply. She made no indication whether Rhys was permitted to approach closer or not, and he could only assume she had stated her name. It certainly suited her pale fur colour.

Nice to meet you, Snow. May I sit here? Rhys asked, gesturing down to the seat next to the albino. His hand bumped against the seat, jarring his elbow and sending thumps of pain through his arm.

Snow stared up at Rhys with unblinking eyes that seemed to stare right through him. She nodded. You may.

Rhys sat down by her side, and she immediately darted out to grab hold of Rhys’s hand in hers. She ignored his cry of pain as she pulled his palm up to her muzzle and sniffed deeply, before slowly moving along until she reached his elbow. Though alarmed, Rhys didn’t pull his hand back, not until he felt her tongue against his fur. He recoiled then and held his arm close to his chest as he leaned away from the albino.

You have an interesting scent, Snow said, seemingly unaware of the discomfort she had caused. More like a human than a starat. Most unusual.

Rhys pinned his ears down as he looked across to the other starat. You know about that? Were you with the Fleet-Admiral?

Snow shrugged her shoulder. Know? I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to know. I smell human on you. Not on your fur or on your clothes, but on the essence of your very self.

What does that mean? Rhys asked. He tilted his head to the side and frowned, suddenly wondering if it would have been better had he stayed in his seat at the back of the shuttle.

The albino starat smiled. You wouldn’t understand if I told you.

Rhys leaned back in his seat and dropped his arms down onto his lap, wincing as even the light weight of his hand hurt his injured hip. He knew he wasn’t going to get any answers from the albino starat, so he decided to just drop back into silence until they reached the Shield of Justice. He wasn’t afforded the opportunity, as Snow reached across to gently brush her fingers against his right arm. This was a recent injury, wasn’t it?

Rhys pulled his arm out of Snow’s reach. He half-turned away from her and cradled his right arm close to his chest. He hunched forward and curled his tail up over his lap. Very recent, yes, he said quietly.

I might be able to help with that. If you get past Fleet-Admiral Bosler, then I will seek you out, she said. She placed a hand on Rhys’s shoulder, but he shrugged her away. No one should suffer with limitations of the body like that. Trust me. I of all people know the suffering that brings.

Rhys scoffed, but then he looked back at her. He looked into her pale pink eyes. They didn’t move at all, with no small movements as they adjusted and focused on their surroundings. They were completely still. He flicked his ears. You’re blind, aren’t you?

I see more than you do, she said. She smiled and placed a finger on her lips. "Hush now. We’re about to dock with the Shield."

Already? Rhys asked in surprise. He hadn’t expected the journey across to be over so quickly. But sure enough, after only a few moments he felt the rumble of the engines as they slowed the shuttle down. A loud bang followed shortly afterwards, jolting the entire shuttle. Snow didn’t move at all, though Rhys almost fell out of his seat. A few rattles and clanks followed, before silence fell on the shuttle again.

Snow was first to her feet. Rhys watched as she walked, trying to find a hint of her blindness, but she walked unerringly. She even stopped by the airlock door and turned to look right at Rhys with her sightless eyes. Are you coming? The shuttle isn’t going back to your ship.

Rhys moved as quickly as his aching leg could carry him. He reached Snow’s side just as the airlock opened up again. Instead of the dark interior of his ship, the doors opened out onto a bright, open hall. A semi-circle of further airlocks all faced a flat wall, in front of which stood a dozen officers and officials of the CGP. Again, Rhys was struck by how short the humans were. They were, on average, only about a dozen centimetres taller than the four starats present amongst their number. Like inside the shuttle, Rhys felt like he was being pressed down to the floor by a heavy weight resting on his shoulders.

In the middle of the crowd, Rhys recognised Fleet-Admiral Bosler. He didn’t know what was expected of him, whether he should step forward ahead of Snow and introduce himself. Before he could properly decide, the fleet-admiral moved forward herself. Captain Griffiths, she said. She spread her arms wide. "Welcome to the Shield of Justice. You will be under my personal guard until we reach Centaura, where you will be handed over to Major-General Ulrich for debriefing. She deals with all military refugees from Terra."

Rhys nodded and flicked the tip of his tail. He wanted to ask about Aaron Lee, but he decided to save those questions for a more appropriate time. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Fleet-Admiral, he said instead. I certainly hope to make a good impression.

We shall see. Come with me then, Fleet-Admiral Bosler said. She waited for Rhys to come up by her side, before turning on her heel. No one tried to cuff him or restrain him in any way, though the men either side of the fleet-admiral closed in to block off any attempt of escape. Not that Rhys had anywhere to run to. He tried not to limp too prominently as he followed after the fleet-admiral.

Beyond the shuttle bay was a mazy network of corridors to Rhys. They were all clean and bright, so much more so than the Harvester. They were wider than any corridor or passageway on every empire ship he had been on, though the ceilings appeared lower. Everything felt spacious, like he wasn’t actually on a spaceship, though the soft rumble of the engines told him otherwise. The engines grew louder as the ship began to manoeuvre in preparation for the jump to Centaura.

It wasn’t long before Rhys was left alone with Fleet-Admiral Bosler. They climbed a flight of stairs which led up to a single doorway, which the fleet-admiral opened with a touch of her hand on a scanner. The door opened up onto a wide balcony. The first thing that grabbed Rhys’s attention was the view. Beyond the edge of the balcony were wide screens that showed off the binary stars.

Cautiously, Rhys limped forward ahead of the fleet-admiral. She said nothing to warn him, so he moved all the way forward to the railings that ran around the edge of the balcony. Below him, Rhys realised was the main bridge of the ship. Already he could see the crew was hard at work, but to Rhys’s surprise the view of the binary stars drifted out of view as the ship slowly spun around.

I thought we were going to Centaura, Rhys said uncertainly. He glanced back at Fleet-Admiral Bosler, who had pulled the door closed behind her. She approached the balcony railing and pointed towards a small red spot in the middle of the screens as they stopped rotating. The star was barely bigger than those providing the expansive backdrop of the galaxy, but as Rhys focused on it he realised it was much closer.

Centaura orbits Proxima Centauri, not Toliman or Rigil, the fleet-admiral said in explanation. She smirked as she looked down to Rhys. Has the empire forgotten that? Interesting.

I… Rhys paused, all confidence taken out of him by that simple declaration. I can’t recall Proxima Centauri ever being mentioned. We only ever mention Alpha Centauri.

I wonder… Fleet-Admiral Bosler said, but she didn’t clarify any further. Instead she just smiled as she looked down at the bridge, before barking down a couple of orders. Prepare the jump drives. Launch when locked on.

The ship’s engines whined loudly as it made the jump into subspace. The screens flashed to the familiar white, but after a few moments something different happened. Specks of red and black streaked across what was usually an endless plain of unchanging white. At first Rhys thought they were entirely random, but then he realised there was a pattern to them, and they were coalescing into a more regular formation. The specks and streaks whirled around the ship with small tendrils reaching out. Eyes appeared to gaze from the void. He got the impression of something living out there, but that was impossible. There was nothing in subspace.

Deal with it, Snow. Fleet-Admiral Bosler’s voice rung out through the bridge. It snapped Rhys’s attention back from the mysterious patterns for just a moment. He looked down to the bridge to see the albino starat standing with her hands outstretched towards the front of the ship. When Rhys looked up again, the distortions were gone. The screens were all white again.

The fur on the back of Rhys’s neck was raised. He had jumped hundreds of times in his ship, but never had he seen anything like that before. He didn’t know what to make of it, but he felt uncomfortable asking the fleet-admiral about it. He felt like that would display more of his ignorance. It was a situation he hadn’t felt in a long time about military matters. He had been confused about his new starat body and the realisation that they were far more than barely-thinking slaves, but on the bridge of a ship he should be his element. He didn’t like not knowing something that seemed like common knowledge to everyone else, but it was even worse to draw attention to his ignorance.

Instead, Rhys just stood beside the railings. He wanted to grip onto it for support, but his hands hurt just thinking about trying to squeeze his fingers around the cold metal. He realised he was breathing quickly, and he tried to control that again. His thoughts kept snapping back to those eyes though. Nothing lived in subspace, he tried to remind himself of that. Nothing could live there. It was an empty void. It was emptier than even the vacuum of space.

Abruptly, the screens flickered from white to black. At first, Rhys was worried it was that strange entity again, before he realised they were back in realspace. His ears flicked as he glanced down at the bridge, worried they had been forced to jump back into realspace early, but there didn’t appear to be any concern on the bridge below. He then realised what should have been obvious to begin with. Proxima Centauri loomed large on the screens. The star was deep red, a much darker shade than Sol. The star looked large on the screens, but the view wasn’t magnified at all. Rhys could tell they were fairly close to the star.

Somehow, they were already there. Rhys knew that journey would have taken over an hour in an empire ship. It should have, at least. The entourage of supporting ships all appeared on the screens around the Shield of Justice, and the Harvester was amongst them. He knew Chekolin had never piloted the ship so quickly before. Travelling so fast through subspace was too dangerous. Countless ships had been lost before they had found a safe speed to travel through the white void.

Almost lost in the surprise, Rhys noticed a planet orbiting close to the red dwarf. Like the star it partnered, the planet appeared red in colour. Even from their great distance, Rhys could see small pinpricks of light on the dark side.

They had reached Centaura.

Chapter Two

Centaura appeared to be a large planet. From afar it had a red tinge to the surface, but closer up Rhys could see that there were bright blue oceans on the surface too. There wasn’t much green on the surface, though there were some areas to the far north that were a deep, vibrant emerald. There were two major landmasses, separated north to south. Around the equator was a single, unbroken ocean with only a few small islands to break up the endless expanse of blue.

Above the planet was a massive satellite that reminded Rhys of the Star Hub around Terra. It gleamed in the light of Proxima Centauri as it hung above the north pole. As they got closer, Rhys noticed a second, smaller satellite above the northern continent, and then a few more, dotted around between the two continents. He could just about make out a thin tendril running between the planet and each of the smaller satellites. Rhys could only assume they were space elevators that connected them with the planet’s surface.

The Shield of Justice docked smoothly at the first satellite Rhys had seen, which was the largest of them all. It looked almost as big as the Star Hub. Fleet-Admiral Bosler didn’t speak once as her crew worked. From what Rhys could see from his vantage point above the bridge, she didn’t need to. Her crew were incredibly efficient, working in tandem together without the need of someone to co-ordinate their actions. Rhys knew his crew were capable of the same, but it was beautiful to watch nevertheless.

Once the ship’s engines were powered down, Fleet-Admiral Bosler led Rhys back out from the bridge. He was quickly taken out through the airlocks that connected the ship to the great satellite. Memories of the Star Hub came to the fore again. Clean, crisp corridors curved out of sight in both directions, with massive windows providing a brilliant view of the planet below. Rhys wanted to stop and look, but the fleet-admiral gave him no opportunity to do so. She hurried him on, leading him counter-clockwise around the ring.

As they descended deeper into the satellite, Rhys noticed that there were three more humans following just behind them. He wasn’t surprised. He expected to be treated with distrust, but having an armed guard made him feel nervous. His tail puffed up a little, despite his best efforts to control his worry.

Finally, they reached what appeared to be a central hub for the satellite; a massive circular room with the words Network Central written in massive letters around the top of the wall. Unlike the Star Hub, it seemed to be solely dedicated for military use, as Rhys couldn’t see any civilians present. Four wide corridors branched off from the great hall. The ceiling was constructed of a transparent material that looked a little thicker and sturdier than glass, letting the dim light of Proxima Centauri in, and giving a clear view of the galaxy above. Between each of the corridors were numerous doors that led to the shuttles, leading both to the surface and the other satellites that orbited Centaura.

The fleet-admiral had a short conversation with a starat behind one of the desks. A shiver had passed through Rhys’s spine when he first saw that starat. She wasn’t a slave, or a servant. She was an employee. A worker. Rhys wanted to talk to her, but the fleet-admiral directed Rhys to follow her towards the shuttle bay.

They boarded the first shuttle in the bay, with Rhys boarding before the fleet-admiral and the armed guards. The starat was the only one who took a seat, not trusting his leg to support his weight, and he didn’t want to try and keep himself upright should he fall. Instinct would bring out his arms to grab onto something, and he knew the pain would be almost unbearable.

We’ll just be a couple of minutes from the Caledonia Station and the elevator down to the city below, the fleet-admiral said. She leaned on the back of the seats in front of Rhys, looking down at the starat with interest. I’m fascinated to learn more about you, Captain Griffiths. Even if I won’t be directly involved with your integration into Centaura, I will still be keeping an eye on your progress.

I’m flattered, Fleet-Admiral, Rhys replied. He couldn’t meet her eye, and he looked down at his tail, draped across his lap. I hope I can live up to your expectations.

I have no doubt you will, Fleet-Admiral Bosler replied with a nod of her head. You will be a great asset to Centaura, I’m sure.

Rhys simply nodded and kept his silence. He didn’t yet know how he would feel serving for Centaura. As much as he knew he was no longer welcome in the empire, it was still his home. He was still Terran in his heart, and he didn’t know how long it would take for that to change, if it ever would. If he were ordered to open fire on Terran ships, he didn’t yet know if he would be able to carry out such a command without hesitation. He looked down at his bandaged hands. If he were ordered to open fire on Cardinal Erik, then he would have no such moral dilemma.

As the fleet-admiral had promised, the shuttle docked at the second satellite just a few minutes later. Once again they disembarked into a network of wide, open corridors that curved around the central hub of the satellite. This time, instead of delving deeper into the middle of the satellite, they dropped down a few levels to sink to the lowest depths, closest to the planet below.

The corridors were busy. Humans and starats alike walked past as they travelled between the space elevator and the shuttles that took them to the various other satellites. There was a mixture of both civilian and military, but it wasn’t long before the fleet-admiral led them through a checkpoint into a secure area that was only for those in the Centauran military. A single flight of stairs sunk down to the lowest point of the satellite beyond the checkpoint, and Rhys soon found himself in a wide, glass-walled room. Two other similar rooms could be seen on either side. Directly in front of them were six doors that led to the shafts of the space elevator.

This is where we leave you, Captain Griffiths. I am due back at Central for a debrief with my captains, Fleet-Admiral Bosler said. She stepped back to fall into line with the pair of armed guards. Major-General Ulrich is already waiting for you on the surface.

Rhys wasn’t sure whether he was meant to salute. He hesitated a few moments, before providing a quick one. Tensing his elbow so much sent a spasm through his arm, and he quickly lowered it back to his side. The door opened behind him, and he stepped back into the enclosed pod. He tried not to think about the significant drop that was about to follow.

Until next time, Captain Griffiths. Good luck, the fleet-admiral said. She surprised the starat by quickly saluting him, before the doors closed and sealed Rhys away inside the pod.

There was room for at least a dozen people inside the pod, but Rhys was the only one present. There was only one small window in the elevator, through which Rhys could just about make out some of the infrastructure of the elevator shaft, with a brief glance at the dark sky beyond that. His stomach lurched as the pod began to descend, and through the window he could see the rapid acceleration of the pod as it fell to Centaura. He looked away from the window as a sudden sense of vertigo struck him. It was rare he got to actually see the planet approaching at such an incredible speed, and it unnerved him greatly. Reminded him of some old nightmares he would rather forget.

The entire trip down to the surface took nearly ten minutes. Rhys tried to ignore everything that was happening outside the window, but occasionally his eyes were drawn to the changing colours. For a while everything was red as the pod heated up, and the elevator shook slightly as it descended into the atmosphere, but then everything turned a dark, almost black, blue. Gradually the colour lightened from almost black to a deep twilight azure. Clouds whipped by, before the elevator started to gradually slow. It shuddered and then came to a halt as the view of the sky disappeared. His legs felt heavy and the air weighed down onto his shoulders. He had to lean against the wall for a moment to feel confident in his balance.

The doors hissed open, and Rhys limped out to find himself in a huge room that reminded him somewhat of a warehouse. He was up on a raised platform, where the other elevator doors opened up. Down below was a large, open floor with barriers that zigzagged across the room. It would usually have been an area where people would queue to use the elevator, but for now it was empty.

One starat and two humans were waiting for Rhys. The starat stepped forward and offered her right hand for Rhys. He tentatively returned the gesture, but she barely touched his bandaged hand as she shook it. She wore a uniform similar to the fleet-admiral, but like most starats in the empire she forwent the use of shoes. Welcome to Centaura, Captain Griffiths, she said. I’m Major-General Ulrich. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.

Rhys tried to hide his surprise, but something must have shown as the starat laughed. You’re not in the empire anymore, Captain Griffiths, she said. She gestured for Rhys to start walking. She stayed by his side as one of the guards moved on in front. You’ll find things happen very differently here.

Rhys breathed out slowly. I can already see that, ma’am, he said in a small voice. He had