By his estimation, Gryff is now First Mate. Amazing, the rungs of the employment ladder one can leap when there is a deadly on-board virus. From mechanic third class to here, the navigation room, in under two weeks. He gazes out the port window, naming stars after deceased crew. They are heading back to Earth now on his order; the poor Captain is indisposed. In Gryff’s pocket, the ever-present vial. The one he will proudly hand over to the President of the United States. The one that will allow him to jump even higher. The stars wait for new names.