Rook slept well—a welcome change from the sleepiness nights he had grown accustomed to. Nevertheless, the dark inky rings around his eyes were ever present.
The vote. A draw.
The current situation presented a unique opportunity. With no official captain, anyone had the chance to act like a leader, so long as they were bold enough to do so. He had learned that lesson from his father many years ago, and that doctorine was, in fact, what spurred him into pursuing a career as a military officer in the first place. It was generally accepted that only those from the wealthiest families applied for high ranking positions, but this was not a rule, and in the end, the boldest student prevailed.
Perhaps these three days would be vital in convincing the crew of his superior competence. After exchanging casual greetings with Tharos, he makes his way to the bow, passing a downtrodden Dolphus.
“We are making good progress,” he says to no one in particular.