Conroy glanced around. "Supply Officer, Power Officer, Maintenance Officer," he said. "And you."
"I don't count," the dying captain said. "You'll be able to scratch me from the list soon." He frowned. "No Exec? No Navigator?" The Captain leaned back and closed his weary eyes for a moment, then opened them again. "It looks like it's up to you," he said. His veined, aged hand went up to his collar and removed the golden starcluster of his rank. He handed it to Peter.
"Carry on—Captain Conroy."
He closed his eyes in death. Conroy stood up slowly, tears in his eyes, the golden cluster gripped tightly in his hand. The ship would continue on to Procyon now.
"I will, Grandfather. I will."