"When in Rome..."

Brian didn’t know why he was called to Director Ferrier’s office, but assumed someone had finally noticed him. When he arrived in the office, there was a man to the left of Ferrier’s desk wearing an auburn goatee on his chin and a green headband which held back his full head of auburn hair. Those features alone identified the individual, but Ferrier’s introduction confirmed it.
“Lord William of Orwin, this is Brian Manchester,” Ferrier said from behind his desk.
One of the original Lords of Orwin was standing in front of him. It did nothing to steady Brian's nerves, but was a better outcome than he could ever have hoped for. “It is a great honor to meet you in person, my lord.” Brian bowed his head.
“Stow it, Manchester.” Lord William’s slight Irish accent was barely noticeable. “I can hear the reverence in your tone. I’m not royalty. Knock it off.”
Brian hesitated. “Of course, my lord.”
The Lord of Orwin sighed. “Know what? I don’t like the way you keep saying ‘my lord’. Just use ‘sir.’ Got it?”
“Yes,” Brian replied, “Sir.”
“Better.” William stepped past Brian to the black hexagon on the wall and said a phrase in the Armogom language to activate it. He turned back to look at Brian. “Let’s go for a walk.” He stepped toward the hexagon and melted into it, disappearing from the room.
Brian followed him through with confidence in his steps and emerged on the other side. The telegate transported them to a place Brian had always avoided. There he stood with Lord William, the metal outer hull of the starship beneath his feet and the vast expanse of stars above his head. Only the pull of artificial gravity and the shield of an artificial atmosphere kept him from the cold void of space. He would feel much safer inside, but he wasn’t about to protest.
“This all right?” William watched him with scrutiny in his blue eyes.
Brian swallowed and nodded. “Of course.”
William smiled. “No it’s not. You wanna’ go back inside. We can do that; I won’t think less of you.”
Brian wanted to go back. He desperately wanted back inside the hull of the ship. But he heard the hidden cynicism in William’s words. Brian couldn’t shake feeling this was a test, and if so he was determined to pass it.
He straightened his posture. “I can handle it.”
William shrugged with indifference and began walking along the hull. Brian apprehensively joined him, and William began with a question.
“You used to be one of the Malefactour back in Chemlok, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“They say you got through the ranks quickly, that you’re pretty ambitious.”
“I can climb ladders, sir.” Brian heard the self-righteousness in his own tone.
“Yeah; now you’re doing the same thing here on the Ambassador. You’ve tried getting promoted over and over again. You’ve stepped all over your workmates, and you’re constantly trying to get the eye of any Directors in sight.”
Brian felt his gut clench. This sounded more like a list of charges. “With all due respect, sir, we don’t know how long we’ll be out here. I intend to make the most of my time. For me, that means getting ahead.”
William stopped walking and faced Brian. “And yesterday you neglected to correct an oversight by a workmate. You reported it to your Director. We almost went into an asteroid field because you wanted that workmate to get in trouble, and for you to get noticed. Well, guess what? You got noticed.”
Brian heard his pulse quicken, and felt the muscles in the back of his neck go taught. “So, am I being transferred? Fired?”
William squeezed his head with his palms. “Unbelievable!” He cried out as he walked away from Brian, then returned. He took a breath. “No, Manchester, you’re not being fired. There’s no such thing out here. And you’re not transferred. You’re in stellar cartography for good reason.”
Brian’s brow furrowed in curiosity. “Then what is this about?”
William sighed. “You believe getting ahead is making the most of your time? Well you’re wrong. Think about it, Manchester; think about us. We’re 3,200 humans on an Armogom vessel, scouring the galaxy for the original owners. Stepping on heads and kissing asses doesn’t fit into it. There’s no corporate ladders to climb, especially out here!” And William gestured to the large ebony expanse, twinkling with stars.
Brian looked at the lonely canvass above. Suddenly he felt a twinge of desperation. He never came out on the hull; it was too scary. Perhaps it was this loneliness which scared him the most. 
“Besides,” William continued, “you’re with the Lords of Orwin now, and we don’t put ourselves above everybody else. We take responsibility for our actions. That’s exactly what you’ll have to do.”
Brian looked back at William.
“You have to make amends with your workmates, help them do the job to the best of their ability, as well as yours. That’s on top of changing what makes the most of your time.”
Brian raised his arms in surrender. “And how exactly am I supposed to change that?”
William smiled. “Talk to Bentley. He had the same problem and beat it. He’s on the delta team in cybernetic maintenance.”
Brian looked at William with understanding. Bentley was a High Assistant in the Malefactour, and now he was merely part of a cyborg repair crew. Maybe he could teach Brian about curbing his ambition. After all, this was in effect a different world; it was bound to require a different way of life.
“Tell you what,” William offered, “I’ll tell Bentley to expect you. If you need help with your workmates, I’ll give some pointers. But the action is still your responsibility. Got it?”
Brian shrugged, and put on a humble smile. “Do I really have a choice?”
William cocked his head. “No, you don’t. Glad you noticed.”

The End