Captain Harvey LeGuin walked from window to window. Pausing each time to take a brief glance at the stars before closing the shutters. It made little difference to the light level in the room, but it was habit. One little tradition from the home that he and Jack had fled from and would probably never see again. The final shutter closed with a quiet hiss. Fighting the urge to sigh, he turned back to face his son, who was watching him with impatient eyes. Ok then, He said, sitting down on the end…