Finley was not a fan of the song and dance of mutual appreciation in politics, but it was an unfortunate fact of life as a Captain.
And because she didn't enjoy, because she thought it was a pointless, dehumanizing charade, she wasn't very good at it.
The Director of Walker Hospital, the most powerful medical figure in the military, had rolled out the red carpet for her arrival and was waiting at the other end of it with an entourage that was almost large enough to crew the Loss.
There was no way all those people needed to be here or to meet Finley. The majority probably didn't even care who she was and rightfully so, because Finley sure as shit didn't care who they were.
But apparently that was part of the game. At least according to one of the former captains who taught at the academy. "If you want to go far, you need to know who's going to get you there and who could stop you."
Finley'd slept through most of his classes, but she'd been unable to for Drill and Ceremony and unfortunately, once they beat that into your brain, it never left again.
She's instep even when she's walking around her own god damn room a decade and a half later.
At least it's easy as she walks the carpet to General Winters, and she doesn't even have to think as she throws up a crisp salute.
Cecelia Winters was a Republican, but she'd been at Walker Hospital before the war started, she'd stayed there for the entirety of the war, and she hadn't left after it had ended. She'd treated Republicans and Federals and enforced a no-fire zone around the hospital with her own meager armada of hospital ships.
Finley admires her when she's not putting her through this dog and pony show.
It's a bit amusing to run into Peter Betchley as she's shaking hands. It's even more amusing when he attempts to squeeze her hand hard enough to make her flinch, but it's such a childish old-money attempt to intimidate her that she laughs instead.
And slaps him on the shoulder hard enough to rock him to the side.
She's not perfect after all, and Betchley will forever be in need of being taken down a peg.
She catches him scowling as he shakes hands with Evan next, because Evan's built like a tank disguised as a nice guy and can bench-press twice his body weight.
Betchley used to pay his pals to attend physical fitness for him since he was usually still hungover first thing in the morning.
Although now that she thinks about it, she's pretty sure both Evan and Russo took money to do that for him a few times.
She's not sure if it's a good sign or not that he was bold enough to show up here. For all his lackluster efforts in the academy and his slow rise during the war, he's a decent captain. He's a better admin officer, but no one wants to just do that, least of all someone who's a legacy to the degree Betchley is.
It's unfortunate because truly good admin officers are hard to come by, and it makes a massive difference in crew performance when they have one. Ookami's a good deck officer, and Martinez is a great senior NCO, and between them and Evan, the admin is handled well enough.
But it would be better, and less stressful for all of them, if Finley had managed to find an admin officer to take on the challenge of the Loss's combined crew.
Brigadier General Cecelia Winters had started as an admin officer, but unlike her peers, she'd stayed in admin when she went medical and had risen steadily through the ranks until she was running the largest hospital in the solar system.
If she were in any other position, she'd have been rotated out to different commands, but Walker Hospital was such a challenging institution that everyone had been afraid of removing an officer who truly understood how to run it, so she'd stayed.
She'd never rise above Brigadier General, but that hardly mattered when she was the highest-ranking medical officer in the solar system. Even the generals and admirals who did outrank her only did so outside of Walker Hospital. Anyone, regardless of rank, who set foot on the hospital colony reported to her.
Technically, so did Finley for the duration of the Loss's stay. Thankfully, Winters didn't have the reputation of some station commanders, who like to interfere in the command of the ships that stopped at their stations. She was famously hands-off in that regard.
At least, she had been before and during the war.
It's possible something had changed since then. Or that the new government had given her instructions the same way they'd offered opportunities to some of Finley's crew.
By the time everyone's finished shaking hands and pretending they'll remember each other's names five minutes from now, Finley wants a shower and a month where she doesn't have to smile or talk to anyone.
"Captain Fearghail, would you spare me a few minutes?" Brigadier General Winters waved her aids away, so Finley caught Evan's eye and nodded before following Winters to the elevator.
Cecelia Winters was in her late 60s. If the civil war hadn't occurred, she would have aged out of the military at sixty, but due to her actions during the war, she'd been asked to stay until the new military was up and running. Finley didn't know if she wanted that or not, but she still carried herself like an officer twenty years her junior.
Her uniform was spotless, and she was fighting trim. She was one of those people who'd aged annoyingly well, with few wrinkles and a full head of hair pulled into a neat bun.
When the elevator doors closed behind them and she turned to look at Finley, she automatically clasped her hands behind her back like she was planning to inspect a formation.
Finley hadn't been inspected by anyone since a few years into the war, and she wasn't used to the automatic nerves that fired up in the face of it.
~ tbc