Cecelia Winters was probably a looker when she was younger, not that she's horribly ugly now. But she's definitely a lifelong soldier, and lifelong soldiers have a certain look about them. It's attractive in its own way. That competence, experience, and unshakeable will.
But service wears on you, mentally and physically, and no one can ever really hide it completely.
Winters is a shade too stiff, a shade too pale. It makes her look almost permanently exhausted, which she probably is, given the requirements of running a place like Walker Hospital.
"You were a Federalist. During the war, correct?" Winters had a sharp gaze, calculating. A woman in the military was never completely relaxed. Granted, no human in space was ever completely relaxed either. Not if they were intelligent enough to realize the true risks of their situation at any given moment.
"I was." The world may have changed now that the war was over, but Finley was still proud of her service. Proud of her people. In a weird way, she's proud of both sides because at least they fought for what they believed in, regardless of who was right or wrong in the end.
That's a lot more than she can say for some people.
Winters nods, unsurprised. "You had quite the record."
Finley raised an eyebrow, unsure of the point behind such a pointless statement. "So they say."
Her flippancy must annoy Winters, because the older woman frowns. "This is hardly the time for attitude."
"Apologies, General. I'm just confused about why we're having this conversation." It's the closest Finley can come to an apology she doesn't mean because she's always been a terrible actress.
"They shipped Betchley here to take your command."
"I'm aware."
"And the trip so far?"
"Had a few interesting moments, but nothing that couldn't be handled at the lowest level."
"I'm surprised to hear that."
"I'm sure." Finley turned to the glass wall of the elevator, looking out over one side of Walker Hospital and the glittering Rings of Saturn. "I'm surprised you heard about it all the way out here."
"General Abernathy gave me the heads up. We served together. Long before the war."
"Ah."
"He suspected that there would be some resistance to your command."
Which implied Abernathy had been a part of it. Finley didn't quite buy that.
"He was concerned about what it would do to morale on the Loss. You've been a captain long enough to understand the true value of morale on a spaceship."
And you've never commanded one once in your life, Finley thought. All starship captains were like that. They were so few in number and they worked so hard to get there that they tended to be a somewhat exclusive club, and Finley could admit they had their less pleasant moments where they were judgmental and exclusionary. The position was so unique and so storied that it was impossible to get away from completely. And since most captains would rather go down with their ships than move or advance to another position, it was made up of people who lived for their job and didn't like sharing it with anyone else.
"I am. Morale is life or death on a ship. Especially with the mission we're beginning." They were going to be completely alone once they crossed the light wall. The new government had a few more ships that were currently being returned to service, but there would be no quick rescue. No immediate backup.
It would take days to get help, if not weeks.
And there was no guarantee the Valerii or the Alari were going to be friendly.
Hell, they might try to blow the Loss out of the water as soon as they saw it, and then Finley would have to turn them into stardust, and it would be awkward. Finley wasn't a diplomat, but even she knew they wouldn't be able to come back from that.
"How many?"
"A few. Most of the attempts weren't serious. Angry people impulsively giving in to grudges."
"Most?"
"Someone did start building a bomb."
Winters started in surprise. "A bomb?"
"They only made the control module."
"One of ours?"
"No, that one was a former Federal, actually." Russo had him under watch, but he'd made no move to try and complete his bomb. Finley was pretty confident that he'd lost his nerve.
"And he's in custody?
Finley shook her head.
"And you think that's wise?"
"For now. There are still a lot of hard feelings over the war. I'm sure you've seen it." Walker Hospital had been the first integrated command. All military medical officers not assigned to ships had been assigned to Walker Hospital immediately after the armistice to help treat the massive number of wounded from the final battles. They stayed in place since, so she was sure Winters had managed similar challenges to what Finley was facing, but in an entirely different setting. "It's not possible to just erase all that anger, and that's not the way to handle it anyway. Anger is not an invalid emotion. It doesn't need to be shoved aside or forgotten. It's not a bad thing. It's an emotional response, just like happiness and shock and confusion and hurt, and it deserves the same consideration."
"Anger causes damage."
Finley snorted. "Anger causes less damage than any other emotion. It's immediate, and often brutal and outsized, but it also usually burns out quickly if it's allowed to explode. You know what people ignore until it becomes a much more dangerous issue? Sadness. Hurt. Grief. Even happiness can be damaging when one person is so concerned with their own happiness that they think it entitles them to take someone else's. And all of those hurt more than anger. The damage they do lasts longer than the damage anger does, because it comes from a place that people don't expect to hurt them. Which is stupid, because everything can hurt you."
Winters inclined her head in reluctant agreement. "Emotions are the most destructive human force."
~ tbc