"It's the 32nd century, why are elevators so small?"
"Is that your way of saying you don't want to talk about how you almost restarted the war at a bar last night?"
"Shut it Rus, I did not almost restart the war." Evan hissed, feeling his face heat as Russo and Finley grinned. Littlefoot, Finley's beloved Australian shepherd barked from her place at their feet. Evan glared down at her. "Not you to."
"What happened?" Finley was dressed to the nines in the new dress uniform of the UES. Part of the new government and new military force had been the designing of new uniforms and the banning of any of the older ones. Even the medals had been evaluated and those that they decided to keep had been redesigned and cross-awarded where necessary. Finley's chest was so covered in precious stones and metals that she looked like a walking war museum.
Evan and Russo weren't chumps in that department either. Both of them had enough extra weight on the front of their uniforms that they'd had to use special pins to keep the top in place and all three of them had the full ten bars running down their right shoulders to signify they'd served the full ten years of the previous war. There weren't many who's joined young enough and survived long enough to have all ten bars.
"Nothing." Evan fiddled with the sleeves of his pitch-black uniform.
Russo grin got bigger. The fucker must have heard something, Evan realized. While Finley and Evan had gone from science to command, Russo had been straight security the entirety of his career. When the war ended, he'd been Finley's Chief Security Officer. Evan had been First Officer, having turned down a ship of his own when Finley turned down a promotion to Fleet Admiral.
The end of the war had been written on the wall the last few years. They'd all been surprised it dragged on as long as it did. The fault of which lay with the leadership of both sides, with neither government willing to give in at the risk of losing their power.
They'd lost it anyway, which had been a moment of karmic retribution most members of both sides were happy with. Even if they would never admit it to each other.
Finley, Russo, and Littlefoot kept staring at him and Evan cracked. He'd withstood hours of torture during the war when he'd been captured by the Republic, but he was never very good at saying no to the people he loved.
"Fine. I was trying to ask someone out."
Finley laughed, a deep bright thing that they hadn't heard nearly enough these last few years. "You were trying to ask someone out and started a fight?"
"He was a Republican." They both winced and Evan rolled his eyes. "We're all on the same side now."
"Yeah, but not everyone is handling that as well as you." Russo leaned back against the wall of the universe's slowest elevator.
"Apparently not." Evan sulked and whined. "And he was so pretty. You guys don't understand."
"Ah yes, the plight of the ridiculously attractive." Finley patted him on the shoulder. "Maybe wait until everyone settles in before looking for love."
"I'm not looking for love!" That was a lie. Evan was always looking for love. Something to do with no getting any from his family according to his last therapist. "Besides, none of us have time for that."
Russo smirked. "That's true. Now say it like you believe it."
This was the downside of still be friends with people who'd known you as a child. Finley and Russo knew exactly why Evan was so desperate for affection and family, but they also knew him well enough to be honest when he was being too desperate.
Finley threw an arm over his shoulders and pulled him into a hug and Littlefoot leaned against his legs, reaching up to lick his fingers. "Come on. We've got a new challenge ahead and plenty of work to do."
"Besides, it's better to wait until everyone's getting along better. You don't want someone who just wants to say they fucked a Federal." Russo pitched in, but he'd never been very romantic or fantastical.
Evan and Finley stared at him and Finley muttered. "Stop helping." As Evan's eyes got watery again. "Look, you always have us." Finley grinned, although hers always looked more like a smirk because of the tilt of her mouth. "We've been together since we were kids, we survived the war together. We'll survive this and we'll all grow old together. There's no room for anyone else."
Which wasn't true, because Finley wanted a marriage as much as Evan did. Russo refused to ever bind himself to someone like that, but his bed was occupied far more often than either of theirs.
The elevator slammed to stop, making Littlefoot yelp in surprise and Evan, Finley, and Russo stumbled into one another, getting tangled up as they all tried to pull each other up.
Naturally, that's when the doors opened, and they came face to face with their crew.
"Oh, for fucks sake." Finley muttered.
The crew was in formation. Lined up by department and rank. They were still in civilians, because the new uniforms hadn't been agreed on until two months ago and had to be rush ordered. They were waiting in the individual quarters along new records and the applicable awards. Most of the crew members had been given a two-week window to drop off the belongings they wanted to take with them, so it could be staged and loaded as soon as the ship arrived instead of adding to the chaos of D-Day.
There'd always been semi-strict packing lists for crews of Mercy-Class ships, due to the armament on board. Finley was generally less strict in that regard, but she gave fewer chances to those who made mistakes. Adult rules, she always said. Act like an adult and you get more freedom. Act like a child and say goodbye.
She'd never been known for her patience.
She was known for plenty of other things, though.
"Oh my god, is that Fintan?"
~ tbc