In hindsight, there were definitely arguments against giving the entire crew two days of short leave in a place famous for its tourism. So many bars and so many people with credits to burn.
Mayhem was highly possible, and trouble was guaranteed, but the crew was on edge after the berth bombing and the introduction of Daniel and Betchley to the crew.
Their next stop was four days and a jump away, and Titan Station was a lot smaller and took a lot longer to get to than Walker Hospital.
Finley felt bad leaving anyone who decided they couldn't handle the mission stranded for the weeks it would take them to get off Titan.
She'd do it if she had to, but there was nothing stopping her from being kind and giving them all the choice now. Kindness was really only rewarding when you gave it for free and expected nothing back.
So, she'd had them lock down the ship and gather on the flight deck so she could give her third grand speech of the trip, which was already more than she'd had to give in the first five years of the war altogether.
Once Evan completed roll call, thankfully just the section heads confirming their personnel were present instead of a full name by name, he stepped back and Finley stepped forward from the Command Team, lined up in front of the formation.
"There's no point in pretending we're not all on edge. Things have taken place over the last few days that we all thought we'd never have to deal with again. Or hoped not to, at least. Believe it or not, this level of response to this mission was not expected. While the powers that be did expect some outcry, at no point did they expect the level of violence we've seen so far. It may not seem like much after what we've seen in the way, but let me remind you, the war is over. The bombing three days ago was an act of terrorism, and we are working to track down those responsible. They will be punished under the full force of the law. Honestly, probably more than they deserve, given how incompetent the attempt actually was, because they were the first to do it in what is legally a time of peace. Keep that in mind going forward." She paused to let it sink in, amused at the nervous shifting. "We're scheduled to leave in fifty-six hours, so for the next forty-eight, you're on leave." She paused to let the cheering subside. "The only requirement for the next forty-eight hours, besides enjoying yourselves, is to decide if you truly want to continue on this mission. You've all come this far. I'm not doubting your commitment, but I am asking you to consider honestly if you would like to continue. This mission is not going to be in terms of months; it's going to be in terms of years, and it could end up being far more dangerous than anything you faced in the war. So, take the next forty-eight hours to decide if this is really something you want to do. You won't be punished; you won't get a note in your file. There is nothing wrong with deciding this mission isn't for you, but there will be something wrong if you go into it unsure. You've all been in long enough to know what doubt can do to a crew. So, take the next two days to relax, to think, to have some fun, and decide what you want to do. And, in the words of every Senior NCO I've ever known, don't add to the population, don't subtract from the population, and for star's sake, if you wouldn't tell your grandmother about it, don't do it."
There's a small cheer at that, mostly from the former Federals, but a few reluctant Republicans join in.
"Forty-eight starts now, get out." She doesn't have to say it twice. They swarm the elevators, excited voices filling the berth. It's one of the slow months for tourism, which still hasn't recovered to pre-war levels, which means things will be cheap and their credits would go far. There are plenty of hotels with openings and last-minute spots in activities on the rings.
Finley wouldn't be opposed to spending an hour or two skating on one of the larger chunks of ice, but first, she's going to a spa. A few hours of sauna and massage were her favorite way to relax, and she wasn't about to put it off.
Per tradition and common sense, the Command Team waited until the rest of the crew was out the door before heading for the elevators themselves.
Evan was practically bouncing in place. "We should try the new burger place they opened at the Ice Palace. They're supposed to have the best Martian potato fries this side of Mars."
The thought of greasy, salt fries is enough to make Finley's stomach growl. "Fine. Food first, then the spa."
"The Ice Palace has a great spa." Brandi offers, scrolling through something on her tablet. "I spent a week there once. Swear to the stars, they scrubbed off so much dead skin I squeaked when I walked."
"That really just makes me worry about your hygiene," Betchley muttered and sniffed when Brandi flipped him off as they all clamored into the elevator.
"I'm meeting up with old friends," Ookami announces, testing the waters and glancing at Finley.
Martinez nods. "Me as well."
It wasn't uncommon for Captains to decide that Command Teams needed to stay together during short-term leaves. Forced bonding or whatever. Finley'd never been a fan of it. "Have at it. Anyone's welcome to join us if they'd like, but we'll do an official debrief once everyone's back on board."
The atmosphere in the elevator lightened after that announcement.
"The offer to withdraw was for everyone," Finley offered. "If any of you really don't want to continue, you're under no obligation to do so."
A few of them looked thoughtful, but for the most part, Finley had picked a Command Team that had clearly decided to make a career of the military and wouldn't be so quick to drop off the first major mission since the war ended.
Callahan didn't even pause to consider it. Instead, he turned to Evan. "Where does this place get its meat? Because I'm not eating Martian beef."
Most of the elevator's occupants winced at the idea of Martian beef. Mars had a booming agricultural economy, specifically around potatoes and wheat, but they'd failed spectacularly to enter the beef or poultry markets. While they produced mass amounts of both, the quality was so poor that it was usually purchased for feed or nutrition paste. The restaurants in a tourist area like those around Saturn would never buy meat from there, but Evan consulted his tablet anyway. "Oh, Earth. The Americas, specifically."
"Nice." Callahan leaned back against the wall and caught Finley's eye.
"Might as well go all out and get the biggest they have. I've never had a ship's mess that can do good a burger." Aiko sighed.
"It's weird, right?" Brandi laughed. "I've had a few that can do a killer steak, but never a good burger."
"Tacos." Callahan sighed sadly.
Finley grimaced. "Those are hit or miss."
"It's the lettuce," Daniel adds. "It goes bad so quickly."
"Not even supposed to put lettuce on tacos," Callahan whines.
Martinez rolled her eyes so hard that the rest of the elevator laughed. "Don't talk to me about tacos, gringo."
Callaham immediately straightened and looked her right in the eyes. "Taco."
"Please don't let the first inter-command fight be over food," Brandi muttered. "I made us a reservation for thirty minutes from now."
~ tbc