Órlaith surveyed her guest quarters aboard Starbase 75 on last time looking for any forgotten personal items.  All was as it should be.  The cleaning crews would make the bed, and replenish the towels for the next visitor to the station. She adjusted the strap on her duffle bag and walked out letting the doors slide shut one last time. 

The departure gates were a hum of excitement as people of all shapes and sizes rushed to catch their transports.  Órlaith had made her way to the terminal an hour early. With time to spare she had purchased a coffee and a pastry from a vendor and was enjoying it when a familiar face approached with captain”s pips.

“Com… Captain Torin how are you?” She greeted her former first officer. 

“I am well. Please,  call me Kevan.”

Órlaith smirked, “Okay Kevan how are you?”

The Trill smiled, “I am well Captain.”

“Hey, if I get to call you Kevan you get to call me Órlaith.”

Torin thought about it for a moment, “I don’t know. That just feels really weird.”

She laughed at that, “like me calling you captain?”

“I expect so,” Torin replied. “So when does your transport leave?”

“Soon enough,” Órlaith said just before taking a bite of her bearclaw.  “They’ll announce it when it’s ready to board.”

She found a small table with chairs on either side and sat down, “Can I get you a coffee?”

“I’m good. Thank you,” Torin replied as he sat down across from her.  “So this us it.  The band’s broken up. Hayden and Shrin left yesterday.”

“I can’t believe Starfleet won’t promote Erin,” Órlaith observed.  “By all rights she should have been at least my XO. No offense.”

“None taken, and I agree. I thought about seeing if I could get her on the Terror with me, but I already have an XO and I can’t imagine what that would do to crew morale to just do that.”

“Yeah, I think you made the right call,” she said finishing up her bearclaw. “Before you start shaking things up get to know your new command first. You have to make it your own, but it’s not an overnight process. Doing it too quickly your crew will resent you.”

Torin nodded in understanding. 

“Now boarding at Gate A25 for S.S. Mariposa bound for Earth.   Please proceed to the airlock and have your boarding pass ready for inspection,” the station’s announcement system echoed along the corridors. 

Órlaith sighed, “That’s me.”  She stood and Torin stood with her.

“Let me walk you to the airlock,” Torin offered.

They weren’t far from 25A, and they did not speak the entire way.  In the time they served together a friendship had developed,  and this felt like a finality.  Friendships over light-years were difficult to maintain. 

They paused at the airlock, and the already awkward silence started to feel oppressive.  Órlaith finnaly extended a hand,  “It’s been a pleasure Kevan. See you out there Captain.”

Torin smirked and wrapped his arms around her in a hug, “The pleasure was all mine.”

A week later…

The Launching Pad,  had been a watering hole for Starfleet officers and cadets for decades.  A group of officers sat in the corner of the bar at a circular table sharing drinks and stories.   

A Captain looked at Órlaith over his beer, “We need to get you a callsign.  All pilots have them.”

Órlaith shook her head, “I already have one. They gave me Blondie back when I was a student here.”

The captain smirked,  “You’re not a student nor an ensign anymore.  Blondie doesn’t suit you anymore. Let’s see… your first starship command ended in a disaster. The Crazy Horse went down in flames. Kind of like your career trajectory.”

“Don’t remind me,” Órlaith replied dryly staring into her iced tea.

“There’s only one name for you Captain,” he said with a malicious,  but good natured smile, “Hindenburg.”

Órlaith groaned knowing that was definitely going to stick and would be a constant reminder.