Commander Astrid ‘Squidge’ Gray tapped her foot on the floor impatiently, the weight of her duffel over her shoulder all through her left leg making her sixty-year-old knee ache. But it was worth it. She was playing the role of impatient command-officer and she played it well, enjoying every moment. The chief on the transporter looked worried under her glare.

“What’s taking so long?” She frowned.

“Sorry ma’am. Waiting for the go-ahead from Hathaway.”

Squidge sighed and rolled her eyes. The chief tapped at his panel furiously. “Okay,” he said after a moment, “please step onto the pad.”

“Finally!” Squidge moved up the two stairs and stood on one of the circles. “I’m just messing with you Chief, you’re doing great.” She shot him a winning smile. The chief decompressed.

“Thanks ma’am. Have a good voyage.” 

“Yeah, you too.” 

You too. You too? He’s on a station, where the hell is he gonna go, Astrid you clown.

A few moments later the transporter room of DS17 was replaced by that of the Hathaway. Squidge gave the transporter Chief on her new ship a “thanks” and wondered through the closest door and found the nearest computer panel.

“Computer, are there quarters assigned for Astrid Gray?” She asked it.

“Affirmative.”

“Where?”

“Please follow the lines indicated.”

“Like a five year old. Right. Fine! Let’s go.” Squidge followed along nodding and throwing the occasional “hi” at any crew member who “ma’am”’d her as she went. She marvelled at the new-fangled Turbolifts and made a mental note of the deck they arrived upon. The lines finally finished at some doors which obligingly swooshed open and Squidge deposited her bag unceremoniously on the floor, just out of the way of the door so she wouldn’t trip over it when she got back. Nearly forty years in Starfleet had taught her that and other important lessons. She retraced her steps back to the turbo lift with a couple of ‘hey’s and ‘hi’s to the “ma’am”ers.

“Bridge.”

A short ride later and she was greeted with the ship’s bridge and what a bridge it was. Squidge had been serving most recently on a Luna class, a design now something like thirty years old. This was something else. She peered through the myriad of bright and coloured lights at the selection of doors.

“Which one’s the ready room?” She said loudly, not caring if she interrupted someone.

“There is no ready room here, ma’am.” One of the officers nearby pointed to the large door at the back of the room. “The Captain uses the observation lounge instead.”

No ready room, huh? Hmm.

“Thanks.” Squidge made her way over, adjusted her jacket, ran a hand through her short, grey hair and entered the lounge.

As the figure emerged through the doorway, Captain Romaes looked up from his paperwork and smiled at the new face on his team. “Hello there,” he greeted the woman. She stood before him smartly.

Squidge had had some input into this posting. Of all the options available one of the benefits of Hathaway was that the Captain was not some spring chicken who would make her feel ancient. Romaes was heading for fifty and had a tonne of battle experience, as did she. He remembered the Dominion War, as she did. Squidge surmised he’d be as likely to respect her experience as any. Certainly he seemed on paper like someone she could respect and not feel pangs about calling someone fifteen years her junior ‘sir’. Could be worse, could be twenty-five years her junior like some hotshot Captains.

“Astrid Gray reporting, sir. May as well call me Squidge, everyone does.”

“Before I can possibly call you that,” Romaes returned to his seat at the head of the observation lounge and offered her a seat beside him, “you’ll have to explain more.” He adjusted his posture and relaxed into the chair. It was a relief for him to be presented with officers of experience, instead of those being churned out of the Academy at an alarming rate. It suggested that Command were taking Hathaway seriously. For now.

Squidge took the offered seat and relaxed visibly a little, although her poise never wavered. She’d been Starfleet too long. She rubbed her chin with thumb and forefinger and pouted a “Hmm.” 

“I’d be lying if I said I remembered exactly what year it was. Twenty-three eighty-one was a long time ago! Stardate five eight one something something if I had a phaser to my head. I was a Lieutenant back then, just out of four years at Starfleet Medical Counselling getting war Veterans back on their feet. There’s a whole pre-amble that all hazes and blurs into a hundred evenings in the bar of the Hutton, the ship I was on at the time. Nebula. Good ship. Long story short, one of the pups called me a head-shrinker. New officer, missed the war, had no need of combat P.T.S.D. treatment, dare say she thought she was funny. Apparently, I said in reply ‘I don’t shrink people’s heads, I just kinda squidge them slightly.’ That was that. I was Squidge to everyone. I don’t remember saying it. Still, it’s followed me since. Better than Astrid, at least it doesn’t start with ‘ass’. As for Gray, well…” Squidge gestured with an up-turned palm to her hair. “Too literal these days for my liking. I guess a funny name makes the prospect of seeing the Counsellor more palatable. So there we go.” She shrugged. “Squidge.”

“Squidge.” Romaes nodded in acknowledgement, then started tapping on the control panel on the table. “I’ve added you to the roster and given you access to all personnel files,” he advised the woman, “but I can assure you, we have a crew of youngsters needing help and support after the Frontier Day destruction.”

“They’ll always get it from me if they want it,” Squidge assured him, earnestly. “I’ll have appointments available starting in a few hours.” Squidge looked down at the conference table for a moment before speaking again. 

“I… hope I can be of help to you as well, Captain. Some situational psychology perhaps, profiling an adversary or analysing a dignitary, that sort of thing. You’ll find out I’m a pretty brutally honest person so I’ll just come out with it; this is probably my last tour and…  I’d like to see a bit of action. Some bridge time.” Squidge gave him one of her winning grins.

“Help an old lady out?”

The fingers on Romaes’ left hand drummed on the work surface as the Captain listened to the woman’s words. If he could accommodate her, he’d do his best. “There’s always a place for you on the bridge, Commander. And I’ll value your input as much as anyone else’s,” he nodded slowly. “If you want to log some command time, feel free to speak with the XO. He’s in charge of duty assignments,” he added.

“I’ll do that,” Squidge responded with a contented smile. It seemed his answer had been what she wanted to hear. Inside she heaved a sigh of relief. While working with the crew in one-to-one or in group was important she didn’t want it to be her entire life aboard-ship. “Appreciated. Unless there’s anything in particular you need from me, request permission to go get situated?”

“You’re dismissed, Counsellor. We’ll be departing at nineteen-thirty,” the Captain told her as he picked up a data PADD, “I’ll expect you on the bridge then.”

Squidge gave the Bajoran a quick nod and approving smile combo. “See you there,” she said as she stood and headed out of the room. Job one was check out the Counsellor’s office and get it sorted. She wanted to get appointment availability as soon as possible. Squidge headed back the way she had come, through the bridge and onto the turbolift. 

“Computer, location of Counsellor’s office?”

“The counsellor’s office is on d…”

“Take me there.”The Turbo lift hummed into action. Squidge considered everything she had experienced thus far. The Captain seemed amenable, which was good, yet he was also an interesting person just to look at. The stubble, the eyes that looked at you yet through you. Decades of experience told her she saw pain there, even after a short meeting. But her style wasn’t to coax anyone to talk. Privacy was a thing and an important thing. People who wanted help could come to her and those who let problems affect their performance would certainly be getting a visit. Everything else was just the pain of living and fighting and there was plenty of that to be had. The doors wooshed open and Squidge set off down the corridor checking out the signs by each door as she went.