It was just a folded piece of stationary. Paper wasn't as common as it once was, but it was still in use in the arts and the upper echelons of government and the military, who thought it offered a personal touch when dealing with their peers. It was ceremonial now. Printed books and manuals were collectables and cost a decent amount of credits even when new batches were printed. Even Finley had her own small collection.
General Abernathy's letterhead was printed across the top, titling him Supreme Commander of the United Nations of Earth Military Forces.
He'd only written two lines.
Cecelia,
Hope this note finds you well. Betchley will be taking a post on the Loss when it comes through, please look after him until then.
William
Finley snorted. Short and bold and shockingly obvious, but it still managed to be vague enough that Finley couldn't point at it and say he was behind the attempts on her life.
"Did you serve with Abernathy?"
"We've crossed paths on occasion, but we've never worked together directly." Winters turned contemplative. "I've never heard anything truly concerning about him."
Neither had Finley. Abernathy's reputation was annoyingly bland for someone who'd served as long as he had and that was probably a large part of how he'd gotten his current position. He was comfortably on the fence for most subjects and had never inspired more than bland recognition in anyone, which, while it meant there wasn't anyone championing him, there also wasn't anyone campaigning to bring him down.
He was the safest choice, which itself was generally not the safest choice even though it always seemed like it.
"Your reputation is much different." Winters continued, giving Finley an appraising look.
"Oh?" Of course it was. Finley always picked a side. She hadn't been neutral about anything a day in her life, and she didn't plan on it anytime in the future. She wasn't apologetic about it either.
"Obviously your battle statistics speak for themselves, but I read several of your papers from the Academy."
That was interesting. While the papers were critical parts of the Academy, especially for cadets in the Command program, very few people outside the Academy read them. Unless they came up during a competitive promotion, but that was usually only for ranks above ship's Captain. While Finley had been considered for promotion during the war, it hadn't come up since and it likely wouldn't until long after the Loss returned from its mission.
If Finley survived that long.
"You were a history major, weren't you?"
Finley nodded.
"You wrote an interesting analysis on the Mars Identity and the Famines on Earth."
"They were interesting subjects."
"You also wrote that Harrison Lane was a failure, not hero during the Collapse of the Exeter Station."
"He was."
"He's one of the most celebrated humans in history for his actions during that event."
Finley laughed. "Yeah, one of the most impressive examples of failing upwards to ever occur. Every single thing he did that day was the responsibility of someone else, but instead of letting them do it, he micromanaged and extended the crisis by two days."
"He saw issues others missed."
"Almost like he knew about them beforehand."
Winters frowned. "That's a heavy accusation."
"I said it word for word in my paper."
"And you were failed for that paper."
"Had to write a new one on the destruction of reputations in the media in modern times." Finley had written the entire three hundred pages in a week-long fit of anger.
"Which is considered one of your most prominent papers."
"Humankind loves irony." They also hadn't kicked the tendency to act like sheep when it came to fads and influential people talking out their ass about things they knew nothing about. Harrison Lane had been the General Custer of the twenty-sixth century. He'd died days after the Exeter Emergency from wounds he'd sustained during the collapse and hadn't been able to give any account of what had happened before he'd passed. His widow had written and filmed extensively about his life and his actions for the four decades she'd lived after him and like Libbie Custer, her efforts to bolster her husband's reputation had been extremely effective.
At least for a time.
The truth had eventually come out about Custer and instead of a fallen hero, he was now seen as an arrogant failure who gotten half his forces killed through a series of mistakes that could have been prevented if he'd listened to the people around him.
Harrison Lane's reputation was still going strong, as his wife had had more resources available than Custer's widow in the 1800s, but it wasn't anywhere near the worship it had been in the 26th, 27th, and 28th centuries.
Most of his longevity was attributed to the fact that he'd been a one hit wonder. The only thing he was known for was the Exeter Collapse, so there was only one thing to debate about him, while others who'd ended up famous for their actions in emergencies after him had had longer careers and other events that had given people much more to argue over.
Lane's wife had campaigned her way into powerful position in the government of the time and had managed to get laws passed memorializing her husband. Now no one cared enough to overturn them, so Harrison Lane stayed a hero and Finley remained one of his few detractors.
"You're a starship captain. You know the price of fame." Winters brushed an invisible piece of lint off her sleeve.
"Unfortunately." Her own government was trying to kill her and that was definitely due to her fame.
Starship captains had become modern idols when humankind had moved to space and started exploring and they had maintained a certain level of fame ever since. During the wars, it skyrocketed to insane levels when the governments published regular status reports of the conflict's progress, and the constant recording of every event was often released after as part of a misguided belief in openness and honesty with the public.
Finley wasn't sure who actually believed that.
~ tbc