Take Three

Posted on Sat Mar 12th, 2011 @ 3:24am by Lieutenant Cedric Shepherd

1,051 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Triad
Location: USS Ranger, Deck 9, Security Office
Timeline: Immediately after take Two

Michaels left, the door whispering closed behind her. Fletcher didn't immediately move, but followed quickly to his feet when Shepherd stood and reached across the desk for the Commander's empty juice glass.

"What do you think?" Shepherd asked.

"Sir?" Fletcher was puzzled.

"What do you think, Mister Fletcher?" The big man reiterated. "As in, what's your take on Doctor Mar and Commander Michaels? And sit down."

Fletcher hesitated, then sat and thought a moment. "Doctor Mar's a bloody nightmare. You have my report," he nodded at the PADD sitting on the desk, "but I can't do justice to the woman's attitude on the bridge. Disgraceful."

"What can you do about it in the future?"

"Sir?" Fletcher frowned. "Nothing without an order."

"If I give you a piece of advice, will you listen to it?" Shepherd asked.

"Of course, sir," Fletcher was incredulous.

Shepherd waved the attitude off as he deposited the juice glass in the replicator for recycling. "I mean it. As a function of rank, you're obligated to sit there for as long as I want to talk. I want to know if you'll actually listen."

Fletcher seemed to find that odd, but only thought on it a moment. "I'm listening, sir."

"Any time you feel like there's a situation brewing when you're at the bridge station, call for backup. Just buzz the office, or the brig--you know somebody's always on duty down here," he circled a finger in the air, indicating deck 9 at large. "Even if there'd been an order to clear Mar off the bridge, you couldn't leave your station to do it. You'd have had to call it down here, and Mar would have had even more time to vomit her opinion on everyone in range. Get someone ready, because when an order like that comes it has to get dealt with fast. Got it?"

"I do, sir," Fletcher nodded, then frowned again. "If--" he thought a moment for the words, "Should I bring up backup prematurely, or erroneously, then what?"

"What do you do with the extra man?" Shepherd prompted for clarity, gathering his own glass and recycling it. "You wave him over to the station and quietly tell him nevermind. This is something I'll lay out at the next meeting. We'll get word around so everyone understands, and understands that there'll be false alarms from time to time. But better safe than sorry."

"Indeed, sir."

Shepherd looked sideways at Fletcher as he stepped back to his seat. "That was too easy. Anything else strike you regarding Mar?"

The younger man thought carefully again before speaking. "I wonder why you didn't read her the riot act. Lord knows I bloody well would have."

"Do you believe I was less effective for not yelling?" Shepherd asked mildly, settling back in his chair.

Fletcher idly scratched the bridge of his nose while he thought. "Not necessarily. I'm not sure. But someone needs to put Doctor Mar in her place."

"What place is that?"

"She's a civilian on a Starfleet vessel," Fletcher said, as though that explained most everything. "There are rules, and she doesn't get to change them to suit her whim."

"True," Shepherd nodded. "And didn't I reinforce that?"

"You did," Fletcher nodded back. "I would simply have used more force, I think."

"But doing that would have let Mar make the rules," Shepherd smiled.

"Sir?"

"Doctor Mar likes to yell," Shepherd explained. "She gets very emotional, and people like that need boundaries. She needed to be shown that I wasn't going to lose control along with her--something I give Captain Halliwell all the credit in the world for realizing. I can't allow myself to be rattled by Mar. If I do that, I lose. It puts me in her court, where she always wins because she shouts until others surrender. And it was imperative in that exchange that I win. I hope," he shrugged, "that she'll realize that she can't shake me, and that I was speaking rationally and clearly, and therefore meant every word. No hyperbole. No rhetorical flourish. No over-the-top shouting I'll have to recant later. I told her the plain truth, and hopefully she'll figure that out after she's thought for a while, and will mind herself in the future. Otherwise she'll figure it out in the brig."

Fletcher thought carefully for a time, then nodded. "I see, sir."

Content to let that subject end, Shepherd picked up Michaels' written statement. "So what's your thought on Commander Michaels?"

Fletcher looked uncomfortable. Shepherd waited.

"She's too familiar, sir. Too casual," Fletcher said at last. Shepherd laughed out loud, and Fletcher pressed his point. "She's part of the command staff. She's the ship's second bloody officer! We don't get to call her T'mpest."

"No," Shepherd corrected, still smiling. "You don't get to call her T'mpest. Apparently I do."

"It just feels too soft."

"Maybe it is," Shepherd shrugged. "But not in this meeting. It's an interesting juxtaposition, if you think about it."

"Sir?"

"I needed Doctor Mar to hit me like a wall, and realize she wasn't getting past me, so I didn't let her dictate any of the terms of our conversation. By contrast, I needed Commander Michaels to be as open and honest as possible in order to get as accurate a statement as possible. If I'd insisted on Sir-ing her, or worse, Ma'am-ing her, she'd have had two choices: tell me again to stop, or try and ignore it. Either choice makes her uncomfortable, which in turn makes her edgy and defensive. That would have shown through in this," he waved the paper gently, "and that kind of defensive statement-writing looks suspicious."

Fletcher thought once again for a time. "It makes sense. But I simply cannot call her T'mpest."

"Then don't," Shepherd chuckled. "There's nothing inherently wrong with calling her Sir. She's a superior officer. If for some reason you find yourself in a private conversation with her and she asks you to call her T'mpest, I can't imagine she'd judge you harshly if you told her honestly that it would make you uncomfortable to be that casual."

"Indeed. Thank you, sir."

Shepherd keyed on his desk terminal. "You're welcome. Now stay there for a minute or two longer so you can witness me transcribing this statement into the record."

 

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