From: mgoto@indiana.edu (Masako Goto) Date: Mon, 10 Mar 1997 22:14:44 -0500 (EST) Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: Breaking Bread with Brennan
SD 90311.0300
--------------
Officer's Mess
--------------
MD 1.2130
Anne sized up the XO carefully. He was a friendly enough man,
and she was quite sure that she could start asking him *some* questions
without causing too many problems... though she'd been successful in
two cases already without even trying.
"Sir," she said now, gingerly putting aside some oddly-colored
bits of what passed as meat in her soup, "what do you think is the
primary duty of a Starfleet officer?"
As she waited for the Commander's answer, Anne noted that
Ensign Keyrin was doing her best to cover up a giggle. The CSO
apparently remembered that first question without too much negative
emotions attached to it....
He cocked his head in thought. "To his crew, certainly. To
ensure the safety and well-being of his fellow crew."
"What about the ship? Or the commanding officer?"
"Take care of the crew, and the rest will come, willy-nilly. A
first-line ship is nothing without a well-trained crew. And crew would
naturally include those above and below oneself in the chain of
command."
Anne thought about that. A well-trained crew... she could
hardly call her department well-trained; there was that incident in the
Physical Sciences lab, the Comp Sci division running turbolift
diagnostics without clearance, and the Math and Logic division moving
into the wrong place... Ohhh, she was far from fulfilling her duty.
The last thought, oddly enough, cheered her considerably. Now
she could ask the next question, the one she had wanted to ask someone
in command for a long time.
"Where do you draw the line between responsibility and
meddling?"
He leaned into her, his expression in a slightly puzzled frown.
"Would you care to explain the question?"
"Fulfilling a responsibility often entails working with others.
This may involve solving a problem others may have, but it may not be a
problem in which one should be involved."
"Ah," he nodded. "I understand." He looked at the bit of soup
in his spoon, then put the spoon back into the bowl. "Personal matters
should be personal. If the person in question is affected by this
during his or her shift, I certainly would recommend some time with the
counselor. Of course, if the problem involved breach of security or
malicious intent, I would order that person to counseling."
"You don't consider that meddling?"
"If I had tried to counsel the person myself, not only would I
be practicing without the proper qualifications, I would change
drastically the working relationship we had. That would be meddling,
and is detrimental to morale, and would cause even larger problems."
Anne nodded thoughtfully. She was starting to see that Jon
Dameon had had his own reasons for pretending not to notice what was
going on with her and the Ship's Counselor; after all, she *had* been
competent in her duties. She suppressed a sigh, realizing that she
might not be able to "protect" her staff as much as she'd wanted to.
"What do you think is the basic duties of the commanding
officers?" she asked now, her curiosity piqued. Commander Brennan
looked quite at ease. She had never before met a human so unfazed by
her question series.
"To consider problems that affect the ship and crew, and make
the best possible decision, based on all available information and
advice from those he or she commands. To represent the unit to other
Federation vessels, and to represent the Federation to non-Federation
institutions."
Well... Anne murmured something pleasant, even as she saw
a mental door open to reveal the mysteries of command. Perhaps she had
been right not to take those courses after all; being a command
officer, it seemed, consisted of a lot of responsibility. She began to
feel a great admiration and greater appreciation for her commanding
officers.
Picking up her spoon, she went in for the practical
application.
"If you had to choose between an unstable officer with superb
abilities and a stable officer with mediocre abilities, which would you
have on your ship, and why?" *Not that this has anything to do with
real life, of course,* she added to herself rather sarcastically.
"I think my decision would depend on the circumstances."
Seeing Murray's inquisitive look, he elaborated. "In a heavily
supervised situation, the officer of your first example may well
flourish, and the ship would benefit from his or her abilities at
the task."
He put a spoonful of soup in his mouth, then swallowed.
Briefly putting his napkin to his mouth, he continued.
"In a battle situation, however, an unstable officer, no matter
his or her talents, does not belong on the bridge. The CO needs crew
who can keep their cool under fire, as well as the ability to respond
to split second decisions. And much of what goes on in those
high-pressure situations is dependent on how steady the officers are,
rather than their raw abilities."
"I see." Anne was quiet for a moment, using her soup as an
excuse to think. For a wild moment, she was tempted to ask the XO if
his views reflected those of many officers; but she decided against it.
She was assessing *his* views, not trying to make sense of her life.
Life... ah, *there* was a good question!
"What is your ultimate goal in life?" she asked.
"Hmm... waxing philosophical, are we, Lieutenant?"
"You might say that..." said Anne, trying to figure out how to
skirt around the question without actually lying. "...but then again,
perhaps not. It... it is rather like knowing how you like to run
things on the Bridge, for example."
The Commander seemed satisfied with that explanation (excuse,
Anne told herself silently).
"My ultimate goal in life.... Well, actually, I suppose that's
not too hard. To be happy. I think that is my ultimate goal."
"That is very... non-specific."
"You asked a very non-specific question, Lieutenant." His tone
was friendly. "To reach that ultimate goal, I believe that I must
pursue other, smaller goals. Such as, to cherish my family. To
develop a better understanding of myself and those around me. To
become a better self. To serve my crew, my ship, and the Fleet.
And to protect the reality and ideal of the Federation." He paused.
"I believe these are lofty goals in themselves. But working at them
will help me reach my ultimate goal."
"To be happy."
"Yes." He nodded slowly, his eyes unfocused... or perhaps it
was focused on some distant something. "To be happy."
He suddenly looked down in his soup. Murray turned just in
time to see the Counselor looking down in her soup, as well.
Anne closed her eyes for a moment, confused and angry with
herself. She wondered briefly why the two officers had decided to take
the same moment to examine their not-so-interesting soup. She shook
her head slightly, filing away the information -- as she filed
*everything* -- in her mind for later reflection. She would not
mention it now; that would be meddling.
Moreover, Anne was aghast at the special... *talent* she seemed
to have for finding the right question to make people uncomfortable.
Perhaps her years with Kevin Mallory ("that psychopathic sadist!" she
thought to herself) had rubbed off on her.
Trying to find a logical link to her next question, Anne was
unable to find anything but another potentially touchy question.
"If you had to live your life over again, would you join
Starfleet, and why?"
"I would."
"You seem very sure of that answer, Commander."
Anne relaxed somewhat. *This* was a response she could
definitely deal with... and catalogue easily, too, for that matter.
"Starfleet still offers the most opportunities for those
interested in front-line diplomacy, as well as first-contact, emergency
and rescue operations... all the things that Starfleet believes in, I
happen to believe in, as well. The Fleet has gone through some rough
times, and not everything in it is perfect -- what is? -- but overall,
it has been good to me. And I hope I have been good to it."
"From what I understand, sir," said Anne, her tone one of
real respect, "you most certainly have been good to it."
He laughed. "It's nice to know someone thinks so." Her
expression sobered him somewhat. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. You must
have read my jacket."
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
"I did what was required at the time. I imagine any other
officer would've done the same." He smiled again. "Thank you, though,
for your thought. That is reassuring." He paused for a moment, had
another spoonful of soup, then smiled pleasantly at her.
"So, Lieutenant... what is *your* ultimate goal in life?"
It took Anne a second to realize that her oft-asked question
was now directed at her. She absently stirred her soup, considering
her options.
"I... I suppose," she said, trying not to think of the scoring
sheets in her booklets, "that my goal would be... to make a difference
in someone's life." She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "To
feel -- no, *know* -- that I made someone's life more pleasant, more
productive... to help those who couldn't help themselves..." She
shrugged. It was *hard*, she realized, to answer such questions
unprepared. She had a new respect for those she had accosted with it
over the years. "I suppose that would be my goal," she concluded,
busily sorting out the contents of her soup into things she could
identify and things she couldn't.
As she carefully deposited the unidentified ingredients
on her napkin (making sure that no one was observing her breach
of manners first), Anne decided that she had better be careful
around Commander Brennan.
He just might turn out to be a pretty mean closet
psychometrician himself.
Respectfully submitted,
Masako Goto Takako Nagumo
Lt. Murray Cmdr. Brennan
CSciO XO
USS CHESAPEAKE NCC-31813 USS CHESAPEAKE NCC-31813
Go to messages for March 1997 or Main Archive Page