09-13-2024, 03:22 PM
The wry smile Mara shot her upon her entry eased some of the tension from Tyra's shoulders, her own lips curving into a matching smile as she stepped into the office. It seemed Starfleet's design team hadnt strayed far in the last fifteen years as the office easily could have been her own from the Gettysburg or Nova.
“Ah. That time. I was wonderin’ when retribution was gonna catch up to me, and whether it was gonna be you or Givens,” Calleja said with a good-natured grin, swinging her boots off the desk and gesturing to the visitor chairs. “You’re lookin’ much more like you today, I gotta say. Please, sit. Mi casa su casa and all that.”
"Oddly enough, I like to swing my own execution axe when the opportunity presents itself," she replied wryly with a grin of her own as she took the offered seat and settled in.
“Look, I’ll save you the pain of havin’ to take me to task,” Mara began, causing Tyra's eyebrow to arch ever so slightly as the Chief of Security laid out a mea culpa that was both honest and concise. Either she had paid close attention to the counselor or Tyra's previous lectures hadn't fallen on deaf ears after all.
All the same, Tyra let her speak, hiding a slightly amused smile behind her coffee cup as the Chief laid out many of the redhead's own thoughts and echoed some things that had been pointed out the night before. Mara's words seemed to mingle with whisps of memory for a moment.
"I don't suppose you would appreciate it if I pointed out that sounds like the sort of headstrong opinion a young security chief I knew might have held?"
Tyra had chuckled dryly. "Yes, well, I wouldn't have voiced that opinion in the middle of the briefing. I would have just worn a trail in the ready room carpet afterwards..."
Her husband's smile was clearly amused and maybe a tad indulgent, his eyebrows waggling just a little as if he didn't believe that to be necessarily the truth. "Oh, I don't know. Everyone has a limit to what they'll tolerate and I have definitely witnessed yours... And not always discreetly."
She hummed slightly as she picked up her cup of tea and sipped from it, having given up on coffee at this ungodly hour. "That's the exception for me, not the rule. If she doesn't watch out, her exception will be managing to get through a briefly without exploding."
Now, he nodded with a chuckle before his blue eyes, the slightest twinkle still present, latched onto hers like a searchlight. "Just remember, not everyone bleeds that uniform. You were practically born wearing it with all of the expectations and rules that come with it. The rest of us have a learning curve, some steeper than others."
"Everest, Thomas. Hers is freaking Mount Everest," she reminded her husband and not for the first time, she suspected he enjoyed watching her struggle through personnel issues. Better her than him, she was certain he believed.
She hadn't completely lost the thread of Mara's words, having caught a promise to apologize to Givens and then, an apology directed her own way before the younger woman began to try to explain why it had happened. From anyone else, it might have come off as excuses but the self-deprecating and pointed way Mara delivered her words made it seem more like needed context.
"--Then, bam, you were gone, and it threw me for a loop. And then you were back. It felt like… No, it still feels like, we’re bein’ played with. And I know I don’t have any right to be that angry about somethin’ that wasn’t even happenin’ to me. But that’s not how it works in my warped excuse of a brain. If someone is comin’ for a crewmate or a friend, they’re comin’ for me.”
“There was a lot to deal with in that briefin’ and I didn’t deal with it well. Honestly, I don’t regret speakin’ out. What happened to you was shockin’ and it still bugs me a little that nobody else sat around that table felt strongly enough to stick their head up and say so. But there’s a middle ground between bein’ silent and gobbin’ off. I will find it. I will do better next time.”
"Just because they didn't say anything doesn't mean they didn't feel strongly about what happened. The difference is they allowed themselves the time to digest and assess a complicated situation before reacting," Tyra corrected with a gentleness that likely didn't fit with the nature of her visit.
"Think of this like a tactical situation: there are times, as a security officer, where you have to act immediately and rely on your instincts to get you through without a full assessment and there are times where you have the time and capability to assess and weigh all the options. You chose the former in a situation where the urgency wasn't there, not for the first time either. And if you did that in a controlled environment like a briefing, I feel quite confident in saying eventually your emotions, or more accurately, your inability to control them, will lead you to do the same thing in a situation that will not be as forgiving."
Tyra paused, lifting her cup to her lips as she watched Mara for a moment. Her body language clearly stated she wasn't done, even if it still seemed relaxed by her standards.
"For the record, I don't regret giving you that jacket but you're narrowing your margin for error before we're even out of space dock. Change is part of wearing this uniform and you need to learn to roll with the punches or get your world rocked regularly. As a partially reformed hot head myself, I'm not asking for the sage calmness of a damn Vulcan. I'm asking that you learn when and where to unleash it and when to just let it simmer until it can be addressed somewhere else."
Tyra could admit Thomas was right though. Despite her fiery temper and sharp tongue, she'd known before ever putting the uniform on officially how to wield it and how not to. She was what most considered a legacy officer, one born to bleed for the Fleet and indoctrinated into its customs well before she entered the Academy. In fact, she could only think of one time she'd erupted during a briefing and the situation had been such to grant her excellent company in her dissent.
"Because all you're doing with these meeting stunts is making your fellow officers doubt whether they can trust you to remain calm under pressure. I believe you can but that's a hard sell when I can't even get you through a briefing without a spiral."
"And Captain Givens isn't wrong; I'm expending most of my capitol on my own survival and likely Coleman's now... I can't save you if you massively **** this up," Tyra added, the admission seemingly a painful one based on the slight grimace she masked with another sip of coffee.
"So find a way to make it through a meeting without fighting someone. You've already tried with myself, and now, both Givens and Coleman in the same meeting. I'm a little worried you'll be fighting a flag officer in our next briefing."
== Tag! ==
== Tag! ==
“Ah. That time. I was wonderin’ when retribution was gonna catch up to me, and whether it was gonna be you or Givens,” Calleja said with a good-natured grin, swinging her boots off the desk and gesturing to the visitor chairs. “You’re lookin’ much more like you today, I gotta say. Please, sit. Mi casa su casa and all that.”
"Oddly enough, I like to swing my own execution axe when the opportunity presents itself," she replied wryly with a grin of her own as she took the offered seat and settled in.
“Look, I’ll save you the pain of havin’ to take me to task,” Mara began, causing Tyra's eyebrow to arch ever so slightly as the Chief of Security laid out a mea culpa that was both honest and concise. Either she had paid close attention to the counselor or Tyra's previous lectures hadn't fallen on deaf ears after all.
All the same, Tyra let her speak, hiding a slightly amused smile behind her coffee cup as the Chief laid out many of the redhead's own thoughts and echoed some things that had been pointed out the night before. Mara's words seemed to mingle with whisps of memory for a moment.
"I don't suppose you would appreciate it if I pointed out that sounds like the sort of headstrong opinion a young security chief I knew might have held?"
Tyra had chuckled dryly. "Yes, well, I wouldn't have voiced that opinion in the middle of the briefing. I would have just worn a trail in the ready room carpet afterwards..."
Her husband's smile was clearly amused and maybe a tad indulgent, his eyebrows waggling just a little as if he didn't believe that to be necessarily the truth. "Oh, I don't know. Everyone has a limit to what they'll tolerate and I have definitely witnessed yours... And not always discreetly."
She hummed slightly as she picked up her cup of tea and sipped from it, having given up on coffee at this ungodly hour. "That's the exception for me, not the rule. If she doesn't watch out, her exception will be managing to get through a briefly without exploding."
Now, he nodded with a chuckle before his blue eyes, the slightest twinkle still present, latched onto hers like a searchlight. "Just remember, not everyone bleeds that uniform. You were practically born wearing it with all of the expectations and rules that come with it. The rest of us have a learning curve, some steeper than others."
"Everest, Thomas. Hers is freaking Mount Everest," she reminded her husband and not for the first time, she suspected he enjoyed watching her struggle through personnel issues. Better her than him, she was certain he believed.
She hadn't completely lost the thread of Mara's words, having caught a promise to apologize to Givens and then, an apology directed her own way before the younger woman began to try to explain why it had happened. From anyone else, it might have come off as excuses but the self-deprecating and pointed way Mara delivered her words made it seem more like needed context.
"--Then, bam, you were gone, and it threw me for a loop. And then you were back. It felt like… No, it still feels like, we’re bein’ played with. And I know I don’t have any right to be that angry about somethin’ that wasn’t even happenin’ to me. But that’s not how it works in my warped excuse of a brain. If someone is comin’ for a crewmate or a friend, they’re comin’ for me.”
“There was a lot to deal with in that briefin’ and I didn’t deal with it well. Honestly, I don’t regret speakin’ out. What happened to you was shockin’ and it still bugs me a little that nobody else sat around that table felt strongly enough to stick their head up and say so. But there’s a middle ground between bein’ silent and gobbin’ off. I will find it. I will do better next time.”
"Just because they didn't say anything doesn't mean they didn't feel strongly about what happened. The difference is they allowed themselves the time to digest and assess a complicated situation before reacting," Tyra corrected with a gentleness that likely didn't fit with the nature of her visit.
"Think of this like a tactical situation: there are times, as a security officer, where you have to act immediately and rely on your instincts to get you through without a full assessment and there are times where you have the time and capability to assess and weigh all the options. You chose the former in a situation where the urgency wasn't there, not for the first time either. And if you did that in a controlled environment like a briefing, I feel quite confident in saying eventually your emotions, or more accurately, your inability to control them, will lead you to do the same thing in a situation that will not be as forgiving."
Tyra paused, lifting her cup to her lips as she watched Mara for a moment. Her body language clearly stated she wasn't done, even if it still seemed relaxed by her standards.
"For the record, I don't regret giving you that jacket but you're narrowing your margin for error before we're even out of space dock. Change is part of wearing this uniform and you need to learn to roll with the punches or get your world rocked regularly. As a partially reformed hot head myself, I'm not asking for the sage calmness of a damn Vulcan. I'm asking that you learn when and where to unleash it and when to just let it simmer until it can be addressed somewhere else."
Tyra could admit Thomas was right though. Despite her fiery temper and sharp tongue, she'd known before ever putting the uniform on officially how to wield it and how not to. She was what most considered a legacy officer, one born to bleed for the Fleet and indoctrinated into its customs well before she entered the Academy. In fact, she could only think of one time she'd erupted during a briefing and the situation had been such to grant her excellent company in her dissent.
"Because all you're doing with these meeting stunts is making your fellow officers doubt whether they can trust you to remain calm under pressure. I believe you can but that's a hard sell when I can't even get you through a briefing without a spiral."
"And Captain Givens isn't wrong; I'm expending most of my capitol on my own survival and likely Coleman's now... I can't save you if you massively **** this up," Tyra added, the admission seemingly a painful one based on the slight grimace she masked with another sip of coffee.
"So find a way to make it through a meeting without fighting someone. You've already tried with myself, and now, both Givens and Coleman in the same meeting. I'm a little worried you'll be fighting a flag officer in our next briefing."
== Tag! ==
== Tag! ==