Subject:
"USS Grail: They Were Expendable"-`Epics Expectations'<<Captains Ready Room>>
Epic stared at Lt. Cara Hatcher for a long moment. He considered her initial entrance and her current attitude. When she had entered, she was locked up emotionally. Tight as a drum. But, within seconds, she had released her repressed feelings. The wave hit Epic like a hot wind.
He only considered the `why' of it for a few moments. She had probably decided that he was not Betazoid. It would not have been the first time his uncharacteristic eye color had deceived someone. Blue eyes were almost unheard of among his people. `But, then...', he mused for a second, `...so is surviving a point blank lightning strike.'
He mentally shrugged, and then spoke to her.
"Lieutenant. I consider the Tactical post to be one of the most crucial functions on a starship. A decade ago, when the Federation had managed to quantify all it's known enemies, and maintain a reasonable level of security against them, the department was little more than an extension of the Security department.
"But, things are different now." Epic stood and moved to the port windows, his arms hanging loosely at his sides.
"Now, we have enemies all around, and all encroaching on the Alpha Quadrant. It seems that the end of the Federation is top-priority on a lot of hostile lists. Now, the responsibilities of the Tactical department have expanded to much more than the ability to lock on a target and fire phasers and torpedo salvos.
"Now, a Tactical officer needs to be aware of their enemies motives, abilities, Hades!, even their cultural perspectives. A Tactical officer needs to be a sage to whom the Captain can turn to for insights into an enemy that might usually be expected of the Ships Counselor."
Epic turned to Hatcher and his look took on a more oppositional expression.
"Lieutenant. You have a history of violent outbursts and physical aggression. You are skilled in many forms of martial arts. You are a skilled soldier. But I don't need a killer. I need a leader. I need a sage.
"My expectations of you are very high because I trust the instincts of Admiral Hatcher. I also have a sympathetic perspective on the responsibilities you are assuming. Because of that, you can expect my full support and cooperation."
Then, he moved to stand before her. His eyes had darkened somewhat, but still blue.
"But, I will not excuse any emotional reactions that do not benefit this ship."
Hatcher could only look at him. He seemed angry, but his anger seemed almost... fatherly.
"We are going to be on familiar turf for a very short while. When we enter the Delta Quadrant, we are stepping into unknown territories. I want you to become familiar with the Security Department and all it's personnel. Because, as we engage new cultures, you, or a member of your department; but I will regularly assign you; will accompany all away
missions. I will be looking for YOUR perceptions of these cultures.
"You will be my sage, Lt. Hatcher. And my expectations are very high."
Then, he returned to his seat.
"Unless you have any questions.....
"Dismissed."