threats.
Claire backed against the bulkhead nervously searching for a protective audience. Claire didn't think Lieutenant Loyd would get grabby. He hadn't done anything like that yet. She backed a few steps just to be sure and tripped over an ankle-height junction box.
Lieutenant Loyd caught a flailing arm and pulled her upright, but then dropped her arm like it was arc welder-hot. He stepped away with his hands palm up.
“Ensign, that is so fucked up that I don't know where to start. This was supposed to be a counseling session where I told you that if you wanted this ‘good job' you needed to start doing it instead of playing GSN dress up.” He narrowed his eyes. “Obviously, I have no idea what's going on with my own officers. So, we're going to fix that.”
Claire crossed her arms and hugged herself, hunching her shoulders over. It hid her breasts a little, but not really enough. Claire tensed waiting to find out what her outburst was going to do to her this time.
The lieutenant ducked back into CIC and with a quick word sent some petty officers scurrying down the passageway.
Claire hovered half in and half out, wanting to be around more people but reluctant to leave him before learning what he intended to do to her.
Master Chief Wallens took the corner at a quick lope and then slowed to wander into CIC as if he just happening to be strolling by.
Claire followed him in, and Lieutenant Loyd directed her to take a chair.
The master chief sat down next to Claire with a bit of space between the chairs but angled towards Lieutenant Loyd and flipped out his own comp and appeared to completely absorb himself in some kind of paperwork.
Lieutenant Loyd sat, scrubbed his forehead with his hands, and still rubbing his temples, started talking. “Okay Ensign Lecroix, the sum total of this counseling session was supposed to be you standing at attention while I yelled at you about not doing the tactics sim sessions that I told you to do. And that the captain told you to do back when you got your promotion. You were supposed to leave here chastised, having promised to stop lazing around, and go spend the next four hours blowing up ships. And then you were supposed to spend half your days for the next couple weeks blowing things up, too, and by that time you'd probably manage to make the ship that gets blown up be something besides your own ship at least some of the time. But that happened.” Lieutenant Loyd flipped a hand towards the passageway and flared his fingers. “Why didn't you just kick him in the balls?”
The master chief's sudden stillness revealed he was listening after all.
Claire bit her lip.
“This is the part where you say something, Ensign.” Lieutenant Loyd chided quietly.
Claire hunched farther in her chair. She was sure her expression was mulish, but she'd never been good at controlling it when she felt like she was being attacked. “No excuse, Sir.” She attempted the standard answer.
Lieutenant Loyd's response of, “Fucking Academy,” was not what she expected. He resumed rubbing his temples and sighed.
Claire glared at him and waited for him to try to drag another answer out of her. You couldn't win when something like this happened, but you could hold onto your pride and not lose.
Lieutenant Loyd looked back, occasionally blinking or glancing around enough to keep it from being a staring contest, but he didn't break the silence.
“You can't kick them.” Claire whispered.
Lieutenant Loyd made an inquisitive noise but matched her volume.
“Look, it's—” Claire coughed and tried to return to a normal tone and keep the quaver out of her voice. “When someone does something like that,” she looked at Master Chief Wallens warily as she continued waiting for him to exclaim or interrupt or demand details or proof or something. The master chief didn't show any response at all, so Claire continued, “When, that is, if it was some stranger I suppose it might work, but you'd have to kick pretty hard and not miss, and it's not the kind of thing you can practice. But strangers don't really do that. It's people you know who you have to see day after day. A punch they might laugh off and get over without feeling the need to make it into some kind of power thing. Because, well, if it becomes a power thing that's when it really gets bad.” Claire clamped down before she spilled