Babysitting

Posted on Mon 12th Jun, 2017 @ 1:16am by Lieutenant Colonel Brooklyn Wellington

652 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: For The Uniform
Location: Fighter Operations Office

Brooklyn looked over the reports on the first flight class of Starbase Vanguard on the PaDD that she held in her hand. Corporal Ben Smith was still doing well, but on a whole: average. He was still having problems with the manual landing, which was an essential skill to master in order to earn your wings. She worried about the impact that having an unsupportive spouse would have on him. She wanted nothing more than to slap the hell out of the woman and tell her to stop being selfish and childish but it really wasn't any of her business.

The door chime sounded. "Enter," Brooklyn called, Looking up from her PaDD to the door.

Lieutenant Rose O'Malley entered. "You asked to see me, ma'am?"

"Ah, lieutenant. Yes, please have a seat," Brooklyn gestured to the chair in front of her desk.

O'Malley took the seat, wondering what was going on now. "Aye, ma'am."

"I'll be leaving the station to lead an escort mission for Colonel Drake and Commander Hunt soon, so I wanted to make sure you will be able to handle everything.

O'Malley sighed nervously. "Why are you going, ma'am? Isn't your position here on the Starbase?"

Brooklyn grinned. "Because it's my prerogative, lieutenant. Besides I need to keep up on my flight hours which have been slacking lately due to training the upcoming flight class."

Defeated, O'Malley nodded. "Aye, ma'am."

Brooklyn leaned forward, clasping her hands together on the top of her desk. "Lieutenant? What is the matter? Why are you so nervous about taking command for several hours?"

O'Malley was silent for a moment as she chose what to say next--she didn't want to come off as being whiny. "Well, ma'am, I feel I'm not really qualified to take command of the department."

"And why is that?" Brooklyn questioned.

O'Malley shrugged. "I guess it's because I'm not a pilot--I'm just a trained administrative Marine."

"Do you really believe that, lieutenant?" Brooklyn shot back almost immediately.

"Yes, ma'am," O'Malley replied.

Brooklyn stood, leaning forward over the desk, slamming her hands down onto the desk. "Lieutenant, I suggest that you remove your head out of your ass."

"Ma'am?" O'Malley was confused, feeling that she hadn't done anything wrong to be spoken to in such a way.

"You're not an administrative Marine, you are a Marine--plain and simple," Brooklyn explained. "And an officer at that. Therefore, you are a leader--expected to lead others. You may not be a pilot but you improvise, adapt, and overcome. Colonel Hunt for example is not a pilot, yet I take my orders from him. If he needs clarification on an issue regarding the fighters, then he contacts me before making an informed decision. There is no reason why you shouldn't be able to do the same. Go to your senior NCOs such as Gunny Ch'chalreth if you have any questions. Leaders aren't born, lieutenant--they're made."

"Aye, ma'am."

"Lieutenant, I have faith in you or else I wouldn't have accepted you into this Wing. Now, you just have to have faith in yourself," Brooklyn continued.

"What if I don't know what to do?" O'Malley asked.

"Just make a decision. Worry about the consequences later. You have to be confident in your decision or those under you will not trust or respect you."

O'Malley nodded. "I understand, ma'am."

Brooklyn smiled. "Good. I'm glad to hear it, lieutenant. Now while I'm gone, keep the CAP rotation the same. Also Spartans Three and Five are down for maintenance for at least another day."

"Aye, ma'am. I'll keep the Wing running in good form," O'Malley stated.

"Good," Brooklyn was impressed with O'malley's change in demeanor. Hopefully she had reached through to the young woman. "You're dismissed."

O'Malley stood and came to attention. "Aye, ma'am."

Brooklyn watched O'Malley leave. 'You'll do fine,' she thought before sitting back down behind her desk, continuing to to go over the Wing's Readiness reports.

 

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