Alright, so it wasn't the most mature response she'd could have made, but it was a marked improvement from her initial one and she was going to stick with that when Evan and Russo lectured her later.
Maylor's mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out.
It was childishly thrilling to stun someone who'd made a career out of being smarter than everyone else into silence.
And it was important to remind everyone on this ship who was in charge and THAT was only Finley, despite what Maylor and others may believe.
Maylor finally found his words. "I-"
A distant explosion shook the entire ship and the screech of metal sliding on metal followed. Not violent enough to be catastrophic, Finley had been aboard a ship that suffered a catastrophic explosion before, and those explosions were of a different nature entirely.
There was a visceral moment that always came after, the immediate and terrifying realization that you were on a spaceship that had just suffered a un-correctable event and there were very limited means of survival. All Federation ships had carried life pods and smaller ships that could theoretically carry the entire crew if the ship lost its life support capabilities, but the kind of events that took down the life support systems were rarely calm, manageable, or came with enough warning to get everyone to a pod or a ship in time.
Even Finley had only ever managed to save half her crew from a catastrophic engineering event, and she hadn't managed half when they'd taken unsalvageable damage during a battle.
There was an unspoken rule that it was kinder to destroy an entire ship outright rather than deal significant damage and then leave it to die slowly.
And since ships were already limited in their supplies, it was rare to take prisoners unless there was a nearby station, colony, or planet to shuttle them to in a relatively short time frame.
Maylor paled, gripping the back of the First Officer's chair as the ship shook.
Finley taped her comm as a holo-screen popped up above the table and Evan appeared. Engine two was behind him, smoking, and Evan had smears of grease across red, sweaty skin.
Despite how he looked, and the raised voices coming through behind him, he was quick to say. "It's all good! We're fine. The engine's fine, it's just being…" He glanced at something off screen. "Finicky." The shaking stilled as he spoke.
"Finicky?" Finley repeated, amused the panic permeating the Command Deck. "Is Nemo working on it?"
Evan gave her a flat look. "Nemo's busy."
"Carl?"
"Carl."
Finley sighed. "Lovely to see things are returning to normal already."
"Even war can't change everything!" Evan cheerfully announced and it was probably a good thing he couldn't see the disbelieving looks he got from the rest of the officers on deck. "We'll be up and running in a few minutes. Shouldn't affect the launch time at all."
"Alright, send me the five's when you have a moment."
On screen, Evan nodded, then something off screen caught his attention and his eyes went wide just as the holo-screen when blank.
Finley pulled up the current diagnostics for engine two so she could monitor them as Evan and the mechanics made the repairs.
"Uh, shouldn't you send help?" Maylor pried his fingers from the First Officer's chair now that the ship was still.
Finley dismissed the question with a flick of her wrist. "Evan would have asked if they needed it."
"The captain's job is to control and manage everything that happens on this ship. Especially emergencies!"
Ah, Finley thought. There is was. Maylor may have been a Pacifist, but he'd also wanted to be Captain.
And everyone but a Pacifist knew a Pacifist could never be a ship captain.
Finley gave him a bland smile. "If it was an emergency, the alarms would be going off. No need to make something bigger than it actually is." That was one of the most dangerous things you could in an emergency. It was imperative to understand the situation for what it was and what it wasn't, because overreacting in an emergency could be just as dangerous as underreacting.
Maylor clearly didn't agree as he sputtered. "You not going down there?"
Finley turned to him. "What use would I be? Evan knows what he's doing. The engineers and mechanics know how to do their jobs. The best people for the situation are handling it. Adding more people will just complicate it. Could even have a negative impact. It's important, Diplomat Maylor, to remember that it's also the responsibility of the captain to know their crew and to trust in their abilities. A micromanaging Captain can damage a crew even faster than the enemy."
An ugly flush rose in Maylor's cheeks. Finley had clearly hit a sore point.
That was the true responsibility of any leader. To inspire and help others become better versions of themselves. It was often a forgotten responsibility, easy shuffled aside for more immediate things and put off because it was hard. It was difficult to teach, to mentor, to step back and let others make mistakes so they could learn and even harder to know when to step in and when not to.
Finley firmly believed it was not a skill anyone was born with, but one that was born from hard work and an honest desire to do the work. Some people spent their entire lives trying to learn it and never did, and others figured it out relatively quickly. And sometimes what they learned worked for one group and not the next and they had to start all over again.
Not everyone was willing to learn it over and over again either.
Martinez stepped in before either Finley or Maylor could speak again. "Diplomat Maylor, it says none of the Diplomatic Corps has checked into their rooms or checked into Communications."
"We had a department meeting to ensure everyone knew what they needed to do."
"Then perhaps you could now go do that, so those departments can move on to the other things they need to do."
Turns out, Martinez had a bite to go with those big brown eyes.
~ tbc