Lt. JG Natasha Cole - Now We Sharpen It

[Natasha Schell]

((Security Training Facilities - Security Center - USS Artemis-A)) 

Cole: Promising. Just don’t let patience curdle into hesitation. The corridor punishes that. ::quick finger-gun gesture::

This was the part she cared about. Gavrin listened, moved with purpose, and used the environment instead of letting it use him. The piece of scrap metal was a good instinct. Not elegant, but clever. His execution still lagged behind his judgment, though. He had the room. He just hadn’t quite claimed it.

A faint smile touched one corner of her mouth. Not indulgent. Earned.

Tarsan: Damnit! So close...

Cole: You found the solution. You just didn’t trust it fast enough.

Tarsan: Right, doesn't matter how close, I'm still dead, huh?

Cole: In here, close matters. It tells me your instincts are improving. And it means we can fix it without writing to your next of kin.

Tarsan: ::wryly:: Yeah, okay, that's a good point.

Cole: You solved the problem before you fired. That’s the hard part. Then you got excited and tried to win faster than your aim could support.

She lifted one hand and marked the sequence in the air with two fingers: move, distract, draw, shoot, then paused on the last beat.

Tarsan: All well and good solving the problem, but still missed that last shot, huh? 

Natasha pushed off the wall and crossed the corridor at an easy pace, one hand settling at her hip as the last remnants of holodeck light faded around them.

Cole: If this were just about hitting targets, I’d be less impressed. What I wanted was judgment. You gave me that. Now we sharpen it.

Tarsan: Now?

Cole: Unless you’ve got somewhere more important to be, we keep going. As far as the phaser drill goes, you’ve passed. Now we work on making your judgment and execution agree with each other.

Natasha smiled at the groan Gavrin let out. She tipped her chin back toward the lane, already shifting mentally from assessment to instruction.

Tarsan: Nope, nowhere else to be, Lieutenant.

Cole: Good. Then we work on follow-through. You’ve got the instincts, the next step is trusting them.

Tarsan: Just show me where to start.

Natasha gave him a small nod and stepped back toward the center line of the corridor, one hand lifting to indicate his previous cover point. She pointed toward the crate he had used earlier, then traced the engagement lane in the air between them.

Cole: Same corridor. Same problem. This time when you make the right call, you commit to it. Or I can demonstrate and ruin your confidence for the afternoon. Your choice.

End Scene for Natasha!

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Lt. JG Natasha Cole
Security Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240205NC4