"I really don't need to handle a firearm." Kate Stewart sits within the lab setting, mostly alone. Various lower level staffers buzzing about the room. Paying little to no attention to her personal corner. She preferred this, actually. Not really seeing the need to have her own office, much less laboratory.
"Ms. Lethbridge-Stewart, you know very well that you're up for Chief Scientific Officer-"
"And you know, very well, that I honestly don't care."
Winifred Bambera folds her arms slowly, "Does your father know you're up for a promotion?"
"Does he need to?" The blonde raises an eyebrow, finally turning in her seat to meet the eye of the military clad woman next to her, "Brigadier Bambera, while I fully appreciate your desire to see me hold a higher-"
"Not my desire, a necessity." She shakes her head, "This whole...organization, I don't see it lasting another decade unless we take a look at our direction. I think you know that." The Brigadier edges against the table, still watching the younger woman, "Learning to aim and properly fire a pistol won't hurt you, either. What have you to fear?"
"I don't fear a pistol, I just don't see the necessity of it. I'd rather not be involved in any events that require me to have one in the first place." Kate stands from her seat, turning only to see a woman she largely looked up to standing not far from her, arms crossed and a scowl painting her face. "You, of all people, know why I don't like them."
Liz Shaw shakes her head, reaching a hand up to tuck a piece of her brunette hair behind her ear, "Katie, just learn. Leaning something has never hurt anyone. No one is telling you that you must carry a pistol at all times, or even own one." She pauses as she notices the young woman start to protest, "I could always ask your father to stop in to teach you."
Kate quickly understands that there's no possible way for her to win this argument. "I'm a pacifist." One last ditch effort, she thinks. Years of her own childhood flooding through her mind, wondering where her father was. Pretending he was on glamorous adventures instead of mundane military runs. Now, however, she knows her imagination was actually closer to the truth. Sighing, she walks past Brigadier Bambera, letting her know she would go along with this seemingly trivial exorcise.
"I'm glad you made the correct decision, Ms. Lethbridge-Stewart." Bambera forms a smirk at the corner of her mouth, walking alongside the younger woman.
"Please, just Stewart. I don't want any favors." As they enter the elevator, she reaches back, unclipping her hair a moment to run a hand through it before clipping it back up. "When I was younger...much younger, simply a child myself." She smiles a little, amusing herself, "I was living on this houseboat with my son. It was all I could afford at the time as a single mother...something that was mine and no one else's. My son Gordy...would ask about Dad...on occasion. I hadn't spoken to my father at that point since I ran away as a teenager with my boyfriend. My Dad didn't like my boyfriend and I felt it was rather...selfish of him to immediately dislike someone he hardly even knew."
"Father's aren't supposed to like their daughter's boyfriends. It's in their contracts."
Kate exhales, "True, but I should have listened to him. My father is an excellent judge of character." Folding her arms, she continues, "I have a reason for this story." She pauses a moment before continuing, "There was these...odd things going on at a University that was close to where I was keeping my boat. I didn't really have much money for fuel to continue travelling, so we had to stay. Dad showed up...and it was...nearly six years since I had seen him. His usual pistol in hand...it terrified me."
"The pistol terrified you, or did your father?" Bambera offers, continuing to walk next to her as they exit the elevator after a moment. "I'm trying to be more personal in my old age, my children seem to like it." Her tone showing the slightest bit of amusement in the woman's dry exterior.
"Yes, on both counts." Kate huffs a chuckle to herself, letting the space between them fall silent for a moment, "It isn't that I don't want the promotion. I wouldn't mind it in the least. However, this place has grown more and more militaristic. I feel like the funds needed would go towards that instead of researching and understanding the beings and artifacts that visit this planet. Conversation is far superior than the muzzle of a pistol in a face."
"I agree with that." The older woman nods slowly, gaining a surprised expression from the blonde next to her. "I love guns, but...I'd rather not fire them at someone if I don't need to."
The blonde relaxes a bit, feeling slightly defeated, "But you're only one voice."
"Correct. So, they'd need a little...push." Bambera opens the door to the firing range. Smiling a bit when her other person in the room catches sight of her. "I've other things to do, Ms. Stewart."
Kate appears confused, entering the room more, "Dad?"
"Hello, Tiger. Rumor has it you've some training to do." Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart lifts his head, cane in his hand, "Well, who better to teach you than your dear old Dad?"
She starts to chuckle, a loud, belly laugh that she knows could probably be heard through several of the underground tunnels if it weren't for the soundproof door. "Who put you up to this?"
"I apologize, but that's classified, Ms. Lethbridge-Stewart." He smiles a little as his daughter moves closer to him, embracing him tightly.
Kate holds him for a few minutes, her stepmother having called only a few weeks prior to tell her his cancer had returned and was far more aggressive than previously. It brings a tear to her eye, which she does her best to push down. Crying at work was the very last thing she'd ever want. She'd been hiding really. Of course she'd let him have this, she needs it too. "Well, you get your wish...me holding a Glock." She glances over to the table, holding the various pistols.
"That was never my wish, Tiger." General Lethbridge-Stewart shakes his head slowly, meeting her eye, "However, it was my wish that you'd be prepared to defend yourself if the worst should arise. Knowing this place, it will."
"I don't want to take another life."
"No one wants that. None of us here...well, I can't speak for everyone here, just the sane ones...no one wants to harm anything. However, being prepared is something everyone should be. Even if you never fire it, you should know how to safely fire it." He motions to the few pistols on the table. "Now, I've brought a few of my own...and this one...I don't believe I'm going to be needing. So...it's all yours."
Kate hesitates at the table, swallowing. "I really don't want to do this."
"Well, sometimes, we have to do things we don't want to do. Being brave is knowing that and doing them anyway."
"You always said Science Leads, which, last I checked, has absolutely nothing to do with-"
"Oh, come now, Kate. The children are nearly grown. Well...Gordon is, that other one I'm not so sure about." The General allows an amused chuckle escape his lips, "I know it scares you, but you're a Lethbridge-Stewart. You must give it your all...because I know you can."
"People still refer to you as The Brig around here, you know." Kate picks up the Glock 17 from the table, inspecting it in front of her. She bites the inside her her cheek, telling herself to suck it up. "I correct them, but...you're still The Brig."
"Well, I suppose I'd rather be The Brigadier instead of A Brigadier." General Lethbridge-Stewart stands near her, gently placing a pair of soundproof headphones over her ears, as well as a pair over his own, helping her position her arms, "See? Not even a humanoid target. Just a regular...target. Think of it as a game. Think of where you want to shoot and...let them have it five rounds rapid."
Her hands tremble, feeling tears beginning to fill her eyes fully after each shot before nearly slamming the pistol on the ledge of the range window, backing away slowly, almost as if she's afraid of it. She brings her hands up, wiping her dampened cheeks. She senses her father's concern from next to her, finally speaking when she feels his hand on her forearm. "I'm okay."
"No, you are not. Sit." He motions to the chair next to the table that he knows they placed there for him. He's surprised when she listens, something she didn't do very often when it came to him. "Did I ever tell you of the time I helped Sarah Jane break into the Black Archive?"
Kate's gaze turns wide eyed, unbelieving of her father, "You did what?"
The man waves a hand in the air to dismiss the idea, "Site four. Hardly nothing." He pauses, "You'll probably be hearing of that soon if you haven't already."
She takes a deep breath, of course he did. It compels her, for some reason or another, to just lay it all on the line for him, "When I was very pregnant with Gordy, Jonathan would...sleep with a pistol under his pillow. He'd threaten me on the daily. Hold the muzzle to my head. Still have a mark from him doing so after having fired it...burn mark." Kate motions to a place behind her ear before she clears her throat, "He would drink in excess and his anger would just worsen. I finally called police to have him sorted. So...I already wasn't a fan of pistols to begin with...because of him, they've terrified me."
Alistair nods slowly, wishing she would have just simply picked up the phone. He would have been there. He could have helped her. Protected her and his grandson at the time. "He's gone. Your fear of him has nothing to do with the fear of a pistol."
Kate nods a little, straightening up in her seat. She knows that when her father says it, that it's true. It's what ruined her marriage, her inability to trust other men. "Do you really think I could be Chief Scientific Officer?"
"Oh, Tiger, I think you can run this whole damned thing."