Lieutenant JG Thomas Kashner, Transporter Chief
"Commander Bishop, I was wondering if I could talk to you. Off the record." Thomas Kashner fidgeted nervously, then made himself stand up straight. He hadn't graduated at the top of his class by being a wallflower.
"Unofficially? Sure." Commander Bishop's easy smile was part of the reason Thomas has approached him instead of Commander Lee. He was more relevant to the question at hand, anyway. "At ease, Lieutenant."
"Thank you, sir." Thomas relaxed, but only marginally. Even off the record, he knew he was on thin ice. "I had a question regarding transporter procedure."
"Yeah?" Bishop asked lazily, seemingly taking the informal nature of this meeting to heart.
Thomas swallowed once and dove right in. "Sir, you take over the transporter controls every time the captain beams to or from the ship. Is...is that because you don't trust me with her safety?"
Bishop stared at him hard, but his voice was still deceptively casual. "If I-or more important, Starfleet Command-didn't trust you with any of our personnel, you wouldn't be wearing that uniform. So trust isn't the issue." He paused a moment, then shrugged, giving Thomas a disarming smile. "Maybe you should think of my...interference...as job security. If something went wrong when the captain was using our transporter, it wouldn't be on your head."
It was a smooth answer, but too glib. "That's my job, sir. My responsibility."
"And I'm not trying to undermine that. Just chalk it up to my personal quirk and not a comment on your performance." Bishop sounded like that was the last word on the subject, and Thomas had to accept it.
"Yes sir." he paused, then went ahead with his other concern. "I've also been studying the record of Ensign James' transporter...accident."
"Spectacular, wasn't it." Bishop raised an eyebrow. "Won't happen again, since Cameron's exempt from using the transporter."
"Forbidden" was more accurate, but that wasn't actually the point. "I was wondering if any of the other...trial subjects...might have similar issues."
Bishop straightened up, all pretense of camaraderie vanishing. "Your fellow officers have all been cleared for standard transport."
There was a warning edge to his voice that Thomas knew he'd be wise to heed. But the footage had been so alarming, the incident so extreme- "Ensign James almost died. The transporter circuits completely blew and the matrix nearly exploded. If that had happened, they might've lost a quarter of the ship, maybe more. If-"
Commander Bishop's voice turned hard. "A lot of 'ifs' in space travel, period. But if you have reservations about your crew mates, that's a bigger issue."
"It's their abilities, sir," Thomas said, knowing how he sounded, that he might be putting his career on the line. Confidentiality only went so far. "There isn't a lot of documentation, so much is classified, there's no way to know..." he trailed off. There wasn't anything else to add, really.
Bishop was silent for a moment, which was probably better than immediate condemnation. When he spoke again, his voice was even. Thomas wasn't fooled, though. "Would you have issues serving next to a Vulcan? An Andorian? Even without being familiar with every aspect of their physiology?"
"...no," Thomas said, genuinely miserable, hearing himself and offering no defense. He had none.
"Well then," Bishop said, as if the issue was settled. It wasn't, not by a long shot, but Thomas knew he was already on the edge of an official reprimand. He'd tarnished his reputation with the commander, probably permanently. That was enough damage for one day.