Phule’s Company by Robert Asprin

“I’ll take care of it for you, Remmie,” Armstrong volunteered, jotting a quick note on his pad.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Armstrong,” Phule said levelly, “but I’d rather have Lieutenant Rembrandt handle it herself.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

Phule studied Armstrong’s stiff posture, then shook his head.

“No, Lieutenant, I don’t think you do. I said thank you and I meant it. I really do appreciate your offer. It shows that the two of you are starting to help each other out, and normally I’d encourage it.”

He leaned forward earnestly.

“It’s not that I don’t think you could handle talking to Brandy, it’s that I specifically think Rembrandt should do it … for two reasons. First, she was the one who mentioned the labels Brandy’s using. If you-or I, for that matter-approach Brandy on something Rembrandt said, it leaves the impression that she’s reporting things to us for disciplinary action, which would undermine her efforts to establish herself as an authority figure. I need two junior officers, not one junior officer and an informer. Second, Rembrandt, it’s important to you to address these problems yourself. Sure, Brandy’s intimidating and I don’t think anyone in the room would relish the idea of butting heads with her, but if I let you hide behind either Armstrong or me, you’re never going to grit your teeth and take the plunge yourself, which means you’ll never build the confidence you need to be an effective officer. That’s why I want you to be the one to talk to Brandy.”

He made eye contact with the lieutenants one at a time, and they nodded their agreement.