[That feels like a fracture point, and Jim pushes down on it viciously.]

See, funny thing about asking me to leave my rank at the door and then demanding Starfleet property from me. I get to tell you 'fuck off' without any of those pesky 'Fleet repercussions about diplomacy.

[His tone sharpens. It's a measure of how far he's come that it's not shaking with anger.]

You don't get it both ways. Because while I'm here? I am Starfleet. I am the ranking officer on deck and you'll respect that, or you can get bent. Do I make myself clear?