They say old habits die hard. And in Molly’s case they were right.

Four years had passed since she had lost the Turing, but even after all the years and all the changes in her career, Holloway still kept the habit of pulling up the files of new crew members assigned to the Dresden and going over them. Having the Commanding Officer’s blessing and the clearance to do it helped to keep the habit, but even though Molly had a less personal relationship with the members of the crew, she liked to know who was on board.

Holloway didn’t particularly like to pry on people’s lives, which in turn meant that she wouldn’t read more than the absolutely necessary information on someone’s file. However, Mason’s file had caught her attention, and she found herself reading more than she would normally have.

The first thing that caught her eye was a mention to Volan III – the Federation world on the Cardassian side of the Demilitarized Zone. The conflict itself was before her time. Or almost before her time. She had been four years old when the Federation-Cardassian Treaty had been signed, and nine years old when the Dominion War had ended. The second thing that jumped out at Molly was the note on potential mixed loyalties. She didn’t have to read further than that.

Quick to do the math in her head and jump to the conclusion that while James Mason was human he might have potential Cardassian ties, Holloway loaded her faithful Hackathorn Special and holstered it inside her waistband on her hip. A quick computer query revealed Mason’s location in Engineering and the end time of his shift.

The lock code on the Ensign’s quarters was easy to override with her access codes, and once inside, Holloway took some time to sweep through the room in search of anything tying the man to the Cardassian Union, taking special care to leave everything where she found it. (OOC: Let me know if she finds anything that could potentially reinforce or disprove that assumption!)

Finally, as Mason’s shift came to an end, Molly pulled up a chair. When he walked in (and he would walk in at some point) and turned on the lights, he would find his uninvited guest, feet propped up on the dining table, patiently waiting for him. The unmistakable Intelligence black uniform and the fiery red hair leaving no doubts as to who she was. Moreover, Mason’s time at the Antares Shipyards would make sure that the name ‘Holloway’ was not unfamiliar at all.

Capt. Holloway, CIO