Posted by Captain Molly Holloway (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Somewhere in the Corridors (tag Issac Forgrave)

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Issac Forgrave (Chief of Security) in Somewhere in the Corridors (tag Issac Forgrave)

Posted by Captain Molly Holloway (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Somewhere in the Corridors (tag Issac Forgrave)
Posted by… suppressed (6) by the Post Ghost! 👻
It had been a week since the incident, and Molly still couldn’t stop thinking about it. But somehow, the feelings of guilt and embarrassment were a welcome change from the nightmares that had plagued her mind for the last few months.

Contrarily to popular belief, Molly Holloway wasn’t as heartless as most people thought. She was aware that some crew members in the lower decks had nicknamed her ‘the Ice Queen’, and the first time the name had reached her ears, it had hurt. Molly had tried her best to let it go but stuffed underneath the hard shell that Intelligence had created a part of her still had trouble forgetting it.

Not unusually, it had been her sister to suggest that Molly should talk the Security officer she had unintentionally harmed. Erin was much better at dealing with social situations than Molly had ever been, and more often than not she envied her sister’s ability to turn any scenario to her favor.

As such, that afternoon, after a quick bite to eat, Molly had taken a PaDD with some written notes and queried the computer on the location of Ensign Issac Forgrave — security officers were many times elusive beings, as patrol, brig duty, and security drills could put them anywhere on the ship at any given time.

Leaving the comfort of her makeshift office in the Dresden’s War Room, Holloway took the computer’s information on Forgrave’s whereabouts and went out to meet him. It didn’t take long for her to find him. Hopefully he didn’t hold a grudge against what had happened on the holodeck, but she couldn’t blame him if he did.

Walking towards the Security officer, Holloway’s words came out in a dryer fashion than she wanted. “Forgrave, do you have a moment?”

Capt. Holloway, CIO

After the events in Holodeck three a week prior, Issac found himself with a surplus of free time; while his ribs had been knitted back together once he got to the sickbay, he had been forbidden from ‘strenuous activity’ for several weeks, in order to allow his body to fully recover. Issac had gotten used to staying active even before he entered the Academy; the sudden change in routine was more than a bit jarring. He had very quickly grown bored, and started looking for things to occupy himself with.

Seeing as much of his free time had previously been spent in the Dresden’s gym on deck 12, he had found himself instead being drawn down to deck 27, where there was a firing range. He hadn’t yet had the opportunity to spend any significant time there, and with the extra time on his hands he hoped to rectify that. He had undergone phaser training with the rest of the cadets when he joined Starfleet; and of course there had been regular qualifications and basic training throughout his time in the Academy. In a burst of inspiration, Issac had found some more advanced drills in the ship’s computer, and decided that now was a good a time as any to try some of them. In deference to the CMO’s stern orders, he had selected several of the drills that did not require the shooter to move around that much.

Wonder if they have anything besides the standard-issue phasers… NE Braxton had mentioned that the CO carried some kinda antique on occasion. Odds are it’s a ceremonial piece though; Federation don’t seem to be too fond of firearms. Been too long since I’ve had the chance to play with anything louder than a mouse’s fart…

Between his drifting thoughts and the intelligence officer’s remarkably quiet tread, Issac was caught off guard upon hearing his name called out behind him. He turned around a bit too quickly, betraying his surprise to the keen-eyed officer.

Forgrave hadn’t seen Holloway since the holodeck incident; her sudden appearance and dry tone caused his shoulders to reflexively tense up, perhaps remembering the recent trauma. Collecting himself with a deep breath that he hoped wasn’t too obvious, he forced himself to relax. You’re not in danger here, ya damn fool. Even if she does bust me down, I can live with that. And there ain’t no holodeck monsters here ta kick my ass again.

Issac was no expert when it came to emotions and feelings; particularly his own. Despite that, his lingering feelings of frustration and mistrust towards Holloway were not particularly hard to pick out. Intellectually, he knew that she had not intended for anything to happen; unfortunately, that didn’t change the results. He was pretty sure his face was blank; but he mentally planned his words before speaking - he didn’t want to make that mistake again.

Turning to fully face Captain Holloway, he addressed her with an almost stilted formality present in his voice. “Captain. How may I help you?”

Ensign Issac Forgrave, Security

It was impossible for Molly not to catch the surprise in Forgrave’s reaction. His wariness towards her was also fairly easy to see. Holloway didn’t blame the security officer. If the situations were inverted she would likely have held the same resentment.

“Shooting range, huh?” Molly’s words stumbled out of her lips, in uncharacteristic fashion for often calculated speech of the Intelligence officer. It was clearly small talk. “I didn’t know you cared about shooting things. There’s a pretty decent holodeck program—“ Holoway’s sentence trailed off, not sure whether mentioning anything holodeck related was a good idea. “Ah… at least that wasn’t the program I was running, or it could have been way worse, right?” Molly chuckled slightly at her own… joke? It was clear that that was a reason why Holloway chose to remain quiet most of the time. Although given the current interaction, it would be amazing to think the woman had had a full starship crew under her command a few years prior.

Issac tried very hard not to stare at the Intelligence officer. He desperately searched for the trick, the snare in her words. Surely there had to be one, right? She had likely sought him out; but what was with these awkward questions? Suspicion warred with confusion in his mind as he tried to figure out what was happening.

Molly took a deep breath, looking momentarily down at her toes, before turning to face Forgrave again. Her cheeks slightly rosy with embarrassment. “How are you doing?” The tone was slightly warmer and more genuine, and given Holloway’s posture, closer to the real topic she had walked all the way over to discuss.

Capt. Holloway, CIO

Finally, everything clicked in Issac’s mind. Small-talk. The Chief Intelligence Officer… the head Spook on this ship… is trying to make SMALL-TALK.

He had expected any number of things when the CIO had found him here; a severe dressing-down, an off-the-books “lesson,” or even just a quiet but unmistakable warning. Somehow, a conversation hadn’t been on that list, and Issac’s brain was having trouble finding the appropriate gear. After a few lingering moments of uncomfortable silence as Holloway’s questions drifted into nothingness in the otherwise empty corridor, his brain finally started working again, and he broke the silence.

“I’m uh, I’m doin’ alright. Still a bit sore; Issac gestured vaguely at his ribs here but Doc says that’s normal, oughta pass soon enough. ‘M on half-duty and restricted activity for a bit or so, ‘til she’s satisfied everythin’s healed up and I ain’t hurt myself.” Despite his easy-going words, Issac could still feel a core of tension and suspicion within himself, leading to a more careful selection of answers. Ah hell, maybe she’s trying to extend the proverbial olive branch.... I’d be a damn fool turning it down if she’s genuine. Even if she ain’t, I stand to gain nothing bein’ a jackass.

Issac forced himself to relax once more, and was rewarded with some of the remaining tension leaving his body. He felt his eyes fall out of the more intense gaze he had been holding, and continued speaking. “Ta answer yer other question, shootin’s always been a bit of a… hobby of mine, I guess you could say. Been meaning to spend some more time there; brush up a little.” Issac overlooked the mention of holodecks and their programs for now - though he decided that he would bring it up again later, if a good moment presented itself.

Issac still held some lingering suspicions, but he dismissed those. I’ll do my part and try not to be a jackass again; and hopefully she’ll do the same… Issac winced internally at his line of thinking, realizing that was not so easily done.

Forgrave looked off to the side, as if momentarily considering something, before looking back to Holloway; another brief hesitation, then: “Tell ya what Ma’am, care to join me? Ya seem to want to have an actual conversation, and it’ll give us something to do as I try to figure out what words won’t get me in trouble.” Issac chuckled, though the joke held no lie in it. “Not competition, mind you; I’m just looking to practice some techniques. Maybe see if there was anythin’ besides phasers squirreled away.”

Ensign Issac Forgrave, Security

Molly noticed the change in the intensity of his gaze as he spoke. Was that a sign that she had done something right? Holloway wasn’t completely sure. It was weird to think that she had been trained to read people from across the room, and yet, that particular skillset always seemed to fail her when she wasn’t actively on the job.

Forgrave’s invitation to join him in the shooting range caught Molly off guard and the surprise was evident in her eyes. That could definitely mean some progress, but it could also mean that he would have something to shoot her with if she did something wrong. Although, to be fair, that day in the holodeck, Forgrave had been carrying a phaser and he still didn’t shoot her. Holloway thought it to be safe to assume that he would likely keep within his past pattern of behavior. “Oh! Uh… sure! I haven’t been in the shooting range in a while. I might as well put in my training hours as well.” She gave Forgrave a happy albeit weirdly childish smile.

Issac hadn’t been sure of how the Intelligence officer would react to his invitation; as well, he suspected that they had both realized the… potential for violence inherent to a shooting range at around the same time. Either way, he was glad that she had accepted - Issac didn’t care for leaving things on uncertain or bad terms, and he suspected that that was exactly what had happened a week ago. Gonna have to be careful not to make any sudden moves… Just so she don’t take any ‘preemptive defensive measures.’

“Before we go in though… There’s something I wanted to tell you.” Molly cleared her throat before handing the PaDD she was carrying to the Security officer. It contained what it seemed to be a report of sorts. “I know you’re quite new to the Dresden, and well… new to most of this…” she gestured to the corridor around them. “… but even though you were not supposed to be there, not every officer has what it takes to make the decisions you made on the holodeck… Especially not someone who got out of the Academy a few months ago.” Holloway took a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing. “You have probably heard that I had my own vessel a few years ago, but what you probably don’t know is that I used to be a security officer just like you. I held the Chief of Security position on board the USS Montgomery before climbing on the Command track. I know what makes a good Chief of Security and I recognize the skills when I see them. So… I filed that report this morning with Colonel Harris.” She paused to allow him some time to look through the document. “It is my personal recommendation for you to be appointed the Chief of Security on board the Dresden should we need a new one.” Molly shrugged slightly. “In ships like this one, you never know when that’s going to happen.”

Issac would have argued that ‘Stunned’ did not adequately cover the surprise he felt. Skimming the document before going back and reading it in detail, his attention bounced back and forth between it and Holloway’s voice.
As far as her past went, while he was able to find her StarFleet records, they were… barren, to say the least; effectively beginning and ending with “Intelligence: Top Secret.” He had made the assumption that she had been a captain of a ship at one point in time, but there was very little to go on.

“Ma’am, I’m.....” Forgrave paused, not being sure what level of honesty was appropriate here. As well as not quite trusting himself to speak. I guess mouthin’ off ain’t the death of my career after all…

“I suppose I was under the impression that aside from… tryin’ ta see how badly I could piss a superior officer off, I hadn’t really done anything noteworthy.” His face distorted somewhat at the memory that was brought forth; Issac regretted how he had shot off his mouth at Holloway in the holodeck. Teach me to keep my mouth shut when I’m pissed off… After spending a bit of time researching the Federation’s Intelligence branch, he suspected that he had been in at least as much danger from an angry Holloway as he had been from the monsters.

Even as Issac denied it, part of him recognized that she was at least partially right. The vast majority of security ensigns and cadets that he had met so far would probably not have pursued the issue, or pushed so hard. Issac was self-aware enough to realize that he had an insatiable desire to know more than he did; to poke and prod. During Academy, Lt. Saunders had worked with Forgrave to try and hone that trait towards investigation, with great success. Combined with a stubborn nature and an independent streak, it made for… a few stern talks concerning ‘proper respect for authority.’ The phrase ‘time and place’ was also thrown about. Thankfully, he had avoided any official reprimands, and soon learned the value of silence, or at least careful word choice. “Always think before speaking. Save yourself a lot of trouble that way.” He had taken the Lieutenant’s words to heart, and was grateful that he had her for an instructor.

“And please… don’t think I am doing this to compensate for the other night. I am quite good at separating my professional life from my personal feelings. Ask anyone on board this ship. Hell… Ask Harris.” She chuckled. “Now… as far as the shooting range goes, there’s no other option besides the standard phaser in there, but the holodeck’s shooting range program is pretty decent if you’re looking for something other than the Starfleet standard. And I promise I won’t do anything stupid this time.” Holloway added with a smile.

Capt. Holloway, CIO

“I… Sincerely appreciate the recommendation, and I’ll do my damnedest to live up to it.” Issac meant every word - while he was not one to describe himself as “devoutly loyal to the Federation,” he placed a very high value in trust - and Holloway had seemingly just taken a massive risk on his behalf.
“I uh, I suppose while the thought had entered my mind, I’d like to think that StarFleet wouldn’t have you where you were if ya couldn’t keep business apart from personal. I don’t get the feeling this was done lightheartedly - while I don’t know that my actions in the holodeck warranted this letter; I’ll make damn sure to be worthy of it from here-on.”

I’ll make damn sure to be worthy of it from here-on. Molly shot Forgrave a half smile at his words. She wasn’t lying. She hadn’t wrote her recommendation out of some wish to compensate for what had happened, and she truly believed in the Ensign’s abilities, otherwise she would never had even thought about it. However, in the mind of the Intel officer, it was still very much a power move. Yes she was a higher ranking officer that had placed Forgrave in a dangerous situation, and she could have gotten in a lot of trouble for it. But his behavior afterwards had also been, as he himself noted, less than professional. Holloway could have given him a lot of trouble in return, but instead she was helping him progress in his career. She had done him a favor he hadn’t asked for. He might not exactly owe her one, but… at least to the common Starfleet Ensign, it created some sort of deference. And Forgrave seemed to already be falling into it.

Nothing that Holloway ever did was innocent, and the same could be very much assumed of the current situation.

Handing the PaDD back to Holloway, Issac was glad to let the conversation be steered back towards… lighter topics.
“Truthfully, I hadn’t considered the holodeck - If you’d still want to join me, I’ll let you decide; though I may have to plead bein’ a mite rusty on any antiques that get used.” Issac grinned, and it would be difficult to say if the slight twinkle in his eyes was for the pun, or something else.

Ensign Issac Forgrave, Security

For a moment, Molly considered sneaking into Cal’s personal shooting range program, but quickly decided against it. After the trouble that her latest incursion to the holodeck had brought on, she wanted to show the Security officer that she wasn’t usually the reckless and paranoid self she had introduced that night. The standard shooting range program in the holosuites would do just fine. “The holodeck is definitely more interesting than the standard training program.” She said. An inquisitive eyebrow raising at his last comment. “Is there any particular antique you have in mind?”

Capt. Holloway, CIO

“Hmmm - Interesting ain’t no problem, so long as uh, we ain’t talking run-‘n-gun or nothing! Doc didn’t say I weren’t allowed ta do any running, but she did glare at me somethin’ fierce when I asked about it.” With the conversational tone having lightened along with the tension in the air, Forgrave’s accent had returned in full force.

Molly chuckled. “No running or boxing. I’m making sure you’re complying with the doctor’s orders. I don’t need more people scolding me for something I did.”

“I think she’d ‘a put me in a coma, or worse, if I’d mentioned boxing....” Issac muttered this at half volume, looking around conspiratorially as if Lt. Janvier might be hiding around the corner.

“let’s see, I hadn’t planned for anything complex; mainly just variations on firing from the draw. I reckon there’s some… differences and whatnot from energy weapons and anythin’ old enough to get called ‘antique,’ but I think the principles oughta hold true. So I’m open to new ideas; maybe ya learned some good techniques in… Intelligence School?” Issac’s voice rose in pitch at the end; turning his statement into a question, his face screwing up in thought as he realized he couldn’t recall the official designation for the StarFleet Intelligence training program.

Holloway’s laughter was disconcerting. She seemed to be in a weirdly good mood, now that what she had come to talk about was out of the way. “I’ve known it as The Farm for so long, I honestly cannot remember its official name either. Now… I couldn’t tell you any techniques that may be taught there, though. If I do, I’ll have to kill you.” She chuckled softly at the centuries old joke.

Issac thought for a moment before answering Holloway’s question. “Well, I don’t know that I have any particular antique in mind… I’ll admit to bein’… somewhat knowledgeable about antique firearms - I’ve always held a deep fascination with most all machinery; pre-21st century in particular.” Issac’s eyes seemed to light up as he started talking about one of his passions; a seemingly unusual event for the typically stoic officer, unless one were to catch him off-duty.

“It was truly an amazing time period for advancements in engineering and ingenuity! So many developments were made without any real computers, just damned smart folks being clever with metal!” A sheepish expression crossed his face as he realized he was starting to ramble off-topic, and he quickly got back to the question at hand.

There was an unmistakable twinkle in his eye. The same she had seen so many times in her sister’s gaze every time she rambled about botany or her damned terrariums she didn’t seem to stop making. She wondered what made people so passionate about certain subjects, and how exactly did it feel. It was something she could never wrap her head around, mostly because she had never really experienced it, but she envied deeply those who did.

“Uh, sorry Ma’am, I get along well with engineers as you could probably guess at, but don’t quite have the head for quantum electronics. I figure unless you got any suggestions, I’ll probably just poke around in the ‘deck and see what the program’s got ready to go; see if anythin’ strikes my fancy.”

“Be my guest.” The smile on Holloway’s lips had faded slightly. “I don’t care too much for ‘antiques’ as you called them. They come with the job, and that’s about it. I understand there are situations when they are particularly useful but to be honest, I like more modern weapons.” For a moment she seemed lost in thought as a faint smile came back to her face. “I got in serious trouble once for trying to replicate a Jem’Hadar plasma rifle. Ironically, I hold high enough clearance to do so now if I wanted… but they quickly lose their appeal once you meet one in real life.” She mindlessly stretched the fingers on her left hand as she spoke.

Issac wondered how much Holloway had delved into his background. As a matter of curiosity, Issac kept tabs on his own file - with the exception of some notes added for the edification of either Intelligence or his superior officers, he knew it’s specific contents well - along with what details were omitted (unless they were in the ‘hidden’ notes, of course). While it did mention that he helped run, (and later liquidated) an ‘antique shop,’ it had scarce detail on what kind of antiques he and his father had dealt with. They had prided themselves on being one of only a few shops that did a significant amount of work with a minimum of computer assistance; in fact, whenever possible, they used period-appropriate technology to fix and restore whatever they had been brought. And in particular, they had specialized in a few main areas - internal-combustion engines (often converting them to burn clean fuels) and firearms; ranging from the mid 19th century to the late 21st.

Issac didn’t exactly hide this knowledge, but neither did he advertise it. Culturally, both subjects were considered… on the fringe, and certainly not mainstream. And in general, Issac valued his privacy - he felt that he had left the business in the past when he joined StarFleet, and was not so eager to discuss it in detail. But he had missed the simple joys in marksmanship - the instant feedback of a good or bad shot, and the challenge of improvement. He suspected that was part of what drew him into Security; not so much the shooting, but the ability to hold himself to a challenge with instant feedback. It wasn’t long before he found out that that wasn’t always the case, but he stuck with it anyways. And if nothing else, being a good shot with an antique made the phaser drills fairly routine; though the shear variety of outputs available took some getting used to.

As they started walking towards the turbolift to go to the holodeck, Issac found himself thinking back on the Intelligence officer’s words. ‘… don’t think I am doing this to compensate for the other night. I am quite good at separating my professional life from my personal feelings.’ I think she’s bein’ honest there; she don’t owe me nothin’ just cause I got banged up in the holodeck - that was a bad thing all around, and I ain’t free of wrongdoing there either. But same lines, I don’t know that I owe her for that recommendation. I’ll work hard to make sure it holds valid, but that’s because I value the trust she extended by vouching for me. So I’ll hold true to myself. But I think it’d be smart to stay cautious around her - I’ve heard stories about Intelligence, and I don’t think I want to be caught under her thumb. Issac knew his logic was twisty at best, but it made enough sense to him, and that was what mattered.

OOC: Sorry, my posts just seem to be getting longer and longer…

Ensign Issac Forgrave, Security

OOC: I love long reads, so no need to apologize! Write as much as you feel like! – Joana

IC:
Following Forgrave to the turbolift, Holloway walked inside the moment the doors opened for them. “Deck 7.” She stated dryly at the computer when the Ensign joined her. The doors promptly closed, and the turbolift started its twenty deck climb through the Dresden.

Molly didn’t usually pry into the personnel files. Especially now that managing the ship’s roster was no longer her job. However, she still skimmed through the important parts more out of habit than out of a desire to know the crew better. “So tell me.” Holloway started. “How exactly did you become so interested in 21st century weaponry? It seems kind of a niche subject…”

Capt. Holloway, CIO

“Ha! I suppose ‘niche’ ain’t a bad way to phrase it…” Issac found himself wondering exactly how much he wanted to reveal to the Intelligence officer. While he was remarkably uncomfortable with deliberate lying (in a general sense, but he was not about to try that on an Intelligence Officer), he had less apprehension towards misdirection.

In a more contemplative voice, he continued. “Well, I reckon it started with my grand-dad, and then my dad.” Here Issac paused again, before resuming. “To make a long story short, they both owned and operated an antique store slash antique restoration service. When I was old enough, I joined in. What with there bein’ plenty of old busted stuff around along with whatever tools were needed, I got to be decent at fixin’ up stuff. My sisters joined in a bit, but it never held their interest like it did mine. When my grand-dad passed away, dad turned the place entirely over to repair and restoration, and I spend about every day working in the shop with him. I reckon just as a matter of course, I fell into my interests naturally.”

Issac chuckled; “Hell, even got myself a degree in what amounted to ‘historical engineering.’ The bulk of our business was related to old cars, and internal combustion engines. We’d fix ‘em up, and often convert them over to hydrogen from fossil fuels. And we’d occasionally get historical firearms in for restoration; we ended up working with a few museum collections. Ya see, there’s a number of shops out there who’ll just… replicate new parts for antiques; and truthfully you’d never know the difference.” It wasn’t hard to detect the note of pride that entered Issac’s voice as he continued.

“What made us special, is that we didn’t use replicators to make stuff - whenever we could, we used period-correct tools. And I can’t explain it, but I always felt that our parts had more… I guess soul to them; if you’ll pardon me being dramatic. Whatever the reason; we were able to charge… enough to make it worthwhile, at least. And according to a few of the curators I worked with; they were of the same opinion regarding replicated antiques.”

Now, Issac’s voice had turned more wistful as he continued his story. “I just about took over the shop after I got my degree; and kept at it for… about four more years. Got to be real good with machinery and everything else.” There was a distinct pause before he continued.

“Then dad died. Aneurysm just… outta nowhere.” Issac snapped his fingers; a sharp ‘crack’ in the otherwise quiet turbolift. When he continued, his voice was quieter, with a sour note of bitterness to his words.

“I set about goin’ through everything, and… well, I reckon finance wern’t my dad’s strong suit. Or maybe creative finance was more his speed.” He sighed heavily; it would be an easy assumption that only part of the story was being told. “Ended up selling off damned near everythin’ to make even; kept some stuff was mine or what I couldn’t make myself sell. M’ folks got some stuff too, a’course. Dumped most everythin’ what was holdin’ me ta North Carolina, and ended up joinin’ StarFleet.”

After another pause, Issac continued; his voice now was more clipped, with a lessened accent. “Ma wasn’t thrilled, but one of my sisters was on a exploration vessel already, so it wasn’t groundbreaking for her. Looked at Engineering, but ended with Security.” His story told, he turned more towards Holloway; while they had both been facing the same wall, he was now roughly 90 degrees to the woman.

“Sorry, don’t think you wanted my life story. I’ll admit to not having… completely dealt with it.” Issac fell silent, lost in thought for a moment.

“Reckon I just… grew up around old tech; and I still like fiddling with it when I get the chance. Suppose that includes some things that’re a bit more dangerous than others.” Issac smiled, but it was somewhat hollow; an unusual facet to the typically self-sure officer.

The ‘ding’ of the turbolift seemed to break the spell over Forgrave, and he shook himself vigorously; almost as a dog would when wet; or when one gets a sudden chill.

“Ma’am?” Issac gestured with an open hand to the open turbolift door, inviting the superior officer to step out first. His face was once more at ease, bearing little sign of the past he had tried to move on from.

Ensign Issac Forgrave, Security