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

Walking out of the turbolift, Molly waited for Forgrave to follow. “So… if you don’t mind my asking, how come someone with an Engineering degree ended up in Security instead? Personal choice, or did Starfleet force your hand? They are quite good at that…” She asked curiously as they walked to Holosuite 1.

Capt. Holloway, CIO

Issac had found himself somewhat surprised when he finished his story; both that he had told as much of it as he had, and that it had brought back some thoughts and emotions that he had preferred to leave in his past. But from long practice at this point, he had been able to shed most of it quickly. Intellectually, he recognized that he probably ought to address it at some point, but it had always been easy enough to push it off until ‘later.’

With his introduction to Captain Holloway being the… mildly catastrophic event in the holodeck, it felt like he was meeting an entirely different person; a far cry from the Cagey Intelligence officer he had met a week ago. Almost instinctively, he found himself wondering if this was an act, or simply another facet of someone that realistically, he hardly knew. Thinking of her achievements; he leaned towards the latter - unless going to ‘The Farm’ was able to change someone so dramatically. Which in fairness, was entirely possible… For now, I’ll try to assume the best; too easy to think myself in circles on this path, with nothing to show for it.

It wasn’t the first time Issac had been asked about his choice of department; and it was a perfectly fair one. “Bit ‘a both, I guess. I do hold an Engineering degree, that’s true enough. But I gotta emphasize historical with it - the focus was on engineering, but it was most all pre-Federation era. When I got into the Academy, I looked at Engineering, and… a good bit of it was appealing to me. But when it came to some ‘a the more advanced stuff; while I could work it out and get it done, it was a damn chore. Just couldn’t see myself doin’ that fer any length of time. Someday I may take another crack at it, but probably not anytime soon.”

It was a reasonable explanation, Molly thought. She was familiar with the trial and error that many times came with their courses at the Academy. Believing one liked something, only to find out it was actually not that interesting, but ending up finding something else of interest in its place. She assumed that was true of most education.

“Then around that time, I’d started to get into more of the security and tactics courses, and found I enjoyed them a lot more than expected.” Issac paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. “In hindsight, wouldn’t suprise me if some ‘a my professors conspired together ta make that happen, but so far I can’t complain. In particular, I think I owe a lot to Lt. Saunders - even if she aint had no influence getting me into Security, she sure took me under her wing once I started on that track.”

And Forgrave felt that was a fairly apt statement - he’d worked with her a fair amount during the latter half of his time at the Academy, as well as his cadet cruise; and he suspected that her influence was greater than he could easily guess at. At minimum, she had helped shape his attitude towards Security; that knowledge and understanding was just as important to them as it was for Engineering, Science, and Medical.

“What about you? How does one find themselves in Intelligence?” A pause, then “Though I suppose I can imagine it ain’t the biggest jump from Security…”

Ensign Issac Forgrave, Security

“You would be surprised, Mr. Forgrave.” Molly said with a slight smile. There are a lot of different areas involved in the Intelligence community, and I would say that any of the four main Starfleet departments produce good Starfleet Intelligence officers in their own fields of expertise. In turn, they make us cover a lot of ground we only broached at the Academy. Now… if you’ll excuse the cliché…” She said as they approached the door to Holosuite 1. “… you don’t choose Intelligence, but rather, Intelligence chooses you.” Holloway tapped a few commands on the pad next to the door, and the doors opened to reveal the empty holodeck.

Issac made a small, noncommittal noise in response. From the bits and pieces he’d picked up over time about intelligence, the cliché rang with truth. If nothing else, it fit with the theme of most stories related to them; that they knew all the answers before they even asked.

“I was well into my Command track when I was approached by Intel… in fact, I had just left the Turing.” She paused abruptly. “Computer, run Shooting Range program, Standard version.” The holodeck grid was suddenly replaced by a long chain of small booths, each complete with a holographic target three meters away, and a pair of earmuffs.

Forgrave found his attention divided between the tale and the holodeck itself - he had never ceased to be impressed by holodecks in general; and though he’d be slow to admit it, there were still times where they flat caught him off-guard. Moving into what now appeared to be a standard, if plain shooting range, he returned his focus to Holloway.

She scoffed, continuing as if nothing had happened. Her features hardened considerably. “Speaking about past events never dealt with… losing the Turing was… devastating.” Holloway’s voice trembled slightly, anger threatening to spill to the surface. “Intel gave me a door and I took it. And I never looked back since. And if I ever have my moment, Command will never even know what happened.” Her tone was bitter. “Don’t get me wrong though…” She looked back to the Security officer. “It’s not a journey without scarifice. It’s not the ‘cool job’ everyone makes it out to be. They break you in ways that Starfleet Security cannot even begin to imagine. It’s a way of life, I guess. I don’t regret it. Quite the contrary.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Issac processed the Captain’s story. A part of him; the nasty, suspicious, and cautious portion that Lt. Saunders had helped to hone, was squawking quietly in the background. I wonder.... seems awful convenient on behalf of Intelligence. Sink a career, throw a lifeline… get an agent. An agent that likely won’t hesitate to be pointed… inwards. His mind raced ahead; connecting hypothetical dots. It was a stretch, based on hints and wisps of nothing. But it made a dark sense - kill an officer’s career, with some higher-up to blame. Grab the officer, train them up, use them as needed. And if those same higher-ups need to… disappear; simply have their paths cross. Issac knew his thoughts were drifting further and further away from reality, and quickly dismissed that line of thinking. But the first part; that part made far too much sense to so easily dismiss. After all, as Holloway had said, Intelligence chooses you…

“Now.” Molly smiled back at Forgrave, her lighthearted expression back. It was almost as if for a moment she had been possessed by a much darker version of herself that had now left. “Just tell the computer what weapon you want, and what booth you’ll be at, and it will show up there. If three meters is too short of a distance for you, the computer can adjust it. All you have to do is say the word. This is, of course, the indoor version. I know there’s an outdoor version somewhere, and Calvin has his own outdoor shooting range program. Somewhere in Oklahoma.” She shrugged. “Never been, so I couldn’t tell you how faithful it is. But… it’s rolling hills of grass and the targets are watermelons.” She chuckled. “I grew up in San Francisco… Midwesterners baffle me.”

“Ha! A day of shootin’ watermelons don’t sound half bad at all…” Truthfully, Issac had spent a fair few days doing almost exactly that prior to joining StarFleet. There was a weird, simple pleasure inherent to blowing up fruit and other similar objects; or so he felt - and it seemed like his CO might agree.

Molly shot a quick glance at Forgrave. A smile hanging on her lips. Well, maybe Calvin and the Ensign might get along well…

“Computer, set file Wright Two Gamma Nine on Booth 1. Authorization code Holloway Five Alpha.” and a holographic version of her faithful Hackathorn Special materialized on the booth. Molly grinned at Forgrave. “One thing I’ll say about old Earth weapons. Energy weapons are beautiful and efficient, but projectile weapons are way more fun to shoot.”

Capt. Holloway, CIO

“I’ll have to agree with ya there - I think it’s cause projectile weapons, particularly antiques, are just more… present. They can be inescapably loud, the recoil makes aiming more difficult, and in most cases, they simply weigh more. In damn near every way, they seem to exert their presence that much more strongly than any phaser could. It’s strange, in a way, that something a thousand times more deadly, versatile, and useful is just… unobtrusive.” Issac held an almost… reverent tone in his voice - one that was deeply respectful, and more often found among Klingons than Humans when talking about weapons, antiques or otherwise.

“Energy weapons don’t require as much skill… you can give one to pretty much anyone, and as long as they have a decent aim, they can point and shoot, and they will probably make the mark. Some people prefer that… I mean… The amount of people that play Velocity should tell you how much more popular and easy to use energy weapons can be.”

Moving over to the available booths, Issac picked one that left an empty stall between himself and Holloway, partially to lessen the concussion from his neighbor. He made a note to himself to ask about the pistol she had ‘summoned;’ he hadn’t gotten a close look, but he thought it may have been a 1911, or some variant. He would have pegged her for a slightly more modern caseless pistol; though to be fair, .45 ACP’ popularity lasted far longer than anyone would have guessed.

As he donned the ear and eye protection from the bench, he thought about his request. “Computer, can you give me an organized readout of projectile weapons available to me in this simulation? Booth 5, please.” Almost instantly, a PaDD appeared on the bench before him. Issac began scrolling through the options, experimenting briefly with various sort filters; quietly giggling to himself like a kid in a candy store who has just been told he’s got the run of the place.

Issac had told no lie when he mentioned that he had been able to work with a few museums on antique firearm restoration; he recognized that he had been extremely fortunate to have access to a number of magnificent collections. But he had failed to mention that he and his father had amassed quite a collection of their own over the years; both of original antiques, and not a few hand-built replicas. Most had been sold off when Issac liquidated the store prior to joining StarFleet, but he had kept a storage locker on Earth for some items he couldn’t bring himself to let go of.

Eventually, he settled on an old favorite for recreational shooting; while its service history wasn’t quite as distinguished as the venerable 1911 that Holloway seemed to favor, Forgrave had a sweet spot for the CZ 75. After making his selection, it was impossible for him to hold back a broad smile as his hand found a familiar grip on the classic pistol. Instinct level habit made him check that it was clear, before setting it back on the bench and requesting a stack of loaded magazines and a compatible holster. He had intended to work on his draw, after all.

Ensign Issac Forgrave, Security

It was Holloway’s turn to put both eye and ear protection in place, and to request the computer the required ammunition.

Much to Calvin’s annoyance, Molly was not exactly the ‘gun bunny’ he would like her to be. She did enjoy the occasional afternoon at the range, but if she had to pick something to do on her free time, shooting targets was not usually her choice.

As with any other officer, Starfleet required her to keep a certain number of practice hours logged with the standard hand phaser. Adding to that, Intelligence required her to keep practice hours with every weapon she had requested. And that was the one she currently had in front of her. Since Forgrave had suggested them heading to the shooting range, Holloway decided that she might as well spend that time in something useful.

Loading her weapon, Molly carefully aimed at the silhouette-shaped target three meters away from her. Without warning, three shots were fired. Two hitting the target dead center in the silhouette’s chest and the other in the middle of its forehead.

Capt. Holloway, CIO

In contrast, Issac took a more methodical approach. He’d readily admit to being out of practice, at least with anything that wasn’t StarFleet standard issue. He took some time to re-acquaint himself with the CZ, bringing it up from a ‘low ready’ position and dry-firing. Partway through this process, he could hear Holloway begin shooting; though it was at a much reduced volume. Suppose there’s advantages to a holodeck range… Anythin’ ya want ta shoot, and neighbors’ ain’t blowing out your eardrums. Definitely have ta remember this program.

Having satisfied himself with the fit and function of the… holographic? Replicated? gun, he brought up a target at three meters. It was a small target, a bit larger than a PaDD, with 10 circles in a grid pattern, each roughly 5 cm in diameter. Slowly, he started shooting the circles, in irregular staccato patterns. At times he could carefully aim before firing, other times he would bring up the pistol from the holster, pulling the trigger as soon as he felt able. He seemed to straddle speed and accuracy; favoring neither. After clearing each target he would examine it, noting the size of the groups; grimacing where he had pulled a shot, and smiling when he felt he had done well.

Overall, he was not quite satisfied with his shooting; though that was tempered with his acknowledgement of being out of practice. And besides; how likely was it that he’d be called to use something besides a phaser? Even the Pulse Rifles were quite rare, to say the least of the TR-116. And the Dot Torture target does live up to the name… Maybe I can adapt it to the phaser? A tight beam oughta work well for that; either way I think it’s good practice.

With that thought, Issac paused, thinking. Muttering to himself, he made some notes on a PaDD, before setting up a fresh target, same as previous. Drawing his issued type 2 phaser, he confirmed it was set to level 1, and on the tightest beam setting. Slowly, but with increased confidence, he starting running through a very slightly modified version of the drill he had been running with the antique. Examining the target, he found (to no surprise) that he had no ‘pulled’ shots - currently, he was just more familiar with the phaser; as well as it being easier to shoot well. Privately, he made a goal of getting re-acquainted with the antiques that he was so fond of; though he’d be hesitant to admit it, his skill had degraded significantly over the past few years since leaving North Carolina and regular practice.

Ensign Issac Forgrave, Security