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 Lieutenant Junior Grade Issac Forgrave (Chief of Security) in Somewhere in the Corridors (tag Issac Forgrave)
Posted by… suppressed (6) by the Post Ghost! 👻
<snip>
“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

Out of the corner of her eye, Molly could see the Forgrave’s target. And a moment later she could hear him shooting. She couldn’t quite make out the weapon he had chosen, but it seemed to be an old Earth model she wasn’t quite familiar with. The Hackathorn Special had been a recommendation she had been given, and after liking the feel of the .45 when she had first tried it, she had never bothered to try anything else.

Handheld weapons were not Holloway’s expertise. She had the knowledge Starfleet Security and later Intelligence had required her to have about them, but she had always found them the ‘easy way out’. Her personal combat abilities laid on a variety of hand to hand techniques, and survival strategies. Their intensive survival training in Charon during the Academy had been one of the things that she had enjoyed the most and it had required perseverance. A gun was nothing more than a point and click interface that, although very practical and crucial in many situations, would make an otherwise carefully crafted strategy seem irrelevant.

Requesting the computer that a new target be placed 5 meters away from its previous placement, it caught her by surprise when the phaser beam entered her field of vision. Forgrave seemed to be experimenting. Intrigued, she watched him for a moment. He was good. But again, she didn’t expect anything else from a Starfleet trained Security officer.

Even though she was familiar with the target setting her range companion was using, it wasn’t one she had used many times in the past. And certainly not with a phaser. Holloway made a mental note to ask him about his little comparison when they were done.

Readying herself, Molly finally aimed at the target 8 meters in front of her, she fired the same three shots. Two to the chest, and one to the head.

Capt. Holloway, CIO

As Issac continued his drill, he slowly increased his speed - using the phaser, he was able to go much faster (while maintaining accuracy) than with any cartridge-based firearm he had ever used. Simply put, it was easier to shoot. That was no great revelation; he’d quickly come to the same conclusion during academy. Inferior or not, he wagered that he’d always have a soft spot for antiques however - he’d spent so much of his formative years ‘living in the past,’ as one friend had put it.

Finding himself pleased with his performance at a distance of 3 yards, Issac set the distance to 5 yards and started anew. As he slowly started on the drill once more, he found his mind wandering over a few stalls, to Holloway. She’d approached him today in an effort to apologize for the incident in the holodeck a week prior, as well as… praise him, he supposed. Though he still wasn’t sure how he felt about the latter.

Though he’d pushed it towards the back of his mind, he was here practicing as a direct result of that incident - frankly, he had been disappointed in his physical performance that morning; at least in hindsight. While he’d like to practice and improve his physical agility, he knew he was not able to do that as of yet - though he had some ideas for spending time down in engineering running about. So instead, he found himself practicing shooting drills.

Within that line of thought, he found himself wondering about Holloway - why had she been in the holodeck all night? His question was less about what she had been doing, just… why? When the CO had been.... ‘debriefing’ her, she had mentioned that she’d been having trouble sleeping, but that didn’t usually preclude someone running a dangerous simulation.

With those thoughts on his mind, he found the questions wouldn’t leave him. He knew it was a flaw of his; that he couldn’t leave things as they were until he’d unearthed every detail and gotten to the bottom of it. With Holloway, he considered it might be unwise to pursue. But still, that voice in the back of his head would not be silenced.

“Ma’am; if you’ll forgive me for asking, why were you in the holodeck that night?” After a brief pause, Issac clarified his question. “I ain’t tryin’ to pry into your personal business, and I sure ain’t a counselor. But… I feel like that looked a bit too much like self-destruction there. Makes me concerned.”

Ensign Issac Forgrave, Security

Leaning back slightly to be able to look at Forgrave, Molly looked at the Security officer with a surprised expression. There was a pause as she seemed to process the unexpected questions. Forgrave hadn’t been the first to express concern for her well being on the previous week and it made her wonder how visible it really was. Whether or not there was a toll someone could only physically take until it showed to the outside world how broken someone really was.

Issac stepped back within the booth, emptying his hands and leaning on the wall almost casually; from this position, he could see Holloway as she spoke. Suddenly, this conversation was more important than shooting practice to him.

“That’s my usual training program, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Holloway finally replied before examining the results of her last round of shots. “I’ve had it since my first posting. The difficulty though… I didn’t program it. And I certainly I wasn’t trying to…” Her voice trailed off and she sighed. Her shoulders slumped slightly.

Issac remained quiet as Holloway spoke; content to listen. He didn’t want to interrupt and derail her story.

“I had a run in on the holodeck a few months ago… where I ended up in Sickbay with a spear through my right leg. That was self destruction. I bumped it all the way to maximum difficulty… never really had used those settings before. I wasn’t expecting the safeties to be off but honestly… I was kind of hoping they would.”

That musta been the previous incident that Reyes was talkin’ about… He noted the phrase ”…kind of hoping they would” with concern, but let her continue.

Holloway set the target distance 5 meters further than her previous mark. She shrugged before continuing. “I was referred to counseling. At the time we had a new Counselor on board… I don’t think we really clicked… She decided that it was in my best interest if some of the difficulty levels of my program were locked away from me temporarily. Unfortunately that includes level 6… the one I usually train at. And yes. Safeties are on, and it’s perfectly safe. Been doing it for several years, and never had any issues.” Holloway shook her head. “Sleep doesn’t come easy since–” She stopped abruptly, almost as if she suddenly realized all she had shared already. “I needed something to distract myself. The lower levels are useless, and the counselor that locked the program is gone. So I thought I’d try to bypass her codes and see where it lead me. That must have been what triggered the intruder alert.” Molly shot Forgrave an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I never meant for you and Jo’han to be caught in the middle of it all. And I certainly never meant for you to get hurt.” She paused, pondering for a moment. “And yes, if you’re wondering why I told you all of this, it’s because I think you deserved an explanation. Thank my sister for that.” Holloway didn’t seem entirely pleased.

Turning to the now farther away target, Holloway checked her earmuffs and her eye protection before firing two shots. The third didn’t come as her weapon ran out of ammunition. Muttering under her breath something about being an airhead, she expediently reloaded her handgun and fired her last shot of the round.

Capt. Holloway, CIO

Issac remained silent for a bit, digesting what Holloway had shared. He didn’t return to shooting however; choosing instead to remain leaning against the wall of the booth.

“I know you hadn’t intended for me an Jo’han to get involved, Ma’am; I got no doubts on that, and I appreciate yer apology. And if I get the chance, I will thank yer sister; seems like she might be a good influence.” Issac paused, uncertainty on his face; not sure how to continue.

Placing her own weapon down and moving to where she could see Forgrave, Molly smiled softly. “I guess. I’ll make sure to pass it along.”

“But I guess I wern’t quite meaning to ask what you were doin’ in the holodeck; more… why?” Searching for the right phrasing, Forgrave fidgeted with a spent casing momentarily before continuing. “I don’ think ‘being bored’ really explains someone spending all night trying to hack into the holodeck, but maybe ‘sleep not coming easy,’ as you put it, touches the issue.”

A quizzical eyebrow raised, as Holloway wondered what point the Security officer was trying to make.

Issac moved his hands into a defensive position as he clarified his perspective. “I ain’t asking you ta spill yer guts to me or nothin; and like I said, I sure ain’t a counselor. But if any member of the crew was doin’ what you seem to be set on… I’d be concerned about them. I know I’m fairly new to this crew, and while I hold expectations of my leadership, perfection ain’t one of them. But I do ask that ya try to take a look at what yer doing to yourself. If not for your own sake, think of the crew that depends on you.”

Think of the crew that depends on you. Molly wasn’t someone that was easily embarrassed by her actions. However, Forgrave’s words made her feel ashamed. He was right. She should have known better. She hadn’t gotten where she was today by spending her time in the holodeck and ignoring the medical advice of the ship she was on.

Issac started fidgeting with the casing again; this time in a unusual display of nervousness. He wasn’t much of one for speeches, and his off-the-cuff admonishment of his superior officer hadn’t been carried by anger this time. “I don’t quite know what I’m asking of ya ma’am, but I don’t think what you’ve been doing is working.”

Ensign Issac Forgrave, Security

“Neither do I…” The words left her lips before she could stop them, and they ended up sounding slightly more wistful than what she had intended. “You’re right. I need to think about the crew.” She chuckled lightly. “What’s funny is that I have told that same piece of advice to several members of the crew in different occasions, but apparently never listened to my own words.” Molly scoffed slightly more in disbelief than anything else.

“Speaking from experience, it’s all too easy to get suck inside yer own head.” Issac’s face twisted into an odd expression; a combination of grin and grimace at some unknown memory. “And once you’re there… It ain’t easy to uh, un-stuck yourself. Outside perspective helps. And if there ain’t no-one there to help… things can go bad.”

“I have come to realize that we all have a breaking point.” Holloway said after a pause. “And I think I found mine… the last few missions have not been easy… and they certainly left their mark.” She shrugged. “We are never really taught how to deal with certain things… At the Farm, they care about making sure you’re resilient and that you won’t blabber information to the wrong people, even if under the hardest of conditions. But they never really tell you about the mental strain that comes afterwards nor how to exactly deal with it. You’ve done your job, so they are happy. Whether you’re happy or not, that’s not their problem. They will just move you along to the next assignment… And if you go around talking to people about a classified mission, then you might very well be out of a job.” Holloway shrugged. “You were not tough enough… or the job took a toll on you… it’s funny, because I’m sure that if they were out there dealing with some of the most vicious species in the galaxy, it would also take a toll on them!” Molly shook her head. “They are just as worthless as Starfleet Command.” The more she spoke, the angrier her words sounds, until the last came out more as a mutter than anything else.

Turning people into tools… and trashing them once they break. Issac idly wondered how much StarFleet Intelligence had to answer for - how many agents were left in the lurch? Issac could maybe justify some of that - the universe was no utopia. But on the whole, the casual disregard for the well-being of supposedly good agents sat poorly with him.

Looking back to her holographic Hackathorn Special laying inside her small booth, and back at Forgrave, Molly shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just dump everything on you. It’s not your fault. It’s just that I joined Starfleet because I believed in it, and the more years go by, the more I convince myself that it was a mistake. I’ll probably never make it to Admiral. Most likely will end up working for my uncle designing starship weapons. If he lets me, that is…” She chuckled quietly at her own words before shrugging again. “You mentioned earlier you had joined Starfleet after your father died…? If you don’t mind me asking… why Starfleet? Why not something else?”

Capt. Holloway, CIO

“Eh, I did ask; think it’d be… poor taste, I suppose; for me to complain about it. After all, wasn’t asking just to hear myself chatter.”

Issac listened with interest to Molly’s dissatisfaction or was it disillusion? with StarFleet, as well as the mention of a family business. Holloway… related to the shipyard, maybe? Issac wasn’t sure; and he decided not to ask for now.

“Why StarFleet? Not a bad question…” Issac’s mind drifted back a few years as he contemplated the question. “I guess it wasn’t completely out of the blue; one of my sisters joined out of high school - she’s out on an exploration ship somewhere, working as a xenobiologist. Ha, mom wasn’t a fan, but Keira ain’t one to change her mind once it’s set.”

“I’d say I had a solid plan ‘fore da died; and like I mentioned earlier, once he passed, I was left basically holding the bag. And my ‘plan’ was… useless.” Issac’s jaw clenched in lingering frustration and anger, and he fiddled with the brass casing as he sought the right words. “I was… angry. And confused. Hurt. I was working during the day, trying to figure out what to do; and… drinking the rest of the time. Wasn’t long before ‘rest of the time’ turned into ‘all of the time’.” He was quiet for a moment, anger fading into shame.

“Well, after a while of that, I ended up getting my ass kicked; somewhat literally, somewhat metaphorically. Much as I didn’t enjoy it at the time, it was what I needed to get my head out of my ass; if you’ll pardon me. Realized I needed ta do something different. After I sobered up, a conversation I had with Keira about StarFleet kept bouncin’ around my head, and I’ll be damned if it didn’t sound appealing.” Issac scoffed; though at nothing in particular.

“Sold the business and applied to the Academy about as fast as I could tie up any loose ends. Starting over sounded mighty nice to me. I felt I needed to get away from the business; and North Carolina. Just being there was.... painful; and it was easy to justify shipping off. I think that was the main draw; bein’ able to start fresh. And bein’ part of ‘something greater than myself,’ as cliche as the phrase is. I needed that - someone depending on me to do my job. As strange as it is, owning the shop gave me too much freedom; at that time in my life, I wanted structure, and I felt StarFleet was as good a place as any to get that.”

Issac let out a deep sigh before finishing his story. “I ain’t gonna lie and say my time in StarFleet’s been perfect; but on the whole I think it was the right call. I don’t regret it, at least. I wanted purpose and structure, and I think I’ve found that so far.”

Ensign Issac Forgrave, Security

“Purpose and structure…” The words left Molly’s lips almost in a sigh as her mind drifted to her days at C.A. Riley.

“Your sister is a xenobiologist?” Holloway asked with interests as she seemed to come back to reality. “My sister is a xenobotanist.” She smiled. “She was just offered a position at the Federation’s Science Council after a couple of years gallivanting around the galaxy. But she prefers firm ground than the blackness of the void.” Molly chuckled, but the joy didn’t reach her eyes. It was as if her mind was still wondering through Forgrave’s last sentence.

“You definitely came to the right place if you wanted structure.” Molly finally said. “But don’t delude yourself as far as purpose is concerned.” She paused, thoughtful. “Don’t get me wrong. Most missions have a purpose. Oftentimes a humanitarian one even, where you get the feeling that you’re doing something for the greater good of all of us. But then one day…” She shook her head. “… you are promoted to Captain and get your own ship. Your own command. You get to sit on the center chair and do what many people would die for…” Her gaze met Forgrave’s. “The universe is your oyster and you go. And then you realize that Starfleet is nothing more than a big marketing stunt. They send you off to do their bidding… and even though their bidding seems to fill some greater purpose, it is often just a political stunt to carry on the political agenda of some Admiral trying to get higher in their career.”

Holloway shrugged. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a Debbie Downer.” She smiled apologetically. “Maybe my personal experience made me too cynical and too skeptical… I hope you never lose your purpose, Forgrave. And I hope Starfleet ends up being everything you imagine it to be. Just be weary, that’s all.” Molly paused again, but it was clear that there was something else in her mind.

“Can I ask you something personal?” Holloway asked after mulling for a moment. “If you don’t mind… It’s probably going to sound strange but I think you’re the only person I’ve met that has been in this particular situation. You mentioned drinking. What made you start and what does it take to stop?” Her eyes widened suddenly as she realized exactly how her question could be misunderstood. “Not… Not that I…” Holloway waved her hands frantically. “Not that I have a drinking problem… I don’t. I don’t drink.” She said nervously. “And again, you don’t have to reply if you don’t want to. It’s just… I happen to know someone and I am just trying to understand.”

Capt. Holloway, CIO