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CO's Ready Room (tag James Mason)

Posted Jan. 13, 2021, 8:55 p.m. by Lieutenant Junior Grade James Mason (Chief Engineer) (Jeremiah Bullock)

Posted by Captain Molly Holloway (Commanding Officer) in CO’s Ready Room (tag James Mason)

Posted by Lieutenant Priscilla Simms (Chief Science Officer) in CO’s Ready Room (tag James Mason)

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade James Mason (Chief Engineer) in CO’s Ready Room (tag James Mason)
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻

SNIP

Molly’s gaze shifted from the terminal in front of her to the Ensign at the door. “Ah, Mason, yes. Come on in.” Her tone was polite, but there was a hint of dryness behind it. “Please, take a seat.” Holloway motioned to the chair across from her on the other side of the desk.

The room itself was not intimidating, perhaps unexpectedly so, when it came to Holloway. From the door, the working desk occupied the center of the right wall, with a few of Molly’s personal belongings displayed on its surface – a blue mug with the letters UCLA printed in yellow, an old and battered copy of Jules Verne’s Journey to the center of the Earth, a round glass terrarium, and a picture of Holloway herself and Colonel Calvin Harris happily resting on the green grass of a park. On the far corner, light wooden shelves filled the wall, containing mostly old books as well as souvenirs brought from different places. A handful of small glass terrariums of different shapes filled empty spaces and some other hung from the shelves, making the corner a greener space than the remainder of the room. Across from the desk, on the left side of the room, there was a small sitting area, with a couch, an armchair, and a coffee table. Much like the desk and chairs, they were standard Starfleet issue. Above the couch, a reproduction of one of the many paintings by Claude Monet featuring waterlilies, embellished the wall.

“Care for anything from the replicator?” Molly asked nonchalantly, but her eyes followed Mason’s every movement. It was clear that she was putting on an effort to appear calm and collected, or at least just civil. Was she trying to put their previous encounter behind them? Or was it all just pretense?

Holloway, CO

The way that a person kept their office space told a story about themselves Mason had come to learn. His own space was already gaining that clutter that came from running from one problem to the next without fully tidying behind himself. The CO’s office though told a story about a woman who loved nature and plants through the terrariums, paintings and even picture. The old books let him know that she enjoyed the feel of paper, and more than that probably collected them as a hobby.

He slipped into the chair, and then took a moment to adjust himself. Regulation chairs weren’t made for those of more barrelchested frames. Still, it was time to face the music as it were.

“No thank you ma’am,” he demurred politely. “My petty officer is already trying to bribe me with coffee so I’m all hydrated.”

There was an involuntary twitch on the corner of Holloway’s lips, almost as if she had found Mason’s words funny but was trying to conceal it.

He paused and then decided to not test field for landmines, and instead try to make things civil at the very least. “Looks like you’re a fan of the outdoors and plants ma’am. Do you garden at all?”
Ensign Mason, Engineering

Alright, Molly thought. She’d take the bait. Even though it felt like they were both walking on eggshells, it was probably for the better.

“The outdoors, yes. Plants…” Holloway hesitated for a moment as she looked around at her shelves. “… they tend to die under my watch. So to answer your question, no. Gardening is something better suited to someone else.” Her eyes returned to the officer in front of her, sitting on the opposing side of the desk. “If you’re referring to the terrariums, my sister makes them and sends them way too often. They are pleasant to look at, and as you pointed out, they make the space a little more outdoorsy, if you will. Besides, many of them are self sufficient, and require little to no maintenance. The ones that don’t, well… if they end up dying I’ll just replace them with the ones my sister will inevitably send next week.” There was a smile, but it didn’t quite reach Holloway’s eyes. A tell that she hadn’t forgotten their previous interactions, but rather that she was willing to put them behind her. For now.

“What about you, Mr. Mason. Are you more of an outdoor or indoor person? Most people would assume that given your choice of Department, you’d like to stay inside. But I understand that appearances can be deceiving at times.” The sentence was harmless, but Molly’s tone carried in such a way that a paranoid person like Holloway herself might read it as an insinuation. Whether purposefully or not, it was not apparent.

Holloway, CO

Mason was quietly amused that the tough as nails CO across from him had such a issue gardening, but it was also understandable. The work load of ship’s commander was no joke at all, and there was always one more thing to do. Even as just an Ensign it seemed like the paperwork never ended just for his small share of the ship. A few dead plants sacrificed in the name of keeping the ship running smoothly was both understandable while still entertaining.

However, the sharp undertones in his superior’s voice reminded him that things weren’t… peachy keen as his father used to say. While Captain Holloway was a CO, she was a spook first, and everyone knew once a spook, always a spook. The black shirts he’d run into had a tendency to have long memories and burning need to know everything about their mission. He unfortunately had made himself a secret, a mystery within a spook’s domain of influence. Not only that, but he was now in the black shirt’s lair, and would have to watch his step.

“Well ma’am, I have to say I’m more of a tinkering person. Doesn’t matter if its indoors, outdoors, in the void, or in the engine room, I just want to have my hands on something that needs fixing. ” He said, and then before he could think better of it decided to spice the conversation up a bit. “I do make sure to leave my deceiving garb behind until the witching hours though ma’am. Tends to add an air of mystery to the thing I’m about to go fix.”

Ensign Mason, Engineering

If it had been any other person, Molly would have laughed. Or smiled. Or shown any other outward expression of amusement. Instead, she did none, and if anything her features seemed to harden every so slightly.

It was a good thing that the officer Holloway was about to promote to lead the Dresden’s Engineering department had a passion for tinkering with things. Molly had heard similar statements from many other Engineers over time, including their former Executive Officer. She had never understood it, and she doubted she ever would. But in Mason’s case, the worrisome part in Molly’s opinion, was not so much that he liked to tinker with things, but rather, what did he like to tinker with. Their previous encounter and his ties with the Maquis (at least the way Holloway perceived them, but not that she would ever admit to perceive something the wrong way), made the matter even more complicated.

Nothing bad about Mason had ever reached Molly’s ears in the time the Engineer had served on board the ship. He was good at his job and that was it. However, as Chief Engineer he would be working directly under Renveer, and Holloway hoped that would allow her to keep a closer eye on the officer.

“Are you suggesting I should tighten ship’s security during the night hours?” Molly smiled this time, but the scorn on her lips was evident, even though her tone was calm and collected. It was clear that she was trying he best to keep the conversation from slipping from her grasp the same way it had the first time they met. “I didn’t take you for a joker, Mr. Mason. Especially not after how our last meeting went… But maybe I’m wrong?”

Holloway, CO

Mason knew that he should simply let things lie. To settle things down with the CO before even more bad blood and misunderstandings got into the mix. Having a commanding officer gunning for his hide on a long trip was a quick way to end up blackballed or worse in the service.

There was just one little problem. He knew, but that didn’t mean he was going to do that. On the contrary, something about the Captain’s tone scratched at his rebel hackles. He knew it was a horrible lingering habit from his upbringing in the Demilitarized Zone, but it was something every DMZ dweller could understand. That was why they were all out there after all. Authority looming down at them just made it easier to spite in their eye.

“Well, a touch of security is never a bad idea ma’am,” the engineer replied with a light tone. His eyes remained hard though. “Last meeting reminded me of the deep roots of buffoonery those of us living in the DMZ are known for, and I simply can’t let the tradition die. One of the last pieces of home as it were.”

“Still, more security means that I’d need to tuck away the deceiving robe extra well,” Mason said. “Wouldn’t want security getting too worried.”

Ensign Mason, Engineering

(OOC: Mason, sttttaaaahhhhp)


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