Prison Without Bars

Posted on 26 Feb 2018 @ 1:15pm by Petty Officer 3rd Class Constantin Vansen & Lieutenant Lake ir-Llantrisant

3,019 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Episode 15 - Emanation
Location: USS Hathaway - Mess Hall
Timeline: MD 93 - 1230 hours

[ON]

A casual observer might have thought Lake ir-Llantrisant was on the lookout for his lunch. He had stepped into the mess hall on uncertain feet. To really look at his expression as he examined the layout of tables and chairs, Lake looked as if he were that nerdy kid on the first day of high school. For just a moment, his eyes lit up. Lake turned towards the wall of replicators, noticeable with their strangely archaic interface designs. Unlike modern-day LCARS, the user interfaces favoured blues and greens and circular patterns. One would assume he was striding towards the replicators to ask for his luncheon, when, in reality, he was planning to ask a wholly other person for a wholly other thing.

"What did you end up building for me?" Lake asked, mostly playfully, to the back of the head of a man who was lined up for the replicator. He clapped the man on the shoulder in greeting.

Constantin Vansen grinned easily to Lake, his blue eyes warm. he reached out, his hand going to Lake's shoulder in a similar greeting. "An engine," he said easily. "It's actually with me. A miniature steam engine. I'll build a ship around it. I was reading up on these ancient ways of transport that Earth had. Steam ships. Imagine, heating up water to create power."

Shaking his head, his eyes wide with wonderment, Lake said, "I really can't imagine." --He squinted slightly as a mental image came to him-- "Unless maybe there's a steam engine hidden at the heart of Hathaway." --And he chuckled, but only briefly-- "How does it feel to be back aboard a starship?"

"Feels good," Constantin said with a warm smile, nodding almost eagerly. "You know, I got the stars around me, the hull of the ship. And she's a good girl really. She's sturdy. Not perfect but I don't need perfect to be in space." He chuckled and motioned to the replicator. "Even this makes me rather happy. I got work, I got my shift pattern and I might even get to annoy some future officers. What is there not to like? But what about you? Good to be on a ship again?"

Lake put a beaming grin on his face. More than anything, he didn't want to dampen Constantin's good mood. The change he could see in Constantin since their first interaction as counselor-and-patient was immense, and Lake had no desire to change that. All the same, Lake wasn't on duty. He leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice to a sultry timbre, even though he was saying, "I don't know that I like anything about starship assignments. I find them claustrophobic. I grew up in an orchard." --There was an absurd dissonance in the way he could say unpleasant things with a sense of pleasure in his voice-- "I've never... actually... been assigned to a starship for more than a few weeks. I had prepared an application for one the other night and then I deleted it."

Constantin's eyes were gentle as he moved closer, nodding weakly. "I can see that. But you have nothing to fear except fear itself. You don't like feeling caged. I understand that. But if you always avoid it, how will you get over the fear?" he smiled and gently squeezed his shoulder. "I'll have your back on this assignment. I am good on ships. I'll make sure you are okay."

Acknowledging Constantin's affirmations, Lake nodded liberally, saying, "okay," "right," and "okay," when it was appropriate. Even for all the support Constantin was offering, Lake really wasn't prepared to commit to enjoying this posting, nor to look for another starship posting. All he was prepared to do, really, was say, "Can I ask you a question?"

Constantin looked at him with surprise before he chuckled, giving him a small and reassuring smile. "Of course you can. I'll answer it."

Lake opened his mouth, but no question came out immediately. His eyes tracked upwards, staring down the ceiling as he considered the most meaningful way to ask the question that was weighing on him. Finally, Lake looked Constantin in the eye, and he asked, "What do you do? At night? On a starship?"

Constantin watched his face, not lacking or mocking or teasing. It was a serious question. It deserved a serious answer. "Depends on what you enjoy. I know some people find it difficult to sleep on a starship. In the silence there's a constant...hum. I...like to try and wind down. I sit and have a hot drink, watching the stars. And then, in bed...I wrap myself up in the covers. Like a cocoon. It helps. I know some people just...have someone sleeping next to them. To have that breathing noise over the slight sound a ship makes."

Almost immediately, Lake felt a warmth spreading through his chest. Those words, the painted a mental picture in his head of Constantin making himself cozy in Lake's bed. But that was only Lake's first impression. The picture in his head cracked. His imagination created a pantomime in his head, as if Lake had found Kellin Nertlinge dead in his bed. And of course, there was Ofred, watching from the corner of the room. Always watching.

The verdant vitality in Lake's skin visibly faded. His face blanched, his whole expression reducing to the wince one produces from a feeling like a dull toothache. "I haven't been sleeping well," Lake said sadly. He stood there --four paces away from the replicators-- and his posture deflated. His whole being became smaller. An engineering cadet pushed past Lake to make her own way to the replicators. Lake swayed with the gentle shove, but he held his footing. "I had grown accustomed to sleeping alone," Lake said tonelessly, "It's been a year, almost, since my marriage ended. A year is-- a year is plenty of time. But my hus-- Kellin got killed this week. Killed in the line of duty." He winced again. Saying the words out loud felt like swallowing glass.

Constantin watched him with surprise before he reached out, his hand gently touching the other man's cheek. "I'm so sorry," he said, his voice quiet. It tore at his heart to hear it...to hear that something like that happened to this man. That he was grieving. "Maybe...you'd like to sit down with me and tell me about him?" There was hope there. He wanted Lake to talk to him. Maybe remembering the good things would help...not the grief, the grief was there as a hot and heavy lump in the chest that would never leave. But maybe the memories would make Lake smile.

"When I think about him too hard, I wonder if I ever really knew him, you know?" Lake said. There was a stillness to the Romulan's form, and a sense of regret weighing down his words, but there was no clouding the anger behind his eyes. Then he nodded at Constantin's suggested, and moved towards the nearest table. He moved quickly, with intention. "The way he acted at the end," Lake said, by way of explaining why he never really knew his husband, "None of it was consistent with all the things I thought were true about Kellin."

Constantin sat down as he watched him, his body language open, leaning closer to the other man as he gave a weak nod. "What was different?" he asked quietly, curious.

Leading in towards Constantin too, Lake lowered himself into the chair right beside him. He didn't answer right away. Leading with his shoulders, he shifted his weight on the seat. He fidgeted with the placemat. He had to think about it; didn't immediately know how to put his intention into words. It had been months since he had dwelled upon the dissolution of his marriage. As far as Lake was consciously aware, he had put those crying babies to bed, and yet they had shouted out of him awfully suddenly.

"Kellin could be unkind," Lake said, eventually. The timbre of his voice sounded brittle; he felt guilty talking about the departed this way. "Compromise wasn't something he valued. If anything didn't go his way, he could be unkind. And our relationship certainly didn't look the way he wanted it to look." --Lake shook his head-- "I keep mistaking niceness for kindness. He would sculpt gifts for his colleagues, he would write posting applications for total strangers, and yet he didn't speak to his sister for over a year, because of some nonsense she said to him once in haste."

Constantin watched him, eyes gentle, expression relaxed and calm. He listened to the voice, the way he spoke. "Family can be complicated," he said, which he supposed was true even if he had never come from a conventional family. He didn't remember his own family being difficult. It was because he had always obeyed. His father had also been his Captain. "You know, just because you recognise the less stellar bits of him doesn't mean you didn't love him." He grimaced the second he had said it, because it sounded childish to his ears. He had meant to be reassuring and instead he sounded...he wasn't sure.

And Constantin's uncertainty was likely well placed, because Lake was inspired to respond quickly with an, "I loved him," and he looked to Constantin imploringly. "I did." Lake nodded, and he licked his lips when he looked down at the surface of the table again. "I question how well I knew him," Lake explained, "and I mourn that I can never find out now." His voice went very small then, when he said, "I don't even know how he died. Starfleet won't tell me."

"I know not knowing is a bit difficult...but usually, you don't want to know the details anyway," Constantin said with a weak smile. "Take my word for that. Half the time they're not entirely sure anyway, what with all that can happen. Or if it happened when doing something classified, well...can't tell you that either. No. Doesn't change the facts though. And I am sorry for it..." he reached out, touching his hand, rubbing it for a moment as he held his eyes.

When he felt Constantin rubbing the back of his hand, Lake looked up from his diffident posture. Lake said, "thank you," for Constantin's sympathies, and he tried to say, "I--" but whatever he wanted to say felt too heavy in his throat. "Thank you," Lake said again, and he rested his other hand on the back of Constantin's.

Constantin let out a breath as he watched him before he nodded. "And if you need someone to talk to...or drink with...or anything...well, I am here for awhile," he said before he winked, wanting to cheer him up.

"I will need that," Lake affirmed, looking Constantin straight in the eyes. He didn't even blink until he finished talking. "I promise you. It's proving increasingly difficult to behave as something of a role model to these cadets when my head feels like a starving rat's nest."

"Oh, we are meant to be role models?" Constantin's widened with shock and he sat back. And then he smiled and winked. "Look. Role models or not, the best thing we can do for these cadets is to show them honestly what life is like on a starship. Not everyone will be nice. And you? I understand you want to be a good role model, but you need to take care of yourself a bit too. Be selfish. Do something just for you."

Smiling at that, Lake said, "Oh, I have no qualms about being selfish. It isn't frowned upon in Romulan culture the way it is in the Federation." --He swept a hand out, vaguely indicating everyone else in the room-- "But that brings me back to where I started. I don't know what to do on a starship. There's no art, there's no culture..."

"No...true..." Constantin clearly took a moment to think about it before he smiled. "But...there are the stars. That too is art...and music. There is music we can listen to. I love music, I can't believe I never knew music before..." he squeezed his hand with a grin. "We could find a quiet viewport and listen to music and talk?"

"I would like that," Lake said, making the affirmation with a serious nod. He leaned closer to Constantin, touching shoulder-to-shoulder, and then leaning back. "I would like that very much," he said. "In fact, the first thing we can talk about is how you never knew music before? How is that even possible?"

"My parents thought they'd change the world by buying an old rustbucket of a ship and taking what they needed and hitting space. Music just took place on the database. Same with fiction," Constantin said and took Lake's arm to walk with him, chuckling. "Of course, they also forgot that if you have enough sex without protection, there might be a kid showing up 9 months later."

Constantin dragged Lake up onto his feet and Lake eagerly followed him into the corridor. Even so, Lake fell behind slightly; he could feel Constantin tugging him by the crook of his arm. Lake was falling behind because he was lost in his own head. He had to think about it, really think about the kind of life Constantin had described. It wasn't something he could imagine easily. A little too softly, Lake said, "We used to sleep outside, in the warmer months, and have sing-a-longs. Singing competitions, even."

Then, Lake stared off into the middle distance. He wasn't even watching where Constantin was leading him. Lake shook his head and he said, "Oof. Even so, I think I could live without music before I could live without sex."

Constantin laughed warmly as he led him, shaking his head. He found a quiet viewport, hidden a little away and he sat down on the floor to watch the stars. "Sex came to me in my 20s," he said after a long moment's silence. "It's...nice."

An exaggerated frown puffed out Lake's lips in what he hoped Constantin would read in an expression of humour. "Nice?" he asked, while he watched Costantin make himself comfortable on the floor. Raising his index finger, Lake waggled it in Constantin's direction, when he said, "If sex has been nice, you've been doing it wrong," and he joined Constantin on the floor. He sat close enough, their thighs were touching.

Constantin chuckled as he looked at him, tilting his head slightly. "Believe it or not, I can be awkward. Half of it is...more me, I think. It's nice. It's good. I enjoy it. But the stuff you hear in Academy mess halls? Nah. Not experienced that yet. But then again, love is...not something I have felt. Not in love love."

"Never never?" Lake asked, cocking his head back in surprise. His expression evolved through a gamut of emotions. At first, it looked as if Lake simply misheard Constantin, but when Constantin didn't correct him, Lake's mug moved on to real shock. "Not ever?" he asked, as if Constantin had told him he had lived without oxygen for the past three decades. Probably coming out to callous, Lake's words fell out of his mouth too quickly: "I've been falling in love since I was thirteen. How long were you alone on that boat with your parents?"

"Until I was 15. And then a few years in a facility as they...made it possible for me to function on a planet. Doctors, nurses...that sort," Constantin said softly, a wry smile suddenly on his lips before he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "The whole...puberty thing...was more like a medical condition for me. I read the information they gave me and processed it like that. There was no...real...understanding of it all. I was in my early twenties when I suddenly saw what people meant about...attraction. Men, women...how beautiful people are in so many different ways."

Plucking a slim PADD from the holster on his belt, Lake tapped the few contacts necessary to play the last song he'd played. The volume low, a folksy electroclash by D'Tan sang out from the PADD itself and the nearest communication nodes. Tilting his head towards Constantin, Lake felt compelled to ask, "What was the change your parents hoped to see in their environment -- without music?"

"They didn't think so far to that. They were...embracing a different life. And the ship they got had limited computer capacity so they filled the databanks with manuals rather than music and stuff..." he shrugged, listening to the music. "And they didn't plan on having a kid in space."

Struggling to articulate his thoughts into words, Lake shook his head and he studied Constantin's blue eyes. He opened his mouth and words still didn't come initially. "I don't know if I have that kind of bravery," Lake finally said. "Blasting off into the dark: no destination, no course, no figurative inertial dampers."

Constantin looked at him before he smiled gently. "I am not sure either, if I could have done it..." he admitted after a moment. "They just desired freedom. But...freedom can sometimes be a rope to hang yourself with."

"That's what I say," Lake affirmed with a gentle nod. "The bloody Borg have it easy sometimes..."

Constantin smiled as he leant close, nodding as he listened. "Even so...we would never trade this for anything," he breathed, a soft promise or prayer.

Leaning in closer too, Lake narrowed his eyes in consideration. He mulled it over in his mind, and he said, "I haven't been able to think of another kind of life I'd rather have..."

[OFF]

Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Lake ir-Llantrisant
Chief Counselor
USS Hathaway

Petty Officer 3rd Class Constantin Vansen
Operations
USS Hathaway

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