Counselor, Priest, Bartender, Jerk

Posted on 14 Oct 2018 @ 6:11am by Verity Thorne & Lieutenant Lake ir-Llantrisant

3,133 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Episode 17 - Crystal of Life
Location: USS Galileo-A - Deck 3, Counseling Office
Timeline: MD -179 - 0900 hours

ON:

Coming to a stop in front of the office, Verity glanced down to his leg with a soft breath. He refused to use the stupid cane out and about. He couldn't wait until he could get rid of it completely. He'd burn it. With everything that had happened, he hadn't had chance for a meeting with the Chief Counsellor. It seemed in this cruise he would fall under him, so it was well over due. He should have found him sooner.

From the other side of the door panel, a voice called out, "Uhh... Uh... Enter." In response, the door receded into the bulkhead, opening the entryway to the private office. The most noticeable thing was the loud, melodic music spilling out into the corridor. Due to an earlier muffled command to the computer, the music faded down to nothing. The second-most noticeable thing was the awkward posture of Lieutenant Lake ir-Llantrisant. His left hip was popped to one side and his arms were in the air. Clearly, Lake was mid-dance party of one. Regardless of how he was feeling, he shook it off, assuming a stance akin to parade rest.

Eyebrow peaked, Lake asked, "Can... I... help you?"

Verity grinned at the glimpse into this man's life he had stumbled across, unable to help himself. He was pretty sure he could like anyone who loved music. "You're the Chief Counsellor, yes? I'm Verity Thorne, the Chaplain on Galileo."

"Verity. Ver-ity. Verrrity," Lake replied, experimenting with the sensation of that name on his tongue. He blinked hard and squared his shoulders, realizing that Verity was still standing there, impassive at the aperture. "May your day be filled with peace," Lake said, falling back upon the traditional Romulan greeting. "Yes, I'm Lake ir-Llantrisant," he said; "Please, come in."

Verity smiled at the invite, nodding as he made his way to a chair, not quite as nimble as the dancer. "Hope I didn't interrupt anything....special...?"

In a welcoming gesture, Lake swept a hand towards the empty chair. "Every moment," Lake affirmed, "on this side of vacuum is precious." Lake padded his own way over to an upholstered arm chair that was facing the one Verity favoured. "A moment can't be interrupted," he said, "only joined."

"I like that philosophy," Verity admitted with a wide smile, his eyes shining with warmth as he joined him. "It makes the universe seem a little smaller, and a little less lonely."

At that, he nodded back at Verity with a slight smile. Lake tilted his head down, eyeing the seat-cushion he was about to sit on. "How often, would you say," Lake asked, "the universe feels lonely?"

"Now and then, just like it is for most people I suspect," Verity shook his head as he shifted to get more comfortable with his leg. "There's always plenty to do though....activity groups, meetings, workshops. You know how it is."

"In fact," Lake said, once he lowered himself into the armchair, "I don't know how it is." --Shaking his head, an uncommon expression of vulnerability crossed his expression-- "Until the past couple of months, I've always served aboard starbases. There doesn't seem to be much to do aboard starships at night?"

Verity blinked with mild surprise at the words, tilting his head as he considered Lake. "I'm not sure you're talking about choirs, or I'd invite you to join..." he said, with just a touch of teasing, but a good natured smile.

Narrowing his eyes on Verity in consideration, Lake tilted his head from one side to the other. "I... might..." Lake said in a slow sing-song, "enjoy a choir." He shrugged at his own sentiment, entirely untrue of the truth within it. "It's been a lifetime since I sang publicly," Lake said. He leaned forward, looking right in Verity's eyes. Lake asked, "Are you sure you wouldn't invite me to join a moment with you?"

Verity was unable to hide his surprise at the directness of the other man. But he didn't break the gaze, holding it steadily with a calm smile. "That would depend on what kind of moment you're talking about," he said lightly. Having spent so many years in the priesthood, he wasn't as adept with this sort of thing, and he didn't want to assume. There was only so much embarrassment he was willing to take.

"A multitude of moments are possible," Lake replied. Smirking at Verity, Lake shook his head and he said, "I would never limit myself to only one."

Verity couldn't help but smile at the words, his eyes shining with warmth as he glanced down. This man seemed so...free. "Is that why you're out here? Exploring the universe? Pushing boundaries?"

Once Verity's warm gaze drifted away from Lake, the smile on Lake's face took on a hollow quality. His view of the universe and his own experience, and his place in that universe, was largely unchanged by the events of the past year. Sometimes, only sometimes, Lake didn't know how to apply that perspective to his given situations. "That would be," Lake said haltingly, "Wouldn't that be lovely? To know that feeling, that conviction, of knowing exactly what you want? I imagine every bit of dissonance would fall away if I could align my Starfleet mission so precisely with my personal goals for exploration..."

Lake shook his head. Despite the negative affirmation he was offering with the shaking of his head, there was an authentic quality to his smile that returned. There came a certainty and a peace in knowing things. "No," Lake said, "I'm out here because I can't go home."

Verity was silent for a long moment, the words seeping in. They made his breath shake for just a beat. Maybe it was the nerve they hit. He sat back slowly, taking a long, deep, tired breath, chuckling weakly as he shook his head. "Home is wherever you lay your hat," he said quietly.

"Could be, could be," Lake replied. Nodding at Verity's words, Lake frowned in an expression of begrudging agreement. In this moment, in this context, he didn't take notice of how this topic was personal for Verity too. "Maybe this place will feel like home once I stop running away, and find something to run towards." After shrugging with one shoulder, Lake gestured at Verity with the wave of a hand.

"Why did you tell Captain Saalm you wanted to blast off to the middle of the unknown?" Lake asked, his expression opening with a universe of curiosity.

"I was keen to get back to the Galileo," Verity admitted honestly, shrugging with a soft laugh at himself. "I know it's not the same, but...well. I felt like I'd abandoned the crew, a lot of which are on the new ship," he shook his head at how it sounded. "I know, it sounds silly. But when I was taken ill, I thought it would be a quick trip to Sickbay and I'd be back on my feet and back to work the same day. It's a shock when things work out differently. I...feel the need to get back to..." he stopped. His parish? He inwardly shook his head at himself with a frown. "Work," he said instead.

"Which one of those do you feel has the greatest pull on you?" Lake asked. He tried his best to make sense of what Verity had shared with him. He sat with what Verity had said; he tried to digest it. Lake could tell there was a raw vulnerability shining between the lines, but he couldn't quite identify the shape of it yet. "What remains of the old Galileo's crew, or the icon of Galileo herself, or your... work?"

Verity fell silent, wanting to give the question proper thought. "Work," he finally replied with a weak smile, shrugging lightly. "That sounds so shallow..." he shook his head at himself. "I don't mean it to be. People and my work....they're the same thing to me. It's...what I'm here for. Here, in this life," he gave another shrug, chuckling softly. "Bet you wish you hadn't asked now."

Narrowing his eyes at Verity in confusion, Lake shook his head once and shook his head twice. "What could possibly," Lake asked, frowning slightly, "make me wish for a thing like that?"

"My rambling replies?" Verity suggested but with a good natured smile, shaking his head. "I suppose, even after all this time, I still miss the priesthood," he shrugged at himself, at what he was saying.

Raising his hand lazily, Lake rested his chin in the open palm of his hand. "What do you miss most," Lake asked, utterly enthralled, "about your priesthood?"

Looking to the viewport, Verity frowned as he just stared out for a long moment. The truth made him sound vain and prideful. But he would never lie. "Having a sense of purpose," he admitted quietly. "Knowing who and what I belonged to. Knowing that I was in this world to serve."

"When you put it like that," Lake said, sharing his observation in a tentative manner, "it doesn't sound like you lost your vocation in the priesthood." With one hand, Lake closed the distance between them, and he gently clutched at Verity's wrist. Sharing his opinion, Lake said, "It sounds like you've lost your faith entirely?"

Verity swallowed hard at the words, at the emotions they brought, looking to the hand before covering it with his own. "It was difficult," he admitted in a near whisper. "There were times when I felt like it would never come back. But it's...there again. Not as...strong, not as unblemished. But it's there again. It's just a struggle sometimes."

"From everything you're telling me," Lake said, "you're not living a life without faith." Lake stroked the back of Verity's hand twice and then he pulled away, leaning back into his armchair. All the while, he never broke eye-contact with Verity; Lake hardly even blinked. "How would you describe the faith you have," Lake asked, "in the Galileo?"

Verity smiled at the turn in the questioning, fondness clear in his eyes as he rubbed his knee slowly. "It seems strange to say it, considering the sometimes...stressful situations the ship found itself in, but it feels good to be able to work with a crew who are out here for a great purpose. We're not out here to patrol or as a show of strength...we are here to learn and explore. So if I can help the crew do that, even in a small, indirect way, that's good with me."

While Lake may have slipped into his counseling persona for a moment, he shifted his perspective again. The posture of his shoulders shifted in kind. Lake spoke to Verity as a colleague, curious about what to expect about their potential patients. "Have your crew, the Galileo crew, always been explorers? Is this more of what they've always done?"

"Pretty much," Verity nodded with a fond smile before chuckling at thinking back over some of the more outlandish events that had befallen them in the past. "True...trouble seems to follow us how a cat stalks a mouse, but it usually starts innocently and well enough..."

"...And then ...trouble," Lake said, surmising the pattern soon enough. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but Lake just frowned. It was a deep frown. It accentuated his brow ridges. "Have I just made a huge mistake, coming aboard Galileo?"

Verity couldn't help but laugh at the question, sitting back comfortably as he looked him up and down, as if to take in the soul of him. "Well that depends entirely on what kind of person you are....whether you see it as trouble...or adventure."

"I see it as a duty," Lake said emphatically, as if to correct Verity. No part of him shied away from Verity's evaluating gaze. Lake rolled his arms back and sat comfortably there; he might as well have been naked, for all the difference it would have made in his posture. "I live in service to Starfleet," Lake affirmed.

Verity glanced down briefly, almost as if giving him a moment before finally looking back to him. "I...haven't met many Romulans in Starfleet," he said lightly, casually, almost an open question for him to fill, if he wished...or to be dismissed if he preferred.

"My family defected to the Federation during the cold war," Lake replied, referring to that period of time after the Romulans ended their galactic isolation and before the Dominion War. There was no hesitancy to Lake's tale; it was clearly one he had told before. "I was a refugee, placed on an undesirable Federation colony, too close to the Cardassian border. As I came of age, I discovered the Romulan Star Empire wasn't hiring Federation citizens" --Lake placed a hand on his chest to indicate himself-- "to captain their warbirds."

Verity nodded slowly as he listened, pieces starting to fall into place about the other man. "But Starfleet did," he said softly with a smile, rubbing his hands gently together. It was easy to see how he would feel such a strong sense of duty to the people who had accepted him and given him a place to thrive and belong.

"Only Starfleet," Lake reaffirmed, and it was perhaps the only moment of reverence for the institution that he allowed to show through his mixed feelings about the United Federation of Planets. "Without an education history from a Federation world..." --Lake shrugged helplessly, but he smirked-- "I was building a career as a bartender. Everyone has opportunities in the Federation," he remarked.

Verity nodded as he looked down to his hands. Some more than others. He'd worked with enough people whose paths had derived from as equally difficult backgrounds as Lake's, and hadn't had such a good ending. "Then you understand how it feels," he said softly. "To serve. The sense of duty that comes with it," he shook his head slowly.

"I owe Starfleet my life, my entire life," Lake replied. There was a greater intensity coming through what he said. His dark eyes locked on Verity, his words were punctuated by staccato emphasis. And then he shrugged again. "My undying service seems very little to offer in return."

"Little?" Verity said softly with surprise at the word, searching the gaze as he leant in closer to him. "A man's life...a man's soul...isn't a 'little' thing," he replied, his eyes full of sincerity as he smiled gently. "It is the most valuable thing a person can ever offer or give in this life."

Raising a finger to make a point, Lake countered with, "Ah, but my soul is still my own. Starfleet made a life for me, but it only asks for my body." Again, there was a flare of intensity behind his eyes at the distinction he was making. "My soul remains my own."

Verity tilted his head with interest at the clear distinction he made between those two things. He shook his head, holding the intense eyes as he smiled gently. "I understand now. For me...a life is a soul....a soul is life."

Lake had nodded at that. He had certainly known many people in his life who saw the universe in the same way as Verity. "And how do you imagine your life aboard Galileo?" Lake asked, as the closest thing Verity would have to a supervisor or a department head in his career. "What will you need to do your good work?"

"Well, I used to run some groups...different activities, like music and history, that sort of thing. I'd like to start them up again," Verity nodded slowly as he thought it through. "I think they're important, to bring people together, but also give people a few hours escape when real life is too much." They also helped Verity to feel useful, like he was actively working with the crew. He'd run a number of different drop in sessions back on Earth when he'd been a priest. Some just fun and creative like those on the ship, others more serious. It gave him direction and focus, as a chaplain on a ship of science.

"Curating experiences for the crew, giving them the opportunity to share meaningful interactions... it's immensely powerful," Lake agreed with Verity's premise and his plan. "Make it happen, Verity. Whatever resources you need, whatever support you need from me, I'll make it available to you," Lake said with assuredness. A further glint flashed behind his eyes, when he said, "Just look at the crew launch party. Can you imagine how much more extra it could have been if the Captain had given me more than a few hours to prepare?"

"Hm..." Verity leant back in his chair as if considering it seriously for a long moment, nodding slowly and sagely...until the nodding changed to shaking his head. "No...perhaps it was safer the way it was..."

Snorting at that, Lake leaned back in his chair and waited for the abrupt laugh to pass. Even then, he could only shake his head in pantomime disappointment, and say, "Verity Thorne is a jerk."

Verity laughed warmly, shaking his head with disbelief as he threw his hands up in the air. "I have been called many things in my life, but I can honestly say, I've never been called that. Not to my face at least. Thank you for the confidence building new experience," he teased.

"It's my purpose in life. It's my calling," Lake replied. He shrugged helplessly, as if it all came to him as naturally as breathing. "I wouldn't be doing my job as your department head," Lake assured him dryly, "if I wasn't undermining your confidence."

"It also ensures that at some point, I'm going to need your services as a counsellor, so it's drumming up work for you," Verity let out a slight whistle, shaking his head. "Clever. Almost Machiavellian."

"We've got six months in the dark ahead of us," Lake said as an ominous reminder. "No strange new worlds, no new civilizations until we reach Regula One. Won't it be more interesting to work with a borderline-immoral Machiavellian?"

"Hm, you have a point," Verity had to admit, shaking his head as he rubbed the back of his neck with a slight chuckle before getting a playful smile. "I can even try to save your soul...." he teased.


[OFF]

Lieutenant Lake ir-Llantrisant
Chief Counselor
USS Galileo-A

CH Verity Thorne
Chaplain
USS Galileo-A

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