The Familiar
Posted on 23 Apr 2023 @ 11:45am by Lieutenant Commander Limmi Ovim & Lieutenant Sibyl Danzer
Edited on on 06 May 2023 @ 9:28pm
Mission:
M3 - Into the Deep
Location: Obsidian Command
Timeline: MD08, 2000 hrs
2174 words - 4.3 OF Standard Post Measure
"No. . .not sensing an overly personal attachment at all," intoned Limmi to her husband through the venerable, ever-evolving means of subspace communications. Samson Prisk was literally stationed on the opposite end of Federation space, yet his crisply uniformed likeness and that of his office resided on her wall screen in high definition.
"We're reusing random ship names from the past century," he chuckled at Limmi, who was of far less formal presentation. Attentively perched on her recently rematerialized couch, she wore a dark blue sweatshirt denotive of her Academy Parisses Squares team participation over dark leggings. "Why not Easley?"
It was a peculiar question considering both knew that the Secretary of Starfleet's recent proclivity of retrogressive ship names was intended to evoke resurrection from the destruction wrought upon Mars twelve years prior. Hence the exasperated undertone in Limmi's voice as she otherwise simply answered, "Because there's still one."
"That could change soon," Samson countered. "Command is looking at moving the Ambassadors into mothballs at the turn of the century. Personal bias aside, I get it. They're big, resource-intensive platforms rooted in old doctrine. Several are also at the end of their service life, the projection of which didn't account for the technological advancement we or our adversaries have undergone. Long story short, they're too far behind the curve to try and modernize into viable assets." Marginalization was a fate the Ambassador knew too well despite succeeding the Excelsior as the Federation's flagship earlier in the century. An ever-shifting strategic outlook left it to fend for itself with the high standard of durability and versatility to which it was designed, and it earned a similar workhorse reputation as its predecessor. However, its greater size and technological complexity kept its numbers dearer.
"But your father isn't trying to hear that," Limmi voiced of her perusal of Samson's thoughts. Indeed, Joab Prisk's devotion to the Easley was such that it currently operated out of Deep Space 3, blowing a pips-in-frame raspberry at the trend of smaller, specialized vessels for station garrisons.
"Of course not," laughed Samson at her grammatical homage.
"And you think continuing Easley's legacy into a new class would help him let go," she expounded. Limmi felt better attuned to Samson's motives yet still felt it unwise for him to tender the proposal. It'd jeopardize the career individuality he'd fought to establish, and for what? It wasn't as if Joab would raise a coup over the inevitable fate of just about any starship.
The door chimed.
"Come in," Limmi bade, its reflexive pace contrasted by her springing to her feet.
Sibyl, wearing her track clothes which were essentially a lighter sleeveless gym version of the security uniform, peeked inside, curious a little to see what Limmi's quarters we're comprised of for furnishings. The quartering on the station was so much statelier than on her ship tours. Noticing an officer on the projected comms call she refrained from completely entering. "Sorry, Commander. Am I interrupting?"
"You wouldn't be if I hadn't lost track of time." The waft of Sybil's presence into Limmi's senses had instantaneous sparked the realization that she'd missed their rendezvous. "I'm sorry."
"No trouble. I just figured I could get a few more steps in if I came by to check instead of paging." Sibyl looked to the officer on screen. He seemed good-natured by the look of him, and although he was in uniform, she had the feeling by Limmi's relaxed state and his pleasant expression that it wasn't a business call. "Sir," she said, in polite acknowledgement, as if he were actually in the room with them.
Limmi extended an arm her way in beckoning. "Samson, this is Sybil Danzer, my deputy."
"And prospective friend," Samson added, suspecting it why his wife was letting Sybil glimpse into her private life. He also said the sentiment aloud to wean her off of duty etiquette. "No need for formalities. We're married."
"It's a pleasure meeting you, Samson." Sibyl said, since the introductions were informal. She intuited if he was on a call, that they didn't share quarters on the station. "A long-distance marriage?" She ventured curiously, uncertain if she was welcome to ask, but curious for her own reasons.
"Every phase of our relationship had a distance component," Limmi giggled. "Our parents were rarely in the same sector after we first met. Our paths crossed again at the academy, but Samson was a year my senior. We were never close for more than a few weeks at a time until we served together on my second assignment. That was. . .fifteen years later?" she recalled, looking to the screen.
Nodding, Samson added, "I'd blame her folks' dislike of my pop, but his being a senior captain in a high attrition region didn't help matters."
"You both seem so happy," Sibyl commented. As if being conspiratorial, she stage-whispered, "What's the secret?"
Limmi and Samson shot a long, knowing gaze to one another.
"We're still working on distilling it into general advice," the former confessed as she turned back to Sybil. "You're not the first to ask. But if I had to offer something now, I'd say making friendship rather than romantic attachment the foundation."
That struck home for Sibyl, though her gentle smile didn't break. "I guess," she said with some self-deprecating humor. "That's where Cliff and I had got it wrong. Had the formula reversed." There was a lot of passion and almost nothing else in common with her and Cliff.
"Samson and I did the same at first," Limmi assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Any reservation she harbored for such an intimate gesture was trounced by feeling Sybil's regret since she felt responsible for stirring it.
"It actually took years for us to figure out that our friendship was what kept us invested in each other," Samson spoke. "There are only two definite wrongs in a relationship: willfully disrespecting your partner and refusing to grow from your experiences in it. Everything else is discovery."
"You guys really should run seminars." Sibyl teased, although it really did give her the smallest hope. "Maybe Cliff and I can try again. I mean, he and I rarely even talk but he won't hear it when I bring up divorce either. So. That's something, right?"
"It is," acknowledged Samson. "Because one of the hardest parts of marriage is staying committed after the novelty fades. But you two have to talk to each other. You have to lay out your needs going forward, determine whether you can give them to the other, and if can all be formed into a union that works for both of you. You'll just stay in limbo otherwise."
"Maybe, yeah." Sibyl wasn't ready to go into the specifics of why that sounded impossible with her and Cliff, but she would let herself turn the idea around in her head anyway. A few awkward beats passed, and she felt a little bit on the spot, unable to commit to anything more actionable in her life in that unanticipated moment. "Limmi, did you... still want to have that jog? Or do you want to catch me for the next one?"
"I'd still like to have it if you will," answered Limmi, looking to her husband. "We'll pick up later?"
"Of course. Got a meeting in ten anyhow," Samson said, standing. "Good meeting you, Sybil. I hope you and Cliff are able to work things out." With that, he terminated the channel.
She started at the wall where he had been, looking a little distant before speaking again. "I can wait a bit, if you need to change." Sibyl offered.
"I'm fine." Limmi stepped into Sybil's gaze so as to recapture her focus. "How about you? This may sound odd coming from a telepath, but I didn't mean for this to become a dissemination of your life."
"No, it's alright. I brought it up, after all. It's just that usually people don't have any good answers."
"Yeah," Limmi sighed. "When our passion waned, I found little solace in others' advice. Most were afraid of offending me. Or making things worse."
"Cliff doesn't... share a lot. Being apart hasn't made that easier. But I just... I needed to do some things for myself. I was married too young. I know that now."
"I understand that. . .wanting to do for yourself. Samson wanted me to be like his mother, to go into support ops so I'd have the stability for us to have children. But I'd just set out on my own over my parents' objection." Limmi vigorously shook her head. "I wasn't looking to reenter the compromise of family." Her gesture subsided; its energy stolen by a realization. "Do you think you two are at an impasse? Is that what's bothering you?"
"I... I don't know where to start again. I guess." Sibyl shrugged. "We were married when we were both merchant mariners. Doing long hauls together. Then I went to academy, I began a career in Starfleet. He's still in shipping. I don't think he's like your Samson. He's not about to hold long distance conversations."
Limmi saw a resounding 'yes' in between Sybil's lines of nuance. For all the differing details, the heart of her issue struck as synonymous as that of her own break with Samson: dissonance from divergent perceptions of their future. He'd issued the right prescription, but another question came to mind. The question, really.
"Do you want a future with Cliff?"
"Is it... strange that... that I don't know? It's just been one long deferral. But I don't know what we're deferring towards."
"It isn't strange. Changing the trajectory of our lives often does the same to our relationships. It can be daunting to face, especially when we're deeply invested in someone. But. . ."
Sibyl bit her lip, waiting for the other side of the conjunctive.
"Nothing will change if you continue as-is," Limmi resumed after a pause, during which she wondered if her empathy had driven her to become too invested. "Years of separation, yet you still dread talking to him, and he still doesn't talk to you. If that's all you can muster for one another, then you should split because you're just baggage to each other at that point."
"Hey now," Sibyl deflected with a light tone, as Limmi was hitting her sorest spot on the subject. "I thought you were the marriage counselor couple. Patch and repair kits and all." Although still smiling, she looked Limmi in the eyes almost begging the subject to change.
"Couple," Limmi iterated with a nod, the radiation of Sybil's anguish and trepidation provoking her into tracing them to their source. Sybil had put the onus of fixing the marriage on herself, and the subsequent question of how to do it set a constrictive pressure upon her which tightened its grip with every idea that didn't ring as a breakthrough. "It's not solely your responsibility to fix this," she added, feeling it a suitable segue into the remission of this subject Sybil so desperately wanted. "Okay?"
Only if two people both thought that they'd both be in this same holding pattern forever. Sibyl knew someone was going to have to make it their job to at least broach the whole messy subject again. And knowing Cliff, he could probably wait a long time thinking he was doing her a favor letting it be on her time. "Okay," she said. Maybe it was a two-person job, even if one of those two people would have to do something about getting the other one to address it.
"Come on, then," Limmi said with a squeeze of Sibyl's shoulder. "Once we get you full of endorphins, you'll feel like the amazing woman you are. And then you'll know what to do."
Relieved, Sibyl eagerly switched tracks. "I think you'll like the jogging path on the Environmental deck. It's a nice viewing lap, a little irregular."
"I haven't had a proper Environmental deck in years." It was yet another element Starfleet supplanted with holography. Understanding the underlying logistics didn't keep Limmi from thinking it a net negative.
Since Limmi had said she was ready, Sibyl led the way out to the corridor, smiling again as she put the thought of Cliff to the back of her mind. "It's repetitive, running on the same loop. Not as exciting as everything a holodeck can throw at you. But it becomes familiar, and I like that too."
"Familiar can be good," Limmi admitted, falling into step with Sybil. "It can let you relax your guard and fully immerse yourself in the moment."
Sibyl chuckled. Even if she wasn't a fan of letting her guard down, it was too exhausting to keep it up, all the time. Even if Limmi was digging into her personal life, Sibyl had to admit to herself, it was nice making a new friend who even cared. "Yeah," she said. "Something like that..."
