Tally 2: Languages before Coffee

Posted on Tue Dec 17th, 2024 @ 11:03pm by Lieutenant Adrianna Baciami

1,831 words; about a 9 minute read

Adrianna had always known Constantine’s charm could get him into trouble, but this time, it had gone too far. During their time as cadets at Starfleet Academy, Constantine had been running an illegal poker game with a group of other cadets. It was harmless enough at first, but when he decided to cheat to win, things turned dangerous. Adrianna wasn’t part of the said game, but she found herself caught in the aftermath when she stumbled upon Constantine outside one of the maintenance bays, surrounded by three furious cadets. Their shouts echoed off the bulkheads, each accusation sharpening her focus as she pieced together the truth.

“You rigged the game, Constantine!” one of them spat, his fists clenched, “we’re not letting you walk away with our credits.”

Adrianna froze. “Constantine,” she said, her voice low and cold, “tell me they’re lying.”

He avoided her gaze, his usual confidence faltering. “It’s not what it looks like in full, Lashika,” he started, but the anger radiating from the other cadets made it clear there was no talking his way out of this.

“You're an idiot! What were you thinking? You said you were past all of this– that's why we chose to go to the academy,” she whined and almost begged. The situation escalated before Adrianna could intervene. One of the cadets lunged, shoving Constantine against the bulkhead, and the others closed in. Without hesitation, Adrianna stepped between them, shoving Constantine back. “Get off of him!” she shouted, her tone desperate. She may have been angry at Constantine, but they'd been friends for years, since they were toddlers in fact. She still loved him too and had for years.

“Move, Baciami,” snapped Kaleb, the biggest of the group, “this doesn’t concern you.”

“Like hell it doesn’t,” she shot back, “You want to settle a score? Fine. But you don’t do it by beating someone half to death. It doesn't get you anything.”

Kaleb’s sneer twisted into fury, “He cheated us!”

“And you’ll report it through the proper channels,” Adrianna said, though she knew Constantine couldn’t afford that. Cheating in general, let alone arranging an illegal poker game with other cadets, would get him expelled– or worse.

Kaleb didn’t back down, “I'm not against hitting a girl.”

“Ade…,” Constantine warned, trying to pull himself to his feet and straighten his uniform properly.

Adrianna swatted him away and returned her gaze to Kaleb. He was at least twice her size, but she didn't care. The woman was stubborn and was used to punching above her weight because of having brothers. “I'm glad, because I don't mind hitting girls either, sweetheart,” Adrianna taunted.

Kaleb swung a punch, but Adrianna caught it, twisting his arm and forcing him back. It was enough to enrage the others. Before she could react, one of them grabbed her from behind, dragging her back, while Kaleb raised a metal pipe he’d pulled from a nearby workstation.

“Stop!” Constantine shouted, panic in his voice, but Kaleb was already moving. The pipe swung down, and Adrianna broke free just in time to shove Constantine out of the way. The blow caught her along the side of the head.

She hit the deck hard, straight on top of a tool box, forcing her to gasp for air as pain lanced through her. Blood spread across her uniform, and her vision blurred as she fought to stay conscious. Blood dripped into her eyes, stinging like hell. The pipe had done more damage than anyone realised.

Constantine knelt beside her, his hands shaking as he tried to stem the bleeding, shouting her name over and over, “Adrianna, wake up! Please!”

Security had caught wind of what was going on and quickly arrived, causing the three cadets to run, leaving Constantine and Adrianna alone as they hurried to capture those involved. By the time medical officers arrived, she was gone. Adrianna was out cold, barely breathing, her head gushing. The medics worked quickly, using every tool at their disposal. For a brief, horrifying moment, there was only silence.

She didn’t wake until a day or two later in the infirmary, the sterile smell of antiseptics filling her nose. Adrianna’s first moments of consciousness were a haze of confusion and pain. The lights above her were harsh, blinding, and the steady beep of medical monitors punctuated the fog of her thoughts. She tried to move, but every muscle screamed in protest, her chest felt tight and heavy. For a second, she couldn’t remember where she was– or why.

Then it hit her: Constantine. The fight. The pipe. She had died.

Her chest ached with every breath, and Constantine sat slumped in a chair beside her, his face pale and haunted. “Connie?” She groaned.

“You died,” he said softly, his voice cracking, “You were gone for nearly a minute because of me.” She looked at him blankly, clearly not fully with it and he managed to repeat in Italian. He knew first hand that if you weren't focused enough, languages were difficult. For him, Russian was his first language and if he ever had a headache, he would revert. He assumed that was what was wrong here– no doubt between the cocktail of pain medications and her head injury, her mind was not operating enough to be able to cope with such exertion.

Adrianna turned her head, glaring at him through the pain. “You’re damn right it was because of you,” she rasped, her voice weak but sharp. Her throat felt very dry, “What the hell were you thinking, Constantine? Cheating, gambling, getting yourself into this mess?”

Tears streamed down his face, and for the first time, Adrianna saw real remorse in his eyes. He leaned forward, placing his forehead onto the mattress of the bed. “I’m sorry, Adey,” he whispered. “I–”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” she interrupted, “You don’t get to be sorry. You don’t get to play with other people’s lives because you think you’re clever enough to get away with it. You promised me that you were done. We went to the academy together so that we could be the heroes for a change. So that we could be the best versions of ourselves and you don't use your powers for good! You are so smart and amazing, you are a genius when it comes to slight of hand and reading people, it's why we went into Intel, but this? Constantine, I'm disappointed. I love you but I am hurt.”

He nodded, unable to meet her gaze, “I’ll report myself. Take whatever punishment they give me.”

“No,” she said firmly, surprising them both, “You’ll make this right without dragging us all down. I won't lose you and be stuck here alone. I swear though, if you ever pull something like this again, I’ll let them throw you out of the Academy myself and I'll knock you round the head with a pipe.”

Constantine looked up, offering a weak smile, “I don't deserve you, Lashika.”

“No, you don't,” she retorted with a gentle humour to her tone.

The door to the infirmary opened, and a doctor entered, his footsteps soft against the floor. Constantine immediately straightened in his chair, hope seemingly lighting his tired features. “She’s awake, Doctor,” he said, his voice filled with urgency.

The doctor nodded, approaching Adrianna’s bed with a calm but professional expression, “Miss Baciami, it’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

Adrianna blinked, her mind still feeling a little sluggish, but she forced herself to reply. She spoke softly, her throat still very much raw, answering in her native tongue– though she was convinced it was Standard.

The doctor frowned slightly but continued, assuming it was a native colloquialism for feeling like hell, “You’ve been through a traumatic ordeal, but you’re stable now. Can you tell me how much you remember?”

Adrianna responded again, her words growing more hurried as confusion started to take root. She looked between the doctor and Constantine, waiting for some sign of recognition in their faces. Why did they look so blank?

The doctor straightened, glancing at Constantine with concern, “She’s not speaking Standard. Is this her native tongue?”

“Yes, she's Italian,” Constantine’s heart sank, seeing the concern in the doctor's eyes. He leaned in closer to Adrianna, crouching beside her bed, his voice soft and coaxing, “Amore, can you try again? Speak Standard for me.”

Adrianna’s eyes narrowed in frustration, and she snapped back at him in Italian, convinced she was already doing exactly that. Constantine’s face tightened as her words spilled out, their emotional weight clear even if they weren’t what the doctor needed to hear. “Damn it,” Constantine muttered under his breath, then turned back to Adrianna. Switching to Italian, he said gently, “Ade, listen to me. You’re speaking Italian right now, not Standard.”

Her brow furrowed deeply, panic flashing in her eyes. This was how her mother had gone after a medical incident a few years prior. “No, I’m not,” she replied, her words sharp but still in Italian, “Why can’t either of you understand me? I’m speaking perfectly fine! This isn't funny, Connie!”

The doctor stepped in, his tone cautious and sympathetic, “Miss Baciami, this isn’t unusual in cases of severe head trauma or oxygen deprivation. Your brain might be defaulting to your native language, masking what is actually going on. It’s temporary in most cases, but we’ll need to run more tests to be sure.”

Adrianna’s breathing grew faster as she stared at them both, her frustration spilling over. She turned back to Constantine. “Why aren’t you helping me?” she demanded, still speaking in Italian.

Constantine caught her hand, holding it tightly. “I am helping you,” he said softly, his own voice shaking, “You’re scared, I know, but we’ll get through this. Just trust me.”

Adrianna rubbed the bridge of her nose with her free hand, letting out a shaky breath. She didn’t fully understand what was happening, but Constantine’s steady presence grounded her. Finally, she nodded, her voice trembling. “I can’t stay like this,” she said, her words quiet but desperate, still in Italian, “I can't be like my mother– I'll be kicked out of the academy and never work again. And, merde, I'm not cut out to be a housewife. I want adventure.”

“You won’t,” Constantine promised, his tone firm, “I’ll be here, no matter what. I got you into this, and I sure as hell will help you get back to your normal ‘speaks more languages than me’ self in no time, ok?”

Adrianna offered a small smile and nod. She may have been angry at him for how this all started, but she still loved him and he was her best friend.

 

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