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[ Hiding it makes plenty of sense to d’Artagnan. What that tells him is that Jack’s society wouldn’t welcome it any more than his own. Even if it were tolerated, it would be tolerated only in private, something about which people should be discrete.

But Jack’s not just an ordinary person. He’s not even an ordinary noble, he’s royalty. And d’Artagnan is familiar enough with royalty to see a problem here, a big problem. He knows the Bible story, obviously – he knows that the King is David and not Jonathan. But that’s not how Jack’s been raised. That’s not what his country would expect. ]

What will you do?

[ He asks now, more quietly. ]

You must have thought you’d get married, have an heir.

[ The latter of which could not be done with another man in the bed, regardless of anyone’s preference. ]

Your father – did he know?

[ 'What will you do'? Well, that's fairly easy. ]

I'm going to drive us back to camp.

[ Which is to say, he's not going to do anything. He's not going back. They'd have to drag him. 'Have an heir' stabs at something in him, though, and for a brief moment, Jack's eyes have gone wider. Not quite fear, but something close to it. ]

I knew I would. [ He says blankly, like distracted by something still.

Did his father know? Of course. For how long Jack can't say, likely a long time before the subject was brought up. There's another twist in his stomach, thinking of all the times his father must of watched him, seen pictures, videos, heard reports and felt disgusted with him. And Jack, completely oblivious to it, thinking of the man who'd taught him out to fish and ride a bike. ]

Yes. For years, maybe.

[ D'Artagnan watches him for a moment. His expression is restrained, but concerned. It's obvious Jack doesn't love the idea of making an heir. Of being with a woman.

Astonishing, how easily d'Artagnan had bought into that lie before he'd had the falseness of it laid out.

He leans back, wetting his lips and thinking. ]

It wouldn't be so different, really. Lots of Kings have mistresses. They don't always marry for love, you wouldn't have to either.

You could do what's needed and still have what you want. You know that.

Have you ever lived a lie, d'Artagnan?

[ it's asked oddly conversationally. everyone lies. everyone hides things. no one completely sees a person, as much as they'd like to be seen for who and what they are and still loved for it. but everything that jack is is manufactured and honed for a purpose, beyond just the topic at hand. ]

Has anyone told you that you could not be what God made you, and so you have to change it, if you want those claiming to love you unconditionally to be able to accept you?

[ It was more than just his sexuality. It was his being. It was turning his mind into a machine and his words into knives and battlements. Looking at people as tools and calculating worth on leverage and political value. The teeth for flesh. Not something that Jack was born with. Something he learned. ]

Is it better to be known as yourself but die disgraced, or live at high value but unknown, behind a mask? Looking out on a crowd and knowing they'd drag your name through the streets if they knew what you really were? [ for most, it's not that large of an issue. for an heir to the throne, who's private life is his public life regardless of what he wants, it is exactly that. ]

Which would be more honorable, d'Artagnan?

[ D'Artagnan looks away.

Have you ever lived a lie? After a fashion, maybe. He'd had a relationship that no one could know about, at least, and that's what Jack's talking about. D'Artagnan hadn't done all that well with it. The secrecy hadn't come naturally to him. He hadn't cared who saw him, hadn't minded. Why should he? He'd been in love, why couldn't he shout that out to everyone around? That's what he'd wanted.

It hadn't worked out. If it had, how long would he have been able to keep doing it? How long until he broke, until he wanted it to be more than an affair? Could he have been with someone else, married someone else, while still loving Constance?

He hadn't even been able to pretend at lust, with Milady. D'Artagnan knows the answer. And how can he tell Jack to do something that he could never do himself? ]

You should be yourself, and love who you want to love. Whether it's a woman or a man. You should not have to hide.

No, you shouldn't marry a woman. You should follow your heart, even if it leads to places that people don't like. That is what's honourable. You know it is.

It's not about love, d'Artagnan. Just existence.

[ His own right to exist within himself. Jack attempted love once, and he knows better now. He doubts there's much left of his soul untainted enough to be capable of something like love. If he even understands it right in the first place. He'd seen other, seen David and Michelle, seen what it's supposed to look like and knew it wasn't something he'd be able to achieve. Not wholly. ]

Anyone within royalty fits themselves into a box, shaped like a coffin, because you're born for a nation, not for yourself. What you are is forfeit to what you have to be.

[ True about so many more things than just who Jack puts his dick in. He gives a shrug, glancing from the terrain over to d'Artagnan. ]

Luckily, I don't have anything I have to be anymore, here or elsewhere.

[ What's the worst Silas will do to him back home if he doesn't co-operate? Kill him? But no, he's certain Silas could find another means of torture. It's a talent of his, cruelty. One he taught Jack well. He knows better than anyone what Silas Benjamin is capable of.

He may not be who he'd like to be here, but at least he's not being something he's not. Not that coffin he built for himself and laid in willingly. ]

[ He doesn't argue with that assessment, knowing that it's entirely true.

Jack is like no royalty that d'Artagnan has known, in truth. He's raw in a way that they're not. The King and Queen he knows are far more cosseted, though not foolish. They know where they stand in the grand scheme of everything.

Jack seems, on the whole, far less content with that. ]

If you can, you should do what makes you happy. I hope you can, here.

Whether you're open about that or not, it's up to you. I'll keep any secret you ask of me, Jack. But for what it's worth, I'd rather see you as you really are than living any kind of lie.

[ He shrugs, taking a turn to go around drop point C rather than through. ]

Here, I can. I can't say how happy I can be about destroying planets and killing on command, but it's less a stress than it was.

[ Of course, he hasn't yet had That Chat with Dagger at the point of this thread, and hasn't realized how much Conceal Don't Feel is going to become a theme again, but for the moment, it's easier. ]

It's not a secret here. Not that I'm running around with it printed in neon on a banner, but I won't hide it. [ weeeeell, until michelle and david show up, at least. ]

You don’t want to do it?

[ D’Artagnan looks up at Jack. They’ve never actually talked about that, but he’d had the impression Jack was good at following his orders. He’d been quick to help out in medical, and he’d seemed so carefully controlled. D’Artagnan hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about it, but now that he is, he realises he hadn’t thought Jack would be a dissenter. ]

Destroy this place, I mean. I didn’t realise you were opposed.

[ As for the part about his sexuality not being secret, d’Artagnan will just nod at that. He’ll remember. It’s not the kind of thing he would ever really announce, anyway, but this means he’ll not see the need to cover it up. ]

[ There's a slow turn of his head to peer at d'Artagnan, and a rapid couple of blinks. Did you seriously think that he was gung ho with the 'murder everyone' plan? ]

I think if I was excited for genocide, you'd have much larger concerns than just whether or not I'd like to discuss my preference for dicks, d'Artagnan.

[ Also, sry to ur virgin ears, you know his secret now, enjoy his potty mouth about it. ]

I follow orders because it's for the benefit of all of us here. It's not a cause, it's just a job. [ Perhaps the CDC may not have his loyalty, but Gliese and Neheda do. To some extent, Dagger, but like hell he'll be telling him that. ]

I have large concerns about almost everyone here. I don't ultimately care who anyone takes to their bed, that's their own concern, but I care what side they're on here.

[ It's difficult, making camp with and fighting alongside people when he's never sure if they're here by choice or not. But he can't hate them, and he doesn't want to see them hurt. He tries not to judge, because what good would it do? And because talking openly about whether they're loyal or not tends to be trouble. ]

It is a cause. It's their cause, and we're all helping it. It's never just a job when lives are at stake, Jack.

What side is it you want me to be on?

[ He knows which he is and he knows it's not changing, but he's curious. He imagines d'Artagnan's one of those that wants to be a freedom fighter, and letting him know that Jack's loyalty is to this crew's instructors and captain likely will turn into a lot of moral scolding. So we'll redirect here.

Truth is, he came here by choice. He wanted to, and he doesn't regret it. He's not headed home - the Neheda is home now. ]

It's a business. And for a lot of people, it's a rescue. [ People like Dagger or Gliese, who had their races saved. Or, what was left of them. ]

For a lot of people, it's a prison.

[ He raises his eyebrows. He well understands that there are people who want to be here, who had chosen to be here.

He's not one of them, and he knows many in the same category. ]

They're not here because they need to be or because they chose to be, they're here because they were tricked. That's not business, Jack. Or if it is, it's not the kind of business I want to be part of. Do you?

Then those people can find their way out.

[ He couldn't care less. In all honestly, he'd prefer it. He doesn't want to be fighting next to someone with questionable loyalty. A platoon is only as good as it's weakest link, and it operates as a unified force - same mission, same drive. Jack doesn't want to have to worry that he may have to make up the slack from another one of them unwilling to do their part.

But that's so long as only they leave. If anyone works towards sending the crew as a whole back to their homes, Jack will consider that them signing his death warrent (rather, living death) as much as his father had.

He's quiet for a moment, watching the road ahead of him, before he speaks soberly. ]

Nothing comes without sacrifice, d'Artagnan. Without a cost. Not basic rights, not freedom, not life. [ Perhaps he'll learn that one day. ] It should, but it doesn't. People should be kind, money should be divided out evenly, poverty shouldn't plague the world. But it does.

Those people don’t have that choice to make. Not without putting everything they love, everyone they care about, in danger. That’s not a choice. If they could leave, they would.

[ He would. He’d be out of here so fast, you wouldn’t see him for dust. As it is, he’s stuck here, knowing that Constance will die if he doesn’t stay.

He thinks that, and then corrects it. Not just her. The King, the Queen, Porthos, Treville, the rest of the garrison, everyone in Paris, everyone on Earth. There’s so many people to think of, and yet when he thinks about it, when he genuinely thinks of what he’s fighting for here, he thinks of her. And he can’t walk away, he can’t bear the idea of bringing any of this down on her head. He would die to keep her safe. He can live, here, to do the same.

But that doesn’t mean that it sits well, or comfortably. The longer he’s here, the worse things get here, the more it makes his blood boil. ]

You say sacrifice, but you mean compromise. You mean accepting what can’t be changed, and working on what can. It didn’t have to be this way, Jack. They could have brought in only the people who wanted to come. People for whom the choice was real. Instead they force our hands.

Then those people will have a lot more work to do in finding a way out, if they'd like to preserve both. It's a choice to seek it. They aren't obligated to risk their worlds for their own freedoms.

[ You can call it selfish, perhaps, choosing to risk billions of people to try to find a safe way to free themselves from the CDC, or just naturally expected, but either way, that's what it is. Regardless of how right or wrong it is, that's the reality of the situation, and all Jack sees.

For as long as he can really remember, 'right and wrong' have been subjective. Two opposing ideas can be right. There can be a scattered amount of wrong between them. What should be can be argued. Is it fair to dismantle the CDC when it means innummerable promises, like the salvation of Dagger's race, will be broken? Jack can't see every side of it and he doesn't want to. It is what it is, and arguing what's right and wrong about it is pointless. ]

Of course they could have, and of course that would have been the kinder thing to do. The reality of it is that the CDC has more power than the entire sum of this crew does. If you'd like to take a moral stance on that, it's your choice to rebel and be cut down and forgotten for it. Or comply and live long enough to try to figure a way out. [ That would be the smarter way. The more practical one. Standing up for a cause, in that sort of stubborn way that only ends up with your corpse turning to dust unremarked, Jack thinks, is entirely selfish. It means you die with a clean conscious, but what about those of the cause you supported? How does it help them whatsoever? ]

You always have a choice, even with a gun to your head. It's just not always a good or fair one. Sacrifice or compromise, it's the same either way. Standing up for what's right doesn't mean things will improve, and here, it will mean being destroyed and forgotten by time and worlds.

Standing up wouldn’t be what’s right, if all it means is we die and our worlds burn.

[ That’s the problem. That’s what keeps so many of them going here, because it’s a dealbreaker. No one who has any sort of care for their world, or any of the people left on it, would want to see it destroyed. Or would risk that end, with their own stupidity.

D’Artagnan tells himself that, anyway. He reminds himself of it to quell his own temper, to keep himself from just throwing himself at every Instructor he sees and demanding they either send him home or kill him. It’s amazing how strong that urge is, especially when it’s renewed every time he sees something he doesn’t agree with. ]

I don’t know what’s right. That’s the problem. If I knew what I wanted to do about this, I’d have done it. How do you even know they’ll keep their promises, Jack? They offer the impossible.

[ Like life for the dead. A father, six months dead, restored to life. D’Artagnan hasn’t told anyone they promised him that. He tries not to think of it, because surely, it must be a lie. No one could promise that. And if that promise is void, why not the one that threatens his world, as well? How can he rely on anything they say? ]

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