cicatrize | captcha overflow;

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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