Too Many Tallies
Posted on Wed Jul 16th, 2025 @ 3:51pm by Lieutenant Adrianna Baciami
1,462 words; about a 7 minute read
The Baciami family reunions had always been lively affairs, full of food, laughter, and the usual bouts of good-natured teasing but there was one tradition that held an almost sacred place among the siblings: the tally count. Every time they were all together, they gathered around the long wooden table at their childhood home to reveal the marks that adorned their forearms– each one a testament to moments of survival, defiance, or sheer dumb luck.
Giovanni, the eldest and ever the leader, rolled up his sleeve first. His tallies were neat and precise, a reflection of his disciplined nature. "Five," he announced with a wry grin, leaning back in his chair, "and every single one well-earned."
Franco followed, his marks slightly more haphazard but no less significant. "Four," he said, smirking at Giovanni, "quality over quantity, big brother."
Marco, ever the jokester, made a show of pulling up his sleeve slowly. "Three," he said, shaking his head. "Clearly, I’m the smarter one here."
Eduardo and Matteo went next, their numbers– two and four respectively– prompting a round of friendly jabs about risk-taking. Matteo, who was also in Starfleet, joked that he deserved extra credit as his pregnant wife had cravings at 2am and so that was slowly killing him.
Nico and Luca shared matching counts of three, though Nico claimed his were the result of daring rescues while Luca accused him of embellishing.
Then came Enzo, the youngest of the brothers. He pushed up his sleeve to reveal two small lines. "What can I say? I’m just too quick for trouble to catch me," he quipped, earning a round of laughter.
Finally, all eyes turned to Adrianna. She had been quiet throughout the ritual, perching on the table with her arms folded. Unlike her brothers, her tallies weren’t on her forearms but hidden away, etched on her hip.
"Come on, Adrianna," Giovanni coaxed, his tone half-serious. "Tradition is tradition."
She hesitated, her fingers brushing the hem of her shirt. "Do I have to?" she muttered, glancing at the expectant faces around her.
"Of course you do!" Franco teased, "Unless you’ve got something to hide."
“I know of three. I know you gained one after your Intel mission. That makes four. So you have four, right?” Giovanni asked, teasing, “it's ok if you only have four, Sorellina.”
Adrianna sighed, the weight of their collective attention pressing down on her. Slowly, she lifted the edge of her shirt to reveal the marks etched into her skin. Seven.
The room fell silent for a moment, the significance of the number sinking in. Seven was more than any of them had, even Giovanni.
"Seven?" Matteo said, his voice a mixture of surprise and sadness.
"When did that happen?" Nico asked, his usual bravado replaced with genuine curiosity.
Adrianna lowered her shirt, her expression unreadable. "I was undercover– it was dangerous. Technically, at one point it was eight, but as you can see, Vance is still very much alive, so I had it removed to make it right," she said quietly, almost feeling guilty.
Giovanni’s gaze softened, "You don’t have to explain them all, Adrianna. Just remember, every tally is a story of survival and we’re all still here."
For all their teasing, the Baciami siblings understood one thing better than anyone: every tally told a story, and every story was a testament to their bond. The moment of solemnity passed quickly, and the siblings erupted into a fresh round of chatter, telling stories of their near misses. They were curious to hear about Adrianna’s undercover days. She didn't speak of it– they barely had glimpses into the life that she had lived. Equally, this was the first time that Adrianna had been at the table for years. Adrianna had practically fallen off of the face of the planet after everything with Vance's death. She'd spent time sorting out his affairs, staying in his home and then had shipped out the second she had opportunity. A few of her brothers hadn't seen her in person for years.
As the evening wore on, Giovanni kept a watchful eye on Adrianna. Her confession about the eighth tally gnawed at him, and when the others were distracted, he quietly gestured for her to step outside with him. The cool night air wrapped around them as they stood on the veranda, the distant sounds of laughter filtering through the open windows, especially when wives and children flooded into the room. Giovanni leaned against the railing, his arms crossed, his expression a mixture of concern and determination. “You know,” he began, his voice low but steady, “we’ve always joked about these tallies, but there’s a reason we never take them lightly. The old superstition– nine tallies is the limit.”
Adrianna tensed, her arms hugging her sides, “It’s just a story, Gio. A silly superstition from when we were kids– a loving warning from papà.”
“Maybe,” Giovanni conceded, his gaze fixed on the horizon, “but remember what I told you when you got your first tally? I promised I wouldn’t let you get to nine and now, you’re at seven.” He turned to face her, his expression grave, “you were at eight.”
Adrianna looked away, the weight of his words settling over her. “It’s not like I’m trying to rack them up,” she muttered.
“I know you’re not,” he said softly, “but you’ve always taken on more than you should, Ade. You carry things the rest of us can’t even imagine and it scares me.”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping, “I’m fine, Giovanni. I’ve handled everything so far, haven’t I?”
“That’s not the point,” he replied, stepping closer, “the point is, you shouldn’t have to handle everything alone. We’re your family. I promised you– no matter what– I wouldn’t let you get to nine. That’s why I’ve roped in a few others to help because gawd knows you need all the help you can.”
Adrianna’s brow furrowed, “What do you mean, ‘roped in’?”
“Vance,” Giovanni said bluntly, “and some of your shipmates– Zai, Sabastian– anyone you trust. They’ve got your back.”
Adrianna’s jaw dropped, “You what? Giovanni, you can’t just–”
“I can, and I did,” he interrupted, his tone firm, “Do you genuinely think I can just sit around, waiting for a call to tell me my little sister didn’t make it back from some mission? I won’t do it, Adrianna. I can’t stand the thought of burying you.” His voice cracked slightly, betraying the depth of his fear.
Adrianna’s protest died on her lips, replaced by a wave of emotion she couldn’t quite name.
“Zai and Sabastian are empaths– they’ll know when something’s wrong. Vance– he's going to be your husband. He should take care of you. You need to allow him to take care of you. I don't know why you have so many marks, but I pray to anyone who will listen that they are not because of him but rather your mission in general. He loves you more than anything and I know that he shares my every instinct to bubblewrap you. Between the three of them, and me keeping tabs from wherever I am, you’re not slipping past nine. Not on my watch. If I thought that you would agree, I'd even have you as part of my crew.”
Adrianna stared at him, her heart tugging between frustration and gratitude. Her eyes went back to the room, seeing Vance entering the room and being welcomed by her brother. She knew Giovanni was right to worry about her, but it didn't stop her from wanting to beat him for being seemingly overprotective. Her eyes returned to Giovanni, “You really don’t trust me to take care of myself, do you?”
“I trust you,” Giovanni said softly, “but I also know you. You’d take on the galaxy if it meant keeping someone else safe. You've always wanted to be the hero because you have the biggest heart of all of us. Gawd knows why– no-one deserves the unconditional and innocent love you offer, Sorellina. Just– please– just let us take care of you for once, Ade.”
She exhaled, the fight draining from her shoulders, “You’re impossible, you know that?”
Giovanni smiled faintly and pulled her into a hug, “runs in the family.”
As they stepped back inside, Adrianna felt the weight of his promise settle over her– not a burden, but a strange kind of comfort. No matter what happened, she wasn’t alone. Giovanni and her brothers– and now Vance, Zai, and Sabastian– would make sure of that.
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