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Somewhere in the Uncharted Territories
Sep. 14th, 2007 11:07 pmIt had been two weekens now, Stark realized as he counted his remaining cupcakes before carefully packing them away again. One cupcake per solar day (if nothing else, his cycles before Fandom had taught him the importance of rationing) and there had been 23 when he left Fandom. And how quickly he had dropped earth words from his vocabulary since he'd been back. Solar days were passing, time was measured in microts, distance in metras, and anyone that looked Sebacean was Sebacean and not human. In short, he was not in KansasFandom anymore.
He had quickly figured out where he had ended up after leaving Fandom, and then thanked Zhaan's goddess (and a few other deities for good measure) for the fact that it was not in Peacekeeper or Scarran space. Going from home, and he was now free to admit to himself that it had been home, to captivity was not what he had in mind. Not that the Uncharteds were much better, really. He'd left that planet quickly enough, booking passage with a captain who had stared openly at a free Banik but had thankfully not questioned the credits pressed into his palm. He had come to this commerce planet four solar days (and four cupcakes) later. And then he had listened for word of his shipmates or of any crazed half-breed Peacekeeper commanders. The former because he wanted to find them or at least be sure they were all still firmly on this side and not the other, the latter because he was likely chasing after the former and because Stark wanted to avoid him if at all possible.
So far, he had gotten strange looks for inquiring about his former shipmates. Everyone here, it seemed, had heard of them but none of them seemed to actually know anything. Repetitions of the same old stories of pillaging and popping eyeballs were not getting him anywhere. The half-overheard tale of a leviathan blowing up a command carrier sounded promising even if bore as little resemblence to the truth as Stark suspected it did.
There had to be a better way to get information. There weren't any conveniently dying people nearby who might be willing to give a helpful Stykera information in exchange for making their final moments more peaceful. Not that Stark was one to make such deals. Not often in any case. Perhaps it was time to look for information somewhere else. He'd found Moya twice before, this time really should not have been any more difficult. Right now he just hoped he could find her before his cupcake supply ran out. It was time to rethink the 1 cupcake per solar day policy.
[The beginning of the adventures of Stark. In. Spaaaaaace! In which I hope to fix the bits of Stark in season 4 that bother me. Yay? Also that did not say "dieties" because I do not have cupcakes on the brain. Really.]
He had quickly figured out where he had ended up after leaving Fandom, and then thanked Zhaan's goddess (and a few other deities for good measure) for the fact that it was not in Peacekeeper or Scarran space. Going from home, and he was now free to admit to himself that it had been home, to captivity was not what he had in mind. Not that the Uncharteds were much better, really. He'd left that planet quickly enough, booking passage with a captain who had stared openly at a free Banik but had thankfully not questioned the credits pressed into his palm. He had come to this commerce planet four solar days (and four cupcakes) later. And then he had listened for word of his shipmates or of any crazed half-breed Peacekeeper commanders. The former because he wanted to find them or at least be sure they were all still firmly on this side and not the other, the latter because he was likely chasing after the former and because Stark wanted to avoid him if at all possible.
So far, he had gotten strange looks for inquiring about his former shipmates. Everyone here, it seemed, had heard of them but none of them seemed to actually know anything. Repetitions of the same old stories of pillaging and popping eyeballs were not getting him anywhere. The half-overheard tale of a leviathan blowing up a command carrier sounded promising even if bore as little resemblence to the truth as Stark suspected it did.
There had to be a better way to get information. There weren't any conveniently dying people nearby who might be willing to give a helpful Stykera information in exchange for making their final moments more peaceful. Not that Stark was one to make such deals. Not often in any case. Perhaps it was time to look for information somewhere else. He'd found Moya twice before, this time really should not have been any more difficult. Right now he just hoped he could find her before his cupcake supply ran out. It was time to rethink the 1 cupcake per solar day policy.
[The beginning of the adventures of Stark. In. Spaaaaaace! In which I hope to fix the bits of Stark in season 4 that bother me. Yay? Also that did not say "dieties" because I do not have cupcakes on the brain. Really.]