A Transport Pod, Somewhere In the Hynerian System

The portal had gotten Stark to where he meant to go and Chiana had arrived to retrieve him as promised once he commed to let her know he’d made it.

“You look like dren, Stark,” she told him cheerfully once they’d taken off. She had to start a conversation somehow, didn’t she?

“I feel like it,” he said quietly. He wasn’t certain, now that he was here, that leaving had been the correct choice. He had been certain before leaving that staying wasn’t. At least he was consistently conflicted.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” she asked, turning in her seat to get a better look at him. She could wait on teasing him further until later. He really didn’t seem up for it. “We’ve got time.”

“She told me she was leaving. She left. It hurt. It still hurts. I haven’t been sleeping well. Or much. Or eating well. Or much. Drinking, some. More of that than anything else.”

“We’ll get you some food,” Chiana promised. Maybe the teasing needed to be pushed back further than she thought. “And a bed. Pilot had the DRDs getting your old room ready for you, if you want it.”

“My quarters are fine. Anything is fine. I can sleep in here if I need to. I’ve slept worse places.”

“We’ve all slept worse places,” Chiana said mildly. “Now we don’t have to. You didn’t bring much with you.”

“The last time I came back I ended up in a cell and they took everything. No. That was the time before last. Last time we had a war. And we ended up in cells then too,” Stark said, looking down at his hands. His nails weren’t glowing. Maybe he should have gotten a color. It would have been something for the others to comment on, at least. “I didn’t bring things I didn’t need. Mostly clothes. My gun.” The gun was absolutely a necessity out here. And he’d left behind certain things he couldn’t bear to lose. He would be going back. Eventually. He hoped. “And there’s chocolate in the bag. For you and the others. If you want it.” He’d had the presence of mind to grab that before leaving.

“I won’t tell Rygel if you don’t,” Chiana said, grinning over at Stark.

The grin was not returned. He hadn’t smiled in weeks. “He can have it if he wants. I don’t need any.”

“He’s been preoccupied,” Chiana said with a snort. “His wife called. Said she’d get back in touch. Frog thinks he’s gonna take back his throne.”

That was enough to get Stark to look back up, interested. “He still has a wife? And…how does he think he’s going to do that?”

“Nobody frelling knows,” Chiana said. “Not like we’ve got an army. Maybe the wife’s got ideas? Guess we’ll find out.”

“I suppose we will,” he said, frowning. Stark had not come back to be involved in staging a coup but maybe watching someone else try was the sort of distraction he needed. Or maybe this would be a disaster. “I didn’t know I’d be coming into…that.”

“You didn’t think it was going to be quiet on Moya, did you?” Chiana asked with an incredulous expression. “Stark, you haven’t been gone that long.”

“I have,” he said, head down again. “Longer there than here. Time isn’t so fixed as you think.”

“Stark,” Chiana said, tapping the side of her head while giving a truly impressive amount of side-eye, “pretty sure my eyes and I know that better than most people.”

Stark flinched. Chiana’s eyes had been replaced after he had failed to do what needed to be done and she’d had to step in and slow things down. Of course she knew time wasn’t fixed. “Sorry,” he whispered, somehow managing to make himself look even smaller in his seat.

“Oh, do not start that round of apologies again,” Chiana warned. “You brought me to get fixed by that Diagnosan, I’m fine now, and I don’t want to hear it.”

Of course Stark’s first reaction was to apologize again but he bit it back and just nodded instead.

“So,” Chiana continued, “we got another arn or so before we get back to Moya. No more apologies. Figure out something else to pass the time.”

[NFB due to distance, obvs, but Stark did bring his phone with him to space and is contactable should anyone want to do that.]