Stark

It was not a holiday in the UTs. Well, it probably was one somewhere, but Stark didn't know about it.

For him, it was just another solar day. A day full of food cubes and a quiet transport pod.

If it were the beginning of a new cycle for Stark he might have made a resolution to do something about the quiet transport pod and the endless repetitive solar days. He had friends out there in the universe and there was always the island to go back to, even if just for a visit.

Since it wasn't a holiday for Stark he wouldn't be making that resolution. He might, however, still make an effort to try and change things in his life. He couldn't wander around from commerce planet to commerce planet like this forever and he didn't want to.

There had been cupcakes and talking. Mostly talking. Zhaan had said she wanted to know what had happened with him and so Stark had tried to tell her all of it. And there was a lot to tell. And there was so much to say that wasn't just retelling what had happened since last he saw Zhaan. So much to do. More than could possibly have fit into the all-too-short time she was here.

"Please," he said softly, and not for the first time. "Please don't leave me alone again. There must be a way..." He said it even though he knew there was no way. He knew that this time had already been a gift. Time to see and hear and touch and simply be with his Zhaan.


[Up late because I'm in San Diego and had no downtime at all today. Also for epic amounts of SP]

Time passed on Moya. A few solar days at most while they traveled back to the water planet. Stark was still distraught, not paying attention to the passage of time or to anything else. He didn't notice the comings and goings of anyone else on Moya. He wandered the corridors occasionally, ignoring his comms and the DRDs and most attempts at interaction and the reports of developments in the war between the Scarrans and the Peacekeepers. The war that might have been averted already if only he had better prepared Yondalao or if only he were able to do what it was everyone wanted him to do and deliver Yondalao's spiritual remains to the other Eidelons. "I'm not worthy. I'm not worthy. I'm not worthy. Can't do that, can't do that. I can't do it." Repetitions along those lines were all he said when he bothered to speak at all. Sometimes, even when he did speak, he was barely understandable. The others weren't sure if he was talking to himself or a voice in his head. It amounted to much the same thing as far as they were concerned, and Stark babbling was at least somewhat normal, even if the rest of his behavior wasn't.

He would have spoken to the others if he could have. He wanted to. If he were able to, he would have told them everything. He would have tried to explain what was going inside his head. He would have tried to tell them all that what was left of Yondalao was nearly unbearable to be carrying around inside of himself but that he was trying. And yes, he was occasionally carrying on conversations with the voices in his head but if they had half as many pieces of others inside of them as he did his shipmates would do the same thing. Some of the voices were helpful. Others, particularly those acquired when he had lived among Scarrans and Peacekeepers, were not. And some of them were just loud and distracting. And one, the one voice he wanted most of all, was nearly silent and that only made matters worse. If Zhaan were here, even just in his head, it would be easier. He knew that. If Zhaan were here the others would never have forced him into this situation in the first place. She wouldn't have allowed it. He knew that, too. Of course, the others knew nothing of all of this. All they knew was that something was wrong. Even if he had tried to explain, they wouldn't have understood. None of them were Stykera. None of them had had the the remains of a spiritual leader, and with them one of the last hopes for peace in this end of the galaxy, forced into their heads.

"I don't know how," was his last quietly desperate statement before he stopped speaking entirely.

[Poor wee Banik. We're almost at the end though. Hopefully.]

Stark always missed Zhaan. This was a fundamental part of who he was, much like his tenous hold on his sanity or his tendency to babble. Sometimes he missed her more than others. Usually this was just something he accepted, something that bothered him on some level but not an immediate one. Usually it was a wistful sort of emotion, occasionally something stronger. Sometimes it was more immediate. Like today. Today it wasn't even just emotional. Today it was almost physical.

Staying cooped up his transport pod was not helping Stark in the least, which was why he'd landed on this small commerce planet. Doing something, even if it was just wandering through a marketplace looking for something more palatable than food cubes, had to be better than being left alone with his thoughts right now. Unfortunately for Stark, this particular commerce planet happened, at the moment, to be hosting more than a few Delvians.

Had Stark known about the influx of Delvians, he probably wouldn't have landed at all. Right now he wasn't in any shape to be running into blue people when all he wanted in the world was one particular, beloved blue person. One he'd been missing for far, far too long.

It had been merely an annoyance when he'd spotted the first Delvian woman. He'd simply turned and headed in a new direction. It had happened again, and he'd turned again, thinkin perhaps he should just head back to the pod.

And then he'd turned and crashed into two Delvian Pa'us. Having one eye, after all, led to a distinct lack of peripheral vision to one side. He stumbled backward, stared, paled, whispered "Goddess help me" in a tone barely audible even to himself and began stammering out an apology.

One of the priestesses had grabbed at his shoulder to steady him as he stumbled. She smiled, dismissing the apology as unnecessary, as did the other. "Are you all right?" one asked, "you look...unwell."

"Could we help?" offered the other. "Come, sit, before you fall over." She motioned to a recently vacated bench as she spoke. The first Delvian who had spoken nodded her agreement, gently pushing tugging Stark towards the bench. Part of Stark was having very happy thoughts at the idea of these two Delvians. The vast majority of him was appalled at that part and trying not to flail or run screaming.

"I..." Stark began, toying with the mask buckle at his neck in his effort not to flail. "I. No. No. This is. I...That is, you're...you're not. And I, no. You're not, even if you look...I need to go. Now. Need to go now. Need to be somewhere else. Alone." Leaving two confused Delvian priestesses behind him, Stark turned and fled in the opposite direction hoping he could manage to avoid anymore encounters with blue women on his way back to the transport pod. Perhaps being alone was his best option right now.

[I couldn't leave Stark entirely out of sex week even though just contemplating including him felt vaguely wrong somehow. Establishy unless you happen to be in the UTs or you're taking a break from your pollen-fueled sexcapades to call an alien. He'd enjoy that.]

Previously, on Farscape, there was a nice safe water planet.

( In which season 4 ends, not with a bang but with some screaming )



[So that's a spoiler-tastic recap of the last few minutes of season 4. This is how David Kemper, magnificent bastard that he is, left us hanging with only a "to be continued" to cling desperately to. And for once I'm not craving cupcakes as I write one of these posts.]

Stark had grown tired of all the pacing and walking eventually. Now he'd taken to hiding in his quarters instead. He wouldn't have called it hiding, of course, but it was hiding all the same.

( Unfortunately, hiding does not cause cupcakes to miraculously appear )

[No transcripts were harmed in the making of this post. No cupcakes were harmed either, though the last one I brought home from work was cruelly stolen from me.]

They all made it back, relatively safely, aboard Moya. And, because they were all still the same people even after everything, they fled.


( Some things never change. Some do. )

Things were normal, or what passed for normal on Moya most times. But it isn't so simple as that. It's never so simple as that. Of course Stark was happy to be back on Moya. Of course he was glad to see his friends again. Of course it was a relief to be safe and free, for now. But it wasn't right. Things (and people) were missing here. Things (and people) had changed too much and not enough. Moya was a fine place to be, but Moya wasn't home. Not anymore. Someday this might be home again, but not now. Not yet.


[The bit under the cut mostly from transcripts of episode 4.21 "We're So Screwed: La Bomba." Also, the internet tells me that my show premiered 9 years ago today.]