Stark

It was absurd, Stark had decided, that cupcakes were apparently unique to Earth. He hadn't given up hope that someday he might find them but given the sheer number of commerce (and other) planets he'd been on in his lifetime he didn't think it likely.

Perhaps he could start a cupcake business out here in the Uncharteds. Of course, he'd have to learn how to actually bake them first. Maybe Anders could help with that. And there was the lack of chocolate to contend with as well. Anders probably couldn't do much about that. The chocolate ones were, after all, the best ones. Perhaps the chocolate deficiency that the rest of the universe suffered from was the reason that there were no cupcakes to be found.

And perhaps Stark had been spending too much time alone eating his seemingly never-ending supply of food cubes and daydreaming of cupcakes.

Stark had run out of food on his transport pod. This meant he had to stop somewhere and this commerce planet had been convenient. It also seemed to have a sizable Delvian population, which Stark had attempted to avoid during his visit. He hadn't been entirely successful.

He would have perfectly content, or at least as content as he ever was any more, to stay holed up in the transport pod and not speak to anyone or see anyone at all. His visit to Fandom, Zhaan's unexpected appearance there and all-too-expected disappearance had left him wishing for nothing more than solitude. Possibly forever. Unfortunately, his stomach had had other ideas and contact with others, including the inconveniently placed Delvians, had been unavoidable.

At least he had enough food to last him for quite some time now, he thought as he finished loading the last of his purchases. He wouldn't have to see or speak to anyone until this food ran out. That was weekens away, at the earliest.

At some point he would remember how much he hated being alone with just his own jumbled thoughts for company. Probably around the same time as he realized he'd bought a large crate of food cubes, rather than something actually edible, in his haste to get off the planet.

[Establishy unless you wanna call an emo alien. I will be heading to bed very shortly though, so it will be a very sloooow call.]

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.]

Once aboard the Scarran ship, Stark and the others were led into a detention area and scanned for weapons. There were rather a lot of those amongst this group.

( And then more unpleasantness )

[In just under the wire. Whee.]

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.]