kismet_loop | [video]

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[Sam's broadcasting from a seat at Your Place, a milkshake on the table in front of her.]

Having now completed a couple years of it, I'm now pretty sure everyone under a hundred is improvising this 'real adult' stuff. And as for the rest of you? [She grins a crooked little grin, pointing at the camera with a cherry stem.] I've got some suspicions still.

[The broadcast would end there---and does, briefly---but the network's treated to Hiro hijacking Sam's drone to properly inform other Haveners.]

Hey, so, uh, what Sam means is that it's her birthday and she's just being cryptic. So, y'know. Don't let her forget it.

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Then I will consider that a great compliment.

For a great guy; fitting.

[He chuckles] Such a flatterer. Should I be worried you want something from me? [Completely teasing]

Nah. This birthday, I'm only asking for rides from the people with space for passengers; no other requests.

[That puts a thoughtful look on his face.]

Well, I may have to be sure to be prepared next year.

Yeah...?

[He smiles and gives a shrug.] Perhaps.

[He’s just going to leave it at that, Sam.]

[Sensing that, she moves on, musing.]

I know it is't really, but next year seems like it's a very long ways away. I... can only wonder how twenty-five will hit me---to say nothing of where it will---because I will tell you I did not see relocation coming on such a scale. A much smaller scale? ...Yeah.

If I hadn't been pulled here, I would have moved back to Edmonton by now.

[He finds himself shaking his head.]

Twenty-five. I keep marveling each time I remember that is so much less time that I first think of it as.

Would you believe Hiro still manages to make me feel old?

Mind if I ask, how old are you?

Well, he is a little punk.

[Shrugs] Around the five million mark somewhere.

The consensus stands.

Even though I was expecting an answer like that, it still sounds weird to hear someone say. Now I want to ask what you were up to not only a year ago, but say, a century back.

What I was up to? [As in doing or age wise? He’s guessing “doing”, because really a century doesn’t take much off the “five million mark”]

Hmm, likely being a bit of a pest to Dai Atlas. [Amused smile. He...really had become a bit of a rebel in that last millennia or so...]

Who's that? And while I'm asking questions, [like that isn't 'almost always'] what would you be up to now, if you hadn't been hauled here?

I guess you could say he’s the leader of New Crystal City’s government.

[The last makes him pause.]

Ah...not...much at all really. See, I...died just before arriving in Haven.

Ah, alright.

[She'd been on the brink of some inquisitive sound, but is shocked into silence. After a moment (a short moment, a split-second because what's rattled in her at this comes crashing) she manages one word---once, twice, and then the others.]

What?! What the hell happened to you?!

........I'm sorry, Sam. It was a choice I made, and I do not regret it.

[And he certainly had not meant to upset her...on her birthday]

What happened is a...bit of a story. [One he'll tell if she's sure she wants to hear in now.]

That---if there's that, still.

[She smoothes both hands over her hair, at a loss, but that 'bit of a story' is something to start from and so she doesn't hesitate to ask again.]

What happened?

[He’s quiet another moment.]

To understand I have to go back to long before the incident. Our people had been at war. There came a point when it could have stopped, but because of hate, or fear, or a want for power, both sides pushed on and continued fighting. There were many of us who just decided we were not going to take sides in the pointless killing. Many were leaving Cybertron anyway, and the Circle of Light was just one group in that many.

We disappeared in the chaos, found a planet with no other life forms and settled, building a city under ground. A lot of time passed and I found myself growing restless. I wanted to help people, there were so many of our own who were out there, no part of the war and yet still caught up in it. I would go to the surface, trying to think of ways I could convince Dai Atlas to authorize even a small group of us to find refugees trying to leave the fighting.

...And then a slaver’s ship landed on our planet. Taking a break to take stock, or planning to meet buyers there, I don’t know, but I knew I had to do something. It’s also when I met Drift. He’d crashed there earlier, and he wanted a way off-planet. I wanted to help the slaves.

He was injured in the fight and to save his life I brought him back to New Crystal City. He was an outsider, and had many of the Circle worried. If someone knew about us, and left, the war we’d avoided for so long could come crashing down on us. He was lost, fighting for a cause he no longer believed in. He was my charge, and for a few weeks I trained him, helped him choose his path.

Unfortunately, our attack on the slavers meant they knew someone was on the planet. They were able to contact Drift and wanted to make a deal. Us, for him; he could go back to the war if he gave us to the slavers. Instead, he came back and told us of the deal.

I chose to face the slavers, to protect the city. They had to have someone, they didn’t have to know an entire city was there. Others joined us, including Drift, and we set our stage. We knew we’d be outnumbered, and that we’d likely all die, but even if we did lose the battle, we’d have protected the city. It’s what mattered most.

I faced the leader of the slaver traders...and did not survive. [To his shame, it was because he did what ever fighter knows they should never do...he let his worry for another distract him.]

I do know that after my death Dai Atlas raised the city, and the citizens fought for themselves. I know the slavers were defeated and that our city was safe. I did not wish for death, but I know it was not in vein, and that’s what matters to me.

[Sam listens mutely. The initial shock's fading, eroded by a mass of other emotions. The dismay's there, deepening, and a kind of morbid curiosity (it's not cold, but a deep itching ache like an abscessed tooth somewhere in her sternum) and what borders on a dumb disbelief, grounded in the fact it's not fair. It's dumb because fairness has nothing to do with it---when there's warring, people fight and people die. Doesn't matter who; it happens.]

[And still, she thinks; yes, but--- But? Even Breakdown didn't have his death happen to him. It's something that Wing's here in Haven despite his dying, and it's something that he's satisfied with what he'd accomplished, but... 'it's something' doesn't seem like it's enough. Wing's a good person, her first friend here, and here he is, telling her how he came to be killed, not through any accident but by somebody.]

[For the first time in a long, long time, Sam pushes past what she wants to ask to first offer what condolences she can.]

I'm sorry. But, I'm glad you've got that.

...though. What were these slavers? Who was their leader?

[She wants to know, she needs a name, because now acrimony is welling up with everything else---bright and all edges.]

They were travelers, going across the universe to find a way to make themselves immortal.

[He stops there, studying Sam...and then shakes his head.] It’s not important anymore, Sam. It’s past and they’re not here.

What do you mean, it's not important?

[The question is immediate, edged with incredulity. Sam stops herself short before saying else, realizing that something's shifting---or shifted---in this conversation. She takes a moment to tamp down her disbelief, to try for a feel as to where this is going to go..]

It's past, and they're not here, but there is an off chance... And even if nothing ever comes of the off chance, it's important.

And if by chance they do come here, they will not have the same resources, and will have the law to face should they try anything against the people here. They will also have the chance to start fresh and change their ways, just as everyone should have.

[Doesn't mean he really believes they'd take it, but...yeah. Frankly he just wants her staying clear of the giant aliens and not risking herself for a grudge he doesn't even hold...]

I'm not going to argue any of that. It's not even me deciding to be diplomatic; I do agree. It's just---give me a name. Please.

[Oh, Sam...he knows you too well.]

No. His name isn't important.

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