Circa OUATIS, the Mechanisms pick up some doofus who it is inconveniently difficult to kill. His name is Honey.
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In retrospect, maybe trying to help aboard that Rebel ship wasn't the best idea. Sure, Honey is strong and tough, which aren't completely useless on a ship, but the durability of a single personnel isn't really a meaningful difference in, for example, ship to ship combat.

Honey would feel proud for coming to that realization, if it happened before the ship he'd been on had been blown to smithereens. No, it had only occurred to him after...who knows how many hours adrift. To be fair, he had been busy with trying put out fires before the ship exploded, and afterwards he had just been alone with his thou—

Uuogh. That was a hard impact. He must have picked up speed after getting flung out of the debris. Quite a bit of speed. Shaking off the shock, Honey slowly gripped the surface he'd stuck to and started to pull himself off. He was just about to fling himself clear of it when he realized what he hit. Another ship! Slammed right into the viewport, too. He thought he could just about make out someone looking at him from inside.

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The someone, a gleaming brass robot in a top hat, seems just as surprised to see Honey as the reverse. He shouts something off to the side, the words inaudible through the viewport screen. A brief argument with an unseen person ensues, which ends with the robot getting up and leaving Honey's field of vision.

A short time later, he emerges from an airlock on the ship's exterior, a cable attached to his belt, and begins making his way towards Honey with the aid of a jetpack. 

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If his lungs hadn't been evacuated a while ago, Honey might have sighed in relief. He was figuring that there were about even odds that he was going to have to suffer through reentry, that he was going to burn up in a star, or that he was just going to drift forever. But! It looked like he beat the odds.

Honey brings a hand up in greeting, and then gently tosses himself in the direction of the robot.

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The robot catches him, reeling them both in with the cable. Once they're safely in the airlock and the air pressure is high enough for Honey to breathe, he speaks. 

"Do you need medical attention, or will you be alright?" 

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Honey takes a moment or two to force some air into his lungs before responding. "I'll be fine."

Straightening up his posture a bit, he offers a handshake. "Thanks for bringing me in. I'm Honey."

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"It was no trouble! I'm Martin." His hand is covered by a glove, and moves with the same articulation as a human's, but feels like metal beneath the fabric.

"It's a pleasure—and a surprise—to meet you. Are you immortal, or merely durable?" 

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Honey gives a firm shake, though not enough to have hurt even if Martin were a human. "Haven't been killed yet, though I haven't been trying too hard either."

He looks around, taking in the airlock and what he can see of the inside through the hatch window. "I take it that there's more to this place than just an airlock?"

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"Of course—although, if you've not yet tested your mortality," Martin says as he opens the door, "you should possibly duck if you meet any of my crewmates. Anyway, welcome to the Aurora." 

The hallway beyond the hatch is of a design subtly unlike any ship Honey has been on before. It seems almost organic, as though the lines and panels on the walls grew in place rather than being put there by human hands. Martin waves for Honey to follow him down the corridor. 

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Honey doesn't bother mentioning that, while he hasn't been 'testing' himself, he has been actively participating in a war, on the front lines. If he gets shot, it won't be his first time. Regardless, he follows Martin to wherever he's taking him.

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Wherever they're going, it's a bit of a walk. They don't pass anyone else on the way. 

"Is there anywhere you need to be? Should we be dropping you off somewhere in particular? I'm afraid I can't guarantee a precise timeframe, especially if it's out of the system."

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Honey ponders that for a moment. His first instinct is to ask if they can bring him back to the nearest Rebel base, but aside from not knowing whether saying that would get him spaced again, he isn't really sure whether he can be of much more use to the rebellion.

"Not really. My last plan didn't work out too well, so I think I might just wander for a while."

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"Well, I'm not the only one who has a say in it, but perhaps you could travel with us for now? We do tend to wander quite a lot." 

They reach a door marked LIBRARY. A handwritten sign reading NO GUNS is taped underneath. Next to the door is a box labelled GUNS, currently empty. 

Martin, who doesn't appear to be carrying a gun, walks right in. 

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Honey nods at that. He can live with either possibility.

Once at the door, Honey quickly pats himself down. He could have sworn that he'd held onto a gun after the Prospero got blown up, but he guesses he lost track of it sometime in the intervening days. Finding himself unarmed, Honey follows Martin through the door.

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The library is big. This is quite possibly the most books Honey has ever seen in one place. It's a bit of a maze, but Martin seems to know where he's going. 

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Honey's not much of a book person, and he doesn't want to get lost in here, so he's focused on following Martin.

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And then they turn a corner to find a young woman tucked into an alcove, reading a very old book. 

She looks up, smiles at Martin, then sees Honey and raises an eyebrow. 

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Honey waves a greeting silently. It's a library after all, don't want to disturb the quiet.

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"Ivy, this is Honey. I saw him floating in space and he wasn't dead, so I brought him inside. Honey, this is Ivy Alexandria, our ship's archivist and navigator." 

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Ivy puts down her book and looks at Honey more closely.

"I don't see any mechanical parts. How are you still alive?" 

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Honey shrugs. "I've been tough and strong for as long as I can remember. Never really wondered why."

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"Hmm." Her tone suggests that she finds this an unsatisfying answer. "How tough, and how strong? Have you tested?" 

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"At least let the boy sit down before you start bombarding him with questions," Martin says, shifting a few books to make space for Honey on the seat opposite Ivy. 

"Honey, would you like anything to eat or drink? I can leave you here talking to Ivy while I fetch something from the kitchen, if that's alright with both of you." (Ivy nods distractedly while rearranging the books he moved.) 

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Being called a 'boy' rattles Honey, just a bit. He's a grown man. But, he doesn't comment on it, and takes the seat offered. "Yes, both please. And, no, I've never bothered testing it, not intentionally anyway. I haven't been living the safest life I could have been, either."

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"Well, was there anything else that should have killed you but didn't?" 

(Martin leaves, presumably to fetch food and drink.) 

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"Well, I suppose the most recent was being spaced for a few days. The ship I was on exploding also probably should have killed me on its own. I've been shot more than a few times and never really been much worse for wear. Old King Cole had his way with me for a couple years and he didn't manage to do any lasting damage before I escaped...Nothing else really comes to mind."

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That gets her attention. "You met King Cole and lived? Tell me everything." 

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