"I'll ask Martin. I don't think we were planning to stop except for fuel until we hit the edge of Cole's former dominion, although I suppose we could drop you off when we refuel. Do you have a preference?" 

"Sooner rather than later is my preference, I think. If you're stopping for fuel, do you think there'll be other people there, maybe other ships?"

"That depends on where we stop; I can tell Martin to pick somewhere busy if you like. There is currently a 62.3% chance a randomly selected port will be Rebel-controlled, rising as we get further out—should we aim for those or avoid them?"

“Somewhere busy might be good, yeah, and I don’t mind if it’s rebel-controlled.” He scratches his chin thoughtfully. “I should probably start thinking how I’m explaining where I’ve been if I encounter anyone who recognizes me.”

"Oh, I never explain anything," the Toy Soldier says as it carries something past.

"It works fine for me!" 

Didn’t they just explain something? Honey shrugs. “Fair enough. I’ll see if that feels right whenever it happens.”

"Jolly good, old chap. You should always do what's right for you!" 

It wanders off, arms full of assorted kitchen equipment. 

"Is there anything else I should pass on to Martin?" Ivy checks, getting ready to leave.

"Or to any of the others?" 

Honey watches the Toy Soldier head away, assuming they must be planning to do some cooking elsewhere. Returning his attention to Ivy, he considers the question. “I’d appreciate if you could thank Kolya and Ashes for being particularly good hosts while I was here.”

"I'll pass it on. No personal messages for Kit or Martin? There's an 89.5% chance Martin will want to see you off, and a 47.2% chance Kit will want to do the same, so you might want to think of something to say to them." 

“I don’t intend on speaking to Kit again, but I will think on what to say to Martin.”

Nod.

Without further ado, she turns and strides off in the direction of the bridge. 

Honey will likewise exit the kitchen, with no destination in mind other than generally avoiding any areas that sound like there might be a Kit present.

The Aurora continues to be large, mazelike, and full of empty rooms. 

Would Honey like to explore...a games room, a supply closet full of dust and boxes, or a room full of mismatched chairs? If he wanders around a bit, he'll also pass at least one door marked as leading to the library. 

The games room might a good place to burn time. He'll at least explore it a bit to see what's around.

The middle of the games room is taken up by a large table covered in threadbare velvet and peeling leather. The holes seem to be deliberate, however, since they're evenly spaced and consistently sized to accommodate the painted balls that sit in a rack at one end. 

In the corner is a cabinet full of mouldering board games in disintegrating cardboard boxes. The labels he can still make out are in an alphabet that he can't read, but which he might recognise as the same one that appears on Aurora's screens. 

Most of one wall is taken up by a bank of screens. Shelving beneath the screens is split between sleeves full of discs, labelled in the same unreadable script, and a wide variety of devices with buttons and joysticks on, none of which resemble any gaming console Honey has ever used, but nevertheless clearly examples of the type. 

Honey at least is aware of video games, though he never had much time to actually explore them, since he was generally busy fighting, recovering from fighting, preparing to fight, that sort of thing. Still they seem like they're in better condition than the board games, and might be a bit easier to figure out through the language barrier, so he'll grab various discs, try and find a slot to slide them into, and see if he can find something to play.

The appropriate slot for the disc lights up, flashing yellow. Once he's inserted it, several of the screens come to life as well, as does one of the handheld controllers. 

One screen displays what are probably instructions in unreadable text. The one next to it has a series of diagrams, walking him through setting up the controller to play the game.

He'll scrounge for a controller that seems right, find a port that fits its plug, see if he associate any of the buttons, sticks, and other interfaces with anything on the screens.

The pictorial instructions are mostly adequate even without the text; they include diagrams of the controller showing where he can find the joysticks and various other important buttons. 

Pretty soon he's playing the tutorial for the game, which seems to involve flying a little spaceship through a 3D field of oddly regular debris. You move this joystick to make the ship change direction, press this button to give it a speed boost, and that other button to fire its little laser and disintegrate obstacles. 

He's fortunately never been in a position where he needed to pilot anything for real, so he can't judge whether it's particularly realistic or not. Still, it's a pleasing activity, requiring just enough thought to be engaging without being mentally exhausting. He'll play it for a long while, probably, happy to have something to occupy himself with that doesn't lead his thoughts towards recent annoyances.

Once he's past the tutorial, the game gradually speeds up, the little ship moving faster and the safe paths getting smaller and harder to hit. The chunks of debris get larger and more resilient, often taking several laser blasts to destroy. 

Eventually, he crashes, resulting in a little cartoon explosion.

It transpires that there is a leaderboard. Most of the names on it are unreadable, but one name near the top flickers a bit before turning into KOLYA. The name just above that similarly reveals itself to be KIT. 

Other bits of text are slowly being replaced with a readable translation. Would Honey like to add his score (significantly lower than either of those) to the board? Would he like to play again? 

He harrumphs to himself. It's just his first time playing. He won't bother saving this score, but he will play again, and he will (try to) score higher.

The game cooperates with this to the best of its limited ability. The text continues to be gradually translated; most of it is readable, now. 

Several hours and many game-overs later, he finally scores more than halfway up the leaderboard, only a couple of places below Kolya. 

Well, that was a bit frustrating. Honey isn't exactly bored of the game so much as he lacks the patience required by failing to immediately excel. It's just a game, he reminds himself, and finally saves his score before trying to figure out how to properly close the game and eject the disk. Once everything's put back the way it was, he'll head out of the games room and see if he can find his way back to the kitchen.