"Uh...dark. It was pretty solidly built, not a lot holes in it, that was why it was nice to stay in compared to a lean-to or something. No power, though, so the insides were all pitch black. The outside was all bumpy, with wires and stuff coming out of it, which I guess could have been comms antennae, not that they worked. Not much rust or wear either, so it must have been made of tough stuff."

Ivy asks a few more questions, trying to pull out any details that might suggest the ship's origin, but gets nowhere.

"And there was nothing else identifying about it?" 

Honey shrugs, as he has likely done multiple times over the past couple minutes. "Nothing I can remember. I'd say sorry, but honestly, if I had that kind of information to give King Cole would probably have his hands on it by now, which I think I'd rather he not."

"At least that would have been interesting," Ivy sighs. "I hate dead ends." 

"Speaking of interesting," someone says, "I heard we had a stowaway." 

The new arrival leans on a bookcase a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest. His right arm is metal, of the same design as Martin's visible parts. 

Honey quickly looks to the unfamiliar person, then back to Ivy, then back to the person.

"Hello?" He says cautiously.

(Ivy is rolling her eyes, and seems neither surprised nor alarmed.) 

"Kit Sinistre," the newcomer introduces himself, with a bow. "Captain of the Aurora." 

"First Mate," Ivy corrects mildly. 

Honey stands up from his seat and offers his right hand for a handshake. "Honey."

They shake. Kit's metal hand is cold and solid, with a noticeably stronger grip than a regular human. 

"And what brings you here, Honey?" 

Honey matches Kit's grip, just like his parents taught him to.

"Well, the last ship I was on exploded, and I happened to get tossed on a trajectory straight to you. A bit of good luck, that."

He steps back and looks Honey up and down, mostly checking for signs of damage but quite obviously also checking out his muscles. 

"You don't look like you just got shot through open space. More 'good luck'?" 

Honey’s posture closes up a bit under the inspection. “I guess, though not quite same sort. I’ve been talking about that with Ivy here, among other things.”

Kit raises an eyebrow at Ivy. 

"He doesn't have a mechanism, but he's survived things that would kill most mortals, including bullets to the chest, explosions, and several days in vacuum," she summarises. "He doesn't know why, and Cole's 'doctors' didn't find anything either; my best guess is environmental factors during gestation and childhood. Also, he's fought on both sides of Cole's war, so I've been asking him about battle tactics."

"...interesting." 

He turns back to Honey. "Anything to add?" 

Honey shakes his head. "No, sir."

Kit looks like he's about to say something, then shakes his head. 

"...let's leave Ivy in peace," he says with a smile. "Walk with me?" 

Honey nods, and proceeds to follow Kit wherever it is he’s leading.

Kit takes them on a wandering path through the library, heading in the vague direction of the exit. 

"Did Martin and Ivy explain...anything, or did they just ask you a lot of questions?" 

Honey shrugs. “What sort of explanation would I need? I’ve gathered so far that ‘mortal’ is something the crew isn’t. Anything else I should know?”

He laughs. "That's a decent start. You've met Martin, and me, so you've noticed at least some of us are partly mechanical." He wiggles his metal fingers demonstratively. 

"Everyone on this ship, apart from you, is a cyborg. We used to be human, and mortal, before we died and were...improved...by a biomechanical scientist. So now we're all immortal! That means we come back when we die, we heal fast, aaaand we don't age. However old you think any of us are, multiply it by at least ten." 

Honey nods, though his mood grows a little darker. “Good to know, sir.”

"So, are you planning on sticking around?" Kit asks casually. "Or are we dropping you off next time we make port?" 

“I don’t really have anywhere else to be, and I figure that being an extra pair of hands is better than being nothing in particular, so I was hoping to stay.”

He nods, in a 'that makes sense' sort of way. "Any particular talents or inclinations?"