Honey proceeds on his way to whatever viewport he ends up at first, doing his best to not pay attention to the strange and unnamed feeling the conversation left him with.

From the viewport, he can see the distant stars gliding slowly past, tiny glimmers set in the deep black of empty space. If Honey cranes his neck at the right angle, other parts of the ship come into view, although it's hard to get a clear idea of the overall structure. Otherwise, there is nothing to disturb the empty vastness. 

Night and day aren't entirely real out in space, but staying up at night and looking at the stars always used to help him think, and this is a reasonable approximation.

Going to Kit is obviously not an option, there are simply too few ways for that to turn out positively. Kolya isn't a strong choice either, as Honey suspects that he will only distract him from his work until the recent events have lost their emotional salience. Ivy might have more questions for him, but it felt like they'd reached and surpassed the point of diminishing returns regarding anything he knew about. Martin would...probably be doing something that Honey could technically contribute to, but the robot (or, full-conversion cyborg he supposes) didn't seem to want help the last time he asked. The only option left would seem to be the other person he'd seen in the mess...Ashes, he thinks? Their first encounter did seem to leave a positive impression, even if it was minor. Good enough to start with.

He heads back out of the viewport and returns to wandering the ship, now with the vague intent of following any leads that he thinks might point him towards the quartermaster.

With all the wandering he's been doing, Honey is starting to get a sense of the ship's layout, or at least some areas of the ship. It doesn't take him all that long to find his way back to the more well-trafficked parts. 

Most of the doors he passes are open, some are closed, and a few are locked. 

As he passes by the storage bays, he hears someone singing in a pleasant, husky voice. The song is unfamiliar, but the singer is recognisable as Ashes. 

Honey zeroes in on the singing with quick but deliberate movement.

Ashes is in one of the storage bays, looking through the contents of a crate.

They continue singing to themself as Honey approaches. The tune is gentle and lilting, but the lyrics, once he's close enough to make them out, are a little grim. He catches something about bones screaming and blood freezing.  

It might actually not be the most gruesome thing he's heard sung. Some of the rebels liked to get really creative with singing about what they were going to do with King Cole if they got their hands on him.

Regardless, Honey isn't perturbed. He approaches quietly but not stealthily, and waits for a break in the lyrics to greet Ashes.

At the end of a verse, they finish whatever they were doing with the box and look up. 

"Oh, hey. Didn't see you there. Honey, right?" 

Honey nods. "Yeah. I was just wandering looking for something to do. Need any help with anything?"

"Sure, I could do with an extra pair of hands lifting some of these crates. That suit you?" 

Honey nods. Lifting and carrying things is honestly probably close to the top of list when it comes to stuff he prefers to do. People don't usually expect him to make decisions when he's carrying a big stack of boxes or whatever.

Indeed. Ashes is happy to direct him on where to place each box and even happier to give him the heaviest crates once they've had a chance to see how strong he is. Other than that, they don't talk much. 

"Careful with that one, it's got breakables," they say after a few minutes of silent working, as Honey is about to pick up one particular container. 

Honey takes the crate in question gingerly, as well as he's able to. Whatever's inside does feel rather precarious, just from how tricky the thing's inertia is.

Once the crate is safely in its new position, Ashes comes over to check inside it. 

"Yeah, knew there was some cool shit in here. Wanna see?" 

Honey nods. “Sure.” Looking inside boxes is another favorite.

What Ashes pulls out is a series of delicate blown-glass sculptures. Most of them are just abstract shapes: twisting around each other like tongues of fire or bubbling up in eggshell-thin clouds. There are also a few stylised animals, pretty simple but still recognisably meant to be something. 

"This one's my favourite." They hold up a little blobby dog, curled up like it's asleep. 

Honey nods, filing the bit of information away. He doesn’t know much about Ashes (or anyone) yet, but it may be key in the future. He considers if he has a favorite out of any of them, and finds that he doesn’t.

"Maybe I should pick up glassblowing again," Ashes says while packing the sculptures back in their protective wrappings. 

"You wanna learn?" they offer. "Takes a lot of breath control." 

“Sure.” Honey figured he is going to have a lot of time on his hands, judging from the last couple days, and while glass-blowing doesn’t seem like an urgently needed skill it could still be useful.

Ashes nods. "We better finish sorting this lot first."

And then they're pointing out the next box that needs moving, and it's back to work. 

Honey gets back to work promptly.

With the two of them working, it doesn't take long before Ashes steps back and sighs with satisfaction. 

"Much better," they say, looking around at the neatly organised storage bay. "Thanks for the help." 

“Happy to be of service.” Honey replies without really thinking.

"So, glassblowing? We'll have to find my old kit, first, but I've got time now if you want."