Choppers | 7
Title: Choppers 7/?
Author: girl_starfish
Rating: About PG-13.
Notes: Thanks to mikkeneko for audiencing and offering advice. You put up with so much from me -- thanks a lot. <3
Title comes from the song 'Choppers' by Headless Chickens and has nothing to do with the fic at all.
Summary: Things are not what they seem aka. Bernard forgot to mention some stuff.
“So now what? We float around looking for a ship?”
“Hardly,” Tim said, pinning up the map he’d made, all neatly sectioned off. “As you can see I’ve divided it up into units searchable in 3-4 hour shifts. If we each do two shifts a day, we should cover all the area with time to spare. I also have metal detectors and radio scanners to help with the searches.” He raised the small droid. “Simply detach, eject into space and activate remotely. The feed is visible from both the shuttle and the scout.”
Bart reached happily for the droids. Tim let him play with them. “We still have repairs to finish. Until they’re finished, I propose the shuttle stays in one place, while two of us conduct search runs in the scout.”
“Very cosy,” Bernard approved. “Couldn’t have arranged it better myself.” He was watching Kon, who was being instructed in the inner mechanical workings of the droid by Bart.
Tim was unconvinced. “Until the repairs are finished, I think either Bart or myself should be on the shuttle at all times -- we have the most mechanical skill,” he pointed out.
He was expecting a protest from Bernard but the other human just shrugged. “Well, as I don’t have much inclination to go poking round in unknown space, Kon do you want to take shift with Bart?”
“I get to search the C-3 range,” Bart reminded them all. “Tim said.”
Kon patted him on the head. “It makes sense,” he said, replying to Bernard. “I can handle radiation better than either of you two.”
“Then it’s settled.” Tim would have preferred to have Kon on the shuttle with him rather than Bernard, but it couldn’t be helped.
Kon took the droid from Bart, turning it over in his hands. “Where’s the transmitter then?”
“Here.” Bart showed him. “The manual commands are here --”
It was nice of Kon to indulge Bart. He could be surprisingly kind, given his rather calculating attitude to things. Tim blinked as Bernard picked up his charts, bringing Tim’s attention back to him. “Don’t --”
“Fear not. I won’t crinkle your pages, Tim.” Bernard flipped through the charts quickly. “You ever going to tell us what we’re looking for? There might be more than one wrecked ship out here.”
“It’s a full cruiser,” Tim said. “Cadmus division, named Zeus --”
There was a thick crunching noise. Tim and Bernard looked up in astonishment.
Kon looked at the wrecked droid in his hand and carefully gave it to Bart. “Excuse me,” he said, his face blank.
As they watched, he turned and walked out of the galley.
“Kon!” Tim said, recovering himself to hurry after him. “Wait--”
Bernard caught his arm. “Don’t,” he said, and while Tim stared at him, astonished, Bernard looked at Bart. “Go after him.”
Bart was no less astonished. “But --”
“The droid can wait,” Bernard took it from him. “What are you stuffing around for? Go to Kon.”
Sulky, Bart went.
“What --” Tim started but Bernard shook his head.
“It has to be Bart. You’re caught up in the Cadmus thing, he won’t want to talk to you till he’s calmed down,” Bernard said. “Trust me. The first hint of anything dodgy and the aliens always turn it into a them or us thing. Kon’s got to cool down first, then we can get it out of him.”
Tim frowned. It made sense but -- “Is that why you sent Bart?” he asked. “Because he’s alien too?”
Bernard nodded, pulling himself up to sit on the Captain’s console. “Also, because, will you look at him? Kid doesn’t have an excess bit of flesh anywhere on his bones. Being mad at him’s like . . . kicking puppies or something. You couldn’t do it.”
Tim blinked. That was remarkably true. “I suppose . . .”
“And there’s also the fact that the interior of Bart’s head is rather like his obsession. Vast and unmapped and filled with large areas of emptiness --”
“You’re awful,” Tim accused.
“Possibly,” Bernard shrugged. “But he is the only person aboard this ship incapable of pulling something over on someone, and Kon knows that.”
Something in his tone -- Tim narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”
“What makes you think I -- sorry,” Bernard grinned ruefully. “Forgot who I was talking to.”
Tim folded his arms and waited.
“The info files you copied to the ships computer,” Bernard said. “I hacked into them the week before we left. Too tightly encrypted for me to see much -- anyone ever tell you you’re a paranoid bugger?”
“Justified I think, given the circumstances,” Tim glared. “I can’t believe you would -- those files were locked for a reason!”
Bernard shrugged. “Hey, curiousity is my worst fault. You come in acting like you’ve got a big secret -- course I wanna know what it is.” He returned to leaning against the captain’s console. “Anyway,” he continued, showing absolutely no shame or remorse. “Didn’t help me much. All I got was that the ship was related to Cadmus and something called operation Bait, and that was it. Thought about getting Bart to help, but decided I couldn’t trust him not to blurt something out to you. So what was I to do?”
“The words ‘leave well enough alone’ ring any bells?” Tim did not take well to being one-upped, especially not by someone like Bernard. He would not make the mistake of underestimating him twice.
“Tim, Tim, Tim. Where’s the fun in that?” Bernard grinned at him. “You don’t get anywhere without taking chances.”
Tim had a very bad feeling about this. “What did you do?”
“What was that expression Kon used? Scuttlebutt?” Bernard pulled himself up to sit on the captain’s console. “As it happened, word reached me a rather attractive female of alien persuasion was raising hell on account of some unskilled grunt who had jumped ship, and she was threatening to go to Cadmus about if he didn’t turn up. Further enquiries and a judicious amount of flattery and alcohol elicited the information that aforementioned deserter was found in roughly this area, in an escape pod with a Cadmus logo.”
Tim stared. “Kon was --”
“The alien female was more angry than discreet,” Bernard continued thoughtfully. “I hope she doesn’t catch up with Kon, she’s got a temper and then some. Anyway, I also found out the name of her Captain, and, in purchasing his cargo, let it slip that we were taking a small unregistered vessel into free space -- I was hoping, you see, that the deserter would have friends among the crew keeping a look out for a suitable post and--” Bernard flashed Tim a grin. “As they say in old movies, budda-bing--”
Tim nodded slowly. “Rather a coincidence that the Captain was forced to abandon his scheduled trade run,” he said, studying Bernard’s face carefully.
His companion merely grinned. “I’m not saying anything.”
This did not make Tim feel any happier. “So you deliberately engineered Kon joining the crew because you hacked into my files, misleading both him and myself in the process -- and doing who knows what else in the meantime -- why?”
“I thought it could be useful.”
“What?”
“Look, Tim. Don’t get me wrong. You’re in charge and I respect that but it’s in my interests as much as yours that this succeed, so I’m going to do what it takes to make that happen,” Bernard said matter-of-factly. “Including the things that you can’t.” He waggled a finger at him. “You forget I’m not bound by League restrictions.”
Tim hated when Bernard had a point. “I do not like being misled,” he said coldly. “If you do something like this again--”
“Says the guy who so far has told us zip about this whole deal?” Bernard raised an eyebrow at him. “Go, talk to Kon. He’ll be calm enough to hear you out now.”
Tim, although inclined to do the opposite of whatever Bernard suggested, recognised that this suggestion had merit. It only made him more annoyed.
---
Bart and Kon were in the furthest corner of the hold. Kon was sitting with his back against the wall, Bart curled against his side with Kon stroking his hair as though Bart were a cat. Neither stirred as Tim entered, and he watched them a moment, before chosing the wall beside Kon to sit against.
Kon’s face had lost it’s tight anger, but he was still obviously resentful. “I was played, wasn’t I?” he said, and Bart lifted his head slightly to hear Tim’s answer. “I’m not smart, I know that, but all the same . . . I don’t like being used.”
“We were both played,” Tim offered as sympathy. “I didn’t know either.”
“Well, at least I’m in good company. If he could pull one over you --” Kon paused. “I wouldn’t have come if I’d known,” he said. “I never wanted to return here.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Fat lot of good that does now. We’re here and there’s not much I can do about it.”
Tim was silent sympathetically. There wasn’t a lot they could do. Turning back now was out of the question. “It’s . . . was it really that bad?”
Kon said nothing.
“You can stay aboard ship when we explore it,” Tim said. “It shouldn’t take me long to locate what I’m looking for.”
“I’ll help,” Bart offered unexpectedly. “So we can finish quicker.”
Kon let his hand rest on Bart’s shoulder. “Thanks, man,” he said. “But I’m good.” He sighed. “No use sticking around down here. We got stuff to do yeah?”
Tim nodded and watched as Bart uncurled to let Kon stand, and watched as Kon patted him on the head, and pulled him after him. Dick had told him to work out what he wanted. He knew now.
But how to go after it?
---
They tossed a coin the next morning for who got shuttle or scout. To Bart’s great joy, he and Kon were to take the scout out for the first search.
“Gaseous stars,” Bart told Tim happily, as he did a brief check of the scout’s tank and instruments. “Pulsars. Nebula quadrant --”
“I know, I know.” Tim was smiling as he checked the scout was suitable. Bernard was right, Bart could be annoying but it was very hard to be mad at him. “You might want to slow down enough that Kon has time to map things.”
“What are the odds of that?” Kon said, giving Tim an amused smile over Bart’s head. He’d regained some of his good humour, due mostly to Bart’s unfeigned excitement.
It was somehow contagious. Tim found his own mood had improved as well, but that was nothing to how much Bart had improved. He’d gained weight since their departure, still scrawny but less painfully so, and lost some of his desperate determination. You hardly ever had to pry him out of the pilot’s chair now, and conversation with him was almost possible. Of course, as Bernard had predicted, he still took every opportunity he could to play (there was no other word to describe it) in free-space but he had been persuaded to remember the safety cable.
Kon played perhaps as big a part in this change as simply being in space did. Whenever the two aliens were together, Kon was unfailingly kind, gently guiding Bart in whatever it was he thought Bart should know, or listening to him talk about unmapped galaxies or star systems.
Tim, who’d never needed or wanted anyone found himself thinking fondly of Dick, and the occasional heads up he passed Tim’s way. “Kon, I’m putting you in charge of the droids and the coordinates. If you find something, page us. The console radio will be open at all times, and I’m wearing a personal transmitter coded to the console frequency --”
“And I’ll be here too,” Bernard quipped from the doorway. He and Kon had made an uneasy peace, but things still felt awkward.
Kon nodded, climbing into the scout after Bart. “We’ll see you later, then,” he said, adding as an afterthought, “There’s lunch in the heating unit.”
“Definitely a keeper, that one,” Bernard remarked as he and Tim returned to the flight deck. “Don’t you agree?”
Tim gave him a scathing look. “You can say that after what you did?”
“Woah! Tim!” Bernard put his hands to his chest. “You wound me! Look, Kon’s forgiven me. Won’t you?”
“Kon’s too nice,” Tim said shortly, making as if to shut the door to the flight deck after him.
Bernard manevered his way in before Tim had the chance. “Yeah, but he understands. Sure, he’s a nice guy and I like him and all, but this is business. Come on, Tim. Work with me here.” Bernard crossed his arms and watched Tim pull out his charts. “You’re worse about this than Kon was,” he accused.
“Someone has to be,” Tim said and found himself wondering why the words sounded so familiar. “You can’t just . . . use Kon like that. Bart either.” He looked at Bernard severely. “I want you to give Bart a wage and pay Kon before we get back to Orange.”
From the way Bernard carried on, you’d have thought Tim was asking him to bankrupt himself. The resulting drama took the better half of the morning. Tim suspected Bernard of enjoying himself.
This was confirmed when Bernard sighed gustily and acceded to Tim’s demands, then suggested they go get naked together. Tim was, needless to say, not impressed.
“You’re shameless,” he told Bernard who merely nodded.
“Wouldn’t have me any other way.”
---
They had one chirpy report from Bart, around lunchtime, something incoherent about a comet, and then nothing. Tim sat in the flight deck watching the clock. It was about time for them to turn around now -- of course, he didn’t expect them to find something on the first day, but he did think Kon at least would remember to let them know when they were turning round. Just as he’d come to the conclusion that one or the other of them had decided to try free-surfing or something equally stupid, the transmission set crackled.
“Um -- Tim?” Kon’s voice, sounding unsure.
“Reading you loud and clear, Kon,” Tim replied crisply and efficiently.
“Yeah. Um --” Kon sounded like he had when Tim had found him and Bart in the hold, facing an unwelcome reality. “Look, you’d better bring the shuttle. There’s something here you need to see.”
“You can’t have found it already --”
“It’s not -- it’s not the Zeus, Tim. This is something else. It’s a ship, wrecked -- really, you have to come.”
“Patch me your coordinates.” Tim said, kicking the thrusters into life, and paging Bernard. “We’re on our way.”
“What’s the hurry?” Bernard said, leisurely making his way to the hold. “It’s not like your ship’ll be going anywhere.”
“Kon sounded off,” Tim said. “Upset.”
Bernard glanced at him quickly. “What -- Kon? Are you sure?” He took the Captain’s chair without any further protest. “He did have some warning,” he said thoughtfully. “You’d think he’d be prepared for it at least. Enough that he’d hold himself together --”
“Exactly,” Tim said. “I don’t think it’s the ship.”
---
Author: girl_starfish
Rating: About PG-13.
Notes: Thanks to mikkeneko for audiencing and offering advice. You put up with so much from me -- thanks a lot. <3
Title comes from the song 'Choppers' by Headless Chickens and has nothing to do with the fic at all.
Summary: Things are not what they seem aka. Bernard forgot to mention some stuff.
“So now what? We float around looking for a ship?”
“Hardly,” Tim said, pinning up the map he’d made, all neatly sectioned off. “As you can see I’ve divided it up into units searchable in 3-4 hour shifts. If we each do two shifts a day, we should cover all the area with time to spare. I also have metal detectors and radio scanners to help with the searches.” He raised the small droid. “Simply detach, eject into space and activate remotely. The feed is visible from both the shuttle and the scout.”
Bart reached happily for the droids. Tim let him play with them. “We still have repairs to finish. Until they’re finished, I propose the shuttle stays in one place, while two of us conduct search runs in the scout.”
“Very cosy,” Bernard approved. “Couldn’t have arranged it better myself.” He was watching Kon, who was being instructed in the inner mechanical workings of the droid by Bart.
Tim was unconvinced. “Until the repairs are finished, I think either Bart or myself should be on the shuttle at all times -- we have the most mechanical skill,” he pointed out.
He was expecting a protest from Bernard but the other human just shrugged. “Well, as I don’t have much inclination to go poking round in unknown space, Kon do you want to take shift with Bart?”
“I get to search the C-3 range,” Bart reminded them all. “Tim said.”
Kon patted him on the head. “It makes sense,” he said, replying to Bernard. “I can handle radiation better than either of you two.”
“Then it’s settled.” Tim would have preferred to have Kon on the shuttle with him rather than Bernard, but it couldn’t be helped.
Kon took the droid from Bart, turning it over in his hands. “Where’s the transmitter then?”
“Here.” Bart showed him. “The manual commands are here --”
It was nice of Kon to indulge Bart. He could be surprisingly kind, given his rather calculating attitude to things. Tim blinked as Bernard picked up his charts, bringing Tim’s attention back to him. “Don’t --”
“Fear not. I won’t crinkle your pages, Tim.” Bernard flipped through the charts quickly. “You ever going to tell us what we’re looking for? There might be more than one wrecked ship out here.”
“It’s a full cruiser,” Tim said. “Cadmus division, named Zeus --”
There was a thick crunching noise. Tim and Bernard looked up in astonishment.
Kon looked at the wrecked droid in his hand and carefully gave it to Bart. “Excuse me,” he said, his face blank.
As they watched, he turned and walked out of the galley.
“Kon!” Tim said, recovering himself to hurry after him. “Wait--”
Bernard caught his arm. “Don’t,” he said, and while Tim stared at him, astonished, Bernard looked at Bart. “Go after him.”
Bart was no less astonished. “But --”
“The droid can wait,” Bernard took it from him. “What are you stuffing around for? Go to Kon.”
Sulky, Bart went.
“What --” Tim started but Bernard shook his head.
“It has to be Bart. You’re caught up in the Cadmus thing, he won’t want to talk to you till he’s calmed down,” Bernard said. “Trust me. The first hint of anything dodgy and the aliens always turn it into a them or us thing. Kon’s got to cool down first, then we can get it out of him.”
Tim frowned. It made sense but -- “Is that why you sent Bart?” he asked. “Because he’s alien too?”
Bernard nodded, pulling himself up to sit on the Captain’s console. “Also, because, will you look at him? Kid doesn’t have an excess bit of flesh anywhere on his bones. Being mad at him’s like . . . kicking puppies or something. You couldn’t do it.”
Tim blinked. That was remarkably true. “I suppose . . .”
“And there’s also the fact that the interior of Bart’s head is rather like his obsession. Vast and unmapped and filled with large areas of emptiness --”
“You’re awful,” Tim accused.
“Possibly,” Bernard shrugged. “But he is the only person aboard this ship incapable of pulling something over on someone, and Kon knows that.”
Something in his tone -- Tim narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”
“What makes you think I -- sorry,” Bernard grinned ruefully. “Forgot who I was talking to.”
Tim folded his arms and waited.
“The info files you copied to the ships computer,” Bernard said. “I hacked into them the week before we left. Too tightly encrypted for me to see much -- anyone ever tell you you’re a paranoid bugger?”
“Justified I think, given the circumstances,” Tim glared. “I can’t believe you would -- those files were locked for a reason!”
Bernard shrugged. “Hey, curiousity is my worst fault. You come in acting like you’ve got a big secret -- course I wanna know what it is.” He returned to leaning against the captain’s console. “Anyway,” he continued, showing absolutely no shame or remorse. “Didn’t help me much. All I got was that the ship was related to Cadmus and something called operation Bait, and that was it. Thought about getting Bart to help, but decided I couldn’t trust him not to blurt something out to you. So what was I to do?”
“The words ‘leave well enough alone’ ring any bells?” Tim did not take well to being one-upped, especially not by someone like Bernard. He would not make the mistake of underestimating him twice.
“Tim, Tim, Tim. Where’s the fun in that?” Bernard grinned at him. “You don’t get anywhere without taking chances.”
Tim had a very bad feeling about this. “What did you do?”
“What was that expression Kon used? Scuttlebutt?” Bernard pulled himself up to sit on the captain’s console. “As it happened, word reached me a rather attractive female of alien persuasion was raising hell on account of some unskilled grunt who had jumped ship, and she was threatening to go to Cadmus about if he didn’t turn up. Further enquiries and a judicious amount of flattery and alcohol elicited the information that aforementioned deserter was found in roughly this area, in an escape pod with a Cadmus logo.”
Tim stared. “Kon was --”
“The alien female was more angry than discreet,” Bernard continued thoughtfully. “I hope she doesn’t catch up with Kon, she’s got a temper and then some. Anyway, I also found out the name of her Captain, and, in purchasing his cargo, let it slip that we were taking a small unregistered vessel into free space -- I was hoping, you see, that the deserter would have friends among the crew keeping a look out for a suitable post and--” Bernard flashed Tim a grin. “As they say in old movies, budda-bing--”
Tim nodded slowly. “Rather a coincidence that the Captain was forced to abandon his scheduled trade run,” he said, studying Bernard’s face carefully.
His companion merely grinned. “I’m not saying anything.”
This did not make Tim feel any happier. “So you deliberately engineered Kon joining the crew because you hacked into my files, misleading both him and myself in the process -- and doing who knows what else in the meantime -- why?”
“I thought it could be useful.”
“What?”
“Look, Tim. Don’t get me wrong. You’re in charge and I respect that but it’s in my interests as much as yours that this succeed, so I’m going to do what it takes to make that happen,” Bernard said matter-of-factly. “Including the things that you can’t.” He waggled a finger at him. “You forget I’m not bound by League restrictions.”
Tim hated when Bernard had a point. “I do not like being misled,” he said coldly. “If you do something like this again--”
“Says the guy who so far has told us zip about this whole deal?” Bernard raised an eyebrow at him. “Go, talk to Kon. He’ll be calm enough to hear you out now.”
Tim, although inclined to do the opposite of whatever Bernard suggested, recognised that this suggestion had merit. It only made him more annoyed.
---
Bart and Kon were in the furthest corner of the hold. Kon was sitting with his back against the wall, Bart curled against his side with Kon stroking his hair as though Bart were a cat. Neither stirred as Tim entered, and he watched them a moment, before chosing the wall beside Kon to sit against.
Kon’s face had lost it’s tight anger, but he was still obviously resentful. “I was played, wasn’t I?” he said, and Bart lifted his head slightly to hear Tim’s answer. “I’m not smart, I know that, but all the same . . . I don’t like being used.”
“We were both played,” Tim offered as sympathy. “I didn’t know either.”
“Well, at least I’m in good company. If he could pull one over you --” Kon paused. “I wouldn’t have come if I’d known,” he said. “I never wanted to return here.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Fat lot of good that does now. We’re here and there’s not much I can do about it.”
Tim was silent sympathetically. There wasn’t a lot they could do. Turning back now was out of the question. “It’s . . . was it really that bad?”
Kon said nothing.
“You can stay aboard ship when we explore it,” Tim said. “It shouldn’t take me long to locate what I’m looking for.”
“I’ll help,” Bart offered unexpectedly. “So we can finish quicker.”
Kon let his hand rest on Bart’s shoulder. “Thanks, man,” he said. “But I’m good.” He sighed. “No use sticking around down here. We got stuff to do yeah?”
Tim nodded and watched as Bart uncurled to let Kon stand, and watched as Kon patted him on the head, and pulled him after him. Dick had told him to work out what he wanted. He knew now.
But how to go after it?
---
They tossed a coin the next morning for who got shuttle or scout. To Bart’s great joy, he and Kon were to take the scout out for the first search.
“Gaseous stars,” Bart told Tim happily, as he did a brief check of the scout’s tank and instruments. “Pulsars. Nebula quadrant --”
“I know, I know.” Tim was smiling as he checked the scout was suitable. Bernard was right, Bart could be annoying but it was very hard to be mad at him. “You might want to slow down enough that Kon has time to map things.”
“What are the odds of that?” Kon said, giving Tim an amused smile over Bart’s head. He’d regained some of his good humour, due mostly to Bart’s unfeigned excitement.
It was somehow contagious. Tim found his own mood had improved as well, but that was nothing to how much Bart had improved. He’d gained weight since their departure, still scrawny but less painfully so, and lost some of his desperate determination. You hardly ever had to pry him out of the pilot’s chair now, and conversation with him was almost possible. Of course, as Bernard had predicted, he still took every opportunity he could to play (there was no other word to describe it) in free-space but he had been persuaded to remember the safety cable.
Kon played perhaps as big a part in this change as simply being in space did. Whenever the two aliens were together, Kon was unfailingly kind, gently guiding Bart in whatever it was he thought Bart should know, or listening to him talk about unmapped galaxies or star systems.
Tim, who’d never needed or wanted anyone found himself thinking fondly of Dick, and the occasional heads up he passed Tim’s way. “Kon, I’m putting you in charge of the droids and the coordinates. If you find something, page us. The console radio will be open at all times, and I’m wearing a personal transmitter coded to the console frequency --”
“And I’ll be here too,” Bernard quipped from the doorway. He and Kon had made an uneasy peace, but things still felt awkward.
Kon nodded, climbing into the scout after Bart. “We’ll see you later, then,” he said, adding as an afterthought, “There’s lunch in the heating unit.”
“Definitely a keeper, that one,” Bernard remarked as he and Tim returned to the flight deck. “Don’t you agree?”
Tim gave him a scathing look. “You can say that after what you did?”
“Woah! Tim!” Bernard put his hands to his chest. “You wound me! Look, Kon’s forgiven me. Won’t you?”
“Kon’s too nice,” Tim said shortly, making as if to shut the door to the flight deck after him.
Bernard manevered his way in before Tim had the chance. “Yeah, but he understands. Sure, he’s a nice guy and I like him and all, but this is business. Come on, Tim. Work with me here.” Bernard crossed his arms and watched Tim pull out his charts. “You’re worse about this than Kon was,” he accused.
“Someone has to be,” Tim said and found himself wondering why the words sounded so familiar. “You can’t just . . . use Kon like that. Bart either.” He looked at Bernard severely. “I want you to give Bart a wage and pay Kon before we get back to Orange.”
From the way Bernard carried on, you’d have thought Tim was asking him to bankrupt himself. The resulting drama took the better half of the morning. Tim suspected Bernard of enjoying himself.
This was confirmed when Bernard sighed gustily and acceded to Tim’s demands, then suggested they go get naked together. Tim was, needless to say, not impressed.
“You’re shameless,” he told Bernard who merely nodded.
“Wouldn’t have me any other way.”
---
They had one chirpy report from Bart, around lunchtime, something incoherent about a comet, and then nothing. Tim sat in the flight deck watching the clock. It was about time for them to turn around now -- of course, he didn’t expect them to find something on the first day, but he did think Kon at least would remember to let them know when they were turning round. Just as he’d come to the conclusion that one or the other of them had decided to try free-surfing or something equally stupid, the transmission set crackled.
“Um -- Tim?” Kon’s voice, sounding unsure.
“Reading you loud and clear, Kon,” Tim replied crisply and efficiently.
“Yeah. Um --” Kon sounded like he had when Tim had found him and Bart in the hold, facing an unwelcome reality. “Look, you’d better bring the shuttle. There’s something here you need to see.”
“You can’t have found it already --”
“It’s not -- it’s not the Zeus, Tim. This is something else. It’s a ship, wrecked -- really, you have to come.”
“Patch me your coordinates.” Tim said, kicking the thrusters into life, and paging Bernard. “We’re on our way.”
“What’s the hurry?” Bernard said, leisurely making his way to the hold. “It’s not like your ship’ll be going anywhere.”
“Kon sounded off,” Tim said. “Upset.”
Bernard glanced at him quickly. “What -- Kon? Are you sure?” He took the Captain’s chair without any further protest. “He did have some warning,” he said thoughtfully. “You’d think he’d be prepared for it at least. Enough that he’d hold himself together --”
“Exactly,” Tim said. “I don’t think it’s the ship.”
---