With nothing to do for the next three hours or so, you head for your bed. The shuttle flight wasn't too restful, due in large part to your Dream, and a few hours rest would do you good. The bed proves nice and cozy, and you quickly drift off to dreamless, and more importantly Dreamless, sleep.

Eight hours later, you awaken feeling well rested. A quick shower in your quarter's washroom and a fresh set of robes later, and you are ready to begin your day. With five hours until the projected Transit time, you decide to locate breakfast. The staff is an auto-equip, as is your relic laspistol. The hellpistol stays in the arms chest, as its increased penetration is as likely to go through a bulkhead into something important as through an armored target. Stopping power is nice, but not at the cost of blowing away the local life support relay.

Properly outfitted and equipped, you stop for a moment. You have no idea where the officer's mess is, if you are even welcome there, or if you are expected to summon a servant to bring you food. You sigh. Ethna is a good sort, and you should probably message her, but she is probably tied up with Bishop Rynald in some fashion. Which means XO Ekhi is busy doing the actual work of running the ship. That leaves asking a servant or a data-search though the Ignis' database. You promptly discard asking a servant. They may be everywhere, see everything, and know everything, but your mere asking would have better-than-even odds of spreading as rumors before you even got breakfast. Which only leaves the data search.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

You grumble in frustration, and turn back to the terminal. You have had to do some of this work before, so you know that generic search terms will turn up too much data, and specific ones not enough. So you type in a string of search terms you have used successfully in the past on other ships: "Damage Control Map". This pulls up far too much information, as it includes not only the rooms and passages, but also the ducting and wiring and thousand-and-three things groundsiders never think of as being needed parts of a ship.

The overwhelming advantage of using it is that it leaves nothing out. When the terminal obligingly beeps and displays the results of your search, you have at your fingertips a map that includes every compartment, every duct, and every passageway. The dining spaces are included, of course, and you quickly note the other facilities. The list is far longer than you would normally expect. A Orion-class star clipper like the Ignis usually has four to six supplemental facilities. The Ignis has sixteen. You have little idea how such a feat could actually be achieved, but it does speak of a high degree of miniaturization and optimization usually only seen in Adeptus Mechanicus Ships. Or, you think as the words Deathwatch Private Quarters catch your eyes, an Inquisition ship. Faunia has some explaining to do the next time you sit down, but at first glance it looks like Inquisitor Ironsides got Archmagos Explorator Echo to build a covert transport, with a cover as a fast and efficient cargo hauler.

You glance about for a dataslate to download your map onto, and come up empty. You will need to pick one up for later. In the meantime, breakfast is calling your name, and you still have another four hours or so before the translation.