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"Alternative Directions: Options "Written By: Karina Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the lovely
boys and their girls in the series. Wish I did. Please don't sue me.
I haven't even got a brass razoo to give you. Rating: Deffinately PG in Australia, at the moment,
but probably safer to say R for later chapters. Not sure about international
ratings Warnings: It will be 6x2, even though it does
not start out that way. After all, Zechs and Duo never met in Gundam
Wing and only spoke briefly over a com line in Endless Waltz. I've
tried to keep them in character as I saw them in the series. A bit
of language creeping in under stressful conditions. Pairings: eventual 6x2, past 2xH, 2+H,6x9, 1+R
Summary: Directions is set post Endless Waltz
and roughly 2 years have passed. Zechs and Noin are on Mars and Duo,
after spending some time with Hilde in a relationship leaves L2 to
join Preventers. Hilde was not happy about his decision. I guess enough
said. Here t'is, and I hope you like it. This is also AU for the standard
setting, as well as the series and Endless Waltz. Spoilers: Gundam Wing Series and Endless Waltz Many thanks to Dulin for volunteering to beta this. //... // thoughts
"Alternative Directions: Options"
Preventer Patrol Cruiser E106 Bounty Date 2nd March AC 198 Time: 12:53 Bounty Ship Time [Peacemission time 09:38] Duo It would take a while for him to become accustomed to the everyday living conditions on the ship. Right now there was a modicum of gravity maintained onboard, though it was barely sufficient to keep him from feeling that his innards were free floating about. He was fortunate in that space sickness had never particularly bothered him, but the initial queasiness upon entering a full zero-gravity field would be a nuisance for an hour or two. Until the health requirements of each individual on the Bounty had been evaluated the ship would maintain this minimum level of gravity. He would have a day or three before full zero-g was initiated and if he was lucky he might even manage to get a decent night’s sleep in before then. Unfortunately the gravity would be maintained at this low level in the bulk of the ship. Only the medical bay and adjacent sections would maintain a heavier gravity load, being at the core of the spin required to produce gravity. If he wanted to feel up from down he would have to lurk in the Medical Centre and he was not inclined to brave a meeting with the horrendous woman they called the Chief Medical Officer unless he had to. Low gravity and. Duo acknowledged, this was next to no gravity was all well and good, but it curtailed certain pleasurable activities he was not particularly happy to live without. One such activity it ruled out was the simple pleasure of enjoying a shower and that was the one thing he now felt the need for. He wanted to stand beneath free flowing water; steaming hot, just off scalding and with enough force to act as a massage to ease aching muscles. It would be wonderful to allow a hot shower to soothe his physical aches and pains. High acceleration burns, such as were required to thrust the Bounty onto her course in time to catch the orbit of Mars at a set time and date, were never pleasant. He would be feeling the effects of the acceleration for days after the ship was settled to its course and speed. To his knowledge the ship’s schedule called for the acceleration burns to take place during the rostered night phases of the ship. It was the time of day the least number of crew were active and many of the old hands onboard would not even stir when the burns initiated. Duo did not doubt he would be feeling the effects in his bones and muscles for most of the first week onboard. The Sweeper Family Ships maintained ship board gravity at all times and his only other space encounters were in the shuttles that flitted between the Colonies and Earth. Before now he had never sustained high acceleration procedures. Duo glared at the wipe in his hand and sighed, inclining his head back and rolled it slowly around, feeling the pull on tight muscles. He would need to work out a little at some time to try to ease the aches and pains with somatic stretch exercises and possibly a little yoga. He would start off slowly until he grew accustomed to the gravity, so as not to embarrass himself by bouncing off the walls and ceilings. “You are a pretty poor excuse for a shower, but I guess you are the best I am going to do.” Preventers Space Division provided their spacer crews with refresher wipes for hygiene use in their cabins. The ship’s bathrooms, where showers could be taken, were sectioned within the Medical Centre, where the gravity was maintained at a level where water could run and not float free in amusing globules. The Ensign had informed him everyone was expected to log in with the Medical Centre once a week for a full shower routine. He would look forward to his turn and the utter luxury of being able to wash his hair, but for day to day cleanliness the cabin wipes were deemed sufficient. Lotions were impregnated within the fine fabric to clean, freshen and also moisturize the body. The early spacers had discovered their skin had a tendency to dry out with prolonged space flight and the long term use of conditioned air systems. The power needs to run a ship the size of the Bounty were carefully monitored and additional power to run humidifiers balanced to meet the needs of the crew had been considered exorbitant; a waste of money and fuel. Dehumidifiers, however, were required and gathered the moisture from perspiration and the crew’s breath from the air, siphoning it into the water recycling plant. With cost effectiveness in mind the powers that be had decided medicated moisturizers in synthetic towelets could be used to cleanse the body and keep people smelling and feeling clean. The wipes were a reusable synthetic material which, after use, were to be disposed of down a recycling chute. The used material would be gathered, laundered, fumigated and laundered again, then reimpregnated with cleaning and moisturizing solutions. Every seven days wipes would be reissued to the personal cabins, washrooms and dining hall of the ship. There were varying degrees of chemicals used in the wipes; the day to day cabin wipes were more aimed to refresh a man after a long day. Heavy duty cleaning wipes with a heavier emphasis on cleaning chemicals were sent to sections of the ship where the crew were required to get their hands heavily soiled, such as the engineering and medical sections. As efficiently clean as they might get the human body, Duo decided they were a poor second to the steaming hot shower his body craved. When he had looked at his reflection in the mirror placed inside the locker where he stored his gear, he had had a bad case of the horrors. He looked like death warmed over and he hated to think what Howard must think on receiving his transmissions. //Damn, I look like shit warmed over and trod in.// He flicked a glance at the clock on the bulkhead and shrugged. He was already what he considered to be late for lunch with the Captain, but he had been informed he would be escorted to the Officers Mess. His escort had not as yet arrived, so he could not be considered tardy if there was a problem delaying the Ensign. Given the situation as it stood, he could well imagine the Captain might have a few matters to attend to that would put a delay on their lunch. It gave him hope he might yet hear from Howard before he was required to leave the cabin. Slowly unbuttoning his shirt he realized he had another problem. He was bound to the Bounty for at least three months and his clothing was severely limited. He would need to learn the laundering arrangements as he had only two sets of spare clothing with him. //Domestic problems in space can be such a bitch. One on, one in the wash and one spare. The bare necessities. Okay for jetting around the colonies where I could always buy something new if I needed it, but here … // Perhaps he might be able to impose on the Captain to issue him a uniform to assist in his limited wardrobe choice? Space was at a premium on board the ship, but four sets of clothes was by far better than three and a uniform might help him to blend in better with the crew. He was not a particularly rabid follower of fashion, so long as it looked reasonable and felt good against his skin and he was comfortable wearing it, he had never particularly bothered about his clothes. One thing that required he might need at least one additional change of clothes was the necessity that one did not wear crumpled clothes to lunch with the Captain. Stripping off his shirt and leaving it floating in the air beside him, he ran a wipe over his chest, surprised it felt as good as it did. A little cool against his skin, but the cabin was warm enough and it left behind a sensation he found refreshing. For about five seconds his skin felt damp, but then the air dried the slick stripe. With a pleased grunt he applied the wipe to his face and almost moaned with the pleasure. Maybe he would not miss being able to shower as much as he had assumed. After the acceleration burns and indignities heaped upon him in the Medical Centre earlier in the day, he was feeling particularly dirty. Much of it was psychological, he knew that, but the fact remained he felt grungy and wanted to be clean. The wipes would accomplish that and leave him feeling considerably better than he had expected to feel. The greatest problem he would be encountering when it came to personal cleanliness would his hair. No doubt even in the shower when he was logged in for his one shower a week, washing his mane would involve some interesting gymnastics. He might need to be inventive and there was sure to be a limitation to the amount of water that could be used, but he would manage. Necessity, after all, was the mother of invention. Pressing his face into a clean wipe he let the soiled one float within arms reach, the material being far too light to be affected by the negligible pull of the gravity in his quarters. He had noted the gravity had been becoming progressively lighter during the last thirty minutes and he presumed the Captain was saving as much energy as he could by taking the force down to absolute minimum. Given the events currently taking place in the Earth Sphere it was possible the Bounty might need to alter course, should they received modified orders from Headquarters. He was only too aware how thinly Preventer ships were spread in the outer areas of the ESUN. If it should be decided Preventers was to take part in the security arrangements for the dealings with the so called Station Alliance, then their choice of ships to send to the meeting was limited. The Bounty was heading out system and therefore might be one of the few ships in a position to reach an appointed location in time to run security measures. To him it was too soon for anyone to make such a call, however a smart Captain would reserve as much fuel as possible to allow for any alterations in course, though as far as Duo could see it was far too soon for anyone to be able to make that decision. //The Chief Medical Officer might not be too happy with him, but there is still a noticeable gravity. Captain Tracey does not strike me as an indecisive man and I think he would take care of his crew. He would probably have consulted with the Demon Medic to see just how light he might set the gravity.// He would not be the only new individual onboard the ship for this tour of duty. Without looking at the service records of the crew he knew there would have been replacement crewmembers. Some of them were sure to be first timers serving on a long-haul patrol. Their physical bodies would have to settle to the prescribed drugs before the MO would permit full zero-gravity to be used in the bulk of the ship. Unlike him those crew would probably have had preliminary medical testing done for tolerance levels with the chemicals used in the production of the drugs. //It’s a complicated business getting a human body to thrive in space. Our bodies were designed for the pull of gravity and putting us in zero-g is a very unnatural environment.// Glancing once more at the clock Duo decided to throw caution to the wind and stripped himself down, breathing a sigh of relief to be free of the clothes he had been wearing. He felt dirty, grungy and though he knew his clothing was clean he needed a wash and a change of clothes to feel comfortable and feel alert enough to deal with a curious Captain. Four wash towels floated around him by the time he had wiped himself down and he was almost purring by the time he washed his last toe. Buck naked he stretched, reaching his fingers out to buffer himself before he bounced off the ceiling and pushed off gently, taking himself back to the floor. Rummaging in his duffelbag he produced a set of clothes and took his time putting them on, concerning himself with clothing his lower half first. Should the errant Ensign arrive while he was dressing, at least he would have his privates covered. He was feeling more alert for the refreshing wash and ready to face a few more hours without sleep. //Guess they might know what they are talking about when it comes to these things.// Checking himself in the mirror he decided his braid was neat enough to serve. Pulling apart the braid and re-plaiting it would take time and he doubted he had enough. The Ensign was sure to arrive any minute now. Pulling on a fresh shirt he tucked it into his trousers as his eyes wandered back to the communications consol. Howard should long ago have received his messages and he could only wonder how the old man had reacted to the news Merquise was alive. He would probably have required a few minutes to get his thoughts together before replying. Duo was uncertain exactly how Howard stood when it came to Merquise. The old man had seemed shocked when he had watched the message from Milliardo Peacecraft, the leader of the White Fang, as he declared war on the Earth. Everyone on the Peacemillion had been shocked, but Howard in particular had looked wounded. //I wonder just how friendly he was with Zechs? Friendly enough to let Zechs use Peacemillion as a base for Tallgeese and later the Wing Zero. I wonder what he will do? If he is in anywhere near a position where he might do something to influence the outcome on Mars? Knowing Howard ‘off the space lanes’ could mean anything.// Buttoning his shirt he decided he did not need a tie, such things were for use with uniforms and he had no uniform to be worn on the ship… at least not yet. He had a tie, but he was darned if he was going to dig it out of his duffle; he was sure he had packed it, but he was not expecting to find himself on a deep space ship when he had packed. He had packed for leave, to get to know his son and what cause did he have for a Preventer uniform? If he wanted to fit in on the Bounty and blend with the crew there was no help for it, he was going to need to acquire a uniform. A ship’s jumpsuit at the very least, if not something more akin to the Officers’ fatigues. If the need arose for a bit of discreet exploration he could tuck his braid down the back of a uniform shirt, or coveralls and he could probably pass unnoticed amid the crew. The secret of passing unseen was to look as though you belonged and he was very good at blending in, despite the rope of hair that had become his signature trademark. There were ways to disguise even his hair and most people never really looked at you anyway; not unless there was something out of the ordinary that transformed that initial uncaring glance into a demand for attention. If he wanted to be noticed, the braid came in damn handy. If he wanted to go unseen, then he tucked it away and acted casual if others about him were acting casual. The biggest secret to passing by unremarked was to reflect the mood of the people in your immediate vicinity. Do that and people tended to ignore you. He had learned the secret of invisibility a long time ago and it had gotten him out of some very sticky situations in the past. He was very aware of his current situation. Though he had not as yet scanned the personnel records for the Bounty, he was pretty sure what he would find. The crew would predominately be Alliance and Oz, with a sprinkling of White Fang members. With a mix like that so few years after a major confrontation there would be tensions and sometimes those tensions would become volatile and boil over. Likely someone would get hurt and the Officers would be on them quicker than a starving flea would be on the first dog to walk past. The agitators would find themselves facing a disciplinary tribunal in short order, as discipline must be maintained on board a ship. Such altercations would be rare amid the regular crewmembers who served the Bounty, but with new faces in the mix there would be the odd bout of contention. There would be people who had yet to learn to leave their past behind them and get on with those who had previously been considered the enemy. Who might consider him an enemy amid those factions? If there were any Oz Specials on board he might be in serious trouble. They would have the training to be considered dangerous. Alliance too would look twice at a Gundam pilot, given he had been as free blowing Alliance bases to hell as he had been attacking the Oz forces. Regular Oz was just plain nasty, the Alliance’s canon fodder before Khushrenada had splintered the group and formed the Specials. He would be sure to find these factions on board the Bounty and know they would be attentive to every action he made. He would really need to mark any of the ex-service men or women who had Special Forces training. White Fang might not be so rabid, though he had had no trouble blowing them away when it was required. He had not left a particularly amicable impression on the White Fang members who had approached him on the colonies. No, come to think of it, there was probably not a single individual on the ship who would have no reason not to pick a fight with him if the situation permitted. //Not good.// A cold shiver travelled slowly down his spine and he moved his shoulders uneasily, trying in vain to shift it. He was not sure what it was that made him so wary. He had shared locker rooms and showers with men who, only four years ago, had been his enemies. This should be no different. These men were Preventers, they had been picked and trained because their psyche profiles suggested they could get past the war and get on with the job. But his ‘something is not right’ itch was active and cold hard experience had taught him to listen to it or die. The Captain did not set his hackles up, nor had any of the officers he had met thus far, but that did not matter. There was something, or someone, on this ship which worried some subconscious part of him. The same part that had seen him survive the war when he had expected to die. He had listened to it then and lived to tell the tale, he was not about to ignore it because this was supposed to be a ship of people who worked for the same organization and they were, therefore, trustworthy. He was not that naïve. //I don’t want to die.// The thought took him by surprise and he leaned against the dinky miniature wash stand, his hands fisted around one of the moisture towels, three of them floating around him and his shirt undone. His cheek was pressed to the blessedly cold mirror affixed to the wall and he did not want to look at himself. Not yet. Not until he figured out where that thought had come from. What was the matter with him? What had set him off on such a morbid and dangerous train of thought? He had gotten over his ‘everybody wants to kill me’ paranoia within a year of the war ending. He was a Preventer agent, one of the good guys, not a shade of grey some people wanted to kill and others wanted to laud as a saviour. Why now? Why, within a day of arriving on the Bounty, did his paranoia of ‘everyone is out to get me’ rear its ugly head again? //Not so good. I will have to watch myself just as much as I watch everyone else.// He did not need to succumb to his personal paranoia and the solitude of space could bring out the worst in a person. The worst thoughts, the worst dreams, the worst fears. He would have to be careful to maintain a program of interaction and activity, make friends with the crew, play games with them; share his entertainment with them. //Find the ones who want me dead faster that way.// Blue eyes widened and darkened to violet and he cursed softly. Now that was just plain spooky. He was going to get himself into trouble thinking that way, after all, he had no real cause to think anyone was out to get him. So what if almost everyone on the ship, at some time in the past, had been an enemy? They were all on the same side now. They were all Preventers, all the good guys. But he had killed a lot of people as Shinnigami, pilot of Deathscythe. He had faced up to that truth a long time ago and he had had his sessions with psychiatrists. He knew what he had done, he knew it was war and he knew he had been a terrorist. But it was not he who was the problem. He had killed and there were people with long memories who did not look on the Gundam Pilots as saviours. //Damn, not good. So not good.// If he allowed himself to backslide and entertain such thoughts the path could only lead to destruction, his own destruction, and someone would be sure to die. What he needed was to entertain himself with something constructive. Given he would have no specific duties tied to the running of the ship his best option would be to begin to chase down the information contained in the Romefeller files. Finding out as much as he could about the organization and what they were up to, could keep him occupied for a good many hours and to learn it all it could take years. What he could do was begin his hunt for information with the files on the people he knew. One had to start somewhere, after all, and it was as good a place to start as any. It was just a pain in the proverbial butt he could not do it now. He doubted he would gain much of an opportunity to concentrate on the data stored on those discs for the remainder of the day. He could only hope the ship would settle into a routine quickly and he could quickly work out a schedule to keep his days full, entertaining and busy enough not to entertain his paranoia. His head snapped around at a chime and he grinned at the communications consol, snagging the floating towelets and stuffing them unceremoniously down the disposal chute, which took the place of a drain in a normal sink. Slapping the wash stand close he bounced across the gap to the com station, almost overshot the console and had to dig his fingers into the edge of the unit to save himself from slamming his gut into the unit and rebounding. With a muttered curse he hit the receive button and peered at the screen expectantly. //Howard. Good.// He grinned with real pleasure at the prospect of seeing the old man again, even if it was only a recorded message and set up the relay to decode the transmission. He was careful to set a security seal on the transmission to avoid anyone from tapping into the message and pulled himself into his seat to wait for the call to decode. His content was momentary, as no sooner had he settled than the door chime sounded, alerting him to the arrival of a visitor. //Well damn, suddenly everyone wants me.// He abandoned the console, opening the door without activating the voice lock to determine who was calling. He was not going to permit himself to become a slave to his paranoia and he was pretty sure it would be his escort. He had refrained from setting the voice coded lock, preferring to leave it deactivated for the moment. He was willing to be paranoid enough to need to answer the door manually and not have someone enter his cabin while his back was turned. He pressed his thumb to the pad beside the door and found himself staring at a young, fresh faced Ensign with a wide grin that reflected an open and honest personality. Eagerness shone out of this stranger and an innocence Duo had found rare in anyone over the age of six years of age. L2 was where children grew up quickly. “Ensign Peter Kerr, Sir. The Captain extends his apologies for the delay but if you are ready, he is now free to attend lunch.” That was another thing which would take him time to become accustomed to. The penchant on board ship for people to call him Sir would drive him to distraction. What was he to do? He could not leave the young man standing outside the door, but he needed to hear Howard’s message. If he left the Ensign outside it would raise eyebrows at the least and the man reminded him of an overeager puppy ready to please. He had always been a sucker for puppy dog eyes and given the opportunity he had the feeling Ensign Peter Kerr could produce a set of wide, hurt eyes that would have him close to snivelling. He had the feeling he would need to watch the crew for more than those who would be out to kill him. “Just a minute. Come in and close the door.” He returned to the console, very much aware of the eyes following him and the fact his new dog had ears. Telling himself in no uncertain terms to stop that, he checked on the progress of the decoding and seeing it done he motioned the Ensign over toward his bunk. He would have to trust there would be nothing of a sensitive nature in the message Howard had sent. The old man would have been careful, uncertain if Duo would be in a situation where he could read the message in private. The old man was pretty canny and he would most likely have to do some serious analysing before he could understand the full implications of whatever the message contained. He really needed to take this call before he saw Captain Tracey and turned the volume down and leaned closer to the screen. His fingers danced over the keyboard and the darkened screen became a field of static, clearing to reveal that wrinkled old face Duo had wanted to see. The bright blue eyes that so belied the age of the old man sparkled as he winked and then vanished behind dark sunglasses. Some things never changed and the loud Hawaiian shirt was bright red with massive yellow flowers, just as bright and garish as usual. He supposed he might faint from shock if he should ever chance to see Howard in anything other than such casual attire. It had come as an enormous shock to see Howard dressed in an impeccably tailored suit for the receptions they had attended after the war. Of course Howard had been quick to escape such formalities when the opportunity presented itself. He could not deny it was good to see the old man again. He had not realized how much he had missed Howard until he was faced with that pointy goatee and those darker than dark glasses and heinously loud shirt. He had to wonder if Howard still sported the board shorts while in space or if he had opted for trousers. For all of his years Howard still looked spry and alert and Duo cautioned himself once again. It did not do to underestimate Howard. His eccentricities hid a razor sharp mind and he had a genius for mechanical design and engineering that few in the Earth Sphere could contest. The screen was frozen on Howard’s face, a small smirk marking his good mood, but not disguising the heavier lines age brought. He thought Howard looked tired and he wondered what the old man had been up to. //Probably up all night working on the ship, fine turning her to perfection and forgetting about such mundane things as sleep.// From the wide grin he figured Howard must be as pleased to see him as he was to see the old man. Just seeing him brought to mind the freedom of the Sweepers and reminded him of the chains that bound him. He was an agent for Preventer, one of their best, but he was also wearing the chains shackled to him by the government who feared the skills of a professional terrorist, even as they made use of those skills. His days as a Sweeper were the best days in his memories. “It’s good to see you again, old man,” he whispered. “I’m only just beginning to realise how good, I think. Okay, what do you have to say? My time is limited, so I had best cut to the chase. Let’s see if you can’t give me something to give to the Captain.” He was only too aware of the man standing behind him. His every sense screamed at him of the man’s presence and just what they were screaming came as something of a surprise. Yes, he could not deny Kerr was a good looking young man, tallish, though not too tall, slender and being a Preventer he would be firmly muscled in all the right places. //Damn, where did that come from? The last thing I need is a stirring libido. I’ve felt no interest in anyone, male or female for months now. It has to be that bloody Chief Medic messing around with my mind. All that talk about sex…// He shivered. //Business, Maxwell, get on with business.// “Nice to see you again, Maxwell. Enjoy your dinner with the Captain of the Bounty and be certain to remember your manners. Thank you for the information and I’ll ask around amongst my contacts for information on this Kristian Khushrenada. It was much appreciated and I will see what I can do. Get some sleep. You look like you need it worse than I do. Give me a few hours to do some sniffing around and I’ll send you whatever I can come up with. It may take a bit of time given the wandering habits of my friends since the war ended. I’m expecting you to look a little more human when next I see your face on my screens. I will endeavour to come up with a date and time, maybe even exact coordinates for this meeting the Sweepers have been volunteered for. You may well learn this information before I do, given your line of work, but I will try. It’s been a busy morning on Peacemission and I have an even busier day ahead tidying up someone else’s mess. Be advised there is a debris field drifting over the shipping lanes on the approach vector to Mars for Earth-bound shipping. We are currently engaged in mapping the extent of the field and from the information we have available to us, it is projected it may take up to four weeks to clean up. That is a guestimate and our data is not complete. The encroaching gravity field of Mars will not help matters. Give my compliments to your Captain and request he extend a warning to outgoing shipping. We will be laying warning beacons in the coming hours. Get some rest and leave it with me. I’ll send you a message as soon as I learn something.” The screen froze and Duo straightened slowly, considering the message. He would need a little time to gather all of the implications, but what stood out was a surprise and one the Captain would not be too pleased to hear about. “A debris field?” He murmured. “What the hell?” There had to be a code in there somewhere and he needed to puzzle it out. If it was a code, and it had to be given his paranoia, what would telling the Captain of the Bounty about it do? The opening ‘Thank you for the information’ could be a reference to his second missive, the warning about Merquise being on Mars, though it could just as easily refer to the matter with the so called Station Alliance. ‘I’ll see what I can do’ could refer to more than one matter. “Mr. Maxwell? The Captain is waiting, Sir.” The voice snapped him out of his speculation and he spun, flashing a quick grin at the Ensign. “Ah, sorry. Yes, the Captain is waiting. After you.” The Ensign blushed and motioned toward Duo, remaining where he was beside the bunk and sleeping bag arrangement. “Excuse me Sir, but don’t you think you need to finish getting dressed?” “Eh?” Glancing down at himself it was Duo’s turn to blush. His shirt hung open, the back tucked into his trousers and the front unbuttoned. He had to be blushing, mortified with the gaff. It was not done to so casually present oneself at the Captain’s table. Sighing he plastered a grin on his face and spun back to the console, locking down the unit before he straightened and casually buttoned his shirt, casting a quick look over himself to ensure he was decent. He certainly did not want to appear before the Captain with his fly open. He was careful to secure the console and the door, initiating his own security measures after following the Ensign out. Unobtrusively he slipped a damp hair over the door seal and promised himself he would see about more secure arrangements. It was not much of a security measure, but for now it was all he had the time for, especially as he had a witness. He would make certain no one but he could access the lock when he returned and he was confident that for today at least, no one would interfere with his possessions. The crew had too much to do getting the Bounty secured and on her way to worry about him. For now. t.b.c.
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