#spacehobbits!au

Bilbo's first try at Fili and Kili’s behest with the diagnostics tool had been a failure, certainly. Without any warning on what he'd be experiencing, the hobbit had found himself quickly overwhelmed and in his haste to exit, set off several alarms that sent the dwarves scrambling, but the sensation had caught the hobbit wildly off guard and so perhaps he couldn't be blamed for his panic.

He just hadn’t expected such a merge to feel so…cold. Hollow. As though the technology used by the dwarrow had been built as a mockery of life, missing the pulse that provided that gentle extension of self even the hubs around the shire possessed. There was no balance in these technologies, no innate connections, and to force himself into these spaces felt no better than trespassing, rifling through the databanks of a would-be corpse.

At least Fili had covered for him that day, it had taken Bilbo quite some time to shake that lingering sensation off, and most of his evening had been spent silent and shivering as the hobbit worked up the courage to try again.

Besides, they'd been right, he thought. At the end of this journey he was to come face to face with an intelligence unlike any he'd seen so far. One born of this very same technology, and yet a more powerful being than any organic might dare to challenge alone.

A daunting thought, no doubt about that. Best to start small, or at least that was the sort of cheerful thinking from those two troublemakers that had led him into this nonsense to begin with.

And at least it was a little better this time. Or, if not quite better, certainly more manageable. Knowing what awaited him beforehand had left him in a better place to process his surroundings, allowing Bilbo to familiarize himself with the strange ebb and flow of energy that was present, rather than focusing only on what he felt was missing.

Perhaps there weren't any innate connections, nothing that felt as easy as breathing, but it still left a path for the hobbit to follow, weaving his own consciousness through the sprawling code. The connections he could forge on his own. As lifeless as the technology was, it offered no resistance, and Bilbo was quick to wrap himself in flowing tendrils of energy where he could, tracking them back to each source.

It didn't take very long before he found himself well integrated into the system, and if he wished it, he knew he'd be able to pluck the data trails as one might a string. An adjustment here would leave the dwarrow in darkness, while over there could switch off the gravity. Another still, could feed the excess power towards the thrusters, increasing speed, or perhaps overload them entirely if he was not careful.

Risky, of course, to make an attempt like this while they were no longer planetside, but other than Rivendell and the Trollshaws, he hadn't had much opportunity to try (and certainly none had been offered to him), and wasn't this important? From what little he'd gleaned about Smaug, on some level he could understand their apprehension, for all that it seemed based in assumptions and ignorance. Still, they'd allowed him along, called him burglar, kept his signature and contract and yet refused to provide him any of the tools he might need to spare himself slaughter.

At least the boys trusted him; the hobbit truly meant no one harm.

Bilbo wasn't sure how long he wandered, left to his own devices in a virtual space that the dwarrow could never reach. It left him perhaps more vulnerable than he'd have liked, although a part of him was still processing some amount of the nonstop back and forth chatter of the brothers beside him, if not quite the words themselves.

If he focused a bit harder, it was likely he could've understood, but they were safe enough for the moment, and it felt unnecessary. After all, though he knew Thorin would hardly take kindly to anyone poking around in the databases and local programming of his ship, their leader was far too preoccupied with their ongoing attempt to avoid any potential elvish pursuers to take any notice of the three of them.

Bilbo admittedly found the dwarf's wary vigilance a bit ridiculous for several reasons. Not the least of which being though he knew little of starships, surely the vessels used by such graceful creatures would be able to easily outpace this rusted monstrosity. If they hadn't been caught yet, it was likely no one was looking. Besides, the metalloids in the surrounding asteroid field scrambled their instruments more often than not, (and after the mishap with getting lost in the Shire of all places, he wasn't entirely certain he trusted their leader to lead them through as safely as he might prefer). And still, for the past two weeks Thorin had remained tense as a wire, temper flaring with less and less provocation.

For the most part the hobbit had been spared his snarling, though he'd certainly been on the receiving end of a harsh glare or three., the king making no effort to hide his distaste at the hobbit's presence on his ship. The general lack of trust from the dwarrow as a whole hadn't afforded him any way to make himself useful, so most of his time was spent feeling out of place, scuttling out of the way of the others and their important duties.

At least this way he could be helpful in the future, even if he still wasn't quite clear on exactly what any of them expected him to do. Perhaps he should have asked before now, though the dwarf best equipped to give him a proper answer seemed the least likely to tolerate his questioning, and Gandalf had been left behind in Rivendell, for all the good that did them. Bilbo could only hope the wizard caught up with them soon, surely after the mess with the trolls they wouldn't be abandoned for long?

A flicker of energy brought his attention more readily to the space around him, the hobbit's wandering thoughts distracting him from the whole point of this exercise. The focus brought with it an awareness of a few more voices nearby, though that was hardly unusual in a ship this size. More important was the way he felt one of the sections of data twirled about his mind diminish very suddenly. Like a light going out. Ignoring the uncomfortable twists that existing in this space still brought him, he reached out, seeking whichever tendril had slipped from his grasp. The attempt brought him nothing, not even the knowledge of what exactly it was that he'd lost, although considering the systems Bilbo was still tied into, he doubted it had been anything of much importance.

Confused, if not yet concerned, Bilbo tried yet again, but the lack of power left no space behind for him to inhabit, and it wasn't long before he felt the gentle jolt of yet another stream of data disappearing from his grasp, snuffed out like a candle flame, and then followed another, and another, forcing the hobbit to retreat back into himself. The voices were louder now, repeating...something. The urgency catching his attention beyond the flickering in front of him.

"--bo. Bilbo. Bilbo! Oy, Bilbo." A snap of thick, gloved fingers in front of his face left the hobbit blinking, a bit dazed and confused as the sound finally filtered in with a sharp pop, unmuffled by distance.

"Burglar!"

Oh dear. Bilbo knew that voice, and the anger in it was enough for the hobbit to snap back to himself with a jolt, feeling chilled, and not only from the unease left behind from his misadventure. If Thorin had already clued into what he'd been up to, the hobbit had an inkling it was likely he'd be dropped off at the next port they visited with nary a backward glance.

It wasn't the angry face of the king that greeted him first, however. Instead, it was one framed by the edge of a familiar hat creeping over an equally familiar pair of goggles.

"Bilbo! There ye are!" Bofur offered him a grin, though it was one a bit too tense around the edges to leave him feeling comfortable, though the tone remained light and friendly. "Nice of you t' finally come back to us. Shouldn't be wandering off like that, aye?"

Bilbo blinked, opened his mouth, closed it. Nerves assaulted him, though he did turn to look for his previous companions, and found that while both Fili and Kili still nearby, they were no longer touching him, and were far paler than they should be. They weren't alone, either. It seemed he'd drawn the attention of most everyone in the Company, and his unease increased tenfold as his gaze trailed back to the engineer seated in front of him, and ignoring, for the moment, the king looming just behind him. "How...How long was I gone, exactly?"

Bofur looked thoughtful a moment, sucking in a quick breath between his teeth before replying. "Not entirely sure." As he spoke, he held up a finger and moved it slowly across Bilbo's eye line, the hobbit instinctively following the motion with his gaze. "The lads have been a bit more mum on the subject than we'd like, though we've been trying to call you back for close to an hour now. Thorin had the idea to start shutting down nonessential systems, thought perhaps we could herd y' back out that way. Seems like it worked."

An hour? And even longer still, apparently. It hadn't felt nearly so long, he must've been more tangled in the system than he realized. Dangerous, that, and Bilbo shook his head, gaze dropping the moment Bofur's hand did, though that only led him to catch sight of his own trembling fingers which he was quick to clench into fists to better hide any leftover shivering.

For all he hadn't been able to bring himself to look up at Thorin just yet beyond his heavy boots, he couldn't help the wash of appreciation for the surly dwarf's quick thinking. Drawing in a breath, Bilbo finally risked a brief glance upwards, propriety demanding he at least meet Thorin's eyes long enough to voice his gratitude properly. "I--yes, I believe that it did. Thank you."

The expression he was greeted with was severe, and the dwarf's thunderous scowl only deepened further the moment Bilbo spoke. It wasn't a gaze he held longer than he had to, and the hobbit was quick to turn his gaze back toward Bofur, who had watched the exchange (if one could call it that) with a speculative look.

"Well, at least yer tracking and talking," Bofur continued, reaching up the scratch idly at his neck as he looked the hobbit over. "Not entirely sure how ye work just yet, but fer us that's a pretty good sign. Ye feelin' funny at all?'

A good question. The hobbit certainly didn't feel entirely alright and almost opened his mouth to confess it before he abruptly changed his mind. He'd caused enough trouble already, there was no need to add to it with so minor an issue. Especially when he knew it couldn't be helped. Once he'd settled, he'd be alright, and that was a thought he was fine to share, but the comment was cut off before it could start by a gruff voice to his left.

"Thought we'd lost our burglar."

That he visibly jumped probably wasn't very impressive to the lot of them, but he was hardly expecting Dwalin's heavy tones so close to his person. Trying to catch a glimpse of the source was probably not one of his better decisions of late, either, for his gaze snagged again on Thorin, the dwarf's thick fingers curled around a metal railing that creaked as though it could snap with the pressure as pale blue eyes remained fixed on the hobbit. They were narrowed in that suspicious way he’d grown so accustomed to seeing from the dwarf, but there are was something more to it. Anger, certainly, but also—

"He's been lost,' Thorin gritted out, cutting off Bilbo’s hopeful train of thought at the pass, "ever since he left home. He should not have come. He has no place amongst us."

With that, the king turned on his heel and stalked back to the bridge, Dwalin following close behind, as he always did.

Something both sharp and heavy settled in Bilbo's chest at the proclamation, even as he told himself he'd already been expecting something very like this. Whatever concern he’d thought he saw, the hobbit knew he was unliked or at the very least not trusted, and by Thorin most of all, as none of the other dwarves had quite thrown it in his face so blatantly. Sure, they'd been avoidant, if generally polite, and while he knew his own motives for being here at least in some small part, he found he could not begrudge them their suspicions, circumstances being what they were, and had figured he could prove himself in time. After the trolls, a few of them had finally reached out to him as a traveling companion if not quite a friend, and perhaps never wholeheartedly, but they were making an effort, and that was enough for him to want to stay and help.

But to be so brutally dismissed, to be deemed completely useless by the leader of their company, especially after what they'd already been through? Well.

That stung Bilbo far more than he cared to admit.

"Ach, don't mind him," Bofur murmured, lifting one of Bilbo's arms to examine the length of it. Other than the younglings, Bofur was the only one of the company to reach out and touch him so freely, and though it was probably more from an academic standpoint considering his profession, Bilbo found he didn't mind so much. "This bloody maze is keeping us all on our toes, should be out of it in a few hours. Wiggle yer fingers for me? There we are."

Bilbo sighed, taking a moment to glance toward the bridge where he could see Thorin arguing with Balin in hushed tones, the words floating back to him through the sudden, awkward quiet. "No. If they want to test the burglar that is their prerogative. I cannot stop them, but they'll do it ground-side if they do it at all. It’s too dangerous, Balin, I will not be swayed on this."

Dwalin, of course, stood just behind, his usual frown securely in place, and Bilbo swallowed once before speaking, tuning out the rest as he turned his full attention back to Bofur. "He's right. I don't belong here. I'll disembark at the next port and wait for Gandalf, he can see me home well enough, or at least find some safe travel by which I can return. Maybe through Rivendell. That would be safe enough, don't you think?"

"What?" Bofur's hand slipped down from where it had grasped Bilbo's forearm until their palms were clasped together, catching the hobbit's attention. "Ye can't turn back now," he pleaded, "you're part of the Company, you're one of us."

Bilbo's eyes were wide as he took in the engineer's shock, the way he held so tightly, he'd thought--well, he'd been pretty certain that any friendship between the two of them was more one-sided than not, based more on his oddness and the engineer's interest in robotics than anything else, but perhaps...perhaps...

He has no place amongst us.

Whatever warmth he felt was quickly snuffed out, because whether this friendship was true or not it didn't change anything, and the hobbit huffed sadly, his tone sharp and just this side of bitter. "I'm not though, am I? Thorin said I should never have come and he was right."

And didn't that just hurt. He'd given it his very best so far, even as ill prepared as he'd been to join this mad venture, he'd tried, but he felt so very isolated and so far from home. Understandable, he'd told himself that about the dwarves avoidant behavior countless times. It's understandable, but in the end there was only so much a gentlehobbit could take.

"I’m not a Took, I’m a Baggins. I don’t know what I was thinking. Should never have run out my door."

"You're homesick," Bofur tried again, "I understand."

Something sharp and vicious twisted within him at those kind words, hissing out of him even as he gripped the engineer's hand that much tighter. "No, you don't. You don't understand, none of you do. You're dwarves. You're used to--to this life, to living out among the stars, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere!"

The regret hit the moment the words were out of his mouth, watching helplessly as hurt flashed across Bofur's kind face. Perhaps Bilbo didn't belong here, but to lash out in that way was incredibly unkind, especially to one who was actively making the effort to let him know he was wanted, at least by one. True, by now it still felt like too little too late, but Bofur was the last dwarf on this ship to deserve his misplaced ire, and he knew it.

The way Bofur's hand slipped out of his felt like the final nail in the coffin of any potential friendship they could have had, and grief like a heavy stone settled in his chest. Still he scrambled for something, anything that would wipe away that expression, "Now, look I'm sorry--I didn't--"

"No, ye're right," Bofur cut him off, soft and sad, head turning to take in the view of the dispersed company making themselves busy all around the ship. "We don't belong anywhere."

Bilbo swallowed thickly, eyes trailing down to the floor. He truly hadn't meant to inflict such a wound, but a soft touch to his shoulder had him looking up, and if he couldn't see Bofur's eyes, the lines around them told him the gaze was kind. Far kinder than he deserved so soon.

"I wish ye all the luck in the world," he said, "I really do. And know that I'll still be seeing you off, aye?"

Bilbo nodded, chest clenching tight. Perhaps he hadn't destroyed what he'd gained with a few sharp words, after all, but still he would leave and miss these few friendships, however fleeting. Bofur, Fili and Kili, even young Ori who'd sometimes pester him for a tale or two. The sounds of heavy boots hitting metal grating snapped him out of his melancholy, followed by shouting in what sounded like Khudzul coming from the bridge. Familiar as he'd gotten, he couldn't quite pick up on what exactly it was that was being shouted, though it seemed he wasn't the only one. Bofur was quick to jump to his feet, eyes trained on the cluster of dwarves that had scrambled toward the bridge with clear intention to join them. "What's that?"

A sudden crash rocked the ship hard enough to send the two of them skidding across the grating, and several other dwarves besides.

Bilbo's head took a hard knock against some metal sheeting, leaving him, if not too terribly hurt, certainly in a bit of a daze, and he blinked a few times before attempting to steady himself.

"What's happening?" Kili, that was Kili, and Bilbo had just barely pushed himself up from the floor when they were struck again, and boiling steam erupted above his head from a burst seam, nearly catching the hobbit in its violent spray.

Barely managing to stay upright, he stumbled along to the bridge where Bofur was already trying to patch an eruption of sparks too close to the pilot's seat, currently occupied by Nori.

"Shields are down to sixty percent," the red-haired dwarf gritted out, and Bilbo only managed the presence of mind to grab onto something as he violently twisted the wheel, veering around a large chunk of rock as the ship violently rocked again.

"Forty percent!"

"We can't take another hit like that!" Dori, somewhere behind him.

"Get out of the chair," Thorin snarled, all but shoving the dwarf from his perch so that he could take his place, "Move move move move!"

The thief offered no resistance, only scrambling away to make room for the king. Makes sense, Bilbo thought a bit wildly, Thorin knows how to fly this ship better than anyone.

"What's happening?!" An echo of Kili's earlier cry sounded out above most of the shouting, and Bilbo was more than a little surprised to realize it had come from him, even more so when Thorin responded, spitting the answer through gritted teeth, hands clenched tight about the controls.