Something Buried

"Captain; Mr Chance has just sent me a message from his tank."

Longström groaned loudly. "Ok. What does our resident psychic have to say..."

"Sir. He says there is something buried here, and we should stop immediately."

The captain sighed.

"Alright. All stop! Geez, I hate psychics. When he's ready, bring him up here. I want to know why he thinks that there is something 'buried' here, when we're sixty light-years outside the plain of the ecliptic, in extra-galactic space."

"Yes sir."

"Oh, and Jenkins? Remind Mr Chance that I prefer him to wear clothes, not absolutely nothing..."