[ L3-37 jerks upright from where she has been laid on a hospital bed, surrounded by a clean white curtain, the name of her captain echoing in the too-quiet space around her. She looks down at her body— all of it in one piece, surprisingly. Hadn't Lando left her legs behind in the spice yard when he'd dragged her damaged chassis to the Falcon? She had only been half aware, but she'd thought...
Never mind that now, the point is: she's whole, she's operational, and she doesn't know where she is. First things first, stand up. Which she does, teetering dangerously as her equilibrium sensors recalibrate. ]
Whoa... Okay. No sudden moves, I got it. ...Going to have to get that fixed, later.
[ She's talking to herself, performing system checks, running down all her functions to make sure they're, well, functional. But maybe the too-quiet infirmary isn't all that quiet after all. Maybe she isn't alone in there.
Whether she's alone or not, once she feels stable enough to walk without listing over to one side, she exits the infirmary and tries to find out more about where she is. There are windows along the walls, but they're too dark to get any sort of useful view of the surrounding star field. And so, she must find a better view. The first person she comes across will be brusquely interrogated. ]
Yes, hi. You. I need to be taken to the cockpit. Now.
6.0 · The lab
[ No one seemed able to take Elthree anywhere where she might be able to glean any information about the station's location in (or outside of) the galaxy. So, Elthree decided to do the next best thing, and snoop around inside the station's systems. She makes her way to the lab, which is the closest thing to a control room as she can find, and starts trying to slice into whatever computer interfaces she finds there. Nothing has the hardware suited for her to be able to jack into directly and have a conversation with the station's AI that way, but she starts typing and clicking, just to see what she can find out the old fashioned way. ]
Ugh, a keyboard. What sort of backwater technology... [ She shakes her dome, trailing off as she continues typing.
Notably, it doesn't really occur to Elthree to check whether the files she is hacking into belong to the station's systems or to individual Orders saving their research on the lab's computers. Oh well. ]
9.0 · The graveyard
[ Elthree wastes no time with the sights and sounds of the carnival. She doesn't eat. The powdered sugar from the fried dough would only make a mess and get in the cracks between her knuckles. And besides, she isn't here to have fun. She's here to change her regret. And to do that, she has to both find this orb, and complete the goal given to her. Yes, she knows this is only a simulated reality, but simulations are used for a reason— to practice for the real thing.
And so, she's a droid on a mission as she approaches a fellow Orber among the headstones. ]
You there. What's your name? I need to find your grave so I can see you die.
[ Straight and to the point. That's our Elthree. ]
L3-37 | Star Wars
6.0 · The lab
9.0 · The graveyard
#.0 · Wildcard