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Drones flitted along the narrow corridors of the drone barge, the small red and green lights atop their head turrets blinking rapidly as they carried out their assigned tasks.
They moved with purpose, tending carefully to the masses of terrified and grieving sentients packed into the corridors and cargo holds of the normally uncrewed freighter. They represented a myriad of species; Coruscant, after all, had been among the most populace and diverse planets in the Galaxy.
Had been.
One of the drones whisked over to a group of beings crowded around a small UHD screen, watching a satellite view of Coruscant being broadcast over the news networks. It was one of the few such feeds still available after the savage space battle over the planet, but it showed more than enough; whole sections of the planet were burning, clouds of black smoke rising high and wide into the atmosphere, but not enough to hide the devastation. Great rents had been torn in the cityscape, with whole districts sliding into the planet's broken crust...
The watchers barely noticed the drone as it chirped for attention, nodding gratefully but distractedly as they took warm drinks from the tray it carried.
On the command bridge, the intelligence controlling the droid let out the electronic equivalent of a deep, sad sigh.
DOC-01/24Z's facilities were not extensive, but to those who now traveled aboard her, she extended every courtesy she was capable of.
Her passengers needed it now, more than ever.
Their homes lay in ruins, and in all likelihood, many of their friends and families were dead. The ship had saved as many as she could; hundreds had crammed themselves into the drone's cargo bays, taxing her feeble life support system. DOC-01/24Z did not have the facilities to support such a number for any great length of time, and she knew it; she would have to install a new autochef after they left, as her current one was nearly worn out from serving so many people. Likewise, they had no place to sleep besides the hard durasteel of the cargo bay floors, and the single refresher simply would not do.
They would have to be let off wherever they stopped next.
"Sentry 1 to Green Bolide, we're just about to make another hyperspace jump; we should reach a station where you can offload your passengers soon. How are you holding up over there?"
DOC-01/24Z quickly replied to the transmission, using her practiced voice and identity.
"This is Captain Docina; good to hear, Sentry 1. It's a little crowded over here, and my ship wasn't built for comfort. Plus, it'll be nice to see a station."
Sentry 1 transmitted the next set of hyperspace coordinates to its dependents, and Une dutifully fed it into her navicomputer. It would be nice to see a station; though she was merely a computer, she found the social interactions and activities of the organics on board fascinating. Also, the central computers of such stations always seemed to have the most interesting stories...
Besides that, she needed parts.
After another hyperspace jump, Une's photoreceptors fell on the looming XQ5 Platform space station. Orbiting around an old mining planet, the station was festooned with docking tubes and coupled starships, all offloading their passengers to seek transit aboard other craft, carrying them even further away from the Empire.
Not hugely far away from Coruscant, it served as a transfer point for one of the myriad evacuation fleets which had left Coruscant. Their scant escort of Alliance military vessels left them at this point; officially they were to head to an Alliance redoubt, but after today, their future was entirely uncertain.
Une docked gently with one of the waiting terminals, and her passengers began to leave; like their protectors, their own fate now lay in the hands of the Force. The drone ship wished them well, but here was little more she could do for them, and that bothered her; she liked organics, and seeing them so distressed made her... sad.
I think I understand what the Jedi mean when they talk of the Dark Side of the Force. She thought to herself, remembering the looming Sith warships and swarming fighters which had hounded her escape.
Eventually, the last of the refugees left Une's cargo hold, and the ship was quiet again. Drones rushed to straighten up the interior, but one, trundling quietly along, rolled out through the docking tube and entered the station.
Une was in search of parts, gossip, and maybe a little nonspecific fun. In better spirits, she guided her boxy remote unit through the corridors of the space station, trying to stay out from underfoot of the large crowd of station crew, refugees and other beings.
There was much to do.
They moved with purpose, tending carefully to the masses of terrified and grieving sentients packed into the corridors and cargo holds of the normally uncrewed freighter. They represented a myriad of species; Coruscant, after all, had been among the most populace and diverse planets in the Galaxy.
Had been.
One of the drones whisked over to a group of beings crowded around a small UHD screen, watching a satellite view of Coruscant being broadcast over the news networks. It was one of the few such feeds still available after the savage space battle over the planet, but it showed more than enough; whole sections of the planet were burning, clouds of black smoke rising high and wide into the atmosphere, but not enough to hide the devastation. Great rents had been torn in the cityscape, with whole districts sliding into the planet's broken crust...
The watchers barely noticed the drone as it chirped for attention, nodding gratefully but distractedly as they took warm drinks from the tray it carried.
On the command bridge, the intelligence controlling the droid let out the electronic equivalent of a deep, sad sigh.
DOC-01/24Z's facilities were not extensive, but to those who now traveled aboard her, she extended every courtesy she was capable of.
Her passengers needed it now, more than ever.
Their homes lay in ruins, and in all likelihood, many of their friends and families were dead. The ship had saved as many as she could; hundreds had crammed themselves into the drone's cargo bays, taxing her feeble life support system. DOC-01/24Z did not have the facilities to support such a number for any great length of time, and she knew it; she would have to install a new autochef after they left, as her current one was nearly worn out from serving so many people. Likewise, they had no place to sleep besides the hard durasteel of the cargo bay floors, and the single refresher simply would not do.
They would have to be let off wherever they stopped next.
"Sentry 1 to Green Bolide, we're just about to make another hyperspace jump; we should reach a station where you can offload your passengers soon. How are you holding up over there?"
DOC-01/24Z quickly replied to the transmission, using her practiced voice and identity.
"This is Captain Docina; good to hear, Sentry 1. It's a little crowded over here, and my ship wasn't built for comfort. Plus, it'll be nice to see a station."
Sentry 1 transmitted the next set of hyperspace coordinates to its dependents, and Une dutifully fed it into her navicomputer. It would be nice to see a station; though she was merely a computer, she found the social interactions and activities of the organics on board fascinating. Also, the central computers of such stations always seemed to have the most interesting stories...
Besides that, she needed parts.
After another hyperspace jump, Une's photoreceptors fell on the looming XQ5 Platform space station. Orbiting around an old mining planet, the station was festooned with docking tubes and coupled starships, all offloading their passengers to seek transit aboard other craft, carrying them even further away from the Empire.
Not hugely far away from Coruscant, it served as a transfer point for one of the myriad evacuation fleets which had left Coruscant. Their scant escort of Alliance military vessels left them at this point; officially they were to head to an Alliance redoubt, but after today, their future was entirely uncertain.
Une docked gently with one of the waiting terminals, and her passengers began to leave; like their protectors, their own fate now lay in the hands of the Force. The drone ship wished them well, but here was little more she could do for them, and that bothered her; she liked organics, and seeing them so distressed made her... sad.
I think I understand what the Jedi mean when they talk of the Dark Side of the Force. She thought to herself, remembering the looming Sith warships and swarming fighters which had hounded her escape.
Eventually, the last of the refugees left Une's cargo hold, and the ship was quiet again. Drones rushed to straighten up the interior, but one, trundling quietly along, rolled out through the docking tube and entered the station.
Une was in search of parts, gossip, and maybe a little nonspecific fun. In better spirits, she guided her boxy remote unit through the corridors of the space station, trying to stay out from underfoot of the large crowd of station crew, refugees and other beings.
There was much to do.
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