It must not have seemed particularly strange to see a mid-sized droid wandering around the interior of the Parnelli Museum of Art. It might as well have been a normal occurrence that conical beams of light would be scanning the artifacts of the Wonders of Kashyyyk exhibit. Maybe it was the comfort the organics felt in the droid’s deference, as it stepped aside to make way for them; maybe it was the sheer mundanity of its presence beside the gonks and security droids that kept the place clean and safe. But somehow it seemed perfectly ordinary that S8R-D mingled among the tourists of Theed, a tourist in its own right, unnoticed and unbothered.
This particular exhibition seemed to be its favorite. While wandering around outside a nearby bar, where its primary operator had bade it wait, the probe droid had been drawn into the museum’s foyer by sculptures made of rare minerals. One thing led to another, and now S8R-D was logging all of the wood carvings and ceremonial instruments that Wookiedom had lent to this temporary display.
“Sample thirty-four!” It chirped to itself in Binary, a violet light shining on a warped bantha horn plated in gleaming metal and gemstones. With a blink, the droid’s light diverted toward an adjacent placard. “Palsaangi Clarion.”
As a science research droid, it would have been entirely content to catalog the museum’s entire collection. But suddenly, an assuming organic deposited a used cup on the large, flat surface of its head. They did not alert the droid, nor thank it. They simply turned away, freshly unburdened of the slight amount of liquid that remained inside the cup, before S8R-D could even turn around to analyze who they were. That was the most attention that had been drawn to it all afternoon and, so exposed, it simply bowed uncertainly.
Then it waddled with utmost care to the next display, resuming its scans while precariously holding a mostly empty cup on its head.
This particular exhibition seemed to be its favorite. While wandering around outside a nearby bar, where its primary operator had bade it wait, the probe droid had been drawn into the museum’s foyer by sculptures made of rare minerals. One thing led to another, and now S8R-D was logging all of the wood carvings and ceremonial instruments that Wookiedom had lent to this temporary display.
“Sample thirty-four!” It chirped to itself in Binary, a violet light shining on a warped bantha horn plated in gleaming metal and gemstones. With a blink, the droid’s light diverted toward an adjacent placard. “Palsaangi Clarion.”
As a science research droid, it would have been entirely content to catalog the museum’s entire collection. But suddenly, an assuming organic deposited a used cup on the large, flat surface of its head. They did not alert the droid, nor thank it. They simply turned away, freshly unburdened of the slight amount of liquid that remained inside the cup, before S8R-D could even turn around to analyze who they were. That was the most attention that had been drawn to it all afternoon and, so exposed, it simply bowed uncertainly.
Then it waddled with utmost care to the next display, resuming its scans while precariously holding a mostly empty cup on its head.
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