What a day it's been. That's to be expected, sometimes, when one's master is a Sith, but even then, watching her go from barely responsive to a clinging, sobbing breakdown, to actual unresponsiveness, then speaking, when she hasn't spoken an unscripted word in the year she's known her and hasn't spoken at all in well over a month, and then going off to kill her master, possibly killing Lord Grauzatis as well, and adding most of his prisoners to the escape plan? Even for a Sith, that's not your average day, in any sense.

And now here they are, making their way out of the system on sublight drive. Daisy - she's Daisy, now, that was the promise, that when they escaped they would both get new names - hasn't been given any orders, has barely been spoken to, and might not be. It's up to her to figure out what to do next, despite the fact that she's just a servant droid, and anyone else on the ship would be more qualified. Deskyl - Lord Pradnakt, now - trusts her, would be upset if she surrendered the responsibility to anyone else.

They clearly need medical attention. All of them, really, even Pradnakt, at least enough to ensure that there's nothing medically wrong with her. That's the first thing Daisy takes care of, searching the ship's database for the best medical facility not run by the Empire that they can get to overnight and setting them on course for it. Then she checks on the passengers: the hooded woman is where Pradnakt left her, the man with the prosthetics has claimed one cabin, and the two remaining women are settling into another. She offers them food and painkillers from the ship's stores and leaves them to it, going back to check on the hooded woman. She's unresponsive, but the code to the hood's lock is in Daisy's databank without any warnings or special instructions, so she goes ahead and takes it off, dims the room and waits for a dose of painkiller to set in before removing the blindfold and earplugs underneath, and feeds her half a serving of mush made from the blandest of the emergency rations.

Then, with everything as well taken care of as it can be for now, she goes to check on her master.

What a day it's been. That's to be expected, sometimes, when one's master is a Sith, but even then, watching her go from barely responsive to a clinging, sobbing breakdown, then speaking, when she hasn't spoken an unscripted word in the year she's known her and hasn't spoken at all in well over a month, and then going off to kill her master, possibly killing Lord Grauzatis as well, and adding most of his prisoners to the escape plan? Even for a Sith, that's not your average day, in any sense.

And now here they are, making their way out of the system on sublight drive. Daisy - she's Daisy, now, that was the promise, that when they escaped they would both get new names - hasn't been given any orders, has barely been spoken to, and might not be. It's up to her to figure out what to do next, despite the fact that she's just a servant droid, and anyone else on the ship would be more qualified. Deskyl - Lord Pradnakt, now - trusts her, would be upset if she surrendered the responsibility to anyone else.

They clearly need medical attention. All of them, really, even Pradnakt, at least enough to ensure that there's nothing medically wrong with her. That's the first thing Daisy takes care of, searching the ship's database for the best medical facility not run by the Empire that they can get to overnight and setting them on course for it. Then she checks on the passengers: the hooded woman is where Pradnakt left her, the man with the prosthetics has claimed one cabin, and the two remaining women are settling into another. She offers them food and painkillers from the ship's stores and leaves them to it, going back to check on the hooded woman. She's unresponsive, but the code to the hood's lock is in Daisy's databank without any warnings or special instructions, so she goes ahead and takes it off, dims the room and waits for a dose of painkiller to set in before removing the blindfold and earplugs underneath, and feeds her half a serving of mush made from the blandest of the emergency rations.

Then, with everything as well taken care of as it can be for now, she goes to check on her master.