"She says she doesn't expect them to be in very bad shape, at least, ma'am. Relatively speaking, of course."

"Well.  That's good, at least.

"...What's the color coding for?"

    "She says that the blue areas are ones she's comfortable with you handling, red she'd prefer to handle herself, and grey neither of you should visit without backup - she intends to take Nine with her for that."

"...backup for...what reason, exactly?"

    "She isn't sure what effect what was done there will have on local Force conditions, ma'am; those areas are the most likely to have lingering Dark harmonics that could affect you in unknown ways." Plus Pradnakt might panic about them, obviously.

"...Yeah, that does make sense.  And the droid sector markers?"

    "Those are droids that she expects to need assistance in evacuating the ship, ma'am, mostly immobile models." There are only a few of them, fortunately.

"Ahh.  Yeah, R4 and I can handle that, most likely."

    "Yes ma'am. Are there any sections that you'd like Lord Pradnakt's or Nine's help with?"

"I think there's not likely anything I can't handle myself, especially with R4 helping out."

    "Yes ma'am. Nine, did you have anything to add?"

        "No."

    "In that case Lord Pradnakt will take this section," the previously red and grey areas turn yellow, along with the shared gym and a portion of the droids' area with no markers, turn yellow, "and you can take this section," the remainder of the ship turns green, "if you have no objections, ma'am."

"...I'd prefer that we both handle the grey area together, or perhaps neither of us go in there at all, if possible.  R4, Nine, would you two be confident, there?"

I'm confident I can.  Nine?

"Yes ma'am."

Pradnakt has tensed up a bit, and seems to be considering whether she wants to object.

    "She does want to see it, ma'am," she settles on.

"...Alright, but I'm coming with you when you do, if it's at all feasible.  You're - not facing all that alone."

This doesn't exactly seem reassuring, but she nods, after a moment.

"...Well.  Any other questions, concerns?"

    "No ma'am."

"...Alright."

"Let's do this, everyone."

Yup.

They still have some time before the rendezvous; Pradnakt spends it in communication with the droids there, ordering the med droids to report to the docking bay and shut down and the servant droids to make sure the prisoners are informed of what's going on and prepared to leave.

Diana has already prepared quarters for the now-ex-prisoners, and spends the rest of the time just...fretting nervously about them.

If she frets in Pradnakt's vicinity, she can get an update: The prisoners are a father and daughter, purchased a week and a half ago out of a lot of slaves sold off by a manufacturing corporation as part of their yearly maintenance; he's gotten too slow to keep up with the assembly lines, and she's noted as having a congenital cognitive impairment and won't work without him nearby. Both seem to be in good physical condition, though according to the med droids' records the daughter has refused about a third of the meals they've offered her.

"'Congenital cognitive impairment' my exhaust port.  I do just fine.  ...oh dear Force.  He would've..."

Diana's blue lightsaber leaps to her hand, and spins trenchantly between her gauntleted fingers.

"Well.  We're going to want to get this girl a datapad."

    "Yes ma'am. Lord Pradnakt says 'he would've what', ma'am."