Didi stumbles the moment she steps foot outside the back exit of the cargo bay, feet slipping over the rubble beneath her feet.
"Well, blikey," she snarls at herself, bending in half to turn on her deflectors. They hum to life again, snapping peevishly a moment, as though she's woken them from a peaceful sleep. She rubs her banged knee with one hand, hating the sting and numbness that follows such a blow, hobbling forward into the trash.
The gunslinger's chip is a dilemma, though she's less concerned about it now than she had been at first. One step at a time, just like Dad taught her. And no blubbering over his being missing, not while she needs to focus on work. A heart. She's had an idea about that, though part of her doesn't want to consider how risky this undertaking might be. Still
