There was a logic to the way the ship was organized, T1 was sure of it, but the reasoning was not anything that it could grasp at the moment. It was trying to understand it when Selene returned and warned him about the objects at the back, curiously, some of the one she had called out as dangerous did not give off any high readings for the energy signatures; building warships on Kuat meant dealing with fantastic amounts of energy but a droid’s sensors gave it a layer of safety that humans lacked, although there were always units where a sensor failure led to the whole processor getting fried when accidentally manipulating the wrong part of one of the lines feeding into a turbolaser battery. 

They were already in space when T1 took a break from looking and spoke.

“Why did you warn me about that one? I’ve taken what you’ve said seriously, but I can not see what is dangerous about the objects you have collected in that section. It glows but I can not discern anything else worrying about it. I’m also curious as to the reason for visiting Yavin, if you are willing to share.”

It wasn’t clear whether she heard the droid, or not, the way her eyes, black in the shadowy lighting of the interior of the Wayfarer, stared through the thing as she stood at the end of the storage and its shelving. At least until the wicked, neon bright, grin spread across her lips like a shadow fell upon a lost horizon. Its systems would flutter and fluctuate in that exact, very, moment as the barest murmur of the Force reached out and touched the droid.

No matter how many scans, no matter how many internal log reviews, no matter the depth of the diagnostic, the droid would never know exactly how she went from standing where she was, to literally leaning into him, as if he had an ear for the whisper she gave him in the tone of secret truths.

“The universe whispers to my ears in dark languages, T1, the kind of languages that [i]rarely[/i] survive,” in the moment the image of the coronation hall of the Summer Palace sparked to life like a fire in the back of her mind, the sight of cousins and uncles and aunts screaming and clawing at the doors that wouldn’t budge as Sela ir-Ramalla Vitaal, the seventh of her name, stopped being a victim of the galaxy and fate and greed, “I have spent my life following those whispers, and what that is, my inescapably strange droid passenger, is an echo. And in the appalling strangeness that is the blackness of this universe…even echoes can hurt you.”

After a few steps back, the grin was gone, it’s own echo of distant amusement still swirling in the ink pools that were her eyes in the back of the Wayfarer, 

“Why Yavin?,” she shrugged, “just following whispers, T1.”

T1 had stopped looking at the treasures and turned to Selene. It had learned humans appreciated directional communication. He said
“Whispers, a quiet form of communication. Is this an aspect of the force? That it speaks, and its speech has the power to harm, and its speech can persist in this world?  Forgive me if I am misinterpreting figurative language, most of my existence has been spent in the soundless vacuum, this may cause me to overlook subtleties.”

While it was looking at Selene, it was still checking the inventory of other devices, out of pure curiosity if Selene had picked up anything on this recent excursion.

“It becomes less defined, drifting off into the abstract…” She laughed, gently, as inner tension coiled up and snapped her right hand into her black, perfectly straight and silken hair, to push back with fingers so stiff they looked like they could snap combing through it in cathartic release, “everything is an aspect of the Force, and in the great juxtaposition of nothingness and matter, nothing is an aspect of the Force. Just know it’s like a place you simply should not be, T1, and the doorways will try to seal themselves shut at every opportunity.”
Sweetly, she smiled, “Simple, yes?"

T1 said

“Hard to say what is simple without understanding it. In binary we talk of simple as how much data it would take to convey it, with every trick in the book allowed. A million digits that are all zero is simple to describe, the first section of this sentence is an adequate substitute for writing the entire string. An exact description of a million truly random digits, following no pattern, that would evade any attempt to simplify it without losing some of the minutiae. I will attempt to keep my manipulators away from things that I do not understand in the future, I will make that pledge to you. Is there anything I can assist with?”

The chuckle was a ghost of a thing, barely there, “Learn some sarcasm, and,” she paused, really, really staring at the droid now, “get yourself in the best condition you can—you’re going planetside with me when we get to Yavin.”

The look on her face was cold, even if her eyes might have been apologetic, depending on the angle of the light and the play of the shadow to it in her eyes in that moment.

T1 began to run through the list of maintenance checks for planetary operation inside its mind and said 
“Understood. Sarcasm was removed all droid brains procured by Kuat Drive Yards after an incident where a report of a quality defect that led to a warship’s turbolaser unintentionally firing upon a civilian population center was prefaced with ‘Great News!’”