“I… probably should’ve thought of this,” Sarah muttered, as soon as they’d recovered and kept walking. Living in Irkalla had prepared them for this a little—except that all the vehicles transporting people around the ship worked, all the escalators functioned, all the machines were in perfect repair. So despite living like parasites in the ruin of greater technology in the real world, here they pretended like the ship was theirs. And I guess it is. Or they’re descended from the people who owned it. “But I don’t actually know how to find Ocellus. She’s kind of an important pony, and…” She trailed off, face reddening. “I guess we could… find a computer. Punch in her name, that kind of thing.”