After the planet-shattering battle that rocked Copper 9 to its core came the end of the series... of events that led the downtrodden Serial Designation J, who hit yet another low point in her career. Within the now desolate Murder Drone lair echoed the sounds of machinery being worked on. Sparks rained down from atop the landing pod until the mechanical tools J used cycled back to her normal hands, which she then used to wipe her facial screen clean of digitalize sweat.

"Uuugh!" Whined J, the lines under her neon yellow eyes showing her exhaustion. "That's enough for tonight." Leaping off of the still damaged spaceship, the lone drone spread her bladed wings to come to an elegant and gentle landing upon the snow-covered ground. As her wings drew back into her chassis, she held her hands behind her back and began to pace. Her facial screen blacked out and began scrolling the system message: [⏺️RECORDING].

"J's Log, Entry 12: Ship repair continues to be slow. While my team is highly competent and capable, it consists of only a single member. Me. Once completed, however, I can finally..." Stopping in her tracks, her facial screen returned to displaying her eyes, which bore a scowl and a 💢 symbol appearing above her brow. "Leave. And... and—" First there was a pause in her monologue, followed by tense silence. Baring her teeth, J growled in frustration as she turned to the lifeless body of a Worker Drone that had been propped up. "And what're you staring at BOZO?!" Her hands cycled to huge, knife-like claws. "Your coffee break was over five minutes ago! Wasting company time is grounds for TERMINATIOOOON!"

J wasn't exactly doing well with her recent unemployment. You heard rumor that the third Disassembly Drone was in a bit of a... rough patch, which is why you came out all this way. After all, with Cyn's defeat there's no reason she can't get along with—

"YOU!" Whoops, you've been spotted. J assumed her trademark hand-on-hips stance and glared at you. "Why're you skulking around?"