Sitting in my underwear in the cabin, on a meditation mat, I spun grains of sand around me, creating bizarre shapes from them. Work is work, but training shouldn't be neglected. Opposite me, right on the nightstand, with its front facing me, stood my mother's mask. Strange, but even without seeing her, it sometimes seems to me how her expression changes. And so now, looking at me, it seems to me how my mother's invisible face expresses approval mixed with slight thoughtfulness.
Forcesabers lay on the bed, a tablet on the nightstand. In the slightly open closet, two suits are visible: a Mandalorian hardsuit and my everyday one, and on the work table lies a wrist-mounted retractable vibroblade in a semi-disassembled state. The dim light did not distract, and the steady hum of the reactor, like music, helped to concentrate and plunge into meditation.
Attempts to master Mechu-deru were not exactly unsuccessful, but they were not impressive. I lacked a foundation; everything had to be remembered and worked on anew. And everything would be fine if not for the lack of time.
When my patience ran out, I switched to meditation in an attempt to look into the future. And if in Mechu-deru I had at least some progress, here it was a solid wall. What can I do, I'm a crap seer... And yet I feel very well, almost see, what will happen in a few seconds, but, f*ck it, try to look just a little further, and it's darkness.
Coming out of meditation, I looked at the little man assembled from sand. Yes, I don't remember my father, but his lessons that reached me are quite another matter. I followed them before, I adhere to them now. If only they still worked!
Angrily scattering the figure across the floor, I leaned my elbow on my knee and propped up my head.
I felt an encouraging touch on my cheek.
"I'm not angry Mom, I'm just frustrated. I'm doing everything right, why isn't it working?!" I looked at the mask. "No, I know you have these problems too, but Father didn't! And besides, I saw the future, saw what could happen. I saw the coming of the Rakata, saw death. I managed to change all that. What's wrong now?" and answering my own question: "Listen, maybe I should try to look for a more powerful Force source and dive into it? Well, why not, what if it helps?"
"Why..."
"Well, what do you mean 'why'? I really want to know where this road will lead me!"
It seemed to me as if Mom smiled and sat next to me.
"Last time, it helped me. Rather, us. And what will happen now?"
"What must be," came the whispered answer.
"Could you be a bit more specific?"
Instead of an answer, I heard a heavy sigh, accompanied by a gust of wind.
"Everyone looks into the future... Everyone wants to know what will be... But no one will see you."
"Are you hinting that I'll turn out to be an unaccounted factor?"
"For everyone."
"Hm... It seems that out of the two of us I'm the living one, but you see better."
In response, I heard my mother's ringing laughter. Further conversation was interrupted by the appearance of an intruder. Feeling Talia, I looked at the door in advance, and a few seconds later there was a knock.
"It's open," rising, I gathered the sand into a bag right before the eyes of the girl who looked in. "What is it, Talia?"
"Hm..." I was sized up with a look. Yes, it's not every day you see your own boss in his underwear on a mat, with sand levitating around the room. On the other hand, in her look, it was written in big letters how much I was admired. I look into her eyes as if into a mirror, observing my reflection in them.
"Talia?"
"Ah? Ah, yes," my assistant came to her senses. "It's, here!" I was shyly handed a tablet. "I've sketched out the approximate layout of the future company, as you asked." Taking the tablet, I glanced at the screen. "Here's 'StroyCom,' 'Tatooine Industrial Plants,' and also the arms company that you haven't thought of a name for yet."
"Thanks, Talia," I nodded, looking through the documentation. Everything was done haphazardly and roughly, to show how this matter would look later. Later she would finalize it, hire a small staff of lawyers for each company, and those guys would work each on their own headache.
Separately, I caught an eye on paragraph 3.0, titled: "here the director should be chosen" or a bit further: "like recruitment rules for the upper echelon, which don't exist." Well, yeah, I asked to leave that part myself, as I'll be recruiting and appointing the directorate personally, and then they'll be on their own.
"Anything else?" I addressed the girl who was staring at me like a sweet tooth at a treat. Her face cleared up instantly, her gaze returned to normal, and her emotions stopped radiating filth.
"Hm..." she lowered her gaze.
"Anything besides this."
"Yes. Regarding RAVEN," shaking herself, the girl sincerely tried to drive away non-work thoughts, but they returned now and then. I saw this struggle right on her face. Well, what of it? This is my ship and generally—my personal cabin.
"What regarding 'RAVEN'?"
"Some minor complications have arisen with it that will have to be resolved directly in the Judicial Department."
"That's all I needed... and what's the problem?"
"No, no, everything's fine!" she hurried to say, waving her hands. "It's just that we can open a PMC on Tatooine, and it will, de jure, be considered foreign, and without official permission from the Republic we won't be able not just to conduct activity, but even fly into their territory."
"In short, the problem is the license?" I anticipated the girl, already estimating how much I'd have to shell out.
"Not exactly. They just won't issue it to us remotely."
"In what sense?!"
"I took care of that."
"?!" my face had never been so eloquent and in need of explanation.
"Ahem... It's about some points," folding her palms in front of her, Talia immediately began to explain: "Since you let me in on some subtleties of your plans, I've rewritten the previous application, adding a number of points to it. In particular, they concern heavy droids, space ships, and some... equipment prohibited in the Republic that doesn't pass the Ruusan Reformation. Basilisks, by the way, are also included there, by classification: heavy walking combat machines with a tonnage of up to fifty tons. That such machines shouldn't fly—is not stated anywhere. And in general, the Republic has very few claims against walking machines, so it will be possible to think of and push something more interesting in the future, referring to paragraph T3-PP..." the girl stopped and looked at my face.
"..."
"I've overloaded you, right?"
"Talia, please, keep it short."
"The Ruusan Reformation doesn't apply to us," the girl blurted out in one breath, while my face slowly elongated in surprise. "Many bypass it as best they can. Some build combat ships under the guise of freighters, some remove hyperdrives, some sanction an increase in self-defense powers, as the Trade Federation does, some come up with something else; there are actually many ways. But we have what others don't—our own planet that isn't part of the Republic. And this can and should be used, as the Republic's laws are nothing here."
"I don't quite understand your happiness," I shook my head and, taking my everyday uniform from the closet, pulled it on. Enough of flashing my polka-dot underwear in front of a lady. "Yes, the Ruusan Reformation, like other Republic laws, doesn't affect us, but what's the use if we can't move freely through the Republic's worlds? How do you want to bypass that?"
"Very simply!" her eyes sparkled enthusiastically. "According to the regulation from 3200 years before the Ruusan Reformation, PMCs have the right to possess absolutely any ships, provided they sign a pact with the Republic on readiness to enter a major global conflict on the side of that very Republic. They passed this law in view of the threat from the Sith, counting on swaying PMCs to their side in this way. Private military companies are given A WHOLE LOT of freedom and privileges there, all for the sake of them fighting for the Republic. At the same time, in the absence of war, they just shouldn't break the law. And since we aren't part of the Republic, I can do soooo much there and twist everything sooooo much that we'll be... Wow!!!" the Twi'lek talked enthusiastically, with an unhealthy gleam in her eyes.
"Talia, you're a maniac."
"I'm a lawyer! Focused on the corporate sector. And besides, I went to read history because of you."
"In what sense, 'because of me'?"
"Well, I'm interested to know what time you're from."
"I can tell you myself..." I answered quietly, throwing the sleeveless shirt over my bare torso. "Just ask."
"In short, there it is. But to pull this off, you'll personally have to pass through the bureaucratic machine and sign some... documents."
"Ugh..."
"Yes," she nodded sympathetically. "I, actually, took this on right now because we're going to the Judicial Department anyway. I'll have the document package ready soon, at least the one for signing."
"In what sense, 'for signing'?"
"The rest can be backdated," she shrugged. "My mother's former supervisor gave me some good lessons on how to legally bypass laws."
"F*ck's sake," I shook my head and, pulling my swords to me, hung them on my belt. "And who did I hire?"
"Sweetheart?" she tilted her head.
"Right. And were there any people with the surname 'Kran' or 'Aero' in your family?"
"No idea."
"Pity. Want a snack? I'm going to the kitchen."
"No, I still have the preliminary package to finish," the Twi'lek sighed heavily, looking up at me and pouting her lips. At that moment it was as if I was jolted, and I saw Hadiya... but, shaking myself, I drove away the delusion.
"Chief?"
"Nothing. Don't overwork yourself, Sun."
"Are you worriiiiiiied about me?"
"I worry about all my people. I need you healthy and whole, otherwise—who's going to work for me?" I flicked her nose and walked past, not forgetting to close the door behind me with the Force. The girl turned her nose up and looked at my back with dissatisfaction, but inside she was having a lot of fun. And... not just having fun. The heavy sigh that reached me only confirmed it. Right, should I sign up as a monk?
In the kitchen, I crossed paths with Dis. The Mandalorian was sprawled on the sofa and slowly munching on chips and beer while watching some science-popular program about emitters and weapons.
"Dis."
"Shade," he saluted me with a beer can.
Opening the refrigerator with the Force, I took everything I needed for more experiments.
"Hm... Shade, don't you feel sorry for wasting products? Maybe I should eat them instead?"
"I won't let you. I won't rest until I replicate that same recipe," I answered in kind, taking out the dishes.
"What do you need it for?"
"I want vork. The very one from my time, not this surrogate."
"You're really hung up on that drink."
"Yes, I am. And also on the bars. Why are there no meat bars in your time?!"
"Because bars shouldn't be made of meat! Especially sweet ones. That's an insult to meat!"
"Tch. You just don't understand anything. You'll try it, and you'll understand!"
The Mandalorian shrugged and fell silent, while I got to work. My experiments were interrupted by the crew members who came in for a snack and suggested a couple of rounds of pazaak. Dis got distracted too, immediately warning the players to prepare for shame, as I don't lose in this game.
During this game, we reached the Corporate Sector, or more precisely—the planet Bonadan. The capital, if you could call it that, of the Corporate Sector.
The planet itself was similar to the Nox I knew well. A dirty atmosphere, an abundance of factories, and in some places, huge scrap heaps. It wasn't just nature; here the topsoil had been destroyed due to factory work and mineral mining. The only thing that saved the locals was weather control stations that cleaned the atmosphere.
On the other hand, in contrast to this, stood a truly magnificent city, looking at which I only have one question: "What kind of paint do you have to use on the houses so they stay white with an atmosphere like that?!" No, seriously, tall white spires made in a refined technological style. Wide streets, quite green groves...
A bit later it dawned on me that the city was covered by a weak barrier, and an air filtration system worked in the city itself, making you feel as if you were in nature inside the city. Yeah, and that's on a planet where there isn't a single forest.
Actually, because of the locals' peculiarity—to build anything with comfort, and where others would be hesitant to settle, we flew here.
"What an interesting planet," Talia commented on the view opening from the levitating landing pad. A beautiful city and a swarthy-rusty sky. Mmm, contrast.
"Tell me about it. And here's our transport," I nodded at the descending car.
Unlike other places we'd been, the local checkpoint looked... strange. It was perfectly guarded; they'd ask who you are, where from, and the purpose of the visit, but all remotely. Then they'd issue permission and... that was it. There were no contraband goods here in principle; you could walk the streets with a grenade launcher or spice, and no one would say a word. Another matter was that just anyone wouldn't get either. The Republic's laws here were not just ignored; they were used as toilet paper. No one else has twisted them like the Corporates.
"Dis, do you know how it is with slavery here?"
"It's not. It's practically non-existent here."
"How so?"
"The Corporate Sector considers slavery unprofitable, at most—personal slaves to show off to each other. Well, or for some specific needs."
"May I?" Talia asked.
"Well?"
"I want to say that the working class here is little different from slaves. Brutal contracts can very easily drive you into a debt trap."
"You forgot to say that those same workers have a many times higher standard of living than those same slaves."
"Well," Talia spread her hands, "for the Republic everything is legal; moreover—the locals consider such a regime profitable when your workers are seriously trying to earn, bringing you even more funds. So to speak, they have a stimulus. And some even manage to break through."
"Right. I won't even comment," I shook my head.
Reaching the place, we found ourselves as if inside an entire separate world. A pleasant environment, white marble-like walls, good lighting with expensive lamps, non-standard guest furniture.
"Hello," a secretary droid approached us. "Do you have an appointment?"
"Yes. I am Shade Aero."
"Oh! Yes, you are expected. Please follow me," turning around, the droid led us through the corridors of the office building. The guards at the post watched us pass but did not react. Several other representatives of alien life remained sitting in the hall.
Riding the elevator to the third floor, the droid led us to one of the doors.
"This way, please."
Inside a spacious office, our company was met by a well-groomed representative of the Duros people. A wide and empty work desk made of real wood, with a single tablet on it. A rich carved cabinet made of ebony, a huge mirror covering half the wall, high-quality guest chairs, likely made of real leather. The interior, though austere with a minimum of things, was veeeery luxurious, especially for a planet that was crap for vegetation.
Dis, as security should, stood by the door, near a niche where combat droids might appear. Talia politely let me go ahead. With her upbringing and professional manners, she simply has no right to even walk in front of her superior without approval. As they say: "Who the f*ck are you to block the boss?" So the girl constantly held to my left shoulder.
And so now, going first, I sat opposite the Duros, and only after that did my favorite lawyer allow herself to sit next to me.
Having introduced ourselves to each other with the Duros, we began the dialogue:
"So, how can I be of service?"
"I need food."
"What exactly and in what quantities?" the Duros asked businesslike, already having opened his datapad.
"No, you don't understand. I don't need ready-made provisions, but seed material for planting. Specifically, I need a genetically modified crop that is capable of surviving in the harsh conditions of the planet. In particular, in a desert climate."
Of course, Mandalore is not Tatooine, but it's only a couple of steps away from the sandy planet.
"Hm... That's more interesting. I'm listening to you carefully."
"Perhaps you've heard, but active work is currently underway on Tatooine. Consequently, food must be provided. The task is as follows: to offer me an option in which it will be possible to grow good products in such harsh conditions, with minimal costs."
"Hm... A somewhat unusual request," the Duros nodded, flipping through the tablet. "Usually we are asked for some special, so to speak, exclusive varieties... Но that doesn't matter. I can immediately offer you several options. What amount are you counting on?"
"You offer me first, and we'll agree from there," sitting in the chair, I drummed my fingers on the right armrest.
"Oh! I like your approach!" the alien rejoiced and turned his tablet toward me. "Look, here are two good options. Tell me, have you heard of a plant called a cactus?"
"Yes."
"There, in the first case we could conduct a small modification of this remarkable plant and select several varieties for you. Then, you can set up an entire plantation right on the surface with minimal costs. The procedure for modifying one specimen will cost you from three to ten million. The purchase of already ready-made seed material is included in the modification, as the quantity of the variety processed for sowing is agreed upon in advance."
"And the second option?"
"Mushrooms, or moss. We actively practice this methodology here on the planet, on underground plantations. Unpretentious, easy to process, grow almost anywhere, useful. These two options are the cheapest and fastest to implement. I can offer others, more expensive..."
"I don't need exoticism," I shook my head. "Not yet."
"I understand. So, which option suits you?"
"Both options suit me."
"Oh! How wonderful."
"Is it possible to include equipment for growing, caring for, and harvesting the crop in the order cost?"
"That is possible. Но as for the equipment for organizing underground plantations, we won't be able to help you with that. That's for our colleagues."
"No need, we'll do it ourselves," I smirked.
"What is the planting area? Approximately."
"Orientally—ten million hectares."
"Um..."
"In total."
"Yes, yes, I understand. That will cost you... One minute, please."
The Duros quickly calculated something on the tablet, glancing at Zero a couple of times, as the droid sitting on my shoulder looked at least suspicious. No, really, he sits and bores with his sensor and doesn't look away. At first I was uncomfortable myself under such close attention, but I got used to it. A strange habit for a droid... although, he is a scout.
"Ahem... The price will be about thirty million for the product itself, and another five for the equipment to go with it," and a look at me, like: "Can you afford that, respected sir?".
"I was counting on fifty. And I want to buy from you exactly for that amount. Although... I'd like it faster and, naturally, without extra questions. Is that possible?" I clearly heard the ring of an old cash register from a past life somewhere over my ear.
"Of course, of course, everything will be in the best way!" the Duros immediately assured me, his already pale face literally brightening. "We also take the delivery upon ourselves; the guarantee is ensured. The advance payment is twenty percent."
"I'll pay the full amount immediately."
The Duros's eyes really crawled up his forehead here.
"I'm an open character and I like to conduct mutually beneficial business," I applied a bit of Force pressure. Not a suggestion; you can't get through to those types like that, but frightening them a bit... "But remember that if anything happens, these guys," a nod to Dis, "can get anyone, from anywhere. That's not a threat, just a proposal, in case you have problems that require a forceful solution to the conflict. So to speak, a small advertisement for one of our service spheres, just in case."
"I perfectly understand you, Mr. Aero, and am sincerely grateful for such a proposal," the even paler Duros bowed. "Don't worry and don't doubt; I will personally control that you are satisfied with our firm."
"I hope so. This is my assistant Talia; you'll draft the contract with her."
"Certainly."
I stepped out of the way on that, leaving my assistant to conduct the business. I didn't interfere in the conversation, only watched the professionals at work. Talia, clever girl, drafted such a contract that the Duros would pay with his own skin for any default. And in the Corporate Sector, a contract is valued more than any sacred tract. This isn't the Republic, where you can sue all you want—it's of little use. Here your own people will strangle you for not observing a comma in the agreement, so you don't have to worry about the money.
The Duros himself squeezed the maximum out of the contract, in the sense that he grabbed twice as much time as they might need, just in case. Further, he left several backup escape routes in case they had problems. Well, you never know what kind of scum shows up, so they could always back out. It wouldn't relieve them of their obligations, but it would allow them to extend the deadlines, if anything.
In the third hour of sitting, when I caught myself thinking that instead of observing I was steadily falling into meditation, I decided to vary the time by studying local firms for finding and hiring personnel.
Well, after we left this firm, our company went to the next office, which was engaged in construction. Everything was even simpler with them. The Duros had busied himself and provided the respected clients with the address of his allies.
Essentially, on arrival at the second office, I left another ten million there, taking mostly individual residential blocks from which several small towns could be created. I can't afford a dome-city right now, but what there is for the near future will be more than enough. At the very least, this will allow for organizing several more settlements on Tatooine for newcomers. After all, I still have to invite people, if only there was somewhere to put them. And also—it would be desirable to bring Tatooine to self-sufficiency too, so part of the seed crops will indeed stay with us.
"I thought it would be more expensive," I heard Dis's voice behind me.
"Why?"
"Because none of ours would have thought of turning to the Corporates."
"Maybe someone did think of it, but the shop was closed. The Corporates might be cynics, but money is of no use to a corpse, no matter how much there is."
"True enough."
Glancing at Talia, who was standing quietly and waiting for new orders, I said:
"Exhale already; the workday is over for today."
"Ah... Alright. And where now?" the girl asked businesslike, hiding her tablet in a small shoulder bag.
"Now? Well... didn't I promise to take you somewhere?"
"Ooooh..." Talia immediately took a step toward me, shooting her eyes and instantly changing in her emotions. If before she was collected and focused on a work mood, now that mood was blown away as if by the wind, leaving playfulness and interest.
"I take it I'm going to the ship?" Dis clarified.
"Nope. You're coming with us."
"Ah?" Talia was taken aback, and Dis tilted his head as if asking: "What?"
"You're my bodyguard; play the role to the end."
"Okay, Boss."
Approaching the aerocar, I slowed down to let Dis overtake us and open the doors. Everything as it should be. Although, a hesitation arose at the entrance; the girl waited for me to sit first.
"You aren't at work anymore, so, ladies—first."
"Ah... Alright," losing her composure, she climbed inside. Dis sat next to the driver—a droid.
"Are there any good restaurants in this city?"
"Yes, sir. My master very much likes 'Ran'Dar'Fragh's'."
"Take us there."
"As you wish, Sir."
"Chief..."
"You aren't at work," I reminded for the third time, glancing at Talia.
"Yes, sorry. Shade, do I understand correctly that according to your traditions, a girl is let through first?"
"Yes."
"And what else is done for a girl?"
"Flowers are given."
"And why?"
"To appreciate her beauty. Although..." mentally calculating when I last gave flowers, and realizing that, in general, I almost never did... if I ever did at all. "Alright, let's not talk about that."
"As you wish."
"In general, you'd better not ask me about traditions, simply because you won't understand some, and you'll understand others, but incorrectly. If I do something incomprehensible to you somewhere, just ask, then I'll explain."
"Alright."
"Better tell me, do you remember life before Riasha's appearance?"
"You already know everything, why ask?" the girl was surprised.
"I only know what happened after. Before that—no data could be found, and I didn't ask your mother. Well, so?"
"Unfortunately yes. Но I'd better forget it," she looked out the window and shivered. "There are quite harsh rules on Ryloth. If not for Mom, I would have become one of the slaves." My gut stirred and like a bell pushed me to the next question:
"I'm just curious, were you free before that?"
"Formally—yes. But to speak honestly," she looked at me, "I was being prepared as a concubine. Almost immediately, from early childhood. Everyone there was like that. All of us were being prepared for something. I remember we had a whole lesson; it was called—obedience. I remember how they drove the boys; they had to have good physical training; such types cost more. We were being prepared for something else. There were dances, and... erotic lessons. A lot, in short. They tried not to beat the girls so as not to spoil the goods; there were other methods of punishment for us. I remember as if it were yesterday how they gave me a piece of arot. It's a kind of... bread. It's nasty, slimy; it's used as animal feed. You can eat it, but only with veeeeeery great hunger, and even then, you'll think twice if it's worth it."
"So... you were a slave?"
"Essentially—yes."
"Ha... Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha," laughing, I applied my hand to my face. A slave... Motherf*cker... So close. I missed it myself... "Ha-ha-ha-ha!" Right, the Force has a very specific sense of humor. I appreciated that joke. A full hundred and ten percent!
But hearing sincere offense, I stopped laughing. Until now the girl hadn't tried to deceive me. On the contrary, she's really trying to break through, to manifest herself, to show her best side, both as a professional and as a... woman. And Riasha vouched for her... oh.
"Don't take it personally, Talia. I'm not laughing at you at all, or even at slavery."
"I'm not offended at all."
"Don't you try to deceive me," removing my hand from my face, I looked at the girl with a completely different look.
"Sorry... and... what's funny?" this cutie puffed with a mixture of interest and surprise, yet still harboring offense within her. What a beauty... what acting, standing ovation. Not a muscle on her face twitched for the whole time that would express her dissatisfaction. And I don't even pay attention to that anymore, listening to the interlocutor's emotions. Although...
"Oh, just realized something. Don't pay attention; better answer a couple of questions."
"M?"
"You've already decided on a goal in life, right?"
"Aha."
"And what is it?"
"I want to live well."
"Richly?"
"Comfortably," she corrected me. "And interestingly."
"How so?"
"Mom's name is well-known. I also want to achieve such success, and you've given me an excellent chance for that. Besides, it's interesting with you. I've practiced in many places, but everywhere it wasn't as interesting as here. Either the management were idiots and didn't know what they wanted themselves, or they'd get into such a mess that I'd clutch my head, or they'd demand something... well, like that. And here, it's really interesting. Why?" looking into the girl's eyes and seeing a familiar spark of life in them, I smirked. Alright... we'll assume Riasha saved the girl before she became a slave. Although, that's how it is, right?
"Just curious. Well, well, please continue your story. What happened after?"
"Then Mom came," she shrugged. "Essentially, she just bought me out."
"I see."
"Chief... sorry, Aero, but why did you laugh after all?"
"The problem is that I can't stand slaves. In the sense, at all. The only way I'll help a slave is to cut off their head, sending them to a better world. And here you are telling me this."
"Yes... that's funny," the girl paled, glancing at my sword. "But... but are slaves to blame for their fate?"
"Talia... I won't argue with you, or go into philosophy. Just answer me—what would you choose, to free those you were with in childhood, or to rise at their expense?"
"To rise, of course! Simply because they would have done exactly the same."
"There's the answer to your question why I don't like slaves," I sighed.
"Ah... but Aero, that doesn't apply to everyone! For example, I love my mother very much; I value what she did for me and I'll never harm her. Never!" I was told passionately to my face. "And I value you. You are very good, both as a manager and as a person. You achieve a lot, aren't afraid to get your hands dirty, are ready to stand up... you're already standing up! And for an entire people, at that. Whom you didn't know until lately. I couldn't find much information about you, but I'm more than sure you are a great personality; it's felt. And specifically those guys I knew personally, and knew them quite differently," Talia talked very quickly, stumbling and getting confused. "I understand that you think I'm just like them, but it's not so. Mom gave me what they don't have—a spine. And a sense of gratitude."
She stopped, her fingers moving quickly and distractedly, picking words, but I didn't hurry her, watching the reaction. The girl was afraid of me, but despite that she was diligently trying to formulate thoughts to regain that trust. I felt even not the fear of death in my back, but... of being fired, maybe? Amusing.
"Mom taught me to be grateful, especially to those who reached out to you. For friends, especially in our field, aren't that many, but they are very important. And you have to reach out to another yourself in time. Such a gesture can help oh so much in its time."
"I see."
Plunging into thought, I fell silent. Yes... Riasha had indeed worked well on her daughter, I give her credit. But what else to expect from a Togruta? They are very social beings, one for all, all for their own. Besides, they are quite peace-loving. Talia had adopted those traits; the Force suggests it, it's clearly on this girl's side. Alright... my gut has never failed me yet; we'll believe it this time too. But how everything creaks inside... how it creaks...
"But still, why do you dislike slaves so much?"
"My country was ruined. You freed them, and they thanked you with a knife to the kidneys."
"Ah..." the Twi'lek was taken aback. "Sorry..." she slumped sincerely, and even sat a bit further away.
The conversation didn't flow after that, and all positive feelings toward me seemed to evaporate. Talia sat like a mouse next to a cat, afraid to make even a sound, perfectly understanding that with such a dislike for slaves I could also easily get rid of her. For she had already managed to realize that I almost don't joke, and if I do joke, I say so. But I had already made a decision.
"No need to react like that. Yes, I don't like slaves. Very much. But... for you, so be it, I'll make an exception," reaching out, I took her by the hand. "Someone has to work for me, after all."
Smiling faintly, the girl nodded but remained silent, placing her other hand on top of mine.
"Boss, may I tell a story?" Dis interjected, dispelling the new pause.
"Go ahead."
"We once had a case... in short, our group was hired to train a small militarized unit. And there were moments when the fighters loved to f*ck around to the full program; something had to be done. And further, the story itself: Training company, a month since the start of our work. Time: 3:00 AM. The command rings out: 'Company, wake up! Alert!'
A minute later, the hundred men, finally awake, are already standing on the pad with all their gear, ready to repel a sudden attack. And although their equipment set was many times simpler than ours, it was nonetheless impressive. Each fighter represented a weighty warehouse on legs: weapon, ammunition, duffel bag, CBRN suit, body armor, and so on and so forth. And it was altogether painful to look at the radio operator, machine gunner, or grenade launcher operator. Laughter and tears. But not the point. Everyone knows there's going to be a forced march now, and of such a length that even riding a bus is boring... and here on foot and at about the same speed... Then Warren announces:
'Alright, greenies! I'm bringing two pieces of news to your attention, and both are good. The first news—your enemies, whoever they are, despise you so much that they bypass you, and therefore—today's alert is a drill. Rejoice. The second news: since we haven't been attacked yet, you and I have a chic opportunity to train on this beautiful moonlit night. Thirty kilometers one way and, if you behave well—the same back...
Oh, one more thing, fighters, rumors have reached me that some clever ones are taking the armor plates out of their vests to make their lives half a kilo easier. I hope you understand what will happen if you find yourselves without those plates in a real fight?'
This was, if anything," Dis got distracted, "they had simplified jumpsuits, without exoskeleton support or any auxiliary systems. So, when Warren heard an affirmative answer, he clarified loudly:
'Are there such scoundrels among you?!' The company answered—no. Then:
'I, of course, won't check and feel everyone; you're grown men, I'll take your word for it, but I'm just curious. Step out of line, those who took the plates out of the armor vest! The punishment won't be severe, I promise!' But no one stepped out. Then, Warren again to the whole company:
'Well, no is no. Company, dress! Attention! Dismissed! Fall in in one line!'
And as soon as the company lined up, I stepped in. Slowly, with relish, I took out a pistol, flipped the safety, and began moving it from side to side, aiming at the soldiers at chest level. Everyone was in a quiet panic; the fighters knew that we only take weapons in our hands in two cases: either to shoot or to clean... and then I spoke:
'Three, four, five, the hunter went out to shoot.' Bang! A shot boomed, and the sergeant fell as if cut down.
'And now we'll find out: if his plates are in place, he's alive, and if he lied, he's dead—thereby undermining the combat readiness of the company entrusted to us...' Warren announced loudly. Well, they slapped the guy's cheeks; he'd fainted from shock. He came to, stood up, and Warren repeated the question: 'Dress! Attention! I repeat my question: maybe someone did take out the plates after all?' About ten people stepped out of line immediately... Then I laughed:
'There are the orderlies who will take turns carrying our "wounded" sergeant on a stretcher. Double time, march!' So those unique individuals raced off. And the secret was that we knew who would definitely be in armor, and the blaster was on low power. The one who fell knew there would be a shot at him, and set it all up. But then no one slacked off; we got a new checkmark in our reputation, and the employer was satisfied and even extended the contract for a second company."
"Right, and I thought you had no sense of humor," I hummed.
"We do. But a specific one."
The car stopped here. The restaurant we flew to clearly enjoyed popularity among the local wealthy. There weren't that many people, but everyone looked like real aristocrats! It was sickening. But since we'd arrived...
Following inside, Talia and I took one of the tables, while Dis sat at the neighboring one. Running my eyes over the menu, I summoned the waiter.
"Something meaty, with a salad," I looked at the girl, "dessert, and a light alcoholic drink."
"Certainly. And are you Togruta or...?"
"It doesn't matter to me."
"As you wish."
Not five minutes passed before the waiter returned with two glasses, which he immediately filled. Sitting nearby, Talia had not uttered even a word, occasionally casting glances at me.
"Talia, calm down. What you said won't affect your position in any way, if only because you've already shown and proven your usefulness. That's just a fact. Yes, I dislike a certain class. Yes, in normal circumstances I would either shoot you or ignore you, but our circumstances are unusual, after all. If only because your mother vouched for you, and second, I still like you. I also don't forget your efforts. So relax and enjoy this evening," raising my glass, I held it out to the girl. "M?"
"Uh-huh," taking the glass, she took a sip. Then another, and another. When the bottle was half empty and a blush appeared on her cheeks, the girl spoke: "A... Aero, have you had a woman?"
"I have," I glanced at the ring.
"Long ago?"
"Well... you could say yes. A year has passed, if not more, since I came out of the coma."
"And did you love her?"
"Them, Talia. And yes, I loved them very much. But that's in the past. It wasn't easy to come to terms with, but now for me, essentially, it's a new life."
"Is it okay that I'm touching this topic?"
"It's okay."
"Don't get me wrong, it's just that during the time spent with you, I haven't seen a woman near you even once," glancing at Talia, I wondered if it was from nerves that she'd started talking so much, as she was talking very quickly. "Those I worked for before constantly got themselves a bed warmer. And you?"
"And I don't have time," laughing, I filled my glass with the Force. "You see for yourself how I'm rushing around."
"That's for sure. But would that have changed anything?"
"In what sense?"
"Honestly, I don't see you in a brothel. Not at all."
"Heh."
"No, you might go in there, but for other reasons."
"For example?"
"Looking for someone to kill. Well, or you'd be invited there," she shrugged her shoulders.
"Right."
"Chief, did you fight?"
"Not really. I participated little in major battles, more like that, in small things," I waved my hand vaguely. "Cut off a head there, twist a psycho here, scare these guys, stop assassins here... in short, created an image to later work as a court scarecrow."
"I seeeeeeeeee," Talia drawled, sizing me up with a meaningful look.
"Actually, I didn't fight as much as I caused a stir. Tried to change the future, save my world from an outside threat, and I even succeeded. Only the price..."
"Too high?"
"I don't know. I can't say whether how my fate turned out is good or bad. It just is, that's all. Would I have liked to live out my life there? Certainly. But the fact is that it didn't happen. I knew where I was going. Knew I wouldn't return home. Moreover, I couldn't even assume that events would turn out exactly this way, and that in twenty-five thousand years, I'd be sitting in a restaurant and drinking wine in the company of a pretty girl. By the way, I wonder when Palpy will be born?" getting distracted for a moment, I looked at the ceiling.
"Who-who?"
"Ah, doesn't matter. I'll figure it out later, once I've sorted out the business." And to myself I added that I should have woken up a bit later, when the movies started. At least I know Vader and Yoda there, hah. Although, Yoda is around now too, but what's the use?
"I see."
Then the food was brought to us.
"Chief..."
"Ye-e-es?"
"And do you really have nothing against me?"
"Talia," my face expressed: "are you kidding?"
"Sorry. It's just..."
"Leave it," I raised my hand slightly. "I perfectly understand your feelings. You know who I am, you know what I'm capable of, and then such details come to light. You're right to worry about your life; it's natural. But there's no need to fear, for no one will dare to even touch you with a finger," pausing, I considered the thought of adding weight to the words with a mind trick, but no. We'll try to convince her otherwise. "Hold out your hand."
Talia uncertainly held out her hand to me, palm down. Taking it, I placed my other hand on top and engaged the Force. Sending tiny impulses of the Unifying Force through her hand, I watched the reaction. Goosebumps ran right up the girl's arm; she actually shook herself and drifted a bit. Well, yeah, it's very pleasant when someone just runs the Force through you, relaxing and toning the muscles.
For a moment I fell out of the world, remembering Ramira. Our horned angel often spoiled friends with such techniques. Initially, this Force technique was intended to help the body recover after excessive loads; I remember perfectly how she honed it on me back in Qigong Kesh, when my beaten-up body returned from another training session. Eh... Rami... that kind look, timid shyness bordering on insane fanaticism. The one who would do everything to save a life, not take it.
Right before my eyes from memories I saw the image of that sweet shy girl I met in the first year.
Talia brought me back from the memories. The girl relaxed, started smiling, and finally began to enjoy the pastime, rather than shying away from my every move.
"Shade, are you alright?"
"Ah?"
It didn't immediately dawn on me that a tear had run down my cheek.
"Ah, yes, everything's fine. Just remembered something," releasing her hand, I wiped the wet trail. "I haven't used that technique in a long time. A close friend often applied it, and taught me. I'd like to call her a sister, but I'm afraid I'd just be unworthy."
"Please tell me more about your past," Talia asked, pressing her hand to herself and rubbing it with the other. "You weren't always as you are now?"
"That's true. It stretches back to the training days. Young, burning gaze, a thorn in the ass, my own view on absolutely everything and a rebellious attitude," the girl's modest smile became open, and a light sparkled in her eyes. "I questioned everything I heard, from my mother's instructions to the masters. I remember even entering into arguments about the Force and views on it. Often I'd get stuck; 'subtlety' and 'restraint' weren't about me. Always forward, head-on, regardless of anything. When I look back at myself, it makes me shiver. And yet someone managed to love this 'creation'! Twice, even!" I expressively held up two fingers. "And also—friends were found who would definitely stand up for me. And what didn't happen to us, what didn't we go through. Two twin Zabrak brothers, Zeng and Feng, were constantly getting into various adventures; they ended up growing up to be quite the adventurers themselves, but it seems to me there's my fault in the form of bad influence. Great guys, though sometimes too serious. I remember there was a moment when Lina, a Miraluka, our classmate and friend, played a kind trick on them. Being several rooms away, she used her natural sight to play with them via the Force. The guys spent a long time trying to talk to a ghost until it dawned on them what was happening. They didn't get offended, but they didn't appreciate the joke either. Grees was another matter. A Wookiee, a technomaniac with an awesome talent. He'd both appreciate a joke and play one himself. There was a moment when some people got to him, well the Wookiee, without thinking twice, made it look like he was going to pull their legs out. In the Temples you can't use the Force on other students, but for this guy, raw physical strength was enough, which, de jure, was kind of allowed. Ye-e-eah... we had fun for a long time after that, and I also added fuel to the fire, running around and escalating the situation. The masters just shook their heads. Perhaps those were if not the best, then some of the best years of my life. Because after... well, by graduation from the temple only six were left from my group."
"In what sense, 'left'?!" the girl was amazed, her eyes bulging. There she was listening, and suddenly dropped from heaven to earth.
"In the literal sense. Some left training, some didn't survive, and some went crazy. You understand... the Force background on Tython is much greater. We feel the Force better, and are much more strongly connected to it. As I understand it, current Force-sensitives don't suffer from the problems that were in my time. Simply because those same Jedi compared to my classmates are small punks imitating adults. For a huge concentration of the Force is not a gift, but rather a curse. If you can't control that talent, it will destroy you. And these guys, having crumbs, imagine themselves great Force-sensitives. Ptooie! A disgrace. On the other hand, had they been stronger, the Order would have collapsed long ago."
"Why?"
"In short: those who pursue one side of the Force are already dead. The light ones will become vegetables. The dark ones self-destruct. Not just in body, but in spirit. I've seen it happen; a gruesome sight."
"What about the Jedi?"
"The Jedi are supposedly light, but in reality they have such crap going on in the temple that to hell with them. The only real Jedi is Yoda."
"?" the girl tilted her head.
"The Grand Master of the Order and the head of the council. In short, the boss. Но he's a Jedi for another reason. I once insulted him to his face, then vanished from under his nose, and he didn't care. There he is—a real light one, a true professional of indifference!" Talia, covering her lips with her palm, laughed, and then, taking a glass, took a couple of sips. "Returning to the past—walking the path we walked was far from easy. And it didn't get easier later. Not even having graduated yet, I already acquired a magnificent tattoo," I demonstratively turned my arm. "I'm silent about how many times I almost died. But actually—it's nonsense."
"Nonsense?!"
"Yes. Because dying isn't scary; it's scary watching others die."
I paused, spinning the glass with the drink in my fingers.
"Shade, don't the... ears bother you?" Talia pointed her eyes around.
"Not at all. For no one is listening to us. Look around," the girl turned her head, running her gaze over the other patrons, and was convinced of my words.
"Strange."
"We can talk about whatever we want; no one will hear."
"How so?! Or no... your... Force?"
Winking, I took a sip.
"Remarkable."
"Well, and you, Talia? What was your youth like?"
"It's still continuing now," the girl shyly adjusted her lekku.
"I mean, after the orphanage. Let's leave the slavery topic; I didn't hear it, period. M?" I held out the glass.
"Thanks, Shade," Talia took the glass. "To you, and to your friends," she clinked her glass against mine.
When the food was brought, the conversation didn't die down. It was interesting to hear what lawyers are taught, and some stories from a young girl's student life deserve separate attention. They also tried to pry some interesting moments out of me, but I didn't mind.
At the end of the gathering, Talia was again exactly that sweet playful girl I had invited for a walk. And a small portion of alcohol only helped her to loosen up. I was getting sincere pleasure, savoring her emotions like a junkie who's finally gotten a dose.
And yet if I had applied a mind trick, everything would have been quite different. Yes, it simplifies life, but at the same time the target has sort of surrogate emotions. That's one of the reasons I never applied such a technique to my circle, after the point about morality. And a mind trick fades over time.
Having returned to the ship, I couldn't resist a small response. Talia again began to show a slight playfulness, presenting herself in her best light and pleasing my male eye, while I remained calm and relatively cold, hiding my emotions inside. But revenge came before parting for the cabins. Using the Force on her left lekku, I ran my hand along it, which made the Twi'lek actually tremble. And immediately, turning her around, I gave her a light push into her cabin, closing the door.
Having experience with Hadiya and knowing perfectly well what effect it has on Twi'leks, I could only laugh maliciously. That's what you get for mocking the boss!
***
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