The pilot sensed her state. Sher felt his anxiety resonate within her – and then a wall seemed to grow between them. Thick, elastic… but not impenetrable. She continued to perceive what Nick was experiencing, only now it was much easier to bear.
"Oh... Forgive me, Sher," the speeder straightened its course. "I completely lost myself... I could have hurt you. Are you alright?"
Sincere concern sounded in the ex-ISB operative's voice.
"What are you talking about, Nick," a gentle reproach sounded in the girl's quiet voice. "When you love someone, you always want to feel them with your whole being, with every cell, to feel all their anxieties, all their pain… To suffer their illnesses. To understand and help," she fell silent to take a breath, and smiled softly.
"And I think I'm lucky… I felt you, didn't I? I still feel you now. I don't know how or why, but I'm happy. I just wish it would last longer…" her eyes looked at the pilot with undisguised love.
"And I'm fine," she added softly, touching his elbow so as not to interfere with his driving, but to let him know she was grateful for his concern.
For a few seconds, the pilot looked at her, inquisitively and anxiously, until he was convinced that the girl was indeed alright. Only then did he nod slowly.
"You're doing something to me, Sher... Something I couldn't do before and never thought was possible. Thank you..."
Sher looked at Nick, and a strange smile played on her lips.
"It's not me, Nick," she shook her head. "I don't have your Force. And as a doctor, I couldn't help you much," the girl closed her eyes and leaned her head against the high back of the seat. "And I don't deserve your gratitude for anything..."
But her lips continued to smile.
"Perhaps my 'miracle god' has great power?" she said to herself.
"My thanks," the pilot grumbled good-naturedly, "I give thanks to whomever I want, and don't argue with elders... in all respects."
At the same time as his grumbling, something touched Sher. Nick hadn't touched her, but the feeling of being confidently and gently embraced was not easy to shake off.
Sher even felt like nuzzling her cheek against the invisible hand, so warm and bright was the sensation. Her shining eyes answered him.
"Well, only if they're senior in rank," she generously agreed, hiding a smile.
"And otherwise, you're just a boy who's gone gray early..." the girl thought tenderly.
Strong, courageous, possessing such abilities that she was constantly amazed and admired, ready for anything in any situation. And she desperately wanted to protect him and keep him safe. From everyone and everything. From the pain of that terrible wound, which was like a crater, huge and lifeless, but now healing, as if overgrown with timid greenery... And from that terrible ghost that flashed in the darkest and coldest depths of his consciousness, scorching him with an icy breath.
"Nick, who is that?" Sher suddenly asked thoughtfully. "The dark ghost, from which emanated cold and power? It has an... influence on you..." she added with alarm.
For a few seconds, the pilot was silent, then he looked at the girl somewhat bewilderedly.
"It's strange, but I can't completely shut you out. Not because I want to hide something," he immediately added. "It's just... There is knowledge that is not safe. But since you saw it anyway... He was my first teacher. An Inquisitor. A dark one. I haven't seen him for a long time, but... From time to time, I seem to hear his voice, which persuades me to do something I don't want to do. To obey - to stop being myself. To act on my own - to almost certainly get into serious trouble. For now, I'm holding on, but I'm not sure I won't do as he wants one day."
"Nick," Sher said quietly. "I don't have the abilities of the gifted, I have little combat experience, but I will fight to the last. Both with your enemies, whoever they may be. And with your teacher..."
Her eyes shone with a soft light of tenderness.
"Love is also a Force, Nick. And I love you very much..."
This time the pause was longer. Through the cottony haze, a sense of internal struggle broke through.
"I saw," the pilot finally replied, not taking his eyes off Sher's face. "I know... I'll have to be restrained for a while so as not to... accidentally harm you. Because if that happens, I will have no forgiveness. You are dear to me. More than I can express in words."
"Nick," Sher said quickly. "It's enough for me that you exist and that you said that now," her radiant eyes were very sincere. "You are the most important thing to me, Nick... And I won't provoke you," she added with a soft smile.
"I'm afraid I'll provoke myself quite enough," the pilot joked.
The speeder began its descent.
In order to recover his strength after Rick had spent half the night personally working on the "Mako-Ikai" blueprints, he needed to use the Force. To enhance his body's processes to restore his strength, and then collapse for a couple of hours to sleep. No Force could replace healthy sleep. By his calculations, he should wake up about half an hour before Weymi, if she slept for about seven hours. Judging by her appearance, she didn't suffer from lack of sleep.
When he woke up, the Twi'lekka was still asleep, curled up in a ball and hugging herself with her lekku. Her dreams were restless - the girl sometimes flinched, but didn't wake up.
Getting to his feet, Rick stretched without making a sound, which turned out to be somewhat more difficult. After a little massage of his stiff neck, he quietly squatted down next to the girl, carefully looking at her through the Force. He could have interfered with her dreams. He could... But he didn't. He didn't remember his real mother. Almost didn't remember. His entire life before the age of seven had lost its clarity – his psyche defended itself as best it could. Voices, stories... he didn't remember faces. But he remembered the care and warmth they gave him. And then the relationship with Gar and Anis... Concentrating, he quietly blew on the girl's forehead, while gently touching her mind, like one touches a kitten with fingertips to calm it.
"Everyone here is family... There's nothing to fear here... You are safe... Rest..."
She really quieted down, not moving anymore, only a deep peace wafted through the Force. Whether it was a consequence of slavery or a peculiarity of the girl herself, Weymi turned out to be extremely receptive to such suggestions.
A beautiful slave girl, fulfilling any whim...
Such a thought flashed and was immediately suppressed. Despite the idea originating in his own head, it was repugnant to someone who grew up on Corellia. Although... He smiled, looking at the serene girl, quietly got up, and unhurriedly began his warm-up routine, trying not to make a sound. Warm-up, a few flexibility exercises, abs, push-ups. Everything that could be done quietly in a confined space. He needed to make a corner for exercises on the ship. Undoubtedly, there was much to learn from Nick, as well as from Lariuss, but for that, one needed to be in shape. And lately, he had, albeit slightly, declined compared to how he was before Arkania.
Not him!
He needed to develop a legend. With a homeland, parents, and preferably in such a way that the Empire couldn't get to the bottom of it. He went to the shower, spending almost half a standard hour on tidying himself up: the new hairstyle demanded attention. His hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail, and the smuggler himself now smelled good, by the standards of Smuggler's Moon.
"I wonder if Weymi has woken up?"
He went to check, tucking his t-shirt into his pants and fastening his belt.
The girl was not asleep – she was sitting in an armchair, cozily tucking her legs under herself, and doing her usual thing – reading. When Rick appeared, she raised her head and smiled – timidly, but sincerely.
"Good morning?"
"Good," he smiled, subtly reminding one of a lynx basking over a thermal heater, and then with the same smile, he took the datapad from the girl, "no work until we've had breakfast."
Hiding the datapad behind his back, he said instructively:
"Proper nutrition is the key to a good mood."
Weymi raised her head tails in surprise, widened her already round eyes, and did something impossible just yesterday: she made a joke.
"I wonder who you managed to eat before breakfast?"
She ran to the sanitary block without waiting for an answer.
He smiled: the joke was a pleasant surprise. Putting the datapad aside, Rick scribbled a note on the flexi-pad asking to brew steam tea, and, fastening his combat belt with a blaster, went to the nearest shop for breakfast. He was gone for twenty minutes.
By the time Rick returned, his request had been fulfilled. The Twi'lekka was sitting right on the floor, with her legs tucked under her, pondering a complex philosophical question: what to wear – a denim suit that could provoke a dozen droids to harassment, or a long warm tunic?
The choice leaned towards the suit.
A package lay on the table, containing Vastrilian bread and purple jam.
"When we go to buy the ship, be sure to wear your suit," the contr smirked, "and if the buyer is a humanoid, I'll easily knock off about twenty percent of the price."
Armed with a knife, he began to spread the sandwiches.
Nodding, Weymi immediately pulled on the chosen suit. The fabric was quite thin and hugged her arm like a glove.
"Perhaps even twenty-five," the girl decided, glancing at herself in the mirror. "Need help?"
"No need," he almost finished, "I lived on a ship for my entire pilot career with an auto-chef. He was a good teacher."
Putting the sandwiches on a plate, he pointed to the coffee table, which was to serve as the dining table. Glancing at the girl, he became even more convinced that it would be good to learn some trick that would turn off unnecessary emotions, and then placed his load on the table.
"Let's eat," and he took out the datapad, glancing at the incoming messages.
There were two of them. Lariuss reported that she was ready to start work. Mukha sent the hangar address and the meeting time with the seller.
"Hmm," Rick put down the datapad, looking at the girl, "how do you like breakfast?"
Her lekku curved, demonstrating enthusiasm. Weymi couldn't answer more clearly for a valid reason – she was eating.
"Excellent," Rick smiled, taking another bite and chewing it immediately, "we have an hour to introduce you to two amazing companions. And then we'll go load the duz for the ship purchase."
Weymi washed down a piece with tea and looked at him questioningly.
"And what's so amazing about them?"
"Oh! Many things," Rick waved his half-eaten sandwich, "besides being shamans, they are also a very colorful pair. When you see them, you'll understand. Eat, don't rush."
Rick finished eating not slowly. Very quickly. He still needed to equip himself. Knife, second blaster, spare power cell, lay out Troy's poisons, put on lenses.
The girl finished her portion and began clearing the table, humming quietly and dancing to her own singing. She couldn't just sit still, she hadn't gotten the datapad back, though she could have occupied herself that way...
"Well, I'll get tired of you in space," Rick mused thoughtfully, pulling on his jacket again, "on the other hand, I won't be bored. Take the datapad and let's go to the car, we're leaving."
The girl surprisingly twitched her lekku, took the device with unread materials about how free Twi'leks behave, and with her whole demeanor expressed readiness to follow wherever she was told.
"And why might there be problems in space?" she asked curiously.
"You spend a lot of time in space in a suspended state," Rick began to lecture on the go, "hyperspace jumps can last from a couple of hours to a week. And now imagine what you'll do there? If you can't sit still for five minutes?"
He said the last part with a smile. It didn't anger him; it amused him.
"I think I've smiled more in the last twenty-four hours than in my entire life before. My facial muscles might ache..."
"What do you mean?" the girl was surprised. "Read, dance, sing, cook... And you wanted to teach me something."
"Yes, teach!" he chuckled. "Dodging asteroids along the way. But you're right. I need to teach you, so I won't be bored."
He got into the car; this time the Letan had to open the door herself.
Once in the car, the girl immediately buried herself in the datapad. The information turned out to be useful – she had already tried some of it, and she liked the result. Rick wasn't angry, didn't order her to stop immediately, and stopped confusing her. Life was clearly looking up.
Warming up the engine, the guy soared to the aero-track, completely forgetting that he was driving a two-ton minivan, not a racing car. But the universe cared little about that. He landed not far from the hotel, paying the parking attendant for watching the car.
"We've arrived, we're going to that hotel."
The door to the room was not locked. Bus was sitting in front of the entrance, diligently pretending to wash himself like a cat. Upon Rick's appearance accompanied by the girl, he abandoned his activity, raised his tail, and walked into the room.
The contr expected something like this. Bus was more of an invitation, so the guy, beckoning the girl to follow him, entered after the Kushiban. He felt no threats.
They weren't there. Lariuss was sitting on the floor, like Weymi recently, only she didn't have a choice between two suits. The mercenary had spread out strange-looking objects in front of her and was now waving her hand over them, her eyes closed.
"I told you, shamans," Rick quietly threw in Weymi's direction, searching for Bus with his eyes, "I wish I knew what you were doing."
The Kushiban was found lounging comfortably on a pillow.
"Lying down," he explained for particularly unobservant visitors. "I've been wandering all night in places where no sane person would go. I think I'll take a nap."
And from words, he immediately moved to action.
Weymi, it seemed, didn't need an explanation of what the mercenary was doing. She walked closer and silently knelt down, carefully keeping her lekku close to herself.
"Is this for luck?" she asked quietly, and genuine respect sounded in the Letan's voice.
"And I feel like an ignoramus," Rick whispered carelessly, squatting down nearby and immersing himself in the Force: maybe through it, it would become clear what the woman was doing?
Lariuss was working with the Force, that was quite obvious. Only this work was akin to the labor of a jeweler, who creates jewelry from thousands of tiny rings and grains of precious metal, connecting them with wire thinner than a hair. She put in almost no effort, arranging the finest streams of Force between the laid-out objects, but even the most skilled spider couldn't repeat this intricate lace on the first try.
"For the future," Lariuss replied quietly, with a deft movement snatching a nut from some tree from the composition laid out on the floor. The weave swayed, fell, and immediately unfolded like flower petals. For an imperceptible moment, Rick's inner gaze was presented with a strange door. Entirely of an unknown alloy, dulled by time, decorated with a complex pattern, it beckoned to pull the handle and open it...
He had been taught since childhood that curiosity does not lead to good. But the lessons did not stick, and Rick still carefully pulled the handle through the Force.
The vision immediately faded.
Lariuss straightened up, rubbed her face with her palms, and began to gather the remaining objects. There were pebbles, pieces of wood, nuts, feathers, bones... All this was carefully placed in a belt bag.
"Any news?" she asked quietly.
"In fifty minutes, I'm going to look at the ship," Rick informed her, remembering the door in the vision, "I thought that if I took someone presentable, I could knock down the price."
The mercenary raised an eyebrow expressively, glancing at the Twi'lekka.
"It's unlikely anyone will impress the seller more than this girl... But I'll go. I'll make sure everything goes without unnecessary problems."
"There must always be a contrast," Rick shrugged, trying to remember anyone who did such work with the Force. But besides the Sith alchemists from fairy tales, with whom his father used to scare him, he couldn't remember anyone. "Then let's go. We'll just make it to the meeting ten minutes early. I trust Karvo, but not enough not to check the safety of the deal."
"Reasonable," the woman agreed, getting to her feet. "Bus, keep an eye on things here..."
The fluffy tail twitched and froze again. Lariuss, without waiting for further invitations, headed for the door. No weapons were visible on her.
"Weymi, your task is simple: to represent pure curiosity. Ask any, the silliest questions. At the same time, it's desirable that the person doesn't think about anything other than how attractive you are. But don't cross the line. We don't need to fend off admirers," he said, disarming the car. Lariuss approached it, and the next phrase was addressed to her: "Are there still orders for me?"
The girl nodded her lekku – she understood, and dived into her seat. The mercenary lingered for a couple of seconds.
"Yes, you're still popular," she confirmed. "But there haven't been any serious enough offers yet to make it worth considering them."
"And once I worked in secret," the contr sighed, "I can't, like Solo or Mako, work. When you constantly have to fend off hunters and expect a shot in the back."
His grumbling didn't stop him from lifting the car into the air and accelerating. When the speed exceeded the limit, he fell silent, concentrating on the road.