Weymi involuntarily hugged herself with her lekku, but there was nowhere to move away.
"And how do you know who deserves it?" she asked.
"In various ways," Rik thought, "if someone points a barrel at me, you automatically fall into the unpleasant category. If someone uses their strength to do something, say, immoral to other people, then that's also a reason for an extra hole. And some street thief deserves only a good thrashing. Or a stun shot, if they stole something important."
"But how do you know who is right if you see people you don't know shooting each other?" the girl continued to press.
"There's a rule," he became serious, "if two are fighting, the third doesn't interfere."
"But you just said that an attempt to do something to others by force is a reason..." now Weymi looked with incomprehension.
"Recently, three hooligans, high on drugs, tried to rob a subway car, several perfectly peaceful citizens were under blaster fire. I had to intervene. The blaster is from there, by the way," he paused, letting the girl absorb what he had said, "but if I were walking down the street and saw a shootout... I would have walked past. You never know what started it."
Weymi pulled her knees to her chin, hugging them with her arms.
"It's so difficult..." she complained. "And you want me to learn this?"
"I do," he nodded, "I want you to be able to stand up for yourself. And... I don't want you to start taking revenge on everyone who kept you in a cage your whole life."
"And is it necessary to stand up for yourself?" the Twi'lek asked again. "It's probably no different on Nar Shaddaa... But you said to read about my race... It doesn't say that you have to know how to handle weapons."
"Ryloth, as far as I remember, is a very harsh planet, and the inhabitants are just as harsh. And from that..." he paused, choosing a word, "strong, beautiful in their own way. And you need to learn to stand up for yourself at least because I won't always be around. And in general, comrades are not always around, and it's better when you can use a blaster."
Her lekku, which had been raised, drooped again, but there was no sign of enthusiasm in her gaze fixed on the blaster.
"I... I'll try," she finally said.
"There's nothing scary about it," he smiled, taking the blaster by the barrel and offering it to Weymi, "no one will punish you for picking up a blaster. Especially a discharged one. A blaster is a tool for self-defense, protection. And now – it's good for hammering nails. Would you pick up a hammer?"
"I've never had to..." the Twi'lek's eyes became very large. "None of my masters have ever ordered me to hammer nails..."
Apparently, she now wanted to be anywhere but in the captain's cabin. For example, in another galaxy. But she couldn't teleport. She had to carefully take the pistol by the handle.
"It doesn't bite and it doesn't burn, it..." Rik smiled, "a blaster can't be evil or good, it's an extension of its owner's will. The best shooters in the galaxy sometimes consider a blaster an extension of their hand. Weymi, you don't have to become an elite shooter right away, and not even soon, it's enough to just know how to shoot. But first, you need to overcome your fear. You won't be punished for carrying an unloaded blaster. On the ship."
"C-carry?!" Weymi looked almost pleadingly, hoping the captain would change his mind. "But why?"
"Well, okay, not carry, but hold it, at least for a few minutes a day. And why..." he paused, "Because a girl in the Outer Regions should be able to stand up for herself. Besides, if we stop in the jungle, I wouldn't want some creature to eat you. And with a blaster, you'll have a chance to survive."
"I'd say – so as not to be the weak link that could cause the entire crew to die while rescuing you," the mercenary who appeared in the doorway said quietly. "Cap, there's another find on board – Nick just rushed into the doctor's room like he'd been stung."
The Twi'lek's fingers, ready to unclench, gripped the pistol handle tighter.
"That's also possible," Rik just nodded at Larius's words, it seemed too cruel to the girl, but it had an effect, "let's wait until he says something about the find, maybe there's no need to panic."
"The weapons are in order," Larius patted her datapad with her palm. "Bus is checking the main nodes. He hasn't found anything yet."
"It seems we need to look elsewhere," Rik scratched his beard, then sat on the bed and gently placed his hand on Weymi's forearm, "please, make us some coffee, for six."
Then he looked at Larius again:
"I found a bug and an info-chip in the cockpit, Sher found something in her room... We'll have to divide the ship into sectors and examine them one by one, all the walls, all the power nodes. Everything. But only after we make sure the power plant is okay."
The Twi'lek looked at the pistol in her own hand for a few seconds, then awkwardly tucked it into her belt and, twitching her lekku, disappeared through the door.
"I've already told Bus to check everything," the mercenary just moved aside slightly, letting the girl pass. "But this threatens to delay the departure significantly... And we have a pack of vornskrs on our tail."
"I think we have a day in reserve," Rik put the cell and cartridge from Weymi's blaster into the nightstand, "maybe less. I'd bet they'll go to Goh and try to take us through him. Or Goh himself will put two and two together and get four. But we have a few hours in reserve."
"I'll start with the cargo hold," the mercenary deemed it necessary to inform him before disappearing into the corridor as well.
Rik remained sitting on the bed, wondering if he would be crushed after the drug's effect wore off. For some reason, it became very sad when the cabin emptied and he was left alone in it.
Sher slowly pulled away from the door she had leaned against, lost in thought, as soon as it closed behind her. Her sigh was so short and quiet that it barely gave her away. She took a few steps, looked around, and slowly lowered the case. So, this is where she would have to live… A home among the stars. She should tidy everything up and arrange it for herself somehow… But first, she should do the most unpleasant thing.
Orri seemed to be waiting for her call. Although, maybe he really was waiting, since she hadn't answered his two calls.
In response to her "This is Ani," a verbal barrage rained down on her, the whole point of which was one thing – "return immediately, a respected client, well-known to you, wishes to invest a considerable sum in his treatment!"
"Orri, listen, I'm not working with you anymore," she managed to insert a phrase, after which there was a stunned silence for a few seconds, and the intercom exploded with indignant exclamations again.
"Orri," Sher replied softly but resolutely. "Whatever you offer now, I won't be interested. And please calm down, I won't compete with you. I won't be practicing medicine here at all... Understand it as you wish," she waved away his assumptions wearily, pacing the cabin.
"Well then," letting him speak, the girl continued. "Since we are no longer cooperating, it is quite natural for you to return my hem-sorption apparatus to me. Through an intermediary. Be so kind, do as I ask, Orri," she made it clear that she was ending the conversation. The partner was so taken aback that he didn't even object.
Half the job was done. It remained to agree with the intermediary.
"So... I had the contact of that Toydarianner somewhere."
Sher sat on the bunk with the intercom, checking its softness, smirked, and sent a call to the intermediary.
The mattress was old, but quite sturdy. The hidden spring elements inside sagged a little under the girl's weight, redistributed it, taking a comfortable shape.
After the third ring, a creaky voice answered:
"Intermediary Semon Karrrvo, how can I be of service?"
"Good afternoon, Mr. Karvo," Sher began politely. "This is Eni Wedge, a doctor from the 'Gale'. Mr. Nemo, our captain recommended me to contact you. I need an intermediary, Mr. Karvo."
Sher's gaze, meanwhile, drifted absently over the cabin panels.
The standard lining panels showed signs of long use. Scratches and scuffs were visible in places, several dents, traces of a carefully cleaned shot.
"I am the one you need, ma'am," Muha assured her. "What kind of deal do you need?"
"Very well, Mr. Karvo," a smile sounded in Sher's voice, "first, it is necessary to pick up the medical equipment for hem-sorption of blood from my former partner. There should be no problems, the apparatus is my property, but..." Sher tried to find the right words to delicately let the Toydarianner know that Orri might be stubborn, "...he might take it painfully," she finished.
"How broad are the powers you are willing to grant me, ma'am?" Muha creaked immediately. "May I ensure your former partner's cooperativeness by any means and methods available to me?"
"Mr. Karvo!" Sher stopped looking at the cabin lining. "No, no, no need for 'any' available methods," she said, genuinely frightened, "It won't be necessary, I'm sure. He's a doctor. He... I don't think he'll cause you any trouble."
"You know best, ma'am," the Toydarianner replied, somewhat disappointed. "So, to arrange the transfer of the hem-sorption apparatus, which is your property, to pick it up and deliver it to you. The rent was paid on time, your former partner has no debts to you?"
A shadow of hope appeared in the creaky voice.
"Absolutely correct, Mr. Karvo," Sher said cautiously, and deciding not to draw the Toydarianner's attention to Orri, added: "But that's not all. I will also need another apparatus, which needs to be bought somewhere. Write this down - a transcranial electrostimulation apparatus."
The Toydarianner reported that he had written down everything exactly as she said.
"And all this needs to be delivered to the 'Gale'," said Sher, getting up and walking to the wall. Her fingers instinctively reached out to touch the worn surface.
"And Mr. Nemo also mentioned a discount..." she reminded the intermediary. "And I'll send you the contacts of Oriell Hesp and the location of his clinic right now. Are you taking on this job?"
"Traces of a shot, most likely, cannot be removed by anything."
"Am I taking on this job?" the Toydarianner creaked indignantly. "Are you still asking if I'm taking on this job?! Of course, I'm taking it on! Consider your equipment already with you. Do you require anything else, ma'am?"
The panel under her touch noticeably bent. There was clearly emptiness behind it.
"Most likely, Mr. Karvo," Sher replied, pressing harder on the partition. "But for now, I have Mr. Nemo's approval for these actions. We need this equipment urgently, you understand?"
When something gives way, it's very hard to resist pushing further... She increased the pressure a little more.
"It's a pleasure to deal with you, Mr. Karvo," the doctor said politely, parting.
"It's a pleasure to deal with everyone who pays on time," the alien creaked contentedly, wrote down the clinic's coordinates, and disconnected.
The panel also creaked. And sprang open. Behind it, there was indeed emptiness. True, this niche was empty only at first glance. Inside, some dusty flat object was visible.
The niche, and even more so this object lying at its bottom, opened to her gaze so unexpectedly that she didn't even hear the intermediary's last words. For a few seconds, she pondered, trying to tuck a strand of hair back into her almost undone braid. "The object has been here too long, but... Whatever it is, it's better to show it to someone..."
And it was not difficult to guess where she was heading, quickly leaving her cabin.
Nick felt her anxiety, or perhaps chance brought him there - but Sher found him quickly. Around the corner of the corridor, she saw the familiar thin figure in a baggy worker's jumpsuit - the pilot had just changed clothes to thoroughly search the ship from bow to stern.
"You're agitated... Did something happen?"
Her dark eyelashes twitched almost imperceptibly when he suddenly loomed before her, just as the corridor turned.
"Excuse me, Nick, I'm probably distracting you," she said, noticing that the pilot was in work clothes, "and, most likely, in vain. But I have a wall with something inside in my cabin..."
The girl spoke calmly, but hurriedly, so that Nick wouldn't think it was just an excuse to see him.
"Behind the wall panel, it turns out, there's a niche, and in it, some object. I decided that you... That someone should look at it," she finished.
The pilot's face changed - Sher could feel his fear.
"Great Force, and I myself put you there..." he exhaled, rushing towards the doctor's cabin door. "Don't enter until I say so!"
"Don't even think about it," Sher said quietly but resolutely, catching up with him at the door. "I'll go in with you, Nick..."
It didn't seem like this statement made him happy, but there was no argument: the pilot froze on the threshold, peering into the niche behind the torn-off panel. After a few seconds, he relaxed.
"It doesn't look like explosives..."
And, no longer trying to stop the girl, he headed towards the opening in the partition.
Sher took a breath. Nick wouldn't have to disarm anything... Only now did she notice that she was still holding the intercom. Putting it on the table, the girl approached the niche and stood next to Nick.
"Someone's stash?" she suggested with a smile. "A safe full of credits is not superfluous for the crew."
From the stash, raising a small cloud of dust, the ex-CIS operative took out a small object, wiped the dust off it with his sleeve, turned it in his hands, found a primitive latch with a button. Click - and in his hand was a small leather-bound notebook, written in small print.
"It doesn't look like credits," Nick said thoughtfully, carefully flipping through the pages. "It looks like a diary..."
"A diary..." Sher repeated in surprise, trying to make out the small symbols of the text. "A diary that was so carefully hidden, and then forgotten?"
She raised her watercolor gray eyes to the pilot.
"It turns out I bothered you for nothing, Nick..." the maneuver to evade the pulling beam of his eyes was executed by her at the last second. Sher turned her gaze back to the notebook. "What are you going to do with it?"
"Not for nothing," the pilot hugged her, pressing her to his chest. "It could have been anything else, anything dangerous... You could have gotten hurt. This might not be the last surprise on the ship, Sher. If you find anything else... Please call me. Please."
And before she could remember her promise, or even think of anything else, her arms wrapped around his neck.
"Don't worry, Nick... Of course..." and she hid her smile in the folds of his work jumpsuit at his chest.
For a few minutes, the pilot simply stood, burying his face in the girl's hair and swaying slightly with her, then, with visible reluctance, he released his embrace.
"We need to inform the captain and check every nook and cranny here," he sighed. "Rick chose himself a box of surprises..."
"Yes, yes, of course... Sorry for holding you up... Kailas..." she said quietly, lowering her eyelashes. "And I have to go."
She also needed to report to the captain about the results of her conversation, assess his condition, and return to Shai. But first, she really wanted to change clothes to...
And she didn't look up, so as not to see him leave.
Long fingers, which could have belonged to an artist or musician, gently lifted her face by the chin.
"Will you ever stop apologizing for every step?" Nick asked.
First, the black pupils of her eyes flashed, and then Sher, very quietly.
"Not for every step. You are on duty now. And your time is valuable. And why are you calling me 'you,' right now? Not before? And go already... Kailas," she smiled weakly. "Or I'll find some other 'thing' in my cabin..."
"Why does the sun rise, Sher?" the name from the past, which sounded so strange on those lips, was the only thing left... He took it from his lips with his lips before a quick search of the entire room for "things."
"Perhaps I should search more carefully later... After we finish the inspection."
"Then go quickly, Nick. And come back..." she added very quietly, not knowing what she wanted more - to cry or to dance. Most likely, if he came to inspect her cabin, she wouldn't be here. And she would be busy. But his kiss remained on her lips...
Touching her lips once more, the pilot swiftly left the room. It was only a few steps to the captain's cabin...
"Be careful, Nick, please," she blurted out as he was on the threshold, and a cloud of her anxiety, touching his consciousness, did not dissipate.
He disappeared so quickly that the cabin door, it seemed to Sher, closed too slowly. The girl turned away. It seemed she didn't notice that the antique chronometer in her fairy tale had long since struck midnight, and her magical ball was over. Time to take off the glass slippers...
Sher changed her jacket for a T-shirt, from which a thread with intricate beads broke free, narrow jeans for looser ones, and her "glass slippers" with long shafts for army boots. The blaster immediately shifted the belt on her hips to the right side. Quickly braiding one braid into two, making her resemble a feisty girl, Sher began to hastily tidy up the cabin. On the worn table, a bird and a dragon found their place very harmoniously, and the bag and things - in the closet. She was about to continue, armed with available inventory, wiping the wall panels, when she suddenly stopped. There was simply no time to think about how the pilot would look at it if he accidentally caught her there...
The girl looked out into the corridor. There was no one on the middle deck. The neighboring cabin was unlocked and also empty. Sher closed the door to Nick's room behind her... After some time, she came out, just as quietly and cautiously. Well, the partitions in the cabin didn't become new, but now there was almost sterile cleanliness.
A few minutes for the shower cabin, a couple more minutes to send the dirty bedding, removed from the beds, to its destination... Sher left her cabin with her usual briefcase, with cheeks reddened from the cold water and with a silent promise to herself not to remember fairy tales anymore. But the fairy tale remained within her.