Sher caught up with Nick in the hold of the lower deck, near the cargo bay.
"Wait," she ran up, tapping her ribbed soles on the hold floor and holding out a flat box. "This is a standard kit - antidote, anti-shock, painkiller, synthetic flesh, antiseptic. And an ampoule for cardiac arrest... Have it with you. And may it not be needed."
She tried to avoid meeting his gaze, tried to be calm, twisting all her worries into a knot. It could only hinder Nick. But quite unexpectedly, she impulsively hugged the navigator, pressing against him for a second.
"Come back soon..." she asked quietly, turned, and walked to the elevator without looking back.
Clutching the package in his fist, the navigator watched her go. Then he put the box in his pocket and dived into the hold to prepare the ship for departure. If the tension ringing in the Force was to be believed, they had very little time left.
As soon as Rick was alone, he returned to the pilot's seat and began the final pre-flight preparations, simultaneously dialing Muha's number.
This time Karvo answered faster. Only his voice had changed from creaky to hoarse.
"I'm lissstenning."
"Mr. Karvo, your voice worries me," Rick said with concern, considering dialogue options. "Are you sick?"
"N-no, e-everything is fine," the intermediary assured him. "I... Choked. It happens. What have you decided about our busin-ness?"
"Your people are late, so I'll take a risk and get there on my own, I don't want to lose such an intermediary," Rick promised, "maybe I should fly to the pharmacy, bring you something?"
"Oh yes," the Toydarian rasped. "Something... That makes breathing easier."
The connection was broken again.
"Are we working?" Jethro asked from the door.
"We're working," the counter nodded at the empty seat next to him, "you'll take the guns, we'll iron out some comrades a bit."
"We're always happy to do that," the pilot's limp was almost imperceptible now. "I'll turn on the iron now... Iron these ones?"
A pair of speeders appeared in the ship's passage.
Rick touched the Force to see the intentions and mood of the approaching ones.
Without a doubt, no one there felt friendly towards him. Aggression enveloped the flying machines in a murky red haze.
"Start with these," Rick almost instantly called Nick on the commlink, and without greeting, immediately asked: "Where is Larrius?"
"Outside," the navigator replied concisely. "I'm flying out to her... As soon as you clear the passage."
The Duro was already clearing the passage. Blinding flashes flooded the passage, the blister coating immediately compensated for the excessive brightness. The machines collided while trying to dodge, scattering them to the sides, hitting the hangar walls... Jethro finished them off with a few shots.
"I'm going," Nick's calm voice sounded.
Meanwhile, Rick himself "went." As soon as the aerospeeder flew out of the hold, the ship heavily lifted half a meter off the ground, simultaneously closing the hold and sealing the hull, and slowly moved forward, transferring all power to the forward deflectors.
A shiny drop of a minivan broke forward, shot out of the hangar like a bullet, and fell somewhere to the right, towards the liquid transport flow.
Rick's game on the control panel would have been envied by any keyboardist. Bringing up the images from all cameras, he barely looked at the installed proximity sensors, his peripheral vision was enough. First of all, he was interested in the concentrations of aggressors. He really wanted to show that a ship taking off is also a very dangerous weapon in the right hands.
Another machine was found at the entrance for people. Someone was already fiddling with it, trying to open the doors, but the shooting in the hangar scared them off. Dropping their tools, the hunters jumped back into the machine, but didn't rush after the ship.
Their speeder started chasing Nick's machine.
"Shoot down the pursuers," the machine was marked with a beacon and sent to Jethro's display. The counter distributed energy equally between all deflectors and slowly, provoking the opponents into action, began to turn the ship to facilitate the Duro's aiming and gradually get on the route.
The pirate didn't stand on ceremony - he fired heartily after them. But to his surprise, he missed - the speeder swerved at the last moment. The salvo splashed over the power conduit support, causing no noticeable damage.
"Oh, you think so..." Jethro got going, aiming at the fugitives again.
Meanwhile, Nick's machine sharply slowed down, making a turn with braking, it skidded and dragged sideways, pressing against the neighboring support.
Only then was it visible how a human figure detached from the support, barely discernible at such a distance, and dived into the slightly opened door.
The minivan backed up and hid behind the support.
By this time, Rick had fully turned the ship and, on repulsors, gradually increasing speed, moved towards those pursuing Nick, placing both guns at Jethro's disposal.
Meanwhile, something was wrong with the attacking machine. It began to yaw, disrupting the Duro's aim, but it quickly became clear that this was not a tactical maneuver. The machine was being steered, thrown, until it tumbled and flew into the power conduit. A blinding flash marked the end of this strange flight.
The minivan emerged from cover and rushed towards the wasteland. Nick clearly wasn't going to cover his tracks - it would take time.
"Do I need to shoot anyone else, or is that all?" Jethro's voice clearly expressed disappointment that the entertainment had ended so quickly.
Rick shrugged, bringing the ship into one of the vertical shafts, and looked at the screens to see if anyone had survived that the Duro could take his frustration out on.
To the pirate's disappointment, there were no more eager to get to know them better. Firing ship turrets is not the most common thing, even for Nar Shaddaa, and the space around 'The Chance' was rapidly clearing.
Rick launched the maneuvering thrusters and finally turned on the compensator, rapidly gaining altitude. The ship was much faster than the aerospeeder, but he had no desire to squeeze a fifty-meter barrel into the transport flow. Therefore, he had to take the ship into the upper layers of the atmosphere and slowly descend where he should.
"How are things there?" Rick contacted Nick again via commlink, simultaneously monitoring the instrument readings so as not to accidentally catch any spire.
"Reached the finish line," the navigator's voice sounded with cheerful anger. "You owe me."
Larrius sent a video recording file from the deck - Rick was notified by an audible signal.
The file was immediately displayed on one of the free screens.
"Let me know when you arrive and if anything goes wrong, will five minutes be enough?"
"War plans will show," Nick said, and disconnected. Five minutes in combat conditions is an eternity, during which everything can change several times, and he wasn't going to give the enemy those five minutes. The count after landing will be in seconds...
The recording was short. The transport flow stirred, some machine veered to the side, others immediately moved away from it - and an unremarkable speeder went down in a spin. The flight ended with a collision with the surface and an explosion.
"A sad end," the guy said meaningfully, turning off the video. "And I just wanted to rest before a new job..."
The ship sailed in the upper layers of the atmosphere, moving on its main engines. The counter preferred to reach the destination as quickly as possible, so that if necessary, he could help the group with fire. A couple of sectors from the destination, the ship went down in an arc, approaching the destination. All this with minimal G-forces. Firstly, the "acquaintance" with the ship was just beginning, and secondly, the crew, except for Jethro, might react very badly to an extreme flight style.
Sher went up to the middle deck, took a deep breath, and peeked into the crew mess hall.
"Weymi," she addressed the Lethan with a smile, "Rick asked us to sit with you and Shay. The company of a treating physician is always somewhat specific and monotonous, and she needs as much interaction with all crew members as possible." Sher adjusted a strand that had fallen into her eyes, and her heart fluttered: "A braid that..." "Will you help?"
"Of course," the Twi'lek readily rose from her chair and headed towards the girl with a flying, dancing step. "We can review the recordings anywhere."
"Wonderful," the doc replied with a smile. "Then I'll go to my cabin for a minute for my case. We'll meet at Shay's... You move very beautifully, Weymi... I wish I could too..." her consciousness clung to any opportunity to avoid thinking about the same thing.
"Then I can teach you!" the Lethan rejoiced. "You'll definitely succeed!"
"Do you think so?" Sher narrowed her eyes. "Well, let's try at Shay's. She'll be interested too. Maybe she'll want to learn too? Well, I'll be right back."
And Sher quickly walked to her cabin.
Waving her lekku cheerfully, the alien hurried to the Arkonian's cabin, temporarily turned into a infirmary.
It wasn't easy for Sher to enter her cabin. But she had to give herself a break, even for a second, otherwise... Otherwise, who would she calm down, how would she smile, how would she learn to walk with a dancing gait? Dancing... Now... But at least everyone would be busy. And Weymi wouldn't get bored and wouldn't leave. And wouldn't be scared. Sher packed her case and looked at the winged figure on the table.
"I'm just waiting for him to come back..."
And that was the only feeling she could allow herself now. Everything else - when Nick returns. And now - quickly to Weymi and Shay. The girls need to be distracted from what will happen.
"Well, how is our ward? Did she wake up?" the doctor asked quietly, appearing in the Arkonian's cabin with a smile.
Shay was not asleep. She lay, still tied to the bed, and blinked at the lamp that was too bright from sleep.
"I think the light is bothering her," Weymi said concernedly.
"We can adjust the brightness," the Kushiban was already there, pale gray from restrained excitement. "Or cover it with something. With a towel, for example."
He ran to the sanitary block and returned, dragging a piece of fabric in his teeth, the only advantage of which was its ability to absorb moisture well.
"Thank you, Bus," Sher carefully took the fabric from the shaman's mouth, accidentally touching his fluffy head. But now she didn't remember that she was going to check if the first mate could be scratched behind the ears. She rummaged in her case and took out a vial of wound adhesive liquid. This should hold the rag to the ceiling covering. The chair, which was nearby, was moved so that Sher, standing on it, could secure the fabric. Soon, the cot with Shay was in improvised darkness.
"Shay, is that better?" the doctor asked, still not getting off the floor.
"Yes, it's better for us," the Arkonian's golden eyes stopped squinting painfully. "We want to drink..."
Weymi rushed to the sanitary block and returned with a glass of water. Supporting the alien's head, she helped her drink, and only after that looked back at Sher.
"Oh... I didn't even ask if I could..."
"It's better for her to readjust to her usual diet outside her home planet now. To dactyl. There is almost no water on their planet, but a glass won't do any harm, Weymi," the girl said, moving the chair back to its original place.
Sher approached the Arkonian, with a practiced movement, placed her fingers on her dark wrist.
"How is your condition, Shay, how did you sleep? What are your sensations, does your head hurt?" the doctor's attentive gaze followed the lying alien's golden eyes. "Let me feed you."
"We woke up," the Arkonian rustled. "It hurt. Then it passed. We slept again..."
The Kushiban crept onto the cot, carefully stepping with his furry paws, climbed onto the chest of the lying alien, and lay down there, curled up in a ball. The cabin filled with a deep purr.
"It's better this way, yes..." Shay confirmed.
"Bus, you're simply indispensable," Sher smiled gratefully at the first mate, "you have such relaxation abilities that no one here possesses... At least, no one can purr so soothingly," she added with a laugh, taking dactyl out of the bag. "I would be grateful if you could come to my and Shay's sessions. And now... Shay, please turn your head to the side, like this, very good," the offered crystals quickly disappeared from Sher's cool fingers into the Arkonian's mouth, while the doc gently supported her flat, hairless head with her palm.
Weymi climbed into the chair with her legs and fiddled with the deck and notepad, occasionally glancing at the doctor and her patient. Bus slowed down, now his purring was barely audible, it had gone to very low tones and was perceived more by the body than by hearing, but it did not cause unpleasant sensations.
The cabin swayed - the ship moved. Nothing was happening here, no sounds from outside, but tension hung like an invisible veil: waiting when you know for sure that there is a battle outside - it's very hard to endure...
"Maybe we should dance?" the Lethan suddenly suggested. "Time will pass faster..."
"It's started..." Sher thought, holding onto the edge of the cot.
"Rick decided to try flying," Sher chuckled. Her lips obeyed poorly this time. The smile turned wooden, and the suggestion to dance... Sher took a breath and looked at the Lethan. And she understood - the girl felt everything. The ringing tension in space, Bus's tension, and her anxiety.
"Let's do it!" the doc said decisively. "Let's dance!" and walked to the middle of the cabin, trying not to look back at Bus. Probably so as not to see his coloration.
Weymi turned on the recording of music on the deck - a light, playful rhythm that was easy to follow, jumped up, her lekku rising and intertwining in a cheerful gesture, her eyes glistening with moisture. She desperately missed this - music and dance were part of her life, without which existence became quite cheerless. A slave doesn't have many ways to bring herself joy. This was one of those opportunities...
Weymi danced with her whole being: nothing remained that was not involved in the dance. Lekku, arms, legs, gaze, facial expression, movement...
Opening one eye, the Kushiban watched what was happening in the cabin. And he was silent.
Sher stood still for a moment. The thought of dancing at such a time made her insides clench. But then she raised her hand, the beads of her bracelet softly clinking against each other as they slid from her wrist to her elbow. Sher closed her eyes. The number "Sanctuary." Nik, sitting in a chair. His arm broke at the elbow, but his other arm shot up. And the same thing – sharply extended elbows. Angularly extended. A high lunge... a sharp knee. It was a dance-fight. A dance of pain, bearing little resemblance to Weimi's dance... A helplessly falling arm, frozen eyes... hands flying, soaring like a wing over an abyss, searching for an answer, and then a whirlwind of sweet oblivion, but only for a few moments... And again flying hands, again crossed like the blades of two swords... And a prayer, like dying...
When Sher opened her eyes, she realized that the music playing and the music she danced to were two different melodies...
She was met by the gaze of a Kushiban: clear and sharp. Weimi also stopped dancing – a call signal sounded, and the captain's voice. Lekku hugged the lethan's shoulders for a moment, and she looked back at the doctor.
"Need help?"
"He said – a Toydarian? He didn't name anyone else?" Sher asked, still not believing it. She quickly closed the case, slung it over her shoulder, and nodded to the girl. "Quite possibly, Weimi... Bus, please stay with Shai..." she added on the move. "Weimi, please, call me 'you'."
Her heart outpaced her, because it flew much faster than the elevator...
The Kushiban silently closed his eyes and continued to purr softly. The Twi'lek hurried after the doctor – if there was a wounded person on board, then. Her premonitions hadn't deceived her, and something was going to happen. Perhaps something bad... But she had managed to pour out what was oppressing her in the dance, and now she looked completely different than before – her eyes were shining, even her posture had changed...
Larius drove the machine into the cargo hold without any showy somersaults – she clearly and quickly passed the opening, flew to the far wall, and stopped there, immediately jumping out and flinging open the rear door. Nik ran up behind her, helping her pull out the unconscious little body with its twisted wings.
"Sss..." he swallowed a curse – he felt, and then saw, Sher's appearance accompanied by the lethan.
"I'll hold him," Larius took the alien from him, holding him with outstretched arms without visible effort.
Sher's eyes, almost black from her dilated pupils from excitement, lit up when she saw Nik. Her eyelashes lowered and rose again. The tightness inside released, and she managed to take a deep breath. The cold lump pressing on her heart melted. "He's alive..."
Which could not be said about the scrawny Toydarian; one look at him made Sher frown worriedly and rush towards him.
"To an empty cabin," she said curtly, taking a bioanalyzer out of her case and applying it to the winged alien's skin as she walked.
The navigator stepped forward, opening the door for them and holding it so the women with the wounded could pass. Then he practically ran to the cockpit – nothing was over yet; they could relax only when the "Chance" jumped. And that might not happen at all – the "Black Sun" would not miss such a serious outrage...