Someone knocked softly but confidently on the cabin door.
"Mrs. Kale?" a voice he didn't recognize was heard. "May I come in?"
Day, who had dozed off, struggled to lift her head from the pillow. She sat up and, coming to her senses, replied in a low, hoarse voice from sleep:
"Come in."
The door opened, and a man in uniform appeared in the doorway.
"Bakrana Spaceport Security, Captain Ilsy Hoyt," he introduced himself. "Sorry to disturb your rest, but I need to ask you a few questions."
"I'm listening carefully," Day tilted her head to the side.
The man walked into the cabin, sat on a free chair, and took a deck from his pocket.
"Mrs. Kale, please tell me, under what circumstances did you board this ship?"
"Our ship was attacked by pirates, I was sent in a спаскапсуле, the crew of this ship picked me up. That's all."
Repeating the same thing with each new instance was becoming increasingly tedious.
"Do you know anything about the fate of the other expedition members?" the security officer clarified, writing something down.
The woman shook her head:
"For sure? No."
"Alright," the officer put away the deck. "We will send a request to your place of service, Mrs. Kale. Until we receive a response to the request, you are free to move around the planet's territory, provided you comply with our laws. You can use the spaceport's service housing while you wait, or, by agreement with Captain Monroe, wait here. We will inform you when we receive the answer. This will happen within twenty-four hours."
"Thank you, sir." The woman stood up to escort the guest to the door. And, as always, she completely forgot that she had taken off her uniform jacket before going to bed, remaining in a tank top that revealed more than it concealed. In general, the sway of her chest turned out to be somewhat more erotic than she would have liked. Slightly embarrassed, Day said goodbye, slammed the door, and this time locked it. Her thoughts were racing. She needed to tell the captain about the security officer's visit as soon as possible.
Praying silently to the Mother of All That Exists, she habitually put on and fastened her uniform, and on autopilot, braided her hair. With a crooked smile, she rubbed the "Excellent Subterranean Scout" badge, which KIK awarded after at least ten years of service and for a single discovery. Day froze for a few seconds in front of the cabin door: it was polished so well that it could serve as a mirror.
"Well, my well-fed gazelle, let's go scouting," she encouraged herself and went out.
Day remembered the way to the wardroom only from Sher's description, but found it quickly.
Honestly, Day had no idea where to find the captain, but she was lucky today, or it was the case of "the hunter and the beast runs." The captain was found in the wardroom and, most importantly, alone. She stopped at the threshold and knocked on the wall.
"Huh?" Rick was sitting in a chair left by the ship's previous owner, thoughtfully studying his deck, "is that you, Day, come in."
"It's me. Captain, a representative of the local security came to me. He's eager to inform my... uh... employers about my resurrection. He said he expects an answer in about a day. What are we going to do?" Day preferred to stand.
"Haven't you done that already?" Rick easily recalled the record of the communication session with Corellia, as well as the bill for it, "I thought you had contacted your House."
And there was also this curious "we"...
Day smiled:
"You see, Captain, there are nuances. The boss, of course, is aware, but he's not the highest-ranking person in the Office. And I... I have no idea," she struggled to find a decent equivalent for the planetologist's favorite expression, "whether he has told anyone else that I am alive yet. We have reason to suspect that the party was simply 'handed over' to pirates. Someone from our own ranks," the woman sank heavily into the neighboring chair. And in a completely different tone, she asked, "By the way, yes, how much do I owe for the conversation with Corellia and the letters to Kuat? Planetologists are not poor people, and my account doesn't seem to be blocked yet."
"And that all the 'nashtakhs' can be sent after you," the guy summed up, "to cover themselves. Convenient..."
And also immoral, brazen, and vile, but... Convenient and logical. The woman wasn't lying, and she also had crystals and information on where to get them many times more... A very valuable cargo... Rick wanted to get his hands on it. That would also be convenient. And logical. But... "And you're afraid of the consequences, not knowing how to influence the situation in your favor," one call to Rimon, and everything could have been settled, but he was dead and wasn't going to be resurrected, not yet.
"I don't see anything wrong with you staying on my ship."
KIK will still conduct an internal investigation, and after its completion, something can be done. And it also opened up opportunities to obtain the woman's data without crossing his moral principles.
"Okay, we're ignoring the digs, wonderful," Day noted to herself, and aloud said, "Thank you for the invitation! I'll stay. Especially since the boss almost ordered me to. And as for the 'nashtakhs'... That's unlikely. One of the main principles of our service is that in case of an emergency, materials and women are saved, if there are any on board. If not - the youngest or the one with the most children is saved. So I'm not getting 'nashtakhs', thanks to the Great Mother. But the investigation requires time. By the time they find the 'rat', more people could die. Do you understand?" Day blurted out. "Excuse me, do you understand? And also... it takes quite a lot of time to train at least an average planetologist, and now we've become one party less. That's fifty people. Or rather, forty-nine. Plus the crew," the planetologist's face became stern. "And the rat is sitting somewhere and waiting..." she clenched her fist and hit the armrest of the chair. "And yes, as soon as they start hanging 'nashtakhs', whoever does it first will give themselves away with... let's say, their guts. Because it would be much more profitable for me personally to protect the supplies, get a fee, again, discoverers have a good percentage of every deposit that brings income. And to ruin the guys, to surrender to pirates... That's not feminine, forgive me for my frankness."
Rick couldn't understand the woman's motivation. To stay on an unknown ship with an unknown crew... He would have preferred to go home, and he would have advised Day the same, if not for the information.
"Maps of deposits on the black market pay much more than the discoverers' percentage," he finally said, after thinking about what he had heard, "we'll discuss the payment for your stay on the ship separately, but not now, I simply don't have time. You can discuss it with the navigator."
A small revenge on Nick...
"Or wait until I sort out my pressing matters," he concluded, getting up from the chair, "in any case, the payment issue will be raised before we leave this planet, so as not to deprive you of your right to choose."
Suddenly, the planetologist burst out laughing. Loudly, heartily. After laughing, Day said:
"Forgive me. Sir, the thing is, the market is black. And those to whom you sell the maps usually want to get both the maps and the money. They'll kill you and won't even flinch. There have been precedents, you know. And I wouldn't want to leave my children orphans before I see at least my grandchildren. And your ship..." she smiled warmly, "it gives a reliable impression. If you're interested... then I'm staying because you have a charming doctor. I've lived long enough to understand: such a girl wouldn't work for pirates."
"You're lucky, you don't know the realities of the black market well," the counter sighed sadly and added, "We are indeed not pirates, ma'am. But I strongly advise you not to count on us being holo-film heroes. Although our doctor is indeed charming, I won't argue. For now, you can occupy the cabin assigned to you. I'm done, and impatient people in uniform are waiting for me, please excuse me."
He didn't warn the planetologist not to visit the technical compartment; the overused phrase had become tiresome, so he simply left the wardroom and headed for the security officers, whom he still had to escort off the ship. And Bus wouldn't let anyone poke their curious nose where it shouldn't be.
Day sat for a little longer, then got up and headed for her cabin.
"Okay, the scenery is changing," Sher thought, frantically pulling off her tank top and jeans. So, in just her panties, she froze by the wardrobe. True, she had no choice problem. For four years now. And lately, she sometimes wanted to be beautiful so much... A shy smile flickered like a shadow on her lips and hid somewhere deep in her heart. And there, a sigh froze, unborn. Well, as a representative of Captain Rickard Monroe, it was more appropriate for her to appear in the same best outfit she wore on the day of her walk with Nick, not in a tank top. Only without the white scarf. Most likely, it remained in the carriage after their fantastic dance in the sky of Nar Shaddaa... And now Nick is on duty... And she...
"On duty," Sher told herself, scanning the list of suppliers and manufacturers of pharmaceuticals. The list was extensive and interesting. Thanks to Weymi, she had something to work with. Sher buried herself in the datapad, and when, after pausing her study of the offers, she looked up, she realized that she, God knows how long, was standing in front of Day's cabin.
"D-a-a-a-y," slender fingers tapped on the bulkhead, "it's Sher, are you awake?"
Day sharply got up from the bunk and silently opened the door.
"Nice to see you again, Sher. You look gorgeous! Is something going on?"
"Uh..." Sher felt a bit embarrassed by the unexpected compliment. "Thank you, Day," she smiled, overcoming her confusion. "Don't you want to get some fresh air on the surface? I'd love to take you with me. True, I'm going for medications... But I don't think it will take all the time," she added hastily.
"Thank you for the invitation, Sher, I'd be happy to accompany you, but only... Do you think I should change, or is there a point in going in uniform?"
"I think it's not worth showing it off, since things aren't so clear with your expedition," Sher remarked softly. "And... and it's better to wear something that can be easily removed," she added thoughtfully, twirling a strand of hair.
"In what sense, 'easily removed'?" Day asked with bewilderment in her voice.
"Oh, sorry," the girl let out a chuckle, and a blush instantly covered her cheekbones. "I'm afraid you misunderstood me... I haven't been to clothing boutiques for four years... And I thought you... that we could visit them," she finished cheerfully.
Day laughed in response.
"It's you I should apologize to, Sher! I forgot about such a pastime," Day took a vacuum-sealed bag with "dressy" clothes out of her bag. She deftly opened the valve of the bag and pulled out a long, light dress of pale green silk.
"Is this suitable?" Day asked and added: "And it comes off easily."
"Oh... A dress... And so beautiful!" Sher's eyes even lit up with pleasure. "You'll look stunning! Get ready, and I'll call a car. We won't bother renting one, will we? At least, not yet?"
Yes, she passionately wanted to feel behind the wheel of a speeder again, but she reasoned that the road would take too much attention and... "We'll see," she reassured herself.
"I'll be waiting for you in the hangar," the girl finished with a smile, glancing at the door. She desperately needed to get to one more place...
"Sher, please don't run off. I need a little time to change. Please, sit down."
With these words, Day gently seated Sher on a chair.
Taking off her jacket and "work" tank top, Day wiped her body with wet wipes and deodorant. From another bag, she pulled out a tank top, more like a hybrid of a corset and a bra, and put it on. Then the pants went onto the back of the second chair, and Day put on the dress. Soft shoes to match completed the transformation, a few strokes of a comb - and a long dark wave cascaded over her shoulders.
"How is it better?" Kale asked Sher. "Like this, or pinned up again?"
Seating Sher on a chair when her soul and body yearned to go to the cockpit to say goodbye to Nick was akin to seating her on hot coals. But what could she do, she sat, distractedly looking at the planetologist's preparations. And she mused about how a dress changes women... Instead of a combat KIK officer, in front of Sher stood femininity itself in flowing green silk streams.
"No, no, leave it like that, loose," Sher protested any attempt to tie such magnificence into a knot.
"Well, I'm ready," Day said. "Shall we go? Without you, I'd risk getting lost."
"Gorgeous," Sher smiled approvingly, instantly getting up from the chair as if it were indeed hot. But she still managed not to look towards the cockpit when they turned to the elevator. Only when they got downstairs did she realize that she couldn't *not* see him, even before such a small separation... And are there small separations? Sher tried in vain to distract herself by choosing a carrier, but... To see him, even for a second... and then... Then she would be all patient, focused, businesslike, and even economical... Any.
"Day, excuse me, I'll be right back," she couldn't stand it, "I forgot something."
And, shoving the datapad into her hands, with which she was choosing a car service, she darted to the elevator.
The hurricane named Sher swept through the middle deck of "The Incident" towards the cockpit, though without destruction. Although the navigator in his chair was less fortunate. Nick was showered with a cascade of linen hair, a warm touch of a cheek, and broken whispers, cutting him off from the outside world. In addition, two arms wrapped around the gray-haired navigator's neck.
"Nick, I'm just for a minute... I'm with Day for medications... What should I bring you?"
Slightly taken aback by such an onslaught - however, quite pleasant, the navigator pulled her closer.
"Yourself, and if possible, in full," he joked. "Medicine as a gift - that's not for my age yet. But if you happen to find cheese, in hard little balls... They say it's very tasty here."
"Agreed," she whispered, pressing her lips somewhere near his temple. "Both the full set and the cheese..."
The intertwined arms tightened for a moment, and then it was all over at once. Both the warmth and the whispers. The world around became visible and real again.
Sher came down, already almost calm. She had managed to make sure that Mr. Karvo and Shai were fine, that all matters could wait until her return. A faint shadow of anxiety settled at the very bottom of her radiant eyes, and was no longer noticeable to others.
"Was I long? Are you tired of waiting?" she asked almost in a rush, flying into the hangar, and noticing the datapad in the planetologist's hands, she was a little flustered.
"Oh, I've burdened you, Day..." she said, taking the gadget from the Corellian's hands.
"No, not at all! The car will be here any minute."
"Then let's go!" Sher threw a smiling glance at the woman and was the first to run down the ramp.
Day descended slowly and majestically behind her.
"Let's go, the car will land at the parking lot, and for that, we'll have to walk beyond the spaceport," Day said, taking her companion by the hand.
"With such a load, you can't run far..."
The ladies quickly left the spaceport territory and soon found themselves at the car parking lot, where the ordered vehicle proudly gleamed with its eclectically painted sides under the warm sun.
"Your coloring even pleases my aesthetic perception," Sher remarked to the driver, who opened the doors for her, but she didn't get in, waiting for the planetologist to approach, in her pale green silks that rippled with every step.
"I understand, business first?" Kayl asked, settling into the seat of the car. After all, the habit of wearing trousers made itself known; Day struggled to remember how to sit in a dress, and most importantly, how to position her legs correctly.
The car soared into the sky.
"You understand correctly, Day," the doctor confirmed, casting a focused glance at the highlighted list of companies. "And our business is quite urgent..."
"And complicated," she added to herself.
"To manage it so that the rancor is fed and the banthas are unharmed... Well, let's start with this firm..."
"Bacrana Medical Remedias & Equipment, please," she dictated to the driver and turned to Day.
"As our navigator says – without compromising the work."
"And that's right!" the planetologist nodded.
"I see that 'Chance' is lucky with those who have found themselves in their work," Sher replied with a smile, glancing around at the solid expanse of agricultural fields stretching into the distance. A high sky with the barely visible discs of two moons. Air that could be breathed, in which the scent of damp foliage and blooming meadow grasses of the valleys could be felt. Something that had begun to seem unreal. And a peaceful, absolutely peaceful planet. And a Spaceport, where holographic advertisements for coastal resorts spun, and high in the mountains, where groups of tourists crowded, where security officers calmly drank coffee from disposable cups, chasing it down with huge sandwiches. And Sher liked it.
"As you name your yacht, so it will sail," Day quoted an old children's holofilm, "there's something to that, isn't there, Sher?"
"Probably," she chuckled, remembering something of her own.
"At least, one really wants to believe it."
Engrossed in conversation, they didn't notice how the city opened its streets and highways to them, which, after Nar Shaddaa, seemed almost deserted to Sher. And deep down, she regretted not taking the wheel herself. But the regret had to end because the minivan was already smoothly descending near the office of the supplier of medicines and medical equipment, as the name on the hovering advertisement indicated.
Walking across the sun-heated concrete past parked cars and minivans, they stepped onto the threshold of the firm's office, which, however, turned out to be a completely transparent glass elevator that whisked them upwards. Sher looked down and saw the lobby floor detach beneath her feet and fall somewhere below. If the office had been higher, the impressions would have been much sharper. But the building's height clearly left something to be desired. And on the panel, it turned out, there was a standard interface button.
"I like them," Sher said, turning to the planetologist as she exited the elevator.
"At least, they have a sense of humor – it's in perfect order," she chuckled.
"You bet!" Day didn't admit that she was afraid of heights.
"Looks like we're going that way," Sher said, checking the sign and gesturing towards the door they needed.