The girl shook her head almost imperceptibly – she didn't have any questions she could clearly ask right now. However, one soon appeared.
"You wanted me to study my species... Is it so I can learn to look like a free person?"
"Yes," Rik nodded, "my life is often associated with... deception. I have to look like someone I'm not. On many planets, slave trading is viewed negatively. I don't want unnecessary problems."
Vaymi waved one leku.
"That's not a problem at all. You can always say that you bought me out and gave me freedom, and you won't even have to lie, and I won't have to pretend. The truth is always more natural than any pretense."
"Ah," he smiled again, a smirk flashing in his eyes, "and they'll consider me a soft-hearted, infantile romantic. Although... You're right. The truth is more natural than pretense."
"When you have a weapon, what difference does it make who they consider you?" the girl asked in surprise. "You can always explain to them how they are mistaken."
"Weapon..." the counter shook his head, his smile becoming sad, "I don't have a weapon, Vaymi. It's..."
He patted the blaster on his thigh.
"A tool of influence and a means of defense, like this," he momentarily took out a universal pilot's tool from his inner pocket to show the girl, "and a weapon... is a tool of aggression. And... it really matters to me who they consider me. As well as the ability to explain a mistake in words."
"It's different there," the Lethan concluded. "Not like here. I'll have to learn more than I thought."
"No..." he took a sip, putting a piece of meat in his mouth, "in many ways, it's the same there. It's me who sees the world differently. I try to see. I, to put it loftily, am noble. Shameless. But noble."
These concepts were familiar to Vaymi. The first – from holofilms and conversations in cantinas.
"And how do these combine?"
She was genuinely interested. Rik was unlike any of her masters, and the girl wanted to understand what he was like.
Rik smiled, suppressing a chuckle.
"It combines with difficulty," he paid tribute to the food, finding it delightful, "for example, I, you could say, robbed a man who saved my life. However, he doesn't seem to regret it. On the other hand, I decided to buy you out, I didn't kill two unarmed hooligans. I'm shameless because I can profit from someone. And noble because I won't do it without unnecessary need. Well, and again... Everyone has their own criteria for evaluation. For Alderaanians, I'm a complete outcast, for the Smuggler's Moon – too realistic and kind."
Vaymi finally finished smearing her plate with sauce and began gnawing on the bird's wing with her small, sharp teeth. She couldn't absorb anything new anymore; she needed to switch to something else. Simple and understandable. Familiar. Food, conversations – why not?
"So, you took what he didn't need," she concluded. "Well, the man you were talking about. Otherwise, he would have been offended. And if you took it, it means you needed it more. Right?"
"A difficult question," he mused, "I might even ask him one day. I just decided that I had the right to it. Due to some factors. A person with a conscience wouldn't take what belongs to others."
This time, Vaymi fell silent for a long time, pondering what she had heard. It wasn't a simple conversation. She hadn't yet seen a slave who would refuse to take something left unattended that belonged to someone else. Something that didn't belong to the master. Because it was an opportunity to buy herself... Something. Not a thing, because a thing would be seen by the master, and a slave cannot have his own things. Most often – a little food. Real, tasty food. Like what was in front of her now on the plate. What conscience could there be...
"Conscience is for free people," the Twi'lek said quietly, looking at her empty plate. "You wanted me to speak up when I felt bad. I think I'm tired."
"I've talked your ear off," Rik stated, "shall we go back to the room? You'll take a shower, get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day."
The girl nodded, wrapping her leku around herself. Tomorrow is a new day. With new questions.
Leaving the necessary amount of credits on the table, slightly rounded up, the guy stood up, offering his hand for help. He could have joked, but for some reason, it seemed that the Lethan wouldn't perceive jokes now. A car was indeed waiting for them, a room, a bed for the girl, and for him, the study of ship schematics that he had ordered from Muha. Rik now knew some techniques that could speed up the recovery process.
"You know, Nik, when I was studying, we were shown a holoserial about the Coruscant Police Academy in the evenings during field practice. The heroes even went on dates, armed with blasters and special equipment. It seemed so funny then... And now, to fly out for a drink somewhere, a caf, I'm becoming like them..."
"Speaking of blasters..." the pilot led her to the car parked in the parking lot. "I'll have to look for something for myself. If no kind soul wants to share with me, of course..."
The ordered speeder was closed, matte blue. The guard handed Nik a key card and stepped away, not bothering the guests as they got into the car.
Nik held the door for the girl. He didn't inspect the interior – he could afford a small check now and knew there were no threats.
The girl took the passenger seat. The speeder was exactly her favorite color. And everything was completely different from the last time they flew together. A thousand years ago...
"I knew you'd need it, Nik," she pushed back the long half of her jacket and unclipped the DL 44 secured on her hip. "Please, take it," Sher handed the blaster almost shyly.
"I'll borrow it," the pilot agreed, taking the weapon, "and return it as soon as I get my own. Two blasters are better than one... Now, buckle up."
The speeder gently swayed on its repulsors, rising into the air and turning simultaneously.
"Not like that, Nik. I didn't lend it to you." Sher looked at the highway, at the lights of the dense traffic, dispersing the usual haze, slightly illuminated by the dim sunlight. "Keep it, Nik. Always. I have an old Imperial one with me," she tore herself away from contemplating the highway to look at the pilot. "Nik, where are we flying? I wouldn't want to appear in one of the Moon's districts..."
"And in your cosmetic bag, you have half the orbital fleet, no less... Thank you," the pilot nodded. "We're not going anywhere, we're just flying. Wherever the flight takes us. For the first time in many years, I don't have to fly to any specific place..."
"Too many years..."
He feared that his reflexes would suffer due to the illness, but these fears were not realized. The speeder obeyed the steering wheel; he managed to notice danger in time and masterfully avoided possible collisions, controlling the heavy machine almost effortlessly.
"For the first time..." Sher repeated to herself. And she also had nowhere to rush – the first time... She almost pressed her forehead against the transparisteel of the cabin window. Down below, in the haze of smog, the lower levels of "little Coruscant" melted away. "It's hard to breathe on this moon, even harder to live, survival is a big question. But for the first time in recent years, I... feel good?!"
"Maybe these holidays on the Moon are given to do something for the first time..." she thoughtfully continued her thought aloud. "For example, to sit in the passenger seat!" Sher turned to the pilot with a smile. Her gaze involuntarily lingered on Nick's hands on the steering wheel... The speeder responded impeccably to his every movement, as if they had known each other for eternity, skillfully maneuvering in the flow. Sher cautiously glanced at the pilot's face. And she didn't distract him with conversations from the joy he was experiencing. The joy of flight.
"Maybe..." he replied thoughtfully, maneuvering the machine out of the dense traffic zone. "Have you ever wondered why intelligent beings tend to huddle together? There's plenty of space – but they'll fly closer to each other and on the same road, even where there are no marked routes..."
The heavy machine smoothly gained altitude.
"Probably, fear, Nik," Sher watched as the speeder easily performed a "loop," soaring above the highway and losing almost no speed. "Fear in the broad sense of the word... Fear of the new, fear of freedom, fear of standing out from this community, the instinct of self-preservation, fear of loneliness, finally..." she turned her head, looking at the pilot when the intercom signal sounded. Sher glanced at the name and didn't answer.
"Is something important?" Nick clarified, continuing to ascend. They had already left the main streams below, and now they were flying over those who were flying from sector to sector. There were only a few of them.
"I can not listen," he gestured with his eyes towards the headphones lying on the panel.
The answer was a strange look from the girl.
"I don't think it's anything important, Nik..." she said after a pause. "I don't have any more business here. And I'm not talking because I don't want to answer these calls, not because you're nearby, Nik... This is Orri, my ex-partner," Sher explained, peering upwards, where the sun was already more visible, though still dim...
"Tell me, Nik, what else could I do on the crew besides my duties?" Sher suddenly asked, not at all trying to change the subject, as it might have seemed.
The ascent continued. Smooth, gentle, but still noticeable. There were no more cars around; they flickered somewhere far below.
"It depends on what you like to do," the pilot replied with a slight smile. Up here, it became easier to breathe, also an illusion, because the mental filth of Nar Shaddaa hadn't disappeared anywhere. But the flight itself, above the tallest buildings of the Smuggler's Moon, gave a feeling of... freedom. From everything that was seething deep below them.
"Oh, thank you, Nik..." Sher whispered enthusiastically, looking up, where the smog had already thinned to such an extent that one could expose one's face to the sun. If the speeder were open, of course... The girl cast a fleeting glance at the pilot, but his eyes were blue, like the ocean on distant Corellia. Would they really have to go back?
"I love driving a car!" Sher blurted out, "I love to draw, I love to bake rishkeith, I love... But, I think, Nik, one must do what is necessary and useful," she added hastily and, for some reason, fearfully.
"You forgot dancing, Sher," Nik reminded her. "And can you fix a ship on the go? Reprogram the onboard computer?"
The ascent continued. The repulsor engines of the machine were not as powerful as those of a ship, and they could not take it beyond the atmosphere. But Nik clearly intended to test this.
"No, Nik, I probably can't heal a ship. It has a slightly different structure than humans and aliens..." Sher smiled. "But I understand that having a doctor on the crew is a great luxury, especially since the captain has medical skills. And you, Nik... You are gifted..." she said this word aloud for the first time. And it wasn't easy. Like opening the car door to fall to the lower level of Nar Shaddaa from such a height... And Nik stubbornly steered the speeder upwards, as if he wanted to leave the Moon far behind.
It was a feeling of such boundless freedom and joy that Sher even forgot what she had been constantly thinking about since she saw Nick's blood formula.
Because she had dreamed of flying away from Nar Shaddaa since her first day here.
"But maybe someone will teach me to reprogram the onboard computer?" Sher asked quietly.
"What else is needed," Nik replied imperturbably. "So that you then take our bread and butter away from me and Rik? No, we'll manage that ourselves... Otherwise, it will turn out that the doctor is a jack-of-all-trades, and the men on the crew are like felinx – for beauty and comfort, lying around on pillows. Waking up only to eat. I'm old, of course, but not to that extent..."
"You're old, Nik?!" Sher asked in surprise. "Are you feeling alright? Don't call yourself that, not even as a joke. You're a boy, Nik..." she said tenderly.
"A boy who has been through a lot, a gray-haired boy..."
"There are no jokes here," he said now, sitting relaxed, his hands resting motionlessly on the steering wheel. The machine had reached the limit of its capabilities and was flying without any specific purpose.
Nearby, some transport was landing. Its crew must have been greatly surprised by such a rare sight as a machine in the upper layers of the atmosphere... Nik felt a fleeting surprise.
"Another person called me that," the pilot turned his head, looking at her. "In some ways, he might be right..."
"I don't know who told you such nonsense, Nik... But please, don't listen to him, he's wrong! Believe me, as your doctor, if you don't believe me as..." Sher was completely confused about her current role and fell silent, embarrassed by her own fervor.
"As a girl who loves you."
The pilot didn't look away. It seemed he wasn't controlling the machine at all, but it still flew above the smog layer.
"That's what I'm thinking about," Nik said quietly. "Am I too old to be near you..."
"You think so, Nik..." Sher whispered, feeling tears welling up in her eyes, "And my opinion doesn't interest you at all, does it..." she didn't look away, although if she blinked, the overflowing lakes would spill over the edge.
- If I weren't interested, I wouldn't be sitting here with you now, Sher...
Below, the moon slowly turned. The speeder entered the terminator zone.
"I would have found a way to arrange your future and disappear from your life..."
"Again?"
A nearly forgotten pain stirred in her chest – and then vanished. The emptiness inside no longer echoed with irretrievable loss.
"I just want you to understand – I can't always be by your side. I'm almost twice your age, Sher... And I'm about to take on the most dangerous job in the Galaxy. Just don't think I'm trying to drive you away. Quite the opposite..."
Tears finally spilled from her eyes, leaving wet tracks on her cheeks.
"Nick... Please don't try to arrange my life... And you don't need to disappear, Nick... I'll be fine... Even here. I'll just know that you exist," Sher smiled through her tears. "That's the only thing I ask of you..."
Her gray eyes seemed lighter due to her wet lashes, despite the hidden sadness.
"Well, well, the crying lieutenant of the Empire..." she joked and turned away to wipe her tears with a napkin.
"It's much better than a dead lieutenant of the Empire," the pilot replied seriously. "But worse than a smiling lieutenant of the Empire... Sher, why did you join the fleet?"
"I understand your question, Nick," after the tears, there was a special sparkle in her eyes. "You haven't seen crying Imperials yet..."
Her smile held a hint of bitterness. "I'm afraid I've given you the impression of being a helpless, defenseless, utterly unsuitable person for military service, who can only cry and dance..."
The crumpled napkin went into the pocket of her jacket.
"Believe me, Nick, Lieutenant Pola Carrada served quite honorably. And she would still be serving," Sher emphasized. She had no conflict with the Empire. And she wasn't going to hide it from Nick. "It's not her fault that she was in the wrong place at the wrong time..." Sher looked straight ahead, but could hardly see anything. She was back in her past.
"War, Nick... Where else can a person who always wanted to save and heal be more useful?"
Everything else remained somewhere far behind, pushed to the last plan. And only meeting Nick helped her return to herself...
Nick raised his hands in a playful gesture of surrender. For a single moment. Even in the confined space of the cockpit, even not fully recovered, the ex-ISB operative knew how to move very quickly...
"I'm afraid, Sher, you've given me the impression of a woman I care about, whom I've offended completely unintentionally..." the girl heard, as she was scooped into an embrace and clearly not about to be released.
Left to its own devices, the speeder began to lose speed and altitude.
Sher had no intention of freeing herself from such captivity. She tried to slightly loosen his strong embrace, but only to look at him with a tender smile:
"Nick, did you offend me? Oh, forgive me if it seemed so," she touched his cheek with her lips and added, smiling: "Just don't think too long, Nick... Or we'll fall."
"Absolutely, we're falling," the pilot confirmed. "I can't stand autopilots my whole life... It's okay, we still have about eight minutes of free fall, an eternity."
You could tell from his voice that he was joking. He was unlikely to endanger not only himself but her as well.
With visible reluctance, he removed one hand, placed it on the controls, and leveled the flight.
"So, have you forgiven me, Nick? Or... should I repeat the request?" Sher only briefly took her eyes off the pilot and realized that the fall had ended. However, it didn't bother her much. A whole eight minutes... He shouldn't be rushed with forgiveness.
"I thought I was the one who needed to ask for forgiveness?" Nick was surprised. "Sher, I'm going to lose the controls again from surprise!"
Sher looked closely at Nick, and something elusive flashed in her eyes.
"You're right, Nick," she smiled. "We absolutely cannot lose the controls."
"One lost head is enough..."
"Therefore, we won't lose it," the pilot whispered, engaging the autopilot he so disliked.