A soft knock on the captain's cabin door lagged slightly behind the pilot who entered.
"Rick? There's another find here..."
"Dangerous?" Rick looked somewhat tired, although he felt great for some reason.
"I decided not to torment the animals and test it on you right away," the pilot smirked, walking to the bed and sitting very close - at a warm distance. "Otherwise, Greenspace will torment you worse than the Inquisition... Sher... The doctor found it in her room."
He handed the find to the captain.
"It looks like a diary. Given how it was hidden, it could be a really dangerous thing."
Rick took the find and examined it carefully, without opening it at first.
A small notebook in a handmade, expensive leather binding was worth a lot. Real paper, not flimsipast - a great rarity... A small pencil was inserted into the binding - also natural wood and graphite. There were no markings indicating identity.
As with the infochip, Rick turned to the latest entries. They were much more important than the beginning.
The half-faded, pale pencil lines were difficult to read, but they could still be deciphered. Or rather, they could be. If Rick knew the language it was written in.
"It's a pity," realizing that he couldn't read it immediately, he flipped through the pages in case the author had left drawings, notes, or something else in the text.
Everywhere it was the same - neat lines, written in a firm, confident hand. It could be seen that the notebook had been flipped through more than once - the corners of the pages were worn. Some lines were underlined with something - possibly a fingernail. But no drawings were found.
"Hmm," Rick handed the notebook back to Nick, "we need to tell Vaymi to transfer the notebook to electronic format. Is the language unfamiliar?"
"This needs to be analyzed," the pilot quickly scanned the entries. "Perhaps it's a cipher. Symbols different from the generally accepted ones are used, but the language itself is basic. Or it's really another language, then we'll have to involve specialists..."
He fell silent, remembering that specialists were difficult now.
"There are universities that deal with cryptology," Rick smiled, "or whatever the science that studies this is called."
He nodded at the book.
"In any case, this doesn't fundamentally change our plans."
"There are universities," Nick didn't argue with the obvious. "But there might be things here after which everything that came before will seem like child's play in the sandbox."
"That's why I'll transfer everything to electronic form and run it through a couple of analyzers," the counter paused, trying out the word, "cryptography. The navicom should have enough power to process a couple of million variants in a few minutes."
"Good try," the pilot agreed. "It might even work. Provided that some not-too-well-known language isn't used here."
At that moment, Vaymi returned with a tray. On it was a crumpled teapot, with clear signs of hasty attempts to make the vessel presentable, and several cups.
"Vaymi..." Rick looked confused for a few moments. He had expected a slightly different execution of the request. Sticking the book into his inner breast pocket, he still smiled, "well done. Nick, take the tray, and let's all go to the mess hall."
Lekku twitched sensitively: the Lethan felt that she had done something wrong, but she wasn't scolded - and this confused her, like everything unfamiliar. She handed the tray to the pilot without protest, but glanced back at the captain with concern.
"Are you sure you should be performing feats right now?" Nick asked. "Or maybe we'll quickly whip something up here and bring it here? There's enough space for everyone."
"The doctor injected me with something that makes me want to perform feats, and I can walk a few dozen meters," Rick smiled, carefully getting up from the bed as confirmation.
There was a soft knock on the cabin door.
"Cap? May I come in?" the doctor's voice came from behind the partition.
The Twi'lekka carefully supported the captain by the arm - feats are feats, but support won't hurt.
Nick glanced at the door, but didn't answer for the cabin owner.
"Ah, here's our drug dealer," Rick waved cheerfully at Sher, "you can, but we're leaving now, and you too."
"Is that so?" Sher smiled, handing the intercom to the captain. "Are you feeling that much better? And I was planning to examine you, take blood." "And where are we going?"
"To the mess hall, to drink caf," he smirked, "I was going to do it immediately upon arrival, but the plan didn't quite work out."
In the mess hall, for which we had to walk a couple of meters to the elevator and all go up together... it turned out to be empty. A large metal dining table, a dozen identical chairs. There was no sign of beauty or decoration here. But it could have been worse.
"Thank you, Vaymi," Rick sat on a chair at the narrow end of the table. The head of the team... He least resembled who he was now. The thought finally crept into his head, with the clear intention of settling in: "Can you handle it?!"
"So, we just have to wait for Bus and Larius. There will be no Arkonz at our first meeting, but that's not necessary. Nick, do me a favor, call our fighters. We won't be here long. Sher, I'm at your disposal."
The pilot placed the tray on the table and left, catching Sher's eye and smiling with his eyes alone. The Lethan busied herself at the cabinets, looking for something to put on the table. The find was meager - a forgotten bag of fruit chips on one of the shelves.
"Finally, cap," the doctor sighed, but her gaze at Rick still shone with a smile. "Are you feeling better?" asked the doc, leaning her braids over his finger. "Now, hold still... There..."
Sher flicked a drop of blood into the analyzer's container. But she didn't display the data on the monitor. Perhaps she was afraid to see the same thing as in Nick's blood? Or was she sure of it?
"I still have a few ampoules of this nootropic left, I'll probably give you a course of it," she said, putting away the analyzer. Though not far. "And also, cap... I'll report to you immediately what I must," she sighed. "First, the conversation with the intermediary and partner was fruitful. True, I introduced myself to the intermediary as Eni Wedge. Second... Cap... Do you know that Shai is not a man?" she finally dared. "And, third," she added after a moment's pause, "the crew needs to be fed. And some, even, need to be fed well. How are we doing with that?" she glanced at the bag of fruit chips. Serious eyes looked strange on the face of a feisty girl.
"Sher, Sher, why are you attacking me like that?" the counter raised his hand, either defending himself or stopping the girl, his head began to spin from such a flow of information. "Not all at once, I'm sick, you know. Let's take it one by one. What do you mean, Shai is not a man?"
"Sorry, cap," Sher blushed, "it's just that, as the crew's doctor, I had to report this to the cap. Shai is a woman. The treatment will be more difficult," the girl explained, shrugging her shoulders, on the smooth skin of which, glints of dim lighting played. "And you, Vaymi, how are you feeling?" Sher asked with a smile, turning her head slightly towards the Lethan.
The alien glanced warily at the instruments in her hands.
"I'm fine," she replied, more hastily than she intended. "And there's really nothing to cook..."
"Girls, I didn't have time to go get groceries. We'll have to call and order food," Rick shook his head, jokingly wagging a finger at both girls, "you're attacking the captain, you know."
"Oh, no, cap," Sher protested, "we're here to help you! The crew needs a full, balanced diet... Rick, I could probably handle that. Or at least share these duties with someone. And now, yes," Sher agreed, "there's nothing else to do but order. We have sick and weakened people. And also," she added, after thinking for a moment, "Rick, allow me to examine the crew. Or rather, I ask for your support. I don't think everyone will be delighted with this," she admitted.
She wanted to say something else, but then decided that she had puzzled the captain enough for starters.
"Well, that's all from me. For now," the doc emphasized the last words, looking at Rick with a smile.
"You will, of course, conduct a crew examination. As well as create records, just in case. For such purposes, I will even allocate money for paper carriers and a safe. You have legible handwriting, don't you?" Rick raised an eyebrow.
"Calligraphic, cap," Sher assured him, raising her laughing eyes to Rick, "don't doubt it."
"That's great, we'll talk about it in more detail later," he nodded affirmatively, "Vaymi, before I forget..."
He took Sher's find out of his jacket:
"We need to transfer all this to electronic format. Can you handle it?"
The Lethan carefully took the notebook, opened it, flipped through a few pages, then looked up at Rick.
"I'll try," she said. "Not all symbols are clear, they are difficult to decipher in places... But I'll try."
"Ask someone to escort you to the communication hub. It's on the upper deck, to the left. There should be a scanner or something similar. I'll be satisfied with just high-quality photos of all this," he smiled, "and Vaymi. You don't need to rush to do this now. Now we will drink caf."
The movement towards the door, which had begun to form, stopped - the Twi'lekka obediently sat down at the table, holding the notebook to herself.
"Without us?" the pilot inquired, appearing in the doorway accompanied by a mercenary. Larius's forehead was crossed by a dark stripe. Between the legs of the people, a Kushiban darted, a delicate peach color for a change, and sat down decorously on the nearest free chair, wrapping its tail around its legs and folding its long ears along its back.
Sher raised her head, tore her eyes away from the analyzer's monitor, which she had calmly spread on her lap, smiled, and lingered on the peach-colored Bus. But she couldn't help but look at the captain: "And you, Rick..." They had different blood types. But something in their composition united these two.
"Is someone washing their ears with machine oil, and therefore hasn't heard the time I've spent?" Rick smiled and nodded at the remaining free chairs. "Sit down, let's take a break, discuss a couple of issues, get the news."
The pilot moved his chair closer to where Sher was sitting, sat down - fit and collected, attentive. Larius sat between him and Vaymi, caught the Lethan's gaze, wiped her forehead with her palm, and good-naturedly cursed the Hutt mother.
"I haven't found anything yet, except that everything is in order," she reported. "And they didn't skimp on lubrication in places."
Sher snapped the analyzer shut and listened attentively to Larius. Of the entire crew, she hadn't exchanged a word with her. And her companion is so... Interesting. And this was an opportunity not to look at the one sitting next to her.
"That's good if they weren't trying to compensate for any defects," he needed to check the ship's systems himself, but he couldn't start working if he wasn't sure he would do it with the proper quality, "let's summarize what we have now. A bug and someone's records were found on the ship, which is interesting - encrypted, the systems are generally in order. Apparently, the ship has a more interesting past than its former owner told me. But I gathered not so much because of this. First, we need to assign positions, and second, rename the ship. I'm listening to your suggestions and thoughts on this matter."
"Rick, can I? I have to get back to Shai soon," the doctor said, throwing her braids over her shoulder in one motion. She glanced at the captain and turned to the others. "As for me, I'm ready to help and learn everything that the ship and its crew will need. Food, for example. There might be other options," Sher said, looking around at everyone with a questioning gaze. "But help might also be needed in the medbay. This is for any unforeseen circumstances," Shergi explained. "I'd like to have someone like that on our crew. Please think about it..." she said, looking at the crew with a smile. "As for the name..." her radiant gray gaze stopped on Rick, "that's the captain's prerogative – to name the ship."
"I'm a pilot," Nik said, shrugging slightly. "It's what I do best. Well, and I can handle security. I'm not much of a doctor..." he glanced at Sher, "I'm more into other things."
"Bus and I can help in the medbay," Larius said quietly. "Plus... other possibilities."
"I can cook too," Weimi said timidly. "And I've had to take care of the sick... Only I'm not a doctor either."
Looking at the speaker is so natural. Sher was looking. Only her thoughts were very far from what Nik was saying... But she didn't miss the essence of what Larius and Weimi said. Sher hadn't expected so many volunteers to help in the medbay.
"Thank you," she said very seriously. "Maybe I won't be useless to you either?"
"Everyone's so eager to help our doc," Rick smiled, relaxing in his chair. "Nik, I was planning to use your abilities in a slightly different way. There's a navigator-bombardier spot in the cockpit. You'll take it. Bus, Larius... Besides your main skills, I'd like Larius to master one of the ship's turrets. The second, if all goes well, will be taken by Shai... Or Shaya. Now I don't know what to say... If it goes badly..."
He looked expressively at the lethanka, then sighed.
"We'll proceed with a positive prognosis. Bus, for ship security, we need someone not too noticeable and not... In short, I'm offering you the position of first mate. It will be convenient for negotiations, and overall, at first glance, you're the least dangerous member of the crew. But by seniority, after me, it's still Nik. Everyone else is roughly on the same level. Except for our Arkonian. Sher, you'll be the senior doctor on the ship. That's not up for discussion. Weimi, you'll be in charge of the kitchen, dining room, and cleaning. That's in addition to being my referent. We'll find a few cleaning droids for you. Larius... By the way, how are you with technology? The person responsible for communications remains unassigned."
"The captain's word is law," Sher shrugged, "though I hope you'll use my full potential," Sher said quietly. "In such a small crew, you really need to be able to replace someone in an extreme situation... Excuse me for interrupting, Rick," Sher added, nodding to the captain.
At the words about a safe crew member, the mercenary and the Kushiban exchanged glances. Bus, with a prim look, laid his ears back along his spine, and an ironic smile touched Larius's lips.
"Someone will be surprised," she commented. "We'll figure out the turret somehow. And communications too. And who's our pilot?"
"I'm also very interested in that question," Nik joined in.
"I'll be the pilot," Rick replied with a smile, "I've flown light freighters half my life, I think I can handle it. Sher, your wishes will be taken into account. Anything else?"
"Commanding in a combat situation and piloting simultaneously is not an easy task," the pilot, who had just been promoted to navigator, remarked.
"Just in case, the ship's controls are duplicated in the navigator's chair," Rick shrugged, "and I like non-trivial tasks."
There were no other objections.
Sher cast a quick, worried glance at the gray-haired pilot. She understood very well what it meant to him to be a pilot.
"Cap," she asked cautiously. "Won't piloting take up all your time? Perhaps I don't understand much, but leading the crew and looking for contracts to earn credits is incredibly difficult, isn't it?"
Nik's hand seemed to casually rest on top of her palm. The pilot felt her anxiety and wanted to reassure her.
"Everything's fine..."
He knew that in combat, a pilot had no time for overall command. But a civilian transport didn't have many chances of being under fire unless it sought those chances itself. And if the "Gale" did find them, those chances, then they still had time for Rick to learn some things.
Things that would greatly increase their chances of survival.
"Sher, I've spent my whole life doing exactly what you just said," Rick grinned, "only add to it the care and maintenance of the ship's systems."
And the weapon systems too, but he decided not to say that.
"So I'll manage," he said confidently, "any suggestions for the ship's name?"
If she doubted it even a little, may a sarlacc swallow her, Sher thought to herself. Sher was sure that the captain, especially a gifted one, could handle any situation. But why was it necessary? If only there were no pilot...
"I'm looking for expediency where there is none," she guessed. "And the point is that Rick is also a pilot. And he will never stop being one..."
Sher looked up at Nik with a guilty gaze.
"Sorry... I probably shouldn't have interfered..." her eyes said.
A short squeeze of dry, long fingers – everything is fine.
"A competent navigator of my class," Nik emphasized these words almost imperceptibly with his voice, "can also do a lot in his position. It remains to find out what our ship is called. Personally, I've always been bad with names."