...The colored pastels left soft, transparent traces on the loose, uneven paper of the tablet, penetrating deep into its pores. Sher listened to the Toydarian's breathing and bent over the drawing again.
...Two narrow girlish hands firmly held the steering wheel of the spider, only its shiny burgundy nose being visible from this angle.
The machine went up into the greenish-blue sky, leaving the tallest spires of Coruscant somewhere below. Not Little... The real one, whose purple shadows melted in its dark depths.
Again, as with Larius, Rick announced his arrival with a knock on the bulkhead.
It was at this moment that Karvo chose to wake up.
"Come in," Sher replied mechanically, her attention already occupied by Mr. Karvo, who stirred slightly in his improvised medical bed. She quickly stood up, closing the tablet, and habitually wiped her hands with an antiseptic wipe.
"How are we doing with the injured?" the captain asked as he entered the room.
"Rick," the doctor smiled happily. "You're back. Mr. Karvo?... We'll find out how he's doing now... He's just waking up."
"Mr. Karvo," she addressed the Toydarian. "How are you feeling now?"
The fly tried to twitch its proboscis, winced painfully, and squeaked indistinctly. Judging by the intonation, something not entirely polite was hidden behind the squeak.
"Thank you, lousy," he finally squeezed out. "It could have been worse."
"You haven't heard what your treatment will cost yet," Rick grinned.
"Indeed, it could have been worse, Mr. Karvo," Sher confirmed very seriously, turning to the captain and shaking her head reproachfully, "thank you, the guys arrived in time, everything else is fixable," her attentive gaze returned to the fly.
"It'll heal before the wedding," she smiled. "And much sooner, I assure you. Just a little patience, please. And don't worry. The Cap is joking," she added.
"It's good when you have someone to joke with," the Toydarian squeaked. "Did you fight them off, Mr. Nemo?"
"Without losses," Rick nodded, "but I really don't know how you'll conduct your business now. Troy's people will be even angrier."
"I'll think about it when I can fly again," the proboscis twitched again, Muha winced again. "After all, I never liked the climate of Nar Shaddaa, I'd prefer something warmer... And a good intermediary will always find work."
"And an office, a secretary?" the counter teased, "acquired property? I thought your brother was petty about that."
"Life is more valuable," the fly rasped and fell silent. The conversation tired him.
"Sher, tell me, did you order herbal tea?"
"Shall I brew it for you now?" Sher glanced at Rick. The bioanalyzer, brought to the Toydarian, filled the entire monitor with symbols after a short pause.
"No need, I want to check a legend. I'll need hard water and a couple more ingredients if I find what I need."
"It's in the galley, next to the coffee packet," Sher said, reading Muha's physical indicators. "Yes, I ordered it, by the way... And I'm grateful to you, Mr. Karvo, for your help. Everything arrived on time, I haven't tried the tea yet, and the coffee is just wonderful..." she couldn't help but tear herself away from the monitor to add her grateful look to what she said.
"I plan to land on Bothawui in a couple of days, if all goes well," Rick scratched his chin, thinking. "You can go with us."
The alien made an indistinct sound, which, if desired, could be taken as consent.
"We're leaving Nar Shaddaa?" Sher looked at Rick intently. "When?"
"Let's go to the corridor," Rick nodded towards Muha, "we won't disturb the guest."
Sher glanced at Karvo, who seemed to be dozing off again, nodded, and opened the door, letting Rick go first.
"Cap," the door closed silently behind her. "Is everything okay? No more dancing? Are we flying to Bothawui? When?" she immediately bombarded him with questions. And it was easy to understand that she had accumulated quite a few of them.
"We're not flying to Bothawui. Not now," the captain answered directly, "we need to make a detour to Tunn. You'll pick me up there, and from there we'll head to the homeland of the galaxy's main spies."
Sher coughed. For some reason, her throat felt strangely scratchy.
"We'll pick you up?" she repeated confusedly after him. "Are you saying you're not flying with us? Why? And... why?" she raised her worried eyes to him. It's not like the captain to fly on a different ship. To any point. To Tunn itself.
"I was invited to shoot at targets, Sher, and I couldn't refuse," the counter said a little guiltily, "so everyone will have to be under Nick's supervision."
"All right... Cap," she didn't answer immediately, thoughtfully studying the floor under her feet. "Meaning - not good, of course," she declared, raising her serious eyes to him. "And if so... Then we'll postpone all conversations and questions until later. Later, when we pick you up on Tunn... I don't want to talk about everything in short breaks between dances and safaris. Cap..."
"Sher, I have to do some things," he grimaced. It was half-true, but he wasn't in the mood for confession now. "I can say that upon arrival in Bothawui, I will make you happy. And now... Vaimi was looking for glue, maybe you can help her?"
"Make me happy on Tunn too, okay?" Sher smiled, not very cheerfully. "And don't worry. Everything will be fine with everyone," she nodded. "I have the glue. But where is Vaimi?" her attempt to smile succeeded.
"Sher, everything will be fine," Rick promised quite sincerely. "And now help Vaimi with the eighth crew member."
The doctor looked at Rick in surprise. It seemed there were seven of them in the crew? Not counting, of course, the sick Muha and Jethro, who were here temporarily.
"The eighth crew member? Do you mean Jet? Is he staying with us? Did his leg give out? Where is he, Rick?" she started asking questions.
"Jethro was a guest, and now he's most likely planning to leave the planet on his own," the counter waved towards the workshop. "Vaimi is somewhere there, she'll tell you and show you everything."
"With our captain, you never get bored..." Sher quoted an old pirate song with a sigh.
The glue was found where she had put it after covering the ceiling with rags in Shai's cabin. In one of the many pockets of her pants.
"I'm going to look for Vaimi," she announced, taking a few steps and turning back. "And I'm not saying goodbye, Rick."
For some time, the silence was broken only by her rapidly receding footsteps.
Rick didn't knock on the door of the Arkona. There were many reasons, but first and foremost because they didn't recognize private property and didn't have personal space. Despite his boots, he entered almost silently and first surveyed the surroundings.
The first mate was shamelessly sleeping, curled up at the alien's head. At the captain's appearance, one of the Kushiban's eyes opened, his ear perked up questioningly, but Bus didn't bother to get up.
Rick pointed expressively at the door: he didn't want to disturb the sleeping woman, but he needed to talk to the Kushiban. He quietly went out.
Soon the door opened, the alien appeared in the corridor, stepping silently with soft paws, sat down, and carefully wrapped his tail around his paws.
"Any news?" he asked.
"I met a Falien like this," Rick gave a thumbs-up, "and he invited me to an event. Hence the question. How long will it take to master the technique you are familiar with?"
"Which one specifically?" the Kushiban clarified.
"The one that neutralizes emotions," the answer was given immediately.
"Not very long," Bus laid his ears back. "But the skill is only gained through training. It will be easier if I give you the basics, and then block your own emotions for a while. Not for too long. Will that work?"
"How much..." he searched for the right words, but couldn't find them immediately, so he asked directly. "Will it change me?"
"How much does a droid differ from a living sentient being?" the Kushiban answered a question with a question. "All your actions will be logical and expedient. But concepts like duty, honor, gratitude... you can forget about them. For a while."
He pondered all this for some time, and then confidently nodded, confirming his agreement.
"Where is the best place to conduct the lesson?"
"Where they won't be disturbed," the Kushiban got up on his paws and moved towards the captain's cabin. "You'll lock yourself in, it won't take long."
The captain followed the furry creature, still pondering how dangerous the loss of everything that made him human could be.
Bus began by jumping onto the table and sitting there, his long ears hanging down. His light eyes were attentive and in some way resembled the navigator's gaze when he was piloting the ship.
"Sit down," he advised. "It will be easier..."
After waiting for Rick to get comfortable, the Kushiban began his explanations.
"The way I learned won't work for you. It will be better for you to... become like a computer. Relate yourself to it. A computing device receives information, processes data with a significant lack of system resources. Everything that interferes with processing is cut off. Feelings, value judgments. Only the optimal option remains - the option of highest expediency and efficiency. A computer has no attachments, no pleasures, no principles. You need to bring your consciousness to such a state. I can show you what a mind looks like that has nothing but pure logic. You will have to find the path to this state yourself. Ready?"
Rick disagreed with the Kushiban on many points. But it was inappropriate to argue now, so he nodded: after all, machine logic was understandable to him. Considering how much time he had spent with technology, sometimes their logic was closer and more understandable to the guy than human logic.
The Kushiban's touch to his mind was as soft as his paws. Barely perceptible. But enough to perceive his emotions. Bus didn't like what was about to happen, but he accepted the necessity of choosing the lesser evil.
And then his fur began to lighten. At the same time, Rick could feel how all shades of the alien's emotions disappeared - not with a sharp jump, but smoothly and rapidly, like a receding wave, revealing... a bare mind. Leaving an impression of unbearable light and cold, like a lamp in an operating room. In front of Rick sat a creature on the table that had no relation to him, had no opinion of him, did not evaluate him. An icy point of reason, infinitely distant from everything that could connect him with living beings.
Rick gradually began to follow Bus, and it turned out to be... familiar. In his time, he was taught to discard extraneous thoughts in order to concentrate on the essential. Garrison believed that a technician should concentrate fully on his work and, in time, instilled this in Rimon. But to go that far... He couldn't even imagine it, but he relied on the Kushiban, who was more knowledgeable in this matter.
When Rick crossed some certain limit, he... changed. His consciousness, purified of emotions, noted this fact, but did not evaluate it in any way. It was not good or bad - such concepts had lost their meaning. It was... rational. At the same time, he could feel how his consciousness's potential increased: the freed-up mental reserves could now be used to work with incoming information. For a moment, he could feel almost omnipotent - so great were his capabilities now...
A few seconds of demigod status - and...
At that moment, Bus let him go.
As emotions receded, he understood how much he relied on them. Almost everything he did was dictated not by logic, not by calculation, but by the sum of what made him a person. A colorful, interesting person, prone to the most diverse extremes.
Most of the actions he had taken, viewed without this prism, appeared completely different. The situation he was in also looked different now. Crawling alone was personally dangerous, wrong. But... changing decisions after he had voiced them to Jaro would be a blow to his reputation, and for Falions, it was if not everything, then a lot. This meant he had to continue playing the role, watching every word and weighing every phrase ready to escape his tongue.
If he had emotions now, he would smile, but his mind dictated otherwise: a smile required an effort that was not needed now, it was superfluous. Instead, he began to calculate his behavior model.
Relying on Nikolaus in this situation was... dangerous. Not so much to dismiss it completely, but not to rely on it completely either.
And his mind went further, highlighting the human's erroneous actions, and unexpectedly, he didn't have to go far. The very idea of completely abandoning emotions was wrong. The Falien would feel it, which would add fuel to the Black Sun representative's suspicions...
At that moment, he lost the light that helped him remain impartial, reasonable, logical. His whole being resisted the return to a consciousness clouded by emotions, bound by morality, ties of friendship, family, duty, immediately creating its own source. But he lacked the experience for what the Kushiban did almost without effort.
His mind, cold as the blades of the Red Guard, immediately dismissed the option of reckless waste of strength, and in the next moment, the emotion he had always pushed as deep as he could returned, and it became the foundation on which everything else stood...
Fear.
Fear of losing everything again. Losing it in such a way that there was no return. Never.
On this foundation, he built an interesting personality, often fearless, carefree, cheerful, but it hid a huge abyss within it, formed by the explosion of one thermodetonator then, many lives ago.
And only now did he realize that he was not ready, he did not want to give up everything that made him human. Everything returned to its original course, with a hitherto unknown aftertaste, the aftertaste of cold logic, which he had come to know so well that an ordinary person would never understand it.
Barely becoming himself again, Rick made a sour face, looking at the Kushiban.
"This doesn't work, it's dangerous," he concluded, "I can be caught just by the fact that I've changed. Besides... I'm not sure if this will suit me at all, in this situation."
"It's dangerous for many other reasons too," the alien shook his ear. "Borderline techniques are always dangerous. Now you'll use it to save the team, then - to save yourself, and from there it's a short step to adopting the behavior model itself without any technique..."
"What do you mean by borderline?" the question was asked immediately after the Kushiban fell silent. The guy was a bit weak on theoretical knowledge of the Force.
"Not light and not dark," Bus explained. "Light ones usually use them to apply dark techniques without sliding to the dark side. That's how they explained it to me. But still, each time they put themselves on the edge... and it doesn't go without consequences. Even for them."
Rick pondered Bus's words for some time, and then asked again:
"How do you personally deal with it?"
"I try not to use it," the alien looked him in the eye without blinking. "Besides, I never claimed to be a Light One..."
"And I never claimed that I myself am Light or want to be," the counter replied with a gradually brightening smile, "but to become immoral for me... Unacceptable. Do you have any suggestions on how to bypass the falien pheromones?"
"Do you think he'll participate in the fight?" Bus was surprised. "Why would he risk himself?"
"I think that after I don't use any de-masking techniques, he will be somewhat... Irritated. And he will try to extract the proof he needs. I want to be ready for that moment."
"Even trained Jedi have fallen for pheromones," Bus waved his fluffy tail. "If you don't give in to them, that will be the proof he needs. Another thing is that even under them, you cannot be forced to do something for which there is no inner readiness. To give in to them, but to overcome them - that is possible. If, of course, a person has a strong will."
"I have so much willpower that it's possible," Rick didn't specify what exactly was possible. "You're right, I'll improvise based on that."
He stood up and looked out the porthole, studying Little Coruscant.
"How is Shai?" there were many secondary questions, unlike time.
"She's coping," the Kushiban replied. "Doc is helping her, and I am too, as much as possible. When are you leaving?"
"When they assemble a squad for the assault," he replied after thinking, "soon, and I need to do one more little thing, at least... How far can Larius perceive his business card?"
"Within the Moon - he will perceive it precisely," the alien jumped to the floor. "Do you still need me?"
"No," Rick shook his head, picking up the same box, "thanks for the help."
"Then I'm going," the Kushiban ran to the door. "Shai will wake up soon. Let me out."
The captain opened the door, letting the first mate out, and went to the workshop himself to assemble the transmitter.