Rick couldn't help but smile and almost blurted out a curious moment from the life of a dead smuggler.
"No one expects agreement, Vaymi, but everyone hopes for it," he explained, moving off, "the more brazen ones take it by force. There's a whole movement of such women hunters. The main thing to know is: there is always a choice. It's just that sometimes you realize that it would have been better if it didn't exist at all..."
"In any case, he didn't introduce himself," the girl snorted quietly and brought up the list on the deck screen again. "You can't consider a business card an acquaintance, can you? He'll get over it... Rick, will we have enough cargo space for everything we ordered?"
"We should have enough," the Kontr estimated the location of the compartments on the ship, "there's the main refrigerator, and besides, any isolated compartment can be made into a refrigerator."
He smiled: the girl had just changed the subject, somewhat clumsily, but generally correctly.
"There's a lot of space on the ship, I can always come up with something," he concluded.
"Oh, that's good..." Vaymi stretched, finally putting down her deck. The view outside the window caught her attention. "It's so beautiful here... But the sky is so high and clear that it's almost scary."
"Scary to be without a ceiling over your head?" Rick asked sympathetically.
"Yes, probably," the girl replied. "On Nar Shaddaa, the sky really looks like a ceiling... Where it's visible. Murky, gray, and low."
"They say that on Coruscant, most residents don't see the sky at all," the Kontr said, parking, "however, I prefer the stars."
He got out of the car, gesturing for the girl to follow him.
The "Donis" company warehouses were located in a hilly area. Only the entrance gates were visible; the premises themselves, carved into the hilly ridge, were hidden from prying eyes, and their size could not be assessed from the outside.
"What can I do for you, mister?" the human guard inquired.
"Monroe," the guy introduced himself briefly, "wholesale food purchases."
"Meat, poultry, vegetables?" the guard inquired. "Frozen meat products - first warehouse, poultry - second, frozen vegetables - third."
"A little bit of everything," he surveyed the complex's security. "Vaymi, you'll handle the negotiations. Okay?"
"You think I'll do better?" the girl was surprised.
Besides the bored guard in the booth, no one was visible. But cameras gleamed above the gates.
"I think you could use a bonus," Rick hinted, "you still need to earn it and spend it. Lead on, I'm right behind you."
Her lekku crawled behind her back in an unconscious gesture of protection. Then the Lethan shook her head and resolutely headed for the first warehouse.
The guard brought the comlink to his lips, said a few words, warning about the buyers, and returned to his previous occupation - boredom.
The guy followed. If the girl managed, it would be wonderful; if not, he would know what to work on. In any case, he was nearby and could support the Lethan.
Vaymi managed.
This time they had to deal with a manager who didn't make dates. But he couldn't resist the touchingly helpless charm and the request to help choose the right product - he helped, chose, explained what to pay attention to for the future, and sternly glanced at the escort: why did you, good man, dump everything on the girl and didn't even bother to teach her to choose goods?
"And what should I pay attention to in the other warehouses?" the Twi'lek asked timidly.
The manager sighed, called the neighboring warehouse, and arranged for her to be helped there too.
"You're my superweapon," Rick said with a smile, looking at the girl, while stretching his fingers, fiddling with the car keys between them, "your beauty and charm are more terrifying than the muzzle of a blaster."
Stopping at the next warehouse, the guy jammed the key card between his index and middle fingers and looked affectionately at Vaymi:
"You're doing great, I'll be honest, I didn't expect such a result. But, probably, too much of a good thing," he handed the girl the car keys, "you can rest in the car, or come with me. Or you can negotiate a purchase again. Although I'm afraid it will exhaust you completely. Will you stay to rest?"
Vaymi thought.
"You know, being free, it turns out, is terribly difficult... I need to think," she smiled a little guiltily. "Although I can do it on the way back. What do you want?"
"I want my best assistant to rest," he made the verdict, taking two hundred credits out of his wallet, "and for thinking... here's your salary and bonus. We can take a detour so you can spend it."
The Lethan thoughtfully twitched her head tails, took the money, and headed for the car.
The guy, without wasting time, entered the next warehouse, mentally rubbing his hands and anticipating the disappointment of the locals when, instead of the pretty Lethan, a somewhat disheveled and bearded fellow appeared.
Rick managed to disappoint the staff of the warehouse in their best feelings. True, the well-trained managers tried not to show how surprised they were by the metamorphosis that had occurred with the girl, but they couldn't hide some elongation of their faces.
Nevertheless, everything necessary was selected according to the list, packed into containers, and was to be sent to its destination shortly.
When Rick left the last warehouse, he saw a guard leaning against the slightly ajar door, talking to the Twi'lek. Vaymi had a dejected look on her face.
The quite pleased with his successes Captain Rickard Monroe tensed, proceeded to the parking lot, and, smiling kindly at the guard, inquired:
"Is everything alright, sir?" his eyes, unlike his smile, did not portend anything good for the man in case of a wrong answer.
"Your lady wanted to know if farmers sell grain," the guard explained, turning to Rick. "I was just explaining that it's cheaper from them, of course, but the groats haven't been processed, and cooking from them... It's difficult."
The guy's gaze returned to neutral, his smile replaced by a casual mask of friendliness:
"There's a grain of truth in your words," he agreed, "thank you for the information, but unfortunately, I'm in a hurry."
The Kontr got into the car, indicating that the conversation was over, and meanwhile pondering the girl's idea. Checking the lock for the key, he asked Vaymi:
"How's the thought process?"
The keys were in place, as was the Lethan's thoughtfulness.
"This person said that the groats need to be sifted, sorted, and polished first," the girl sighed. "It's impossible to do all this on the ship. We'll have to buy from the warehouse too... Rick, why were you looking at him like that?"
"Yes, a perfectly logical conclusion," the engine hummed quietly, reporting its readiness to move on, "as for the look... Let's just say, he and I are playing on different teams. It's professional deformation. Where to next?"
The car smoothly started.
"Depends on what we're buying," Vaymi sighed. "We still have groats, household trifles, and your ritual alcohol."
"Then let's go in order of mention," he smiled, maneuvering the car into the sparse traffic flow, "have you thought about the food for thought I gave you?"
"I didn't have time," the Twi'lek confessed. "I was questioning the guard."
She kicked off her sandals, tucked her legs up, hugged her knees, and buried her nose in them.
"Rick, why did you call me a weapon?"
"It's a figure of speech," the Kontr rattled off without hesitation, "a set expression accepted in some circles. Specifically... Oh..."
He cast a worried glance at the girl, without losing attention on the road.
"And you... I'm a gizka..." he smiled, "superweapons were often mentioned in fairy tales. They helped heroes or villains achieve victory. It's a kind of generic name for something or someone that helps someone a lot. Specifically, you helped me, I already said why. Forgive me."
Vaymi twitched her lekku.
"You're apologizing again, though I'm not offended. I just didn't understand how a sentient being could be a weapon... Now I think I understand. You can use certain qualities where a blaster or knife doesn't help, right? And most people don't understand this, otherwise they would have guessed that they were being used against them and started defending themselves, right?"
"A weapon is a tool for causing harm, although you are right, many qualities are tools, and often weapons," Rick mused. "They say that beauty is a terrible force, Vaymi. Use it with caution."
The Twi'lek twitched her tails again, as if she was about to say something and then changed her mind.
The landscape outside the car windows was subtly changing - there were more flashing speeders, fewer farms. The proximity of the city was evident.
The rest of the time the Lethan sat, looking out the window. She hardly noticed the car stopping, Rick leaving to arrange the purchase and returning – she was too deep in thought. Only when the car finally stopped at the lowered ramp did she come to, shaking her lekku.
"I'll walk around the complex?" she asked the captain.
"Do you need an escort?" he clarified.
"No," the Lethan shook her head. Then she unclipped the restraints from her lekku and held them out on her palm to Rick:
"Keep them with you for now, okay?"
A single glance through the Force was enough to stun the guy and remind him of corporal punishment as a form of education. He shifted his gaze from the girl to the restraints, then took a deep breath and asked:
"As soon as you get a comm, call me, alright?"
"Of course."
The Lethan's gaze was very attentive. But her lekku didn't retract behind her back this time.
Turning, she headed for the port complex.
When the Alderaanian reached the ship, Rick wasn't on board. However, he was informed that the captain would be back in a few hours and was offered to wait on the ship, in the wardroom.
Rick was studying Weymi's jewelry, which, despite its simplicity, was worth more than the entire ship. In the corridor, he met Larius, who informed him that Solka was waiting for him in the wardroom and had been waiting for quite some time.
Using Weymi's jewelry as bracelets for his right hand, the counter headed to the Alderaanian, who had come to a decision.
"Oh, Captain," Hylan smiled when Rick finally appeared. "Always business, business, right?"
"It was simpler when I was a pilot," the guy replied with a sigh, "what did you decide about the proposals I made?"
"So, are we 'you' or 'thou'?" Solka clarified.
"Oh, excuse me," a guilty smile appeared on his face and immediately vanished, "but on the ship, I try to create a comfort zone for everyone. And back then, at the station, it was important for you to support... the culture of communication. We are out of danger now, and I don't mind this... formality. We can switch to 'thou', we can communicate in 'you'. I'll leave this to your discretion. In this environment, I can watch my speech."
Solka grunted noncommittally:
"Then let's continue this tradition. In normal situations, we communicate in 'you', as befits cultured people. And in extreme situations, 'thou' is simpler, I agree."
"Agreed," the captain sat down comfortably in the chair, "so, what did you decide?"
"If I had decided to part ways with you, I certainly wouldn't have raised the issue of address," Hylan smirked. "However, I won't work for you. Both because my House wouldn't understand. And because I'm not sure about the long-term interest. However, I was interested in the message about the abandoned planet. Therefore, such a proposal. I have twenty thousand credits, and I'm ready to join in financing the expedition. If they are not needed for the expedition itself, then I can buy scientific equipment with them, including archaeological droids, which will certainly not be superfluous."
"If you had decided to part ways with us, then I doubt I would have seen you again," Rick said emotionlessly, "but I was obliged to ask the question, and for you to answer it. I don't keep records, but I believe in the power of oral agreements."
He needed to know what Nick had told the Alderaanian, because... Because for a number of reasons, he had to know some aspects, and for other reasons, this information should not have been known to him.
"Mr. Solka, I don't understand anything about archaeology," he said calmly and thoughtfully, "perhaps we will indeed need some equipment. But you'll have to make out the lists. As for the costs of the expedition itself... The main sum will go to upgrading the ship's systems. I have some finances and connections, and I think they should be enough. But no one is immune to unforeseen expenses. And... Mr. Solka, do you understand that at this stage the expedition is unofficial?"
He nodded:
"Naturally. And I'm helping completely unofficially too. As a private individual, not a representative of my House. Otherwise, the sum would be different. Nevertheless, if the expedition is successful, and I hope it will be, I would like my House to have priority in purchasing artifacts. Especially works of art. Of course, besides this, I have a scientific interest. And an interest in adventure," with these words, he smiled so that it became clear what was primary.
"I am very glad that I have never been constrained by the framework of my House," Rick's smile was sincere, "I can do anything without looking back... Your House will have a certain priority, within the market and without detriment to my team. As for adventures... Have you hunted in the jungles before?"
"I've hunted almost everywhere," Hylan declared with pride.
The statement caused Rick... disgust. But it was only visible in his lips, which had momentarily tightened, and then returned to a smile.
"I think you will expand your horizons considerably, Hylan," he replied briefly, "but perhaps the next point of call will be a jungle planet, I can't say more precisely yet. I advise you to make the necessary preparations."
"Preparations are only possible if you know what to prepare for," the Alderaanian muttered thoughtfully, "especially since I wouldn't want to spend money without a clear calculation. After all, what exactly did we agree on? I'm buying scientific equipment? Or am I helping with the ship, supplies, in some way? When does this need to be done? What's our route? I understand that the target planet is covered in ice. We're not going straight to it?"
"We're flying to Bothawui," the counter decided to be concise, "I don't know if it's immediately or not, that will be discussed with the navigator. There we will prepare for the expedition itself and fly to the destination planet via the Hylandian route. With short stops for refueling. As for your money - look for and acquire equipment. So, and you need to be accommodated..."
"Then we'll wait for Bothawui. I don't see the point in buying equipment in advance. And Bothawui, if I remember correctly, is a sufficiently developed planet to get everything you need there."
"Bothawui is the capital of the sector," Rick nodded, "you can get everything there. Or almost everything. If you have the means. Take an empty cabin. As soon as the crew is on board, and I decide where we're going, the ship will leave Bakrana."
"Alright," the Alderaanian replied. "Yes, one more thing. About that Rakatan artifact. I've bought some reference books, and I'd like to study it further."
"When you're settled, I'll give it to you, and another manuscript, I'm interested to hear your opinion," Rick promised, remembering the notebook, "but first, find yourself a place to stay."
"Which cabin is free? So I don't have to check by trial and error."
"I wish I knew..." the guy drawled, then thought and replied, "the second deck of the middle deck is practically unoccupied, choose a cabin to your liking."
"Good," the Alderaanian nodded.
Grabbing his bags, he headed for the second deck. There, by trial and error, he found a cabin with an unlocked door that looked uninhabited. And moved in.
Rick headed to the cockpit. He needed to talk to Nick and decide on their route.