It wasn't far from the cockpit to Shai's cabin, and even less if you ran. The doctor carefully opened the door and approached the sleeping woman. The Arkonian was sleeping, perhaps not very peacefully, but sleeping. Sher, trying not to make noise, tried to get what might be needed from the case.
"Anything might be useful when a girl is in an affective state," without thinking long, Sher grabbed the entire case and disappeared behind the door. From a distance, she saw the frightened Lethan. But seeing the captain, whose legs could no longer hold him, she herself got scared and rushed to him.
Sher, running up, managed to catch Rick as he began to fall and turned to the crying, cowering girl.
"Veymi, don't worry, I'm a doctor," Sher said quietly and quickly. "The captain is a little overtired, he needs to be put to bed. Won't you help me?" her voice was soft and calm. She could have managed on her own, but she didn't want the girl to disappear again in such a state. And it was also a good way to shift her consciousness from emotional experiences to physical actions.
"Veymi, please, Rick needs our help," the doctor's gray eyes looked at the girl pleadingly and warmly.
Rick, in this situation, could only smile apologetically.
What a captain...
Sobbing, the Lethan rushed to help her. It seemed that at some point she had to transport drunk owners to bed at least, she managed to cope with it. With the women's help, Rick finally ended up where he should have gone immediately: in his own bed.
"He had a seizure, didn't he?" she finally asked the doctor. "And I thought..."
"Convulsions," Sher nodded. "He could have injured himself. You know, in such a state, you don't feel pain when you hit something. That's why they restrained him from doing so, and to give me time to give him the injection." the doctor looked at the girl with radiant eyes. "Thank you for your help, Veymi. How are you feeling yourself?"
During this conversation, Sher, sitting on the edge of the captain's bed, freed his arm from his clothes and, after passing an antiseptic over it, pulled the skin on his forearm and pressed the injector to it. A little tonic for the cardiovascular and respiratory system wouldn't hurt the captain.
"You'll feel better now, cap."
Rick himself was currently playing the role of a smart dog. He understood everything, but said nothing.
"I'm fine," the Lethan shook her lekku, sitting on the floor next to the bed I was just very scared. Will he get better?"
"He's not sick, Weymi," the doctor hurried to reassure the girl, "Cap just overexerted himself... let's say," Sher gave Rik a meaningful look. "But he'll be fine. I'll give him some vitamins with glucose now, and let him rest. And it would be wonderful, Weymi, if you sat with him. If you don't have other plans, of course."
Sher pressed a napkin to the injection site and added:
"Just not on the floor, Weymi, please, it's cold after all."
Rik smiled, gathering his strength again, and began to speak quietly:
"Weymi, it seemed to me," he tried to smile, "or did you have a blaster in your hand?"
The Twi'lek pressed her lekku back, flinched, and became very small and unnoticeable.
"I-I did," she stammered out.
"Well done," his voice sounded joyful, "sit here."
He patted the empty spot on the bed.
Sher stood up and looked around for a disposal unit to get rid of the used injectors. She found it closer to the exit of the cabin.
"I'd still like you to rest," she sighed, returning. "How are you feeling, Rik?"
Weymi, raising the tips of her lekku in surprise, timidly got up and settled next to the captain. Crossing her legs, she sat at his feet so as not to disturb the doctor.
"It's bad in the front, even worse in the back, I'm definitely sitting in a cold puddle," the captain smiled wryly, "Sher, I'm not thinking straight. Otherwise, I'm fine. It's hard to concentrate and act. Bus... Call Kailas here, on the ship's comm."
"No need to call, I'm already here," the pilot appeared in the doorway with a mug in his hand. "Larius sent me to bring this poison. I assumed she loved you, but this much..."
"It's our doctor who loves me so much," he smiled, he really felt better after the injections, "I need you to go with her to get some kind of device."
Sher listened very carefully to the captain, even to everything he said about the cold puddle. The captain described his problem so clearly that she didn't need to ask clarifying questions. And, most importantly, the drug for it was in the case. In Rik's words, a name flashed by that was unknown to her. Another crew member? But the fleeting thought was dismissed by her consciousness as one that should not be dwelled upon. And only when, opening the case, she heard the voice of Nick, or rather felt his presence by the warmth inside, did she turn around in surprise at the person who responded to that name.
"Is ordering delivery not an option? Or is the device unique and the only one of its kind?" the pilot immediately clarified, walking into the cabin and pretending not to have heard Rik's slip of the tongue. He handed the mug to the Twi'lek, returned to the door, and picked up the blaster from the floor. "A signal flare from the emergency kit... Who was planning to send distress signals here?"
"I decided to clean up, I found it under the bed," Rik nodded towards Sher. "I didn't say that, Sher did. I only know about the bacta-tank in medical equipment."
The girl's black pupils widened in surprise... "Kailas?" And Sher hastily turned away, taking out an ampoule of a fast-acting nootropic of the latest generation.
She didn't hear any name, she told herself, aiming for the blue vein on the captain's elbow.
"No, Nick," Sher replied to the pilot's question, injecting the opalescent liquid intravenously. Strangely, even her own voice betrayed her. She had never spoken to anyone in such a voice.
"It's not a unique device. But it's mine, and Shay needs it," she cast a brief glance at Nick.
The girl closed the micro-trauma from the needle with a hemostatic wipe and held it with her finger.
"Rik, I would strongly advise no one to leave the ship," the pilot shook his gray head. "There are orders for you. Any of us could be used to get to you. What's left that Jiro gave me back should be enough for the equipment."
"Cap, but if I fly alone, and to my partner, it shouldn't attract attention to me," Sher said calmly, tucking a fluffy strand of hair back. "I'm almost local, I'm a familiar face. Who knows where a doctor might fly? And Orri still has me on vacation, if they checked," she added and looked at the pilot.
"Sher, we have two bodies and two who have just recovered, if any mercenary gets you..." Rik made a sour face, "then something sad might happen. I personally exposed the ship. We don't have another one. Besides, there could have been witnesses to our shootout in that alley... Kailas is right."
He thought for a few seconds and then burst into another monologue:
"I propose a compromise. I'll give you the mediator's number, and you'll arrange with him and your Orri. And they'll deliver the device here. It's cheaper than a new device, and safer than someone leaving. Besides, you can buy other things through Fly too. And get a discount through me."
"I think that's the best way out, cap," Sher agreed, almost without thinking. True, a worm of doubt was still gnawing at her a little. It's unknown how Orri will behave with the mediator... He might get stubborn... She would have simply presented him with the facts and herself. And Orri wouldn't have been able to get away with it. But Sher didn't intend to tell the captain that.
Nick is right. The device isn't worth the risk. And, after all, it can be ordered.
"I'll talk to Orri," she nodded.
Weymi sniffed the contents of the mug and took a small sip. She did it without thinking – it was a completely habitual action. When Sher released the captain's hand, the Twi'lek helped him drink the brought broth.
"That's the right choice," the pilot nodded. The tension ringing in the Force was slowly fading.
The drink wasn't vintage wine, but it was drinkable. Rik typed a few commands on the datapad lying nearby and put it in front of Sher.
"This is Karvo's contact, he's a Toydarian."
"Okay, cap... Thanks. Can I then order him another device for transcranial electrostimulation?" she asked, hesitantly taking the comlink from the captain's hands. She really didn't want to talk to Orri in front of everyone. Sher didn't know yet how her partner would react to the fact that she was no longer going to work with him. It would be better to talk to him elsewhere. Besides, staying in these clothes was both uncomfortable and...
"Rik, in ten minutes at the latest, the drug will take effect. Shay is asleep," she paused for a moment, but decided it wasn't time for revelations yet. "I'd like to take advantage of the break to change and make a call. Do you know which cabin my bag was taken to?" she asked, trying not to take her eyes off the captain. Especially not to turn around.
"Nick was in charge of loading, I think," Rik shrugged, indicating he didn't know the answer, "he's responsible for that. For everything else, I give my consent. We have no other business anyway. Not with the crew in this condition."
"I took your things to the cabin next to mine," the pilot responded quietly. "If no one objects..."
She had to turn around after all. And immediately a choice arose – in which of the pilot's green eyes to drown... Her answer to Nick was a nod. She couldn't say anything anyway.
"Cap," she addressed Rik, gathering her strength. "I'll be back now... And for now, you're in good hands," she smiled at the Twi'lek and stood up. "Weymi, are you feeling well right now?"
In response to Nick's words, Rik just smiled meaningfully, slowly beginning his demilitarization. A dozen seconds later, two blasters and a vibroblade lay on the bed next to Weymi.
"Put them away in the nightstand, please."
The Twi'lek's fingers trembled. She sighed with relief when she heard that she hadn't grabbed a real pistol after all. But now she had to take a weapon. Not because she was carrying out the orders of a dead owner, as she thought last time. But because she couldn't disobey.
Pale with horror, Weymi slid off the bed and with two fingers took the nearest blaster by the handle.
"I have a feeling she's not feeling very well..." the pilot's gaze turned cold.
Weymi froze.
"Put it down," Rik looked at the girl, his voice devoid of any hint of displeasure, on the contrary, it was said with warmth, "I'll put it away myself. Nick..."
He looked at the pilot:
"Escort Sher, then return to your old assignment, report on its completion. Bus, go to the cockpit, coordinate the team's actions if necessary."
From the not entirely commanding tone, it was easy to understand that the guy was rather asking to be left alone with the Twi'lek than actually giving orders.
Sher looked at the girl and, shaking her head, took out a capsule she had prepared for her earlier.
"I'll still leave you a sedative, Weymi," she said, placing the medicine on the nightstand. "It's a prolonged-release drug, it works immediately and for twelve hours by galactic standard time. And it works gently."
And she left the captain's cabin, holding an intercom in her hands. Apparently, the captain was getting better.
"Th-thank you," the Twi'lek thanked her belatedly with a stutter as the door closed behind her and pulled her hand away from the captain's small arsenal.
Nick slipped out after her like a silent shadow, pointing to the door down the corridor.
"I'm here. Your room is next door, Sher... If you need anything, call me."
There was no hint of coldness in his gaze now.
"Thank you, Nick," Sher's radiant gaze touched the pilot's face and lingered on it for a few moments. "Well, and you... You can also call me if anything..." and the girl quickly stepped towards her cabin before any reason to linger came to mind.
For a few seconds, the pilot watched her go, torn between the assignment and the desire to follow, then sharply turned away and headed to carry out the captain's orders.
When they left, Rik looked at Weymi and smiled apologetically.
"Sorry, I forgot how you feel about blasters," he said.
Her lekku twitched uncertainly. She wasn't going to be tortured for touching a weapon. Moreover, she was apologized to – something completely unthinkable. She didn't know how to react, and for safety's sake, she reminded him of her transgression:
"I left the cockpit without permission... It seemed to me something had happened to you, judging by the sounds from the cabin..."
"Curiosity is not a vice," he paused, thinking, but decided to finish the sentence, "but it's quite a scoundrel. Sometimes. It's okay, the sounds were indeed... unexpected."
Weymi nodded silently, accepting this absolution of her sins.
"Do you need anything?" she asked cautiously.
"Yeah, but the doctor will twist your head off for it, so first, put the flare gun back."
It remained lying on the table, near the chair.
After a slight hesitation, the girl nodded, carefully took the signal flare from the table, and slipped out the door.
Weymi returned about ten minutes later. She peeked into the cabin, saw the sleeping captain, and quietly crept to the chair, where she curled up with her legs tucked under her, covered herself with her lekku, and pulled up the collar of her jacket. She tried to read, but her gaze, darting across the lines of text, was scattered.
Rik woke up as soon as the Twi'lek entered the room, but it took him a while to fully come to his senses from his semi-drowsiness.
"Are you alright?" he said quietly.
Her lekku twitched, rising like alert puppy ears. Weymi looked up at him.
"Probably," she answered uncertainly. "I feel strange. But I can't say I feel bad."
Rik looked at the girl with surprise.
"Describe it," he asked after a pause.
Weymi hesitated. It was clear that she was struggling to find words to explain what she herself didn't fully understand.
"Well, no one has ever apologized to me before," she finally said with an expression as if she had to convince the captain that she had actually seen a flying bantha. "I ran away from the cockpit today, I took a weapon, and you're apologizing as if you were to blame, not me."
"The culprit of the incident is still me," Rik smiled, "why should I scold you for, in general terms, correct behavior? But why did you end up in my cabin? You should have stayed in the escape pod. It's safer there."
Her round eyes widened in surprise.
"But you told me to take care of the gem," she reminded him quietly. "It's here, in the cabin. And the capsule is easier to open... probably... I didn't think about it," the girl confessed. "I was very scared."
"No wonder," he picked up the blaster. It had become so clear in his head after Sher's injection that he could remember the number and cross-section of the wire leading to the lighting fixtures in his cabin, "without preparation, without any skills. I would have been scared too. I would have been horrified. Well... You will have to apologize, though, a little later. To Bus. You yelled at him for no reason."
At this time, he was slowly unfastening the power cell and gas cartridge from the blaster.
"I'll apologize," Weymi immediately replied with obvious relief. At least something in her world, turned upside down in the last day, had gained some certainty. A slave yelling at a free person with impunity – that's more incredible than a flying bantha. An apology is not a punishment to ponder, but they might change their minds, God forbid...
She watched Rik's movements with wary curiosity. Before her eyes, a terrible object, the touch of which had threatened her with torment her entire conscious life, was turning into a set of parts.
"That's good," he placed the base of the blaster in front of the girl. "I had an idea. Tell me, is it not scary or dangerous to pick up a flare gun? Why?"
"It's scary," the girl shook her head. "But I didn't have time to think then. I remembered that there should be something in the emergency kit, and I ran... I thought it was a pistol – it looks like one... And I've seen how they shoot... from others. But then that gray-haired man said it wasn't a weapon, so there was nothing to be afraid of."
"Not a weapon," Rik agreed, "and that gray-haired man is called Nick. His full name is either Nicholas or Nicolaus, I don't remember."
Then he picked up the blaster again.
"So. A weapon. What do you think, is there a weapon in this room?" he looked at the girl with undisguised interest.
"Of course, there is," the Twi'lek answered confidently, pointing to his hands.
"For you, yes, for me," he couldn't resist pausing, "no. We make any object a weapon ourselves, any object. When we start using it... for specific purposes. A blaster for me is a tool for influence, protection. Just like a flare gun is a tool for signaling. I can use both as weapons, but that doesn't make them weapons."
He looked at the girl again, waiting to see what reaction this lecture would provoke.
The Twi'lek shook her head.
"But a blaster doesn't stop being a weapon if you start hammering nails with it!" she exclaimed. "You can shoot from it, you can kill with it – so it's a weapon! It's made to kill with!"
The girl faltered, realizing she was arguing with her own master.
"A misconception," he smiled, "it's made for protection. You don't necessarily have to kill with it. Besides, you grabbed the flare gun to protect yourself. Not to shoot the whole crew with one charge."
"I hoped they wouldn't break down the door, and I wouldn't have to shoot," her lekku drooped guiltily. "But I still don't understand why a weapon is not a weapon."
"A blaster is not a weapon as long as you follow a set of rules," he placed it in front of the girl, "but it all comes down to one thing: don't shoot those who don't deserve it."