The Force responded with a whole rainbow of feelings to the touch of his fingers. It was simply his fingers, his touch, to which her consciousness responded with a bright burst of tenderness and love. She unexpectedly raised her head and brushed aside the hair that had fallen into her face in disarray.
"Nick, you've simply revived me, thank you very much. It's..." she searched for words to express her feelings. "Indescribable... But please, rest yourself. This bunk isn't as wide as yours in 'The Haven,' but there's enough space to fall asleep together. And anyway, now it's my turn to guard your sleep."
"Well, I was just getting into the groove," the navigator said with disappointment, not hurrying to fulfill her request. He wanted to take advantage of this offer. He really wanted to... But no less he wanted to feel how an invisible string responded to every touch, and for the first time in his life, regret that he wasn't a musician. What music could they create together... "The Cap slept half the day, let him guard us now," Nick joked, removing his fingers from her tender neck and starting to untangle the strands of tangled hair. "We need to braid it, otherwise it won't be combed out later."
"Nick, why do I need braids tomorrow if you're leaving now?" she said quietly. "I can feel your disappointment. I wanted you to rest too... Because I felt so good that only the realization that you were tired could make me interrupt you..." her eyes were not visible from behind the hair covering her face, but her voice betrayed strong emotion.
"I'm leaving?" the navigator asked in surprise, braiding the unraveled hair into a not-so-neat, but still a braid. "Why all of a sudden? I'm invited to sleep in such company, and I'm going somewhere?! Never... Don't fidget, or it'll turn out crooked. I'll finish now and rest. We'll rest," he corrected himself, securing the result of his labor in the simplest way: tying the end of the braid in a knot. "I'm so thin that you won't even notice me here."
"Nick, I can't not notice you, you're wonderful," Sher said quite seriously, smiling. "Look, you even managed my mane, and braided it," she said, touching her new hairstyle. "Can you braid me every day? And which side are you used to sleeping on?" she asked, moving aside and giving him space. However, the last was said to avoid silence and hide a slight embarrassment. Sleeping together on war, where fatigue would catch you, is still somewhat different from when fatigue catches you with someone your heart...
"I might fall through the crack if I sleep by the wall," the navigator chuckled, quite pleased with the result. He wasn't going to explain that he intended to position himself on the edge, because it was not the most reliable, but still a defense. "So you sleep by the wall..."
He stretched out on the bunk, stretched, warming up his muscles, and now very much resembling the mercenary - she did it in a very similar way. Then he turned on his side, pulling Sher closer and burying his face in her hair.
The smell...
A hungry darkness stirred inside and froze again. There was no food for it here.
"I won't fall asleep," Sher thought with resignation, burying herself in his chest and sighing, remembering how he guarded her sleep in 'The Haven.' How calm she felt with him then, like a little Pole on Coruscant. But now Nick was very, very close. She felt his warmth. His tenderness... Sher gently hugged him, and soon her uneven, faltering breathing became quiet and calm. But she didn't let go of his hands.
The navigator didn't fall asleep quickly. The warmth of the girl sleeping in his arms simultaneously unsettled him and gave him a sense of support. Perhaps the only support in this changed world.
It was... peaceful. Nothing in common with what had been his life for so long. Touches that carried no threat. Words in which there was no need to look for hidden meaning. Sometimes he had to translate them for himself - the habit of seeing a catch in everything hindered him greatly. But...
Everything was not so. Everything was different than before. Nearby was a whole world, which he had so reliably forgotten - and now this world was breathing quietly, trustingly pressed against him...
It was so scary to break the rhythm of this breathing, as if life or death of the universe depended on it. No less. No less.
"Take all..." Nick remembered, and his hard lips, which had forgotten what a sincere smile was, moved, repeating these words.
Only now it wasn't a joke.
Sher woke up suddenly. Either from the heart suddenly beating like a trapped bird in her chest, or from a shadow, some strange anxiety, flashing through the haze of sleep. It was chilly, as if a door had been forgotten to be closed somewhere, and a draft was blowing out the warmth...
"Nick?" she whispered anxiously, instinctively pressing closer to him and hugging him even more tenderly, "Why aren't you sleeping? Shall I tell you something, like a fairy tale?"
"Shh..." the navigator replied, laying her head on his shoulder. "I was thinking... I'm already falling asleep... Sleep, my joy..."
"Finally..."
"You'll get tired... It's uncomfortable for you," she objected sleepily, but she no longer had the strength to move her head from his shoulder. She was falling asleep, managing to move her lips, on which remained an unsaid sigh: "And you... my good one..."
Sher had already fallen asleep, and Nick was also starting to doze off when he felt a vague anxiety. Something was about to happen. Something threatened the ship.
It threatened the woman, who had trustingly fallen asleep on his shoulder.
The tormented, dying beast, the underside of the soul of everyone who touched the Darkness, bared its teeth. He understood this. This was accessible to him. And he had gained enough strength in these days to...
"If you let yourself go completely, you'll die..."
The beast didn't care. Nick did. He had someone to stay alive for.
Gently lifting Sher's head, the navigator freed his shoulder and carefully laid the sleeping woman on the pillow. He managed to sit up when he was touched in the Force.
"Coming."
With a barely audible hiss, the door closed behind him.
Lovers sleep soundly, because their heightened senses, catching everything concerning the most precious person, are only dozing. Intuition never sleeps. Military doctors can wake up from the changed breathing of a severely wounded patient. As for the loving doctor... She opened her eyes when the door closed. And if it hadn't closed before her eyes, everything that had happened before might have seemed like a dream. Because it was too good to be true... Or to last long? The vague anxiety that hung over her sleep became more distinct... He left. Something happened.
Sher slipped her feet into her army boots, hung her blaster on her belt. Even in these movements, after the massage, there was flexibility and lightness. And there was something else, said to her by Nick when she was falling asleep, something priceless... But now even that receded before the anxious excitement.
Sher cautiously stepped into the corridor. Straight ahead, in the cockpit, voices could be heard.
In the cockpit, the guy immediately began his usual pre-flight preparations. Usual only in theory, because the Case was five times larger than the Eye... But in general, the systems were similar.
"In twenty, twenty-five minutes, a car will come for me. To take me to Fly. I'm not sure if they'll take me to him. Although I see no point in changing the ambush site... So. I'll get in the car. And by the time I arrive at his office, you'll fly out on the ship and pick me up. Then we'll head to the Cosmogarage. It's simple. Now I'm waiting for criticism."
"Where's the guarantee that the car will take you anywhere?" Larius asked from the doorway. "The kid said the rats are scattering. That means they were warned or a rumor went around that there would be shooting here. Where's the guarantee that the car will go specifically to the office, and you won't be strangled on the way?"
"And we'll politely ask the car to drive to the hangar," Rick checked the pressure in the systems, "and process the driver and guards, if there are any."
The shamans exchanged glances.
"This is not a plan," Larius sighed, sitting in the adjacent chair. "No offense, Rick, this can't be called a plan. Why are you going there?"
"I don't want to lose an intermediary," Rick said, not offended at all, "besides, if we trap the trap, the group will be reduced. And that's a definite plus."
"If you end up with your neck broken, it won't help Fly at all," the Kushiban objected. "And that's a definite minus."
"You can't argue with that," Rick nodded, "I'm open to suggestions."
"First, we need to figure out if it's one group or two that have latched onto you," the alien mused.
"One would act more cohesively," Larius replied. "I think three. One took Fly, the second Goh. And the third is possibly planning an attack..."
"When did I manage to cross so many people?" the counter asked in surprise. "But that still doesn't explain what's best to do in this situation."
"Did you forget about the orders on yourself?" the Kushiban inquired. "You're a valuable prize, no one will just sit around and wait for someone else to get you."
"If the vagrants are scattering, the attack will be soon," Larius again pulled a needle from her sleeve and twirled it in her fingers. "We have enough food for Shai for a couple of flights, we can forget about Goh's cargo. What remains is the one who contacted Fly... Can you track where the response came from?"
The guy thought for a few moments...
"I called Fly's comlink. He asked me to come to the office. I can try to hack the local network and find out which communication node connected me to him, that will narrow down the search area to a couple of blocks," he finally said.
"Then do it," the mercenary advised. "And then call again and say that you're having trouble here, and you might be delayed. If they took him to get to you, they'll come."
"Uh-huh, only Fly might be on his way to his ancestors by then," Rick objected, moving to the captain's chair and bringing up a diagram of the local communication network on the holo-screen.
"He might already be dead," Larius replied calmly. "And they'll surely kill him as soon as they take you. Unlike you, they don't need him..."
Rick didn't answer, busy figuring out who was more thorough with the local firewall. Muha could already be dead, that was true. Just as it was true that he could be held hostage until they got him. As soon as the security wall gave way, he sent a request to the main network search engine and looked at the combatant.
"If the escort ship they sent us disappears, it will buy us extra time," he threw out.
"It will disappear," Larrius nodded, rising from her chair. "Such a move, nobody follows the rules... Trouble just."
The search indicated that Muha had not been communicating from his office at all. Moreover, at the time of the conversation, he was in the territory of the very wasteland where Larrius had avenged her brother.
"Good hint," Rick estimated the capabilities of the communication systems on the smugglers' moon, and then began to type another request. Time was of the essence now. This meant it was better to find out where Karvo was right now. Having accessed the network subsystem, he first assigned himself administrator privileges, and then sent a request to the nearest towers. If desired, a working comm could be triangulated with the necessary access, which is what he was doing now.
Muha was in the same place, if the search results were to be believed. Or at least, his commlink was.
"Most likely, Muha was taken by Troy's people..." Rick mused. These people understood no punishment other than death. "I wonder how many of them are there... Do you have any ideas on how best to proceed in this situation? Given that we need the Toydarian alive."
"Wait for the attack," Bus moved to the back of Rick's chair, folding his front paws on the captain's head. "And call Muha. If Troy's people show up, take prisoners, exchange them for Muha. Or fly there right now and take out the whole group."
Diving into the Force, Rick called Nick to the cockpit. He needed all the group's combatants. And then he thought.
"I shouldn't have left Troy's body there," he said reproachfully to himself. "I'm all for taking out the whole group. We have good shields and a strong hull. Two side guns, if they don't have a tank... Then they have nothing to oppose us with."
"Did they contact us?" the navigator walked to his new workstation, nodded at the Kushiban. Bus wagged his tail in response.
"We are right in the epicenter of attention," the guy estimated the options, "if we fly out now, it will take about forty minutes to arrive, we can split up, part of us will fly in under the cover of freight on a ship and quietly land on the outskirts. Deliver the proposal and offer yours."
"And can we first find out who we are at war with, what forces the enemy has, and what we have right now?" Nick turned to him with his chair. "And where is Larrius?"
"She went to shoot down the ship," Bus explained.
Rick briefly recounted what had happened to the summoned navigator, simultaneously displaying the image from the control of both guns, thought for a moment, and said:
"Doc, are you shy about coming in?" he said in a thoughtful voice after his story.
Sher detached herself from the wall and stepped into the bridge.
"I was supposed to give you an injection, Rick, but you seem to be having an important meeting... I didn't dare to interrupt," she explained her waiting position near the cockpit. "Did something happen?" she asked calmly, but her expressive eyes betrayed her concern.
Nick's chair turned a little more - now all three and the projection were in view.
"Are you going to put the strike team in, launch, and hit the wasteland?" he clarified, nodding at Sher with clear regret - after all, he had woken her up... "Muha will die too. Besides, it could be a trap. You go in there, and you'll get a missile in the side. A ship is a target that's hard to miss..."
"Offer your solution to the problem," Rick countered. As a smuggler, he was not familiar with force actions. More precisely, not familiar at all. "Sher, there's really no time for this now."
"I understand," the girl replied briefly, but she wasn't going to leave. She needed to know the degree of danger to the crew and prepare for this situation as a doctor. She tried to hide her own worries and anxiety deep inside.
Nick drummed his fingers on the armrest. He was in a predicament. To act according to the option that seemed optimal to him – to give himself away completely, that there was someone in the crew familiar with the methods of special services. Attention, completely unnecessary for Rick's group. Dangerous attention... Something more like the work of a daring, unpredictable, and uniquely thinking person would be better. It would look more like a stroke of luck.
"I would fly out in a ship," he said finally. "With Larrius. A speeder is a smaller and more mobile target. It's harder to shoot down, especially if a gifted person is at the wheel... Two gifted people are already a strike group. You can come with us, but then the Duro will have to sit at the helm of 'The Chance'. If we go at acceleration - we'll have time to check if Muha is there, take him and leave before they can aim at us. After that, we can hit the wasteland."
"Sher, take a blaster, find Weymi, and go to Shay's cabin," Rick paused for a moment, "until further notice. And prepare a first-aid kit."
Sher nodded silently at Rick, but hesitated to carry out the order.
"When?" she asked just as briefly as before, without looking up at anyone.
It was necessary to decide what to do with Nick's proposal. What he proposed was not very different from his plan. Except that he had swapped places with him.
"Are you sure you won't be taken down at an inconvenient moment?" he said with apprehension.
"Taken down?" Nick repeated, peeking out. Rick felt a gust of hungry, predatory anticipation. "I won't be. Not this time... I won't use anything but acceleration."
"And if I do - two stun charges will take down even a forced one..."
"But who are you going to put on the turrets if the women hide?"
"Jethro knows about the ship's guns, and besides, we still have Bus," Rick looked first at Nick, then at Sher, "we have a sick person who needs care, and a girl who panics at the thought of harming someone. I need someone I can be sure will look after them and calm them down if anything happens."
"Cap, I understand you. I'm a doctor. Everyone should do their own job. But still, I'm a lieutenant, sir. And I think I can handle the turrets," Sher said very clearly, as if addressing her imperial command. A chill ran through her, as if an ampoule of chloroethyl had burst and frozen all the pain points of her soul.
"Sher, you are not a lieutenant, and I am not a sir, and I have no one else to look after the Arkonian and Weymi, you are needed there," Rick said calmly, plotting the course of 'The Chance' to the required sector.
"Can Jethro pilot and shoot at the same time?" the navigator asked directly.
"I'll stay here," the counter said briefly.
Diving into the Force, he looked for the remaining inhabitants of the ship.
"Jethro is wandering around the third deck, Weymi is in the mess hall on the second," he noted, "Sher, right now I need a doctor and a psychologist, not a gunner."
To say, as usual: "Okay, cap," Sher couldn't force herself. Perhaps it was right from Rick's point of view. Perhaps it was right at all. But to sit on the sidelines, not participating, not knowing what was happening, when...
"Yes, sir," Sher said in an emotionless voice and looked at Nick. "I'll prepare the first-aid kit now," she added quietly.
Rick shook his head, but he wasn't going to explain or talk to Sher now. Not even in front of Nick. To the latter, he turned:
"We need to warm up the speeder's engine, you'll take off when I lift the ship into the air, let it look plausible. Bus, will you stay here? Or go with them?"
"With them," the Kushiban replied briefly and jumped off the chair. As it turned out, by "them" he meant exclusively Sher and company.
Nick mentally touched the girl: a promise. Without details or nuances of feeling. There was no time for them now.
"At the first opportunity, we'll need to get heavy assault weapons," the navigator said, leaving the cockpit, lingering just long enough to kiss the doctor.