The girl looked away from Nick, but froze in place, stunned by the spectacle that opened before her. The remains of the ship, like the spine of some creature, gnawed by time and vultures... in the prickly light of the stars, in the murky haze of reflected moonlight. A barely audible sigh escaped her.
"You know, it's a beauty that's frightening in its hopelessness..." she said quietly, not taking her eyes off the majestic picture of decay.
"For some reason, I just remembered an artist. He probably would have painted something like this... If he hadn't died. I don't even know how one can create such canvases. It always seemed to me that it was beyond human capabilities... They turned the mind upside down," she sighed and looked at Nick. "Tamir Martye, you must have heard of him."
A name from another life. Which was no more. It burned down... Long, dry fingers lay motionless on the control panel.
"I don't think so," Nick heard his own voice. "Tamir always painted only nature. People. Animals. Stars and planets. But never - remains..."
His voice was calm, as if he were talking about something completely ordinary. Two people are sitting and discussing art. Why not?
"So, the picture I saw in childhood made too strong an impression on me," Sher said thoughtfully, sinking into the neighboring chair. "The dead planet, remember? When I was studying in the art studio," she smiled sadly and gently in a peculiar way. "I always followed his exhibitions, I really wanted to see him up close. But then there was the Academy and the war. And he died..."
Sher threw her braid back, as if distant memories, the events of which seemed to have just been a dream, and looked at Nick with a tenderness that illuminated the depth of her gray eyes.
"But every day I become more afraid of the thought that I could have left my sickbed half an hour earlier. And we would never have met..."
"But we did meet?" the navigator turned his head to her. "Why think about what would have been? We have what we have."
"I have a rich imagination," she smiled, glancing in his direction. "Well, you understand - parallel worlds that are separated by... let's say, just half an hour... And among them there are those where we never met. And you don't even suspect my existence, and I - yours..." The last words came out somewhat sadly.
"I think in such a world I'm such a rare idiot that it's not even worth regretting," Nick returned to the controls, adjusting the course. It was time to give a new acceleration impulse. "So let me envy me here, and I'm personally satisfied with everything."
"Well, almost everything..."
"Oh no-o-o, I don't believe you," she laughed, shaking her light head. "In any world, you're just as handsome, just as amazing a pilot," she climbed onto the chair with her legs, rested her chin on her knees, hugged them with her arms, and didn't take her eyes off Nick, "just as strong, courageous. And you strive to protect... And..." But her "and" remained unfinished. Instead, she suddenly, worriedly, asked:
"And how are the guys now?"
"In the hold, preparing for launch," the navigator didn't need to check the instruments, he didn't even look at them. "We'll enter the atmosphere, release them, and hide again. Then we'll pick them up."
Sher nodded and fell silent, looking at the gleam of myriad stars and the twinkle of just as many lights on the surface of the Moon. She didn't want to distract Nick with conversation. It was enough that he was near, and that he felt everything. He would feel it before you crept up to kiss him... Gifted by the universe with such superpowers that an ordinary person wouldn't even dream of them... And there are more than half of them on the crew? Gifted... And she, an ordinary person among them. Can she do anything?
Sher knew the answer.
She looked at the unblinking stars and no longer saw them. Too many impressions. Everything slowly spun before her eyes in some kind of viscous haze. Unfamiliar-familiar images, desert landscapes of dead planets superimposed on the green of trees, reflected in the glare of water, and a face so infinitely dear down to every wrinkle strangely obscured the holographic image of the famous artist...
Sher opened her eyes, casting a embarrassed glance at the neighboring chair. "Happy Chance" continued to glide slowly among the debris, and she, who had never seen space from a cockpit, gasped at the sight. Sher looked at the navigator again, at his thin hands on the control panel, at the light of Nar Shaddaa reaching the stars, and quickly dropped her long legs from the seat. Hot sparks flashed in the depths of her gray eyes...
"I really want to take the controls," she blurted out, breathing warmly in his direction.
"On the way back - definitely..."
The ship was entering the atmosphere. The stars were covered with a light haze. Here you could believe that the sky over Nar Shaddaa was clear...
Nick touched the transmitter.
"Ready?"
He listened to the answer, leveled the flight, heading along the blinking transport stream below.
"Now..." a button for opening the hold clicked. The security systems tried to object, but were forced to obey and release the speeder into the night sky.
Rick went into the hold to the aero-speeder in his best suit. A heavy blaster rested on his hip, secured in the Corellian style, his hair was neatly gathered into a ponytail, and even his beard was combed. The second tool he decided to take with him was Troy's trophy knife. Everything else was neatly packed in the nightstand in his cabin.
Jethro was in no hurry. But when he appeared, even the most uninitiated eye could not fail to recognize a face engaged in something very illegal. The pirate managed to pick his clothes, weapons, and expression so well that the same director Yiksvall Sin'Arts would have sold his Bothan soul to all the cosmic demons at once for one opportunity to get a Durog in such a state on the set of a holo-action movie. The thin line between things that were unremarkable individually but very eloquent as a set, kitsch, and slight pretense was maintained impeccably.
By this time, the engines had fired once, giving the ship an impulse in the right direction, and fell silent again: the navigator did not intend to reveal his hiding place to a random observer or a too vigilant scout. "Happy Chance" drifted towards the faintly shimmering disk of Nar Shaddaa's night side.
Rick himself calculated the trajectory of atmospheric entry, so he wasn't worried, especially since one of the best pilots he knew was at the helm of his ship.
"Loading up," he threw at the Durog and sat in the driver's seat, immediately starting the engine. The window of opportunity for atmospheric exit in an aero-speeder with the possibility of not burning out the repulsors and accelerators was quite small, - those who invited us might form the wrong opinion...
The last was said with a quick, sideways glance at Jethro.
"We'll see what opinion they form," the Durog replied carelessly, plopping down next to him and buckling up with special care. "I've always wanted to check if the 'Sun' is really as good as they say."
"I've never had that desire," Rick honestly replied, preparing to take the ship out of the hold. He sent a readiness signal to Nick and continued the conversation with Jethro, "I just hope they didn't have any spare falien for this planet."
"I don't know if they have spare faliens," the pilot chuckled. "But they definitely don't have any spare Quint."
The ship shuddered again - Nick was starting the acceleration.
Rick smirked. Quint was very brazen, skilled, and, unusually for a pirate, noble. But no matter how he was, he couldn't compete with the shadow empire revived by Xizor. And the Durog couldn't help but understand this.
The hum of the engines changed its tone - the transport was entering the atmosphere. A minute later, the hangar door began to open - "Chance" reached the required altitude above the surface and was preparing to drop the machine. Now the speeder and the ship were moving at the same speed relative to the "ground" of Nar Shaddaa. After separation, everything will change...
"Ready?" a quiet voice sounded from the earpiece.
"Always ready," the guy replied routinely, taking hold of the steering wheel of the car. Touching the technology felt pleasant, and self-confidence settled in his mind. He is not alone, as long as he has the steering wheel in his hands, no matter what: an aero-speeder, a freighter, a courier, or a fighter, as long as he has a ship and the ability to fly, he is not alone.
Everything happened simultaneously: the anticipation became almost oppressive, Jethro exhaled: "Let's go!" - and the hold began to open. A gap shimmering with transport lines appeared, which quickly began to expand, allowing the speeder to leave the ship.
Remotely releasing the car from the magnetic clamps, Rick rose slightly above the hold floor, slightly increasing power, and the next moment, when the opening allowed, he carefully shot the machine out of the ship, immediately accelerating, and making a turn to separate from the ship.
Simultaneously, "Happy Chance" slowed down, allowing the machine to go off course, closed the hold, and began a rapid ascent back into orbit.
The machine began to descend, gradually approaching the planet's regular routes.
Sher sat motionless, clutching the seat with her hands, and looking at the blinking river of colored lights far ahead.
"Good luck, guys," her lips moved silently.
Nick had no time for sentimentality - he was taking "Happy Chance" out of the atmosphere back into orbit. No longer to where he had been hiding before - the hiding place could be tracked, at least by the received message. As soon as the ship was outside the airspace, the world around went dark and a few seconds later reappeared - in complete emptiness. A microjump took the transport out of the system. There was no debris here to hide behind. But there were also no potential observers. And if uninvited guests appeared - well, the navigator, who possessed Force Navigation, would have found many ways to make them run after him.
"We are relatively safe here," Nick said quietly, taking his hands off the control panel and looking back at the girl. "What about the 'wanting to take the controls' thing?"
"I'm ready, if you're not kidding," Sher replied, looking intently at the control panel. "We made a jump... Can I take your place, or will you switch control to me?"
Nick clicked the seatbelt fasteners, hesitated slightly - and fastened them again.
"I'll switch to you," he explained in an apologetic tone. "Who knows, maybe someone tracked the jump... Seconds can decide everything."
A few commands entered on the panel made the controls paired, as in a training flight.
"Now watch," the navigator began to give explanations, highlighting the necessary instruments. The lecture was short, concise, and ended with the words:
"And don't be afraid of anything. If anything happens, I'm on insurance."
Sher initially looked very serious, even fastening the buckles, taking a deep breath. But as soon as her fingers lay on the control panel, hesitating for a moment to concentrate on Nick's explanations, as soon as she felt "Happy Chance" respond to her touch, the tension began to gradually melt away, giving way to the enchanting sensation of flight... And delight. The ship obeyed! It glided horizontally, it banked slightly, first to the right, then to the left. It gained altitude, responding to her touch... It slowly floated in the cold light of the stars, as if waltzing. Or was the music playing inside her? Or was it her waltz with "Happy Chance"? There was nothing - only her hands on the control panel, only the bottomless cosmos, only the imperceptible line separating it from the cockpit...
The man sitting in the neighboring chair sensitively caught every movement of the inexperienced fingers and every movement of the soul. There was no risk of crashing the ship here, and the navigator just watched, occasionally adjusting and slightly correcting the command - not so much out of concern for the ship's safety, but out of love for the art - and out of a desire for Sher to remember how to do it correctly - removing it from her fingertips, how to do it...
"Will you... Will you continue to teach me, even a little?" Sher asked almost pleadingly, without taking her shining eyes off the control panel and the starry space beyond it. She didn't want to let go of the controls, she didn't want this to be the only time, she wanted to relive this feeling again, when the ship feels you and responds like a string...
"If Rick doesn't forbid it," he wasn't the owner of the ship, and couldn't make such promises. "But I don't think he'll consider a trained pilot on board superfluous. If we both crash - maybe, whether you can fly the ship will depend on whether we can all get away... Hmm."
The navigator reached out and touched Sher's fingers.
"I'm a hopeless dry stick, I think about business first and am very far from romance. Sorry. I'll try to improve."
Nick's words, and, most importantly, his touch made her tear her gaze away from the nose of the ship. She turned to him with still shining and slightly surprised eyes.
"What are you talking about, Nick? Who is the dry stick here? And why are you apologizing?" Sher blushed. "And you don't need to fix anything about yourself, because you are dear to me exactly as you are..." she said quietly.
"You know, if you become romantic too," a smile flashed on her lips, "it will be too much. I think my romance will be enough for both of us. Even with a surplus..."
She really wanted to kiss him, but the chair restraints clearly didn't allow for such situations.
"I'll talk to Rick," her gaze, fixed on the navigator, was full of tenderness, although Sher was already talking about something else. "You never know what might be needed in life in the next minute. Sometimes even seemingly useless things, like reading detective novels... or dancing, can come in handy," she chuckled.
"Your eyes are shining," Nick said quietly. "And I'm about business... That's why I'm a dry stick."
He was interrupted by a call signal. With a swift movement, he switched control to himself, and brought the hand with the comlink to his ear.
"Listening... Received."
He began to explain again what he was doing: acceleration, reaching jump speed, going into hyperspace for a few seconds... He just couldn't explain how to calculate the jump without using a navicomputer. And he remained silent that the captain was returning alone.
Sher focused on the pilot's explanations, memorizing his actions in controlling the ship before jumping into hyperspace, mentally duplicating them, only catching herself on completely unrelated thoughts for moments. Perhaps she was too emotional. Yes, she doesn't fly a ship every day. Yes, and Nick can evoke the strongest romantic feelings. And not only in her. But... Still, she needs to learn to control her emotions.
The fastening clasps clicked.
"It's time for me to get to business too," she smiled, reluctantly getting up from the chair. "And you won't be bored anymore, because Jethro and Rick are returning... Thank you for the flight..." she leaned down and touched his cheek with her lips. "You know, it's addictive... very."
Perhaps she should have kept silent... Perhaps. But, nodding at his cheek and slowly backing away towards the door, she added:
"And this too... is very much so..."
And almost instantly melted into the doorway of the bridge.
"How exalted a girl you look from the outside, if Nick, while doing serious business, apologizes for not being romantic enough? Shine... Shine. But not so brightly. It will hurt your eyes..." she said to herself mockingly, but with a good dose of something bitter and burning... However, the burning and bitterness lasted no more than a few seconds and did not develop. She least of all wanted Nick to feel all this... And the other gifted ones?
Sher sat on the bunk in her cabin, rummaging through things in her bag, looking for something she urgently needed.
"Your lips will be closed, your eyes closed, you can even deceive with body language, but your emotions will be read and understood. Every single one. As if there were no door between this cabin and the deck..."
And something had to be done about it....
She found what she was looking for and left.
In the cabin of the little Toydarian, there was silence and his steady breathing. The bioanalyzer, retuned to his race, repeated the previous data on the monitor almost word for word and indicator for indicator. Almost. But in this "almost" a clear positive trend was traced.
"Eni Wedge," she recalled how she introduced herself to Mr. Carvo today. This is the last time, probably, that she disturbed the memory of this woman, using her name. Finally, it will return to her. Forever. And the girl with the name of the eastern wind is just beginning her life among the stars...
It was not worth waking Mr. Carvo. It was worth waiting for him to wake up. Sher sat in a chair, crossed her legs, and placed a hand-drawn paper tablet on her lap. She closed her eyes for a few minutes, and then got to work. Well, drawing, like any creative work, is also meditation. In its own way...