Nothing had changed at the hangar during the new ship owner's absence. Only the workers had finally dismantled their equipment, and now the area near the "Gale's" parking spot was completely empty. A dark stain of blood on the plascrete was the only reminder of the drama that had unfolded there.
Nick, who had been teasing Jethro in a low voice all the way, suddenly fell silent and turned his head as if sniffing the air.
"Someone's here," he said, instantly transforming from a gray-haired slacker into a collected fighter ready for battle. "Two of them. Strong..."
Sher glanced at Nick, and her subconscious immediately noted that this was a new Nick for her, a little like Tardi, but strong and confident. She had never seen him like this before... True, this fleeting thought immediately dissolved into the stream of eternal anxiety for her beloved. Therefore, her hand almost instinctively went to the grip of her blaster. And in the slit of the fake pocket of her black jacket, the barrel of the pistol gleamed coldly.
Rick, as usual, touched the Force, checking the auras of the creatures around the ship. Perhaps the two strong ones were Larius and Bus, and perhaps not...
It was indeed them. Both were by the ship, both were busy with something – the movement of the Force around them was felt from a distance.
"They're ours," the guy said, getting out and paying the driver. The latter, unlike the Mirialan, accepted the cash cheerfully and with joy.
Ours? Sher fell silent. The slit in her jacket pretended to be a pocket again. Ours... I wonder what they are like, those with whom she will have to work and live in the same crew, possibly for many, many months? So far, she only knew some of them...
Nick heard the word "ours" but was in no hurry to release his combat concentration. He poked his head into the hangar door first, decisively pushing the whole group aside, and immediately all his enthusiasm vanished – right in front of him on the floor sat a fluffy white creature, looking attentively with large eyes.
"Bus," the Kushiban introduced himself.
"Nick," the pilot replied politely, shifting his gaze to the second shaman.
"Larius Maskat," the woman introduced herself, gathering her bones and nuts into a pouch and standing up.
Behind her, a speeder gleamed with its metallic sides.
"No problems?" the captain inquired of Larius in a casual tone. "Jet, the passenger cabins are on the second deck."
"For now," the guy added mentally to himself.
"We got everything," Larius replied calmly. "Shaya had to be sedated and locked in the cabin. He's going through withdrawal. Weymi is in the cockpit, on duty."
"I'm Sher, you can just call me doc," the girl who entered introduced herself with a smile.
"So that's what 'ours' are like. White and fluffy? Cute..."
"Who's going through withdrawal?" she perked up.
"The Arconan. Where is he?" it could be seen from her slightly trembling fingers that the person was hurrying to the reptile.
"Cap, will you escort me to him?" Sher habitually slung the strap of her case over her shoulder, which had already been placed on the hangar floor. And she looked back at Nick. Just to look. To say goodbye with her gaze to the time when all her twenty-four hours belonged only to him.
"In his cabin," Bus lifted his tail and headed for the ramp. A few seconds later, the gangway began to lower to meet them. "I'll show you."
The pilot flinched – the idea of letting Sher go to a Duros in withdrawal didn't seem like a good one. But with two forces like that, barging in after her would cast doubt on Rick's authority as captain. Nick stopped.
"So, what should Jetro and I do?"
Rick took an infochip out of his deck and threw it to Nick.
"Study it together with Larius and Bus, decide if anything threatens our safety, and start preparing the ship for launch," he looked at the girl. The idea of medicinal treatment hadn't occurred to him. "Sher, I'm not sure if you have any medications in your kit for a creature so different from humans."
"Cap, I am a doctor, after all, aren't I? I need to see him, understand what can be done in such a situation? It's not just about medication, as the ancient physicians said..." Sher didn't lag behind the captain, quickening her pace beside him.
"You really need to see," Rick said thoughtfully, gathering his concentration. Simply alleviating the pain might not work. Or will it? You won't know until you try. "He'll need a course of treatment. In the future. To restore the organ affected by salt addiction. This aspect will need to be studied."
They were only a few meters from Shai's room.
"An organ that uses ammonia," Sher nodded. "That's why the amount of dactyl consumed constantly increases in a geometric progression... I need to take his blood to see how to alleviate the physical pain when withdrawal begins. And..." she glanced at the captain before the cabin indicated by Bus. "No, nothing. We'll manage, cap."
"And one more thing," Rick stopped and turned in front of the door to look Sher in the eyes, "what happens next should not be disclosed beyond the ship. Is that clear to you?"
Perhaps the tone was somewhat official, but... Rick was completely focused on helping the alien. And he didn't have the energy for polite conversation with the girl.
"You didn't need to warn me, cap," her gray eyes looked at Rick calmly and openly. "Clear, sir. It won't go beyond me," she said in the tone of a private repeating an order from a sergeant.
"Well, that's wonderful," the captain turned and entered the cabin to see Shai's condition firsthand.
The doc followed.
The Arconan was indeed asleep. The heavy sleep of a creature that had been given a strong dose of tranquilizer, then tied hand and foot, and additionally strapped to the cot. He was tied skillfully – he couldn't move, but the knots of the thin cord and loops didn't dig into his skin or disrupt blood circulation. His skin looked gray and damp with sweat, his breathing was heavy and intermittent, and from time to time he moaned dully – even in his sleep, he was tormented by pain.
A crease appeared between Sher's eyebrows. She knew firsthand what a drug addict with abstinence syndrome was capable of. He was capable of anything. But the sight of the bound, sick Arconan evoked acute compassion and completely different memories.
"Sher," the guy's voice was firm, but an attentive person could see his darting gaze and the position of his lips, characteristic of a person with tightly clenched lips. "We need dactyl."
This was precisely what the Arconan's skin color indicated.
"And immediately," Sher nodded, turning her worried gaze to Rick. "I'll bring it, just tell me where to get it. Because I only have a very small dose with me."
With a quick movement, the girl took a small container from her case and handed it to the captain.
"In the car," the Kushiban explained from under the table. "You didn't say where to store the supplies. Look in the trunk and on the back seat."
"Thank you," Sher nodded hurriedly at the fluffy shaman and disappeared behind the cabin door. The elevator quickly took her to the lower deck, and the girl swiftly ran down the ramp. The speeder was in the same place. She didn't bother opening the trunk, taking a rather heavy pack from the seat.
"The most urgent thing after the pain syndrome is controlled and he receives the dactyl, is to check the state of his circulatory system," flashed through Sher's mind as the doctor ran back to the Arkonian's cabin.
Rick was absorbed in the question of how to best relieve Shay's pain. He could have run through the creature's receptors and relieved the pain, but...
There was no certainty that frequent use wouldn't cause a side effect. This meant something else had to be done. And quickly.
Sitting at the head of the Arkonian's bed, he rubbed his palms together and clasped Shay's head.
His plan was simple. He needed to penetrate the Arkonian's consciousness, which, given their pack nature, shouldn't be a problem. And then shield his mind from pain. Then both body and mind should be generally fine. What or whom he would use as a barrier, the counter preferred not to think about.
"Shay..." he called confidently and, at the same time, politely to the alien.
Contact with the consciousness of the sleeping Arkonian was very easy. Rick felt attention and readiness to move towards him.
Very carefully, partly out of caution when manipulating another's mind, partly out of his own apprehension, he began to slowly envelop Shay's mind with a veil of protection from his own sensations, perfectly understanding what the price of this protection would be for himself. But he had a weak, but still a trump card. He knew it wouldn't be his pain, and that he would be fine.
The Arkonian responded. But not in the way the human expected to perceive.
Loneliness. The monstrous, incomparable loneliness of a creature unable to perceive itself separately from the community, could only be very approximately perceived by a consciousness different from that of a collective being. Rick felt as if he had instantly lost all his limbs; he remembered he had them, but didn't feel them. But this didn't stop the phantom pain from tormenting him...
Inside the Arkonian's consciousness, loneliness reigned supreme, filled with unending pain. And the physical suffering was only a faint reflection of what he constantly experienced. Except for those moments when salt drove away the emptiness within, filling it with rainbow visions...
Rick still managed to hear Bus's warning cry. A moment later, he was seized by a fit of severe convulsions, more like an epileptic seizure. And the strongest impulse he felt was a desperate, instinct-exceeding desire to feel at least some living creature nearby.
Sher was already almost at the door when she heard a non-human scream. Everything inside her snapped; she yanked the door open and froze... Rick lay on the floor near the Arkonian's cot, writhing in convulsions. Her subconscious still registered that instead of the snow-white Kushiban, a completely brown one had crawled out from under the table, but her mind dismissed it as an insignificant detail. Sher dropped the dactyl and rushed to the captain, holding him with her strong arms and pressing him to the floor with all her might. But it was impossible to hold such a strong man, even with her whole body.
"Bus, help!" she shouted to the brown shaman, pulling the case towards her with one hand.
The Kushiban darted towards the package. And at that moment, Nick and Larius burst into the cabin. The pilot had a blaster in his hand, and murder in his eyes. Now. Immediately.
Seeing the captain writhing on the floor, understanding dawned in the ex-CIS operative's eyes. Nick put away his weapon and knelt beside Sher, helping to hold Rick. The mercenary pressed him to the floor from the other side.
"Cap... Rick! Rick... My good boy... Everything will be alright now..." Sher whispered, calming him. Her hands already knew by touch where, in which compartment of the case, the right injector was. The movements were precisely calculated. The vein on his wrist was the closest. The injector with the anticonvulsant and anti-shock complex plunged into the blue thread protruding under the skin.
"Thank you, guys. Just in time," Sher exhaled, checking Rick's pupil reaction. But his facial features had already visibly begun to relax.
"Arkonian!" she immediately exclaimed, jumping to her feet and grabbing the pack of dactyl that Bus was tearing at. A light press on the smooth skin under his chin, and the Arkonian's mouth opened. The dactyl crystals were carefully placed on his tongue.
The Kushiban was immediately beside him, nudging the Arkonian's head to the side with his paw so he wouldn't choke. Dark and light stripes ran along his long fur.
The pilot, without getting up, patted the captain's cheeks.
"Man, are you tired of your sanity? Who goes into the head of a drug addict, and with such species quirks?!"
It seemed that Rick could only separate his emotions from others and his mind from others on similar creatures or on... Not on such advanced ones. He couldn't resist the flow of alien pain and emotions, plunging into what was reigning in Shay's head. And he didn't like it. Neither his mind nor his body, which took a significant blow. It was somewhat similar to the state after a jump, with the difference that now he had gotten involved quite voluntarily. He didn't have to break the connection with the Arkonian; it happened without his further intervention.
The first reflex was simple - to close himself off from everything, but his subconscious quickly dismissed this option due to a simple fact. There was no guarantee he would return. He couldn't think; everything flashed with images and fragments of life. His old life. Then he felt someone grab him. He involuntarily wanted to punch the grabber in the nose, preferably hard, but his body didn't obey. Then the counter felt two light nudges, signaling that someone had just poked him, and along with the medicine, the ability to think, at least just to think, slowly began to return.
Consciousness was returning, but perception left much to be desired. Such a sensitive system needed to reconfigure itself after what Rick had voluntarily let into it. Someone was hovering nearby, and it was someone familiar. Familiar. A memory of a flying speeder came to mind, but now everything was a little different. The first person Rick recognized was Kai... Nick. And he didn't seem to know Nick's last name. However, it wasn't important now. It was hard to grasp that he was saying something. His eyes saw the movement of lips, but instead of hearing, there was a jammer. A quality one.
The counter, with difficulty, reached his temple.
"What happened here?" Sher asked the Kushiban, adding another dactyl crystal to Shay's tongue.
Seeing Rick raise his hand, the doctor took a step back and sank to the floor near him again.
"How are you, cap? How are you feeling?" Her gray eyes looked at him without their usual smile, very seriously and attentively.
"How many fingers do you see?" she asked, showing him two fingers.
The captain didn't react.
"Are we on a first-name basis now?" he managed to say hoarsely, focusing on his fingers to distinguish the extra ones on the second try. "Two?"
The touch to his temple struck his head like a bell, as if he had been drinking for several days straight.
Convinced that the captain was coming around, the mercenary stood up and moved aside, leaning her back against the bulkhead. Bus, still shedding in all the colors of the spectrum, sniffed the Arkonian's head. The alien was clearly pulled out of a medically induced sleep by this contact - he was waking up, unconsciously reaching for the captain's fading consciousness.
And he was in a lot of pain.
Nick remained standing next to the captain, on one knee, looking like a long-legged wild cat crouched before a jump. He was silent, not interfering in the conversation, and listening to something.
"No, cap, but I'm glad you noticed," Sher said without a trace of a smile. "Two, that's right."
"He needs to..." she began, addressing Nick, and fell silent. She felt his wary attention, as sensitive as a hunting predator's. "...be taken to his cabin," she finished quietly, slowly shifting her gaze to the Arkonian. It seemed he was waking up...
The thought of having to be taken somewhere unexpectedly made him feel melancholic, and his subconscious, which had avoided crowds for almost a decade, considering more than three people nearby to be too many, screamed its unwillingness to be alone. His weakened mind tried to assess the innovations in his owner's behavioral mechanisms, but strained and gave up.
"I'm fine," he said stubbornly, convincing himself and everyone around him. Weakness didn't count. He could help Shay, unexpectedly now - even more than a couple of minutes ago - the Arkonian needed a painkiller, and I need a stimulant.
He would deal with the consequences of his stunt later, then, in... The thought of loneliness again rose like a lump in his throat.
"Sir," the girl involuntarily straightened up, looking the captain in the eye, "if you've seriously decided to take up my profession," she said calmly, but the firmness in her voice clearly belonged to an Imperial medical service lieutenant, "perhaps I should take your place on the bridge? If, of course, you haven't decided to write me off overboard, because I don't understand why you need a doctor in the crew. But you won't get a stimulant, sir, in any case," she added, tucking a strand of hair into her braid.