"I'd like to hear everyone else's opinion first. But no one saw fit to speak up," Rick smiled, taking a sip of caf. "So I'm proceeding with what came to my mind. For each of us, the acquaintance began with a combination of factors that led to sad consequences. Perhaps I'm overly romantic or ironic, but I want to use this fact as the ship's name. 'Unfortunate Accident.' To remember that when everything is against you, you can break free from the oppression of circumstances and coincidences, and rise above it."
He looked around at those present, wondering where the almost legless pirate was lurking.
"How I live without you,
A silent longing has passed,
Everything is fine with me,
Wonderful, as never before..."
Nik's voice turned out to be deep – although he sang barely audibly, everyone heard.
"How you name your yacht, so it will fly?" he asked with a hint, raising an eyebrow.
Nik was singing... You wanted to listen to him again and again. And not just because Nik's voice was the best music in the world to Sher. It was surprisingly pleasant. It was even more surprising that Nik started singing.
"Is this our ship's anthem?" she smiled and lowered her eyes.
If Rick decided that a sad fate united them all, then it seemed she stood out from the general pattern. You couldn't call something that led to happiness a misfortune. It was just a path to a new life, to meeting love, to a new family, to a new job... No, she was just indecently happy!
Sher glanced at those sitting next to her. But for them, everything Rick said was reality. For Larius, and for Weimi, for Bus. And for Nik... The name Kailas. Another name. Just like for her – Pola? But it seemed if you said "Kailas" louder – an avalanche would break loose... So she would remain silent.
And Sher just nodded to Rick...
"It's a cheerful song with a sad ending, Nik couldn't maintain the tone," Rick sipped his caf. "I know one 'Glorious Hole,' 'Rusty Piece of Iron,' and a number of ships that dispute your statement, Nik. But we have a unique case, let's ask two specialists."
He looked at Larius and Bus:
"In your opinion, does the ship's name affect its flight?" He himself didn't think so, but he was curious about the opinions of other crew members.
The shamans exchanged glances, the Kushiban twitched his ears. Larius shrugged and turned her gaze to the captain.
"It's not the name that matters. It's the expectations, conscious and subconscious, that the crew imposes on the ship's name. The Force hears everything... And gives what is expected of it."
"An accident can be unfortunate for those who meet by chance on the road," Bus added and yawned heartbreakingly. "Excuse me. I'm tired."
Sher pulled the caf cup closer with her left hand.
"It's up to you to decide, Cap. But whatever you call your ship, the main thing, I think, is something else. The main thing is its crew, those who operate it, monitor its condition, help its systems function. The ship's luck, after all, is probably in the hands of its crew. Literally," she brought the cup to her lips and took a sip.
"You've convinced me, we won't scare away clients, it will be 'Happy Accident'," the counter clapped his hands, "and, Sher, you're absolutely right."
He finished his caf and stretched, sending a series of signals through his body. For some reason, his body responded with a joyful, almost puppy-like yelp about being around so many people.
"The main issues are resolved, now we're dealing with what I pulled you away from. Nik, give me that memory card, I'll sort through the recordings myself. I'm not letting myself get to the technical stuff yet. Sher, take care of ordering food. Keeping the crew on a health fast is not in my plans."
"Cap, excuse me," the doc stopped Rick, "you promised to help me with a medical examination," she reminded him. "The medbay isn't ready yet, but... Are there any free rooms here somewhere?" Sher looked questioningly at the captain and, remembering the dirty sheets, added: "I'll order the food. Can I order bedding for the crew?"
"I'm perfectly healthy," Bus immediately assured everyone present, turned pale and puffed up twice, bristling his fur. Nik snorted, sent the chip to the captain with a flick across the table, and stuck his nose into his cup of cooling caf.
"It makes sense to introduce Hapan cuisine on board too," he mused.
"Regardless of how you feel, everyone will undergo an examination," Rick said calmly and in a commanding tone, "for your own safety. But first, we'll fly out of this hangar. As for the bedding... Yes, you can. But I'd be an ascetic for now. On this planet, a clean sheet can cost as much as a kilogram of ionite. About the kitchen... I'm not a connoisseur. But we'll definitely get an auto-cooker. So. It seems no one is left without a job?"
"Okay, Cap, we'll be ascetics," the doc stoically accepted Rick's suggestion, though she felt it appropriate to add. "I hope not for too long..."
And she thought that by the end of this long day, filled with excitement and events, she wouldn't care what she slept on. Or what she ate... Well, if the food for the caps, their referents, navigators, fighters, and doctors of 'Happy Accident' was all clear, and Shai already had substantial supplies of dactyl, then what did the first mates of this ship eat? Grass in its pristine essence?
"I'm afraid the trick with Hapan cuisine won't work on the auto-cooker, Nik," Sher sighed for some reason and turned to the first mate, who was still shimmering with a blue sheen.
"And what cuisine do you prefer, Bus?"
"I'm a vegetarian," the disheveled alien replied concisely. "So any cuisine without meat will suit me."
"Alright, everyone get to your tasks. Weimi, before I forget. Besides what I said earlier... Go through the ship, get everyone's commlink numbers," he knew them all anyway, but each crew member had to be in contact with another crew member. "Larius, aim one of our turrets at the hangar entrance, and the other at the spaceship entrance. Report everything to me. I'll be in my cabin."
The doc ran off first. Maybe she was in a hurry to carry out Rick's order, maybe she was worried about Shai. And she was worried that she had shown her feelings to those around her. Her eyes, her voice, even the secret smile of her soul, which still shone with the light emanating from her face, betrayed her.
But if she couldn't touch the unruly gray hair with her palm, she could hear the pilot with her mind, unnoticed by others...
Sher felt no echo of Nik's worries about his appointment. He was calm and focused on his duties. Assured of this, the girl disappeared, leaving everyone with her smile and a request to send Jethro to her for a dressing, if possible.
She didn't wait for everyone else to leave the dining room. The room next door was packed with equipment, sensors, wires, and, judging by appearances, was some kind of communication center. Shergi didn't even go in there. However, another compartment, almost the size of the dining room, greatly interested her. Here, she could place a bacta-chamber, and two or three beds would also fit freely, Sher decided to herself. A few additional light sources on the ceiling – and an operating room and a tiny infirmary in one package were already taking shape. A room, that is. Sher closed the door behind her and took a few steps, estimating where she could place what. But she still needed to talk to the Cap about this. And the doctor stepped back.
The upper deck was already empty, and the elevator was going down. Just in time, she smiled to herself. She had long wanted to go down the vertical ladder, clattering the soles of her army boots...
But she went down very quietly, peeked through the open door into Shai's cabin, listened to her breathing, and returned to her own cabin – to carry out the Cap's order. And to order something else for the intermediary. She needed a dec, a rather large bag of the best caf, and spices for it.
The cuisine of Nar Shaddaa, as such, was a symbiosis of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of different galactic cuisines, and included dishes from the simplest to the exotic, suitable only for certain races. Well, in the poor districts, "fast food" was particularly popular due to its cheapness. But even in some higher-class cantinas, under the guise of fish cutlets, you could get something freeze-dried, almost out of thin air, with the taste of Naboo fish, seasoned with something hot and fatty, after which a huge amount of dubious swill, sold right there, next to the food, is required. Sher ordered what could not be interpreted otherwise than "natural meat in a piece, stuffed with vegetables and baked in a natural sauce with herbs." No, no mushrooms from Tatooine in the sauce! She knew from patients that drug dealers wouldn't shy away from anything to promote their hallucinogenic... Let the side dish be complex. Vegetables, grains. For the first mate, vegetables were also ordered, baked and fresh. And also semi-finished products – baked bird carcasses, stewed meat in pieces, frozen side dishes – grain and vegetable, dough side dishes... Yes, of course, no mushrooms. And do not salt the dishes. Salt in a separate packet, please. Other spices are welcome.
"Yes, another dozen eggs. Bird eggs. That's right, the size of an adult large felinx's head," Sher confirmed. "No, thank you... We'll do without soups this time. What will miss drink?... I'd like water from the cold springs of the icy caves of Migeto... But we'll do with our own water, thank you," Sher grinned and dictated the coordinates of "Gale," meaning "Accident." "And as quickly as possible, please."
She had sent her additional personal order to the Toydarian even earlier. So, all that remained was to go to Rick and report on the execution... And it was time to return to Shai. She was a smart girl for sleeping so well.
Rick waited until all those present at the impromptu council left the kitchen, politely letting Weimi know that he would get to his cabin himself, and that she had enough to do without fussing over the captain like an elderly person in a nursing home. Meanwhile, the datapad was downloading a couple of programs from the HoloNet.
There was another reason why he wanted to be alone in the large dining room. Something was wrong with him. His perception of the world was desperately rebelling, and he needed to identify the causes of his nervous disorder. Because...
Because either he was dangerous to the crew, or he wasn't. He hoped for the latter, since Sher wasn't a psychotherapist, and he didn't particularly want to pour his heart out to anyone. Or did he?
The empty room filled his soul with cosmic longing. Longing for living warmth and the feeling of someone nearby. It seemed he had taken a piece of Shai with him. If this also spoke of the reverse process, he wouldn't mind. He was capable of restraining himself from pouncing on the crew to hug them. At least for now. Looking at the cups on the table, he waited for the download on the deck to finish, stood up, and slowly walked to the elevator, went down one level, and after walking another two dozen steps, sat on the bed.
Put the deck in safe mode, cut off all network connections, insert the infochip, and run one of the downloaded programs, after checking its code. The essence of what was downloaded boiled down to one thing: translating audio files into text. When speaking Basic, it gave almost ninety-eight percent accuracy, with other languages, there was no such effect, but, judging by the dialogue, they were speaking in Galactic Basic.
After copying all the information from the chip to the deck, he disconnected it via a secure protocol and pressed the "start" button in the interface.
Even lines of text ran across the deck's screen. Judging by the remarks, it was about the purchase of this ship. Two creatures of an unidentified translated race were haggling and arguing, and "bucket," as Rick had once called it, was the mildest expression. The ship was clearly stolen, and the buyer was worried about being found. The buyer was also very interested in whether a thorough inspection of the ship had been carried out, and if so, what had been found on it. Upon hearing in response that the previous owner had not dabbled in smuggling, and nothing unaccounted for had been found on board, he became disheartened, said he would think about it, and took his leave.
The second conversation took place shortly after the first. The seller was negotiating with someone else when another crew member arrived. A lively dialogue ensued, generously seasoned with words that were not translated, during which the newcomer insisted on adhering to the agreement and selling the ship to the one who ordered its theft. The conversation moved beyond the cockpit, and its finale remained unknown.
The third recording was a rather drunken monologue – the declaimer philosophically mused on the vicissitudes of fickle fate, on changing clients, on being in a pile of money but unable to realize it, and on other high categories.
The next conversation was a recording from a commlink, and the equipment did not pick up the interlocutor's responses. But, judging by what it managed to record, the ship, not yet sold, was hired to transport a passenger. One passenger. To a place that was not marked on the charts and bore the poetic name "Coal Pit." As a bonus to the payment, there was an offer to find a good buyer. The hijacker agreed.
All other conversations concerned the crew's idle chatter, plans for the future, and other pleasant things. Except for the final recording, which Rick had already heard in the sound design.
The recordings were quite curious. Bringing them up on the deck's screen, the counter began to study the dates. It was necessary to understand how much time had passed between the phrases, and at what intervals they occurred.
In total, the recording lasted about three weeks. The last recorded conversation took place more than four years ago.
Four years is a considerable time. It's possible that those recorded on the tape are no longer alive. But... The book needed to be deciphered, and the ship... It would have to be studied thoroughly in any case. Especially since partial internal compartment redesign was planned.
There weren't many recordings, so Rick decided they should be listened to. At least the main ones. The nuances of voice, intonation could reveal a lot. For example, how much the hijacker was worried about being found.
And he also needed to check the serial number. No one had ever managed to completely change them, and if the power plant was original... Then it would be possible to find out the old name, the home planet, and the first owner of the "Accident." But he had to do this himself; he wasn't sure if Nik had enough qualifications to carefully open the code without damaging the layers that made the ship "Gale."
Creating a password-protected folder, he dumped the information from the chip there, the text version, and made a text file with notes on what he managed to find and what, in his opinion, could be considered in more detail later. He didn't want any surprises on his ship.
And now... Placing the datapad on the block and putting it on the nightstand, Rick took off his boots and stretched out on the bed. He could allow himself some sleep until someone from the crew appeared.
There was a soft knock on the cabin door, the door slid open a little, and the right half of the doctor appeared on the threshold.
"Cap..." she froze, trying to see in the dim light of the cabin whether Rick was asleep or just thinking. "Cap, you're asleep..." she whispered, about to close the door from the other side.
"Not anymore," Rick slowly opened his eyes at the noise, "I sleep very lightly. My profession requires it."
"I still woke you up..." Sher sighed with belated regret, returning to the cabin. "How are you feeling, Rick? A little better?" I can give you another shot in about eight hours."
"You injected me with something that makes me afraid of what will happen to me after the effect wears off," he admitted honestly, "it's not that it's bad, but... it's dangerous. During that time, I could be somewhere in the depths of hyperspace, and that's fraught with consequences..."
The fact that there was a familiar person within sight made him feel somewhat calm and pleasant; something inside him rejoiced that his loneliness had been broken, and this...
It scared him quite a bit.