A narrow street in a dim, sticky fog, the overhanging walls exude dampness and some kind of slime that she carefully avoids touching. She is completely alone, she is in a hurry, she cannot be late, she must hurry to save... Just don't look back at where the echoing footsteps are clearly heard in the gloom... She quickens her pace and turns into an equally narrow alley. Her heart races – someone is standing in the alley. Can't make them out... Only a black cloak, sweeping the hem with every step. And it's approaching... She rushes around in an endless labyrinth of streets, trying to break through, but each time, from the curtain of fog of any street, a silhouette appears, inevitable as fate. Her hands grip the blaster... She'll let it get closer...
"Get out of the way! You can't stop me!" Sher shouts at the silhouette in black. A careless movement, she almost falls against the wall and freezes with horror. Is this strange slime on the stone masonry blood?! Blood, already clotted into trembling crimson pieces...
The iron gait is very close... Cold breath – frost on her skin... She presses the trigger with all her might and shoots, shoots, shoots...
Sher shuddered in her sleep and opened her eyes. Neutral strip. A strip between reality and sleep...
But her heart thumped against her chest once, then a second time. And the cold receded, giving way to hot streams of blood. Silence... Scattered night light. And the bird, sitting on the window. Sher exhaled. Drink the rest of the caf, hold the bird in her hand to understand which reality is a dream. And try to fall asleep again...
...an infinitely long road through corridors. The same gray room without windows. She is simply thrown onto a chair... She squints even from this dim light. There are two people in the office. And a droid, hanging nearby like a black ball.
"Pola Carrada?" this is her interrogator. But Pola is bothered not by him, but by the one standing, turned away... And the droid is so close to her that it blocks everything...
"I did everything I could for you, Carrada," a mocking sigh. "Oh, yes, you don't know yet... Your father disowned such a daughter. And we didn't even ask him to. He did it himself."
The interrogator says something, and Pola tries to make out the person whose presence worries her more than all the insults and threats of the Imperial.
"You, rebel..." today he didn't spare his words. "Do you think it's over? It's just beginning. And this torture is very difficult to endure. More precisely – impossible! Begin!"
The sound of a falling body. The droid also falls silent against the wall in the corner. The man in the Imperial uniform turns around. He has green eyes, gray hair. And a smile... What a smile he has... They go outside... But where is he? Already somewhere far ahead. He's flying away, not even looking back. And she remembers the interrogator's words...
Sher sat up in bed, still reliving what she had seen. A prophecy of sorrow, pain, and hopelessness. How is it, in ancient legends? Every nightmare has something beautiful. You have to touch it and say the incantation: "What I see, I see in a dream, but in reality, come to me..." How well they lived in ancient times. Everything is so easy... But she will probably have to go down to the hall, because it's not a dream anyway. Or to room 21, because he won't come to her if she didn't touch him in her dream...
"I hoped you would have other dreams today..." in a quiet voice, which came from the chair by the door, sincere sympathy could be heard. He stood in the shadows, and it was only possible to notice the person sitting there when he spoke. "Is it like this every night?"
"Nick..." she shook her head in surprise, "that's incredible. I didn't even cast a spell... Have you been here long?"
The joy she felt was stronger than her surprise. "Yes, that happens to me sometimes," she said simply and asked, "Nick, please, don't sit there where I can't see you... Sit next to me. Otherwise, I'll think this is another dream."
She moved closer to the head of the bed, making room for him.
"You forgot to close the door," the pilot stood up. The dim night light softened his thinness, his movements became confident and gentle. He sat on the edge of the cot, his green eyes flashing.
"I came to check if you were alright. And I decided it would be safer for you under supervision. "The Haven" is a pretty peaceful place, but it has very diverse residents..."
His voice was calm, neither reproachful nor accusatory. He was simply telling her.
"I forgot to close the door? Possibly," Sher rubbed her temple and glanced at Viyyar. "My head yesterday... or even today, can hardly be called clear... Thank you, Nick. When I know you're near, I feel so calm... For safety," she added, and secretly smiled at her thoughts. Only for safety...
"And how are you feeling, Nick?" Sher turned her head to him and now didn't look away. "I didn't let you rest..."
"I need less rest than an ordinary person," the pilot shook his head. "I'm fine, Sher... Don't worry. You've already given me the necessary push, now I'll quickly recover what I've lost. But you need to rest... Such dreams can exhaust anyone."
"Are you saying you can imagine what my dreams are about?" Sher asked, worried. The girl's cheekbones turned slightly pink, but it was impossible to notice in the dark.
He wasn't an ordinary person, like her...
"I don't read your thoughts," Nick shook his head. "But I know what makes people scream in their sleep. Even if that scream can't be heard by ordinary ears."
Sher nodded.
"Perhaps when we are far away, I will have different dreams. And for now..." she shrugged, "either get drunk at the bar, or... Nick, you're not going back to your room, are you?" she suddenly asked, feeling a little embarrassed for some reason.
"I'm not leaving," his firm lips twitched into a smile. "Sleep..."
His thin hand, with its clearly defined tendons, touched her hair for a moment, prompting her to lower her head onto the pillow.
She obediently laid her head on the pillow and closed her eyes, but her long eyelashes trembled incessantly. How could she spend the precious time of his presence sleeping? So close that she only needed to reach out and touch him... Everything would change very soon. And these moments were precious and unrepeatable...
If she just closed her eyes and waited for fatigue to take its toll... The darkness before her eyes swayed like a swing.
"Mr. Viyyar," Sher whispered sleepily, "at least sit down and get comfortable if you're tired of lying down. I don't bite in my sleep..."
She smiled, and that faint smile remained on her lips.
"I'll definitely take you up on that invitation..."
Green eyes flickered in the semi-darkness. It was time to check if it had seemed to him, or if the Force sometimes truly worked miracles. That barely perceptible web that was closing the gap in memory – would it be enough for the past to stop being a burnt wound?
"What did you do that was stronger than the Inquisitor's training?.."
Nick touched the sleeping girl with the Force, bridging the gap from consciousness to consciousness, from awake to asleep. That light, joyful feeling she had shared with him during the day flowed back to her, amplified by what the pilot had managed to glean that night.
"Anger is power. But the desire to protect is no weaker than anger... What else will you teach me?.."
"Who was talking about fire and water? There's something else you can look at endlessly," Sher sat in bed quietly, almost not breathing, and looked at the face of Nick, who was sleeping in the armchair by her bed. The wrinkles that crossed his face... the bitter crease at the corner of his determined mouth... such a masculine chin... She knew all this by heart now, like her own face. And he didn't need to be told anything about himself. Sher felt everything else with her heart that wasn't on the surface. That's why she so desperately wanted this tired, disillusioned, gray-haired man, a man of incredible willpower, to want to live again, to want to be happy again. "And this is not pity. This is pain. And yes, I think I know the name of my "miracle god", Mr. Viyyar," Sher said to herself. "Will it be enough against the power of the past, that's the question... But the "miracle god", thank him, has a huge altar..."
The girl silently slipped off the bed. Her hand, almost touching his cropped hair, froze and then, after a second, gently rested on Nick's shoulder. A warm breath somewhere at the level of his temple.
"Mr. Viyyar, you need to lie down... I'm sorry you had to be my sitter."
He didn't move, but at the same time, it became clear that the pilot was no longer asleep.
"I rested perfectly, Sher," green eyes opened. Nick raised his hand, and jiggled a string with colorful beads of various sizes and shapes.
"I did a little shamanic work last night... Keep it with you, nightmares won't bother you anymore."
"This... For me?! Such beauty?" Sher's already large eyes became enormous. She had seen these beads on Nick's hand, but she could never have imagined... "Oh, thank you, Mr. Viyyar!"
And her hand already reached for this fantastic string.
The string slipped into her palm.
"For you."
It was just a beacon that couldn't be detected by any means of observation. Only through the Force. He had worked half the night, glancing at the sleeping girl, catching images, capturing them in plastic. Who would have thought that dreams looked so strange...
"Have you contacted Nemo, Shergi?"
"Not since he brought me here..." the girl deftly threaded the string onto her hand. The movement of her hand in the bracelet, the unusual look of the beads suddenly brought back a forgotten feeling. She sprang from her spot and began to dance. The movements of her hands, soaring upwards, initially soft, almost balletic, which she had been taught in the studio, changed to sharp, almost angular. The wings of a steppe bird, when only the fingers fluttered, suddenly became two swords, crossed in battle... Almost feline softness of movement was replaced by the impulsiveness of a wild maenad. She spun in this stream of images, inspired by Nick's gift, and at the end of the dance, stopping near Nick, she kissed him somewhere near the temple. "Thank you!"
And she realized that she had crossed all boundaries.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Viyyar..." Sher stepped back, scared and embarrassed. "You said I should contact Mr. Nemo?" she hastily picked up the intercom on the table.
His long fingers closed around her wrist in a death grip, not allowing her to step back. The pilot didn't even need to get up to catch her – the movement was precise and swift, like a snake's lunge. Two faces, one against the other, for an endless moment.
"No need," and he froze, not releasing her fingers, when he realized what he had just done.
"No... no need?" she whispered, barely audibly, with disobedient lips. Those green eyes, like a deep green ocean, in which one could only drown, but never swim out...
Sher sighed almost inaudibly, but didn't look away.
A languid silence hung in the room. It grew like a snowball, pressed on her ears, made it difficult to breathe. The pilot didn't look away, didn't release her caught hand, and said nothing. His gift of speech had failed him.
Jethro, who peeked through the door, broke the pause:
"Doc, you're here... Oh, excuse me. I think I'm interrupting..."
Sher turned her gaze to the Duro, her eyes still showing confusion, and didn't answer immediately.
"It's alright, Jethro, Mr. Viyyar just wasn't letting me call Mr. Nemo," she finally said. "Did something happen, or is it time for your bandage change?" she asked with anxiety. A suppressed sigh subsided deep in her chest, not allowed to break free.
"I wanted to ask what exercises I can do," the two pilots looked at each other with a slight squint. "Was I interrupting your call? Then I'm right on time... Hey, buddy, who are you and what are you doing here?"
"Calm down, Mr. Jethro, he's right – I shouldn't have interrupted our conversation with a call," Sher said in a firm tone, and then added more gently, "I'll come to your room for your bandage change now and show you the exercises, Mr. Jethro. Wait for me in your room. Please. And you, Mr. Viyyar, please get ready for your IV drip," she glanced at Nick, as if trying to understand what had just happened.
"And one more thing, guys," she swept them with her gaze. "If you start making trouble, you can pray that I don't give you a colonic hydrotherapy. I've warned you," she promised and added, "And now I need to change."
"Yes, ma'am," the men replied in unison, again staring at each other with obvious suspicion. Nick reluctantly finally released his fingers, and a moment later, no one was in the room.
As soon as the door closed behind them, the girl sat on the bed with a sigh, burying her face in her hands. Her heart sank, froze, and then began to beat wildly somewhere in her throat. Shergi... A hot wind fluttered in her chest, a hot wind burned her face from the inside...
What was that?! No, she shouldn't think about it, she needed to take some measures immediately. Sher carefully removed Nick's gift, holding the string in her hands, running through all the beads and admiring them. Then she rushed to the shower, under the icy water. It was very difficult to come to her senses in any other way, if at all... While she was freezing completely, breakfast was brought.
She pushed the unfinished coffee to the edge of the table, and once again admired the exotic string on her wrist. It all started with this. Her dance. A harmless kiss... Gods of Coruscant...
She really wanted to see his eyes. And she was afraid to see ice in them again. She took a breath, as if stepping into icy water. And so she entered his room. On an inhale.
Nick stood by the window – a dark silhouette against the bright monitor. He turned when the door opened and froze, looking at the doctor. His face couldn't be seen against the light.
Sher glanced at the pilot, but couldn't see the expression in his eyes. And he didn't seem to intend to say anything. He just stood and was silent. She turned and took albumin from the cryo-unit. And then, silently, she placed the bag on the table and walked very close to the monitor.
"Nick," she tried very hard to speak calmly. Very hard, "Nick, why aren't you in bed yet?" but her eyes held a completely different question. And not even "What was that?" Sher looked at him to feel what was at the bottom of the green ocean.
"You know I can't talk without seeing eyes," she said quietly.
Instead of an answer, the pilot placed his palms on her shoulders and turned her with him. Now they stood sideways to the imitation window. The morning light was bright enough to allow a glimpse into his eyes.
There was no ice in them.
"I decided to wait until you finished with Jethro," Nick said quietly. A dark shadow slid across the green depths.
"I decided to come to you first," Shergi began quietly, but if this isn't part of your plans, I can change my decision quickly," her voice became even quieter. "Just tell me."
That shadow in his eyes... With the feeling of a strange longing in her heart, she already understood that this was the end. Sher lowered her eyes so he wouldn't see what she was feeling now. After all, this wasn't the most important thing. "The miracle god has a large altar. And an unlimited sacrificial stone."
His palms moved from her shoulders – only to take her hand again. The same one. This touch was nothing like the recent steel grip.
"I almost bruised you. I'm sorry."
"Do me a favor, Nick, please don't apologize for it," she shook her head and smiled. "I have strong hands and sturdy vessels, for your information. Otherwise..." she paused. "Otherwise, I'll have to apologize for dancing, and I don't regret anything, Nick..."
"I just didn't want to let you go," his long fingers gently tucked a slightly damp strand of hair that had escaped her hairstyle behind her ear. "And I didn't think I might scare you. Or hurt you. You dance wonderfully, Sher..."
"Is this called "fishing for a compliment"?" Sher asked quietly, closing her eyes and freezing at the touch of his fingers. "So you're always talking about dancers..." Sher's voice became even quieter. "It's all your gift, Nick. And you can't scare me. It's more likely that I scared you. And I still want to scare you..."
"Look at me," the pilot asked, holding his fingers on her cheek.