Rick woke up from a slight jolt, signaling that the ship had emerged from hyperspace. While trying to do something with his hair on the go, he went to the cockpit to land the transport.
By the time they exited the jump, Larius had taken control of the passengers. Together with Bus, she entertained them with morning conversation over a cup of caf and the remnants of former luxury in the form of a hot salad.
Nick was on duty in the cockpit, with caf and a plate of a couple of sandwiches waiting for the captain on the instrument panel.
"Slept well?" the navigator inquired.
"I'll tell you later," the guy immediately sat in the chair, frowning at the emptiness of space through the blister. Taking the cup of caf, he first let his hands warm up, and only then spoke. He simply pushed his hair back from his forehead so it wouldn't get in the way. "Is everything calm on board?"
"So far, yes," Nick was laconic. "Bus turns out to be an excellent anti-stress crew member. I spoke with the lieutenant. We'll see what he decides."
"Good," Rick drawled, sending a landing request to the planet, "good…"
The landing permit was issued without any problems – the traffic wasn't heavy enough to make them wait long.
Waimi quietly scratched at the door.
"Rick?"
"Huh?" the captain almost burned himself, calculating the landing trajectory to save fuel.
The Lethan found the navigator in the cockpit as well, twitched the tips of her lekku, and danced to his chair so as not to distract the captain from his calculations.
"I have three lists here," she handed the datapad to Nick. "The first is from Sher, it lists the necessary medications, what can be found here – she doesn't know, she wrote down everything we need. The second is from Larius, it's food. And the third is from me, it's household needs…"
"Extravagant," Rick sighed, smiling, "give me your lists. Nick, adjust the course."
"Well, we could do without the rugs in the freshener," Waimi handed the datapad under his arm. "But without bed linen, we really wouldn't want to…"
The navigator silently made the adjustments. He could have landed the transport without these calculations… But relying too much on the Force was also not an option.
Rick looked through the lists, took a final sip of caf, and smiled:
"Did you gather the information?" he casually cut out everything he considered a luxury, including the rugs.
"The lists? Me," the Twi'lek flicked her head tails, sending the items of "luxury" into oblivion. Asking Larius's council for the maximum to get what was needed turned out to be effective.
"Clever girl," Rick continued, adjusting the lists, this time for provisions, and they involved adding alcoholic beverages, "will you be looking for all this too?"
"I can," the girl replied a little uncertainly. "But I'll need someone to accompany me…"
"However, my presence might ensure a good discount," Rick thought for a moment, "we'll do it together."
Waimi beamed and rushed off to get ready.
The navigator squinted at the unfolding panorama of the planet below, smiled, and remained silent.
"You'll handle refueling and maintenance in my absence," the captain sighed, starting on the sandwiches. He would have preferred to stay on the ship, but the captain's position had its drawbacks. "And I'm still thinking about how best to get rid of the passengers."
"You're clearly too late for the 'throw overboard' option," the navigator chuckled. "There will be too many witnesses. So we'll have to go the more complicated route. Hand them over to the port authorities, and let them worry about how to do their own jobs."
"Uh-huh," the guy nodded, sighing, "there will be a lot of questions. And a lot of noise."
"Well, yes, it's not every day you hand over people rescued from pirates," Nick agreed. "But you can always ask Captain Lowe to wait until we finish all our business before you start answering. Otherwise… What do we really lose from this commotion?"
"I don't like being the center of attention," Rick admitted, "you feel defenseless."
"By the time they get moving," Nick aimed for the landing pad. "By the time the journalists sniff it out… By the time they figure out what's what… We'll be in the center. Of the galaxy."
He meant they'd have time to get to the center before things got stirred up here.
"I just had an idea on how to reduce the problems of fame," the guy smiled, "we just need to exchange a few words with the local security."
The ex-ISB officer raised an eyebrow questioningly. The transport hovered over the pad and gently landed on the surface.
"We'll just leak some information," the guy smiled, "and ask them not to report on us and not to disclose our data. Out of fear of reprisal."
"That's an option too," Nick nodded, looking at the runway. "Get ready to receive customs."
Rick got up from his chair, heading out of the cockpit:
"I'd advise you not to show your face, I don't have any makeup…" he headed to his cabin, quickly put on lenses, and combed his hair, the black color of which nicely contrasted with his face, and then, with the ship's documents, rushed to the ramp where he was supposed to be met. The "Destroyer" was carefully unloaded and hidden under the pillow of the bed, which the guy deliberately didn't make.
Customs, in the form of a stern lady, pursed her lips at the sight of the unforgivably young captain, from her point of view. "Trouble from such people," – her gaze eloquently conveyed. Stiffly introducing herself as Yuna Chris, the lady was about to proceed with the inspection accompanied by a droid when a kushiban got tangled at her feet.
"Oh," Yuna reacted to the indignant squeak. "I can be clumsy, I'm sorry."
She bent down to scratch the fluffy creature behind the ear.
"It's all right," Rick bloomed with a good-natured smile, "it's I who should apologize to you, for my crew. Rick Monroe, captain of the 'Gella'."
He bowed his head in sign of respect and greeting and handed the documents to the customs officer.
Pleasantly surprised by his politeness, the officer nodded favorably, accepting the documents.
"Are there any prohibited items on board?" she asked.
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about regarding what I have on board," Rick said it very calmly, "there's nothing prohibited, but anyone would say that. Shall we go to the mess hall? and I'll tell you everything."
The woman was surprised and intrigued, but nodded to the droid and stepped onto the ramp.
"All right, Captain Monroe. Show me and tell me."
"Larius," Rick called the woman on the comlink, "escort Captain Lowe to the command mess hall."
"Please," Rick offered the woman his arm, bent at the elbow.
Yuna favorably accepted this sign of attention. Bus, fluffing his tail, ran ahead, showing the way.
"I see you have order here," the officer remarked thoughtfully. "Not a common sight on merchant ships…"
Besides Lowe and Larius, Waimi was sitting in the mess hall: modestly dressed, with a datapad in her hands.
"Now it's clear where the order comes from," Yuna smiled.
"It's not clean where they clean, but where they don't litter," the captain quoted a folk saying, "I have no cargo declaration, meaning no cargo at all, only passengers. One Toydarian and nine other people."
He decided to keep silent about the Les race, as well as about the polymorph's corpse.
"Usually, women in the crew are disciplined… What, excuse me?" the officer raised her eyebrows. "You've taken up passenger transport without a license?"
"No, ma'am," Visent stood up to meet her. "Captain Monroe has taken up rescuing the injured. I am Visent Lowe, captain of the cruise yacht 'Gem of Hunt', Corellia. This young man rescued me, the crew, and several other passengers and brought us here."
"Aha," Rick nodded to the captain in greeting, "please sit down, there's no truth in standing, as they say. And I have as many as three women in my crew, ma'am."
A flicker of sympathy crossed the officer's gaze.
"In that case, I'll have to call security, Captain Monroe. Are there any injured on board? Do you need medical services?"
"There are no injured on board, ma'am," he decided to keep silent about Muha's condition too, "but… It's a delicate matter, and I wouldn't want any publicity. For my own safety and the safety of the crew."
"Captain Monroe is afraid that the pirates might try to get back at him," Lowe explained.
"I understand," the customs officer took out her comlink. "You will discuss this matter with security, gentlemen captains, I will invite them now, and let someone show me the ship while you talk."
"I can," Waimi stood up from her seat. "Ma'am, can you later advise me on who is best to buy food and medicine from? We are here for the first time…"
"Of course," the officer smiled and contacted the spaceport.
"And bring the little animal with you," Rick nodded at Bus, "he likes to meet new faces."
The "little animal" twitched its ear, its fur darkening for a moment, but said nothing. After exchanging a few words with the head of security, the officer, accompanied by the kushiban and the Twi'lek, left the mess hall.
Half an hour later, the "Happy Chance" said goodbye to its passengers. Further handling would be up to the relevant services. Captain Monroe received a promise to keep his name secret from the press and permission from customs to stay on the planet. Waimi got a list of reliable suppliers. Bus got another scratch behind the ears and advice to show the "little animal" to a veterinarian, just in case.
Seeing off the port personnel and passengers, Larius sat down, stretched her legs, and vowed never to even think about becoming a captain.
Watching the speeder disappear over the horizon, Rick thought that under different circumstances, he could easily have earned himself bloody stripes. And now, all that was left was to go and beg Bus's forgiveness for his familiarity, and look for Waimi. And also, looking at the planet's fields, he really wanted to buy himself a swoop… But he was short on free money.
So he went to look for his referent, who had also become a quartermaster.
Waimi sat in the cabin, tucking her legs under her, and looked through the lists. When the door opened, she momentarily broke away from her work, smiled, twitched her lekku, and buried herself in the datapad again.
"Rest, workaholic," the guy smiled, "or let's go, I'll make you some caf, as a thank you."
"Let's go," the Lethan didn't refuse, getting up and taking the datapad with her. "I tattled on you to the officer. I said you consider the rug in the freshener unnecessary luxury. She laughed so hard that she didn't look into the workshop."
"And who will wash them, and the dust?" Rick was ready to count on his fingers, but didn't, "especially since we don't have much money. Thank you, Waimi."
In the kitchen, the guy did what he promised, making caf. He wasn't a great cook, but he had learned to brew caf in his time. Although he preferred it with liqueur or something similar. A few minutes later, a cup of hot, aromatic drink was in front of the Lethan. Rick had exactly the same in his hands.
While he was conjuring over the stove, Waimi was checking the lists.
"In general, everything you didn't cross out can be purchased from four suppliers," the girl informed him. "It could have been three, but alcohol is cheaper here," she jabbed the screen with her stylus.
"Cheap alcohol is… Alcohol is harmful anyway. And cheap alcohol is dangerous," he reasoned, taking a sip, "we'll go there last. Tell me about the suppliers."
"I think the officer gets money from them for such recommendations," Waimi dipped into her cup, almost burning the tip of her tongue and wrinkling her nose amusingly. "But if she recommends unreliable suppliers, she could have problems. I assumed that the quality of goods should be acceptable for everyone, and started looking for those who could sell us not just one item from the list, but several at once. Then I compared prices… It turns out that it's better to go to 'Donis' company for frozen products, 'Molen' deals with semi-finished products, and you can buy household goods from a regular supplier, Zas Torvi. He sells directly at the hangar, which is cheaper than in a store. And alcohol is available at 'Molen', but more expensive than at 'Drovakh'."
"Companies," Rick wrinkled his nose and smiled at the same time, "I don't like companies. They usually don't bargain. Although the chances of getting a side job are less. How much time do you need to prepare for the trip?"
"Five minutes," Waimi smiled. "I'll just finish my caf."
"Then let's finish our caf and go."
After the Lethan and the captain were ready for departure, Rick scratched his beard and suggested:
"Let's have the doctor go for the medications, we'll inform her about it now," and headed to Sher's cabin, beckoning the girl to follow him.
"Alone?" Waimi even tore herself away from the datapad for such an occasion. "It's an unfamiliar planet, although it seems quiet… Maybe with someone after all?"
"Sher is a grown girl, she'll choose a companion herself," the guy said, knocking on the bulkhead.
The Lethan twitched her lekku uncertainly and didn't argue.
Sher met the captain with a towel on her head and skin still glistening wet from the shower.
"Come in, Rick, I was just about to come to you, but I decided to wash off all the impressions from… the examination," the word found was more suitable than its precise definition.
"Ah, you dissected our little frog?" the captain smiled. "And how are things?"
"Yes," Sher tore off the towel with a sigh and, shaking her head, let the still-damp strands fall freely onto her shoulders.
"Shi'ido," she stated briefly, "a very old shi'ido, somewhere over 400 years old. Everything as it should be – wandering tendons, a huge reserve of muscle mass," there wasn't much pleasant in the memories of this, and Sher tried to be as brief as possible in her report. "The organs are quite worn out, which is not surprising – the subject had a penchant for heavy narcotic drugs."
She jerked her head, either trying to get rid of the colorful images appearing before her eyes, or straightening her hair.
"Nothing else interesting, cap."
Waimi stood quietly, not interfering in the conversation, and rummaged through the lists.
"Sher," she said quietly when there was a pause, "I took the medication list from you, and here I was given several addresses of pharmaceutical suppliers, but I don't understand their specifics at all. Maybe you could look at it yourself and decide who is trustworthy?"
"You'll go, buy it, and make sure of the quality of the goods," Rick continued as if nothing had happened, "take someone with you so it's not so boring…"
"Thank you, Waimi," the doctor nodded to the Lethan with her soft smile, touched her sleeve, and turned her gaze back to the captain. "Well, if there are volunteers," Sher said, looking pointedly at Waimi, "then… When do I need to be ready?" she concluded questioningly. "And what amount are you giving me carte blanche for, I'd like to know."
"You'll choose the volunteer yourself, we have half the ship, for example, this planetologist, since she's still with us," the counter proposed, considering the amount he could give. "I expect you to stay within two or three thousand."
"By the way – yes," Sher agreed, "Day would be good to relax after everything she's been through. And if she agrees, I'll be glad. So, two or three thousand after all?" she returned to what concerned her.
"Generally three," the guy said, copying Sher's tone, "but it would be better if it were two."
"All right, I'll try," Sher replied with a resigned sigh. She was unusually accommodating now, most likely due to the recent dissection.
"When do we leave, cap?" she asked, twisting her braid and calculating if she would have time to see Nick before that.
"Sher, are you all right?" Rick looked at the girl attentively. His gaze read concern, bewilderment, and a threat of retribution for lying, "you're unusually accommodating."
"Me?" Sher shrugged in surprise. "Ah! I understand why you're so concerned, cap," she guessed with a smile. "Well, you could have warned me that this… object," she glanced quickly at Waimi and changed the word. "Is like two peas in a pod with one of the passengers I was just examining before… Despite the… changes that occurred in him, he was recognizable." Sher avoided specific terms as much as possible. Others didn't need to be aware of this work.
"No," Rick shook his head, "it's just that usually for every word of mine, you have two of your own. And here such obedience… That I got scared, what if the polymorph is you…"
"Is that so?" the girl's eyebrows shot up. "As I understand it, to prove to you that I am me, I will have to spend more than three thousand? Well, all right, cap," Sher shrugged with feigned composure, threw her braided pigtail over her back, and added more seriously.
"Yes, by the way, I packed him, I hope you'll determine his purpose? And then, Rick, even a shi'ido doesn't live with such a hole in his head."
"We'll throw him into space," the guy shrugged vaguely, "one more piece of trash, one less… It doesn't matter, should I leave you the car? Or will you get there on your own?"
"We'll get there, Rick, you keep the car," Sher replied meekly again, accompanying her words with an energetic nod, but in the gray watercolors of her eyes, a certain fermentation of thoughts was already reflected. And these thoughts were very pleasant.
"Waimi, remind the cap about the spices, okay?" the doctor's eyes sparkled towards the Lethan. "And good luck to you," she smiled, impatiently fiddling with a strand of hair.
"Well, there!" the guy sighed dramatically, "and I wanted to ride a swoop… All right, let's go, cataloger, we'll spend our honestly plundered wealth."
The latter was addressed to the Lethan.
"We'll see each other soon, doc," he said to Sher, saluting her.
"Bye, cap," Sher said to Rick after him.
"Well, soon or not, we'll see each other," she smiled to herself.