"The Apartment Question."

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* The next day *

I devoted the morning to meditation. I had taken the academy course with the old man, but I still needed to refresh my memory on all the required topics. Getting a diploma was one of the goals that I had set for myself many years ago, and now, on the exam day, I tried to pay the utmost attention to passing it.

When the time came, the timer on the datapad notified me, and, rising, I confidently looked at my reflection in the mirror. I looked relatively confident, just a little tired. I checked my memory again when I had finally calmed down - it seemed like I had only recently finished classes with the old man, so nothing had had time to go out of my head. I had a cup of tea, and then I waited for Shiay, and then we went to the university. I couldn't find a place to put the child, so I took him with me- he couldn't sit still anyway.

The required auditorium was found quickly - I still hadn't forgotten the layout. Since today was the last day before classes began, there were occasional students in the corridors who cast interested glances at Shia, who, of course, due to his racial background, looked rather unusual.

Inside the auditorium, the dean appeared, along with the economics professor. My attention was immediately drawn to me:

- Ah, Mr. Skywalker. I didn't really believe you were you until the last moment," the Dean said instead of greeting me. - You know, that incident on Mandalore had bad consequences. The deaths of two students are a good reason to protest the Duchess.

- I hope she wasn't pressured," I let Shia go, "we were just getting a dialogue going. And we've only just begun to trust each other-if that word can be applied to politics.

- No, of course," the dean denied, "everything is within reason. I'm sorry, this is probably not the topic you want to talk about," the dean lowered his eyes, "I should probably go...

- No need," I shook my head, "Ali and I, we loved each other, but it's been a long time ... at least for me.

The dean only paid attention to Shia hiding behind my back.

- Who's that with you?

- Oh, that's Shia Skywalker, my son. As I just said, it's been a long time... for me.

The Dean was seriously surprised, but immediately softened.

- Oh, wonderful. I hope you want your son to have the same excellent education that you have.

- Are you hinting at enrollment? - I raised an eyebrow. - It's too soon. Do you mind if he stays here for a while? I have no one to leave him with...

- Not at all," the dean snapped, "are you ready to start the exam?

- Sure," I nodded. The man handed me a datapad, and I transferred the funds for taking the exam early. When he took the clipboard back, he nodded and looked at the economics teacher:

- I'll leave you to it, good luck! - and walked away.

And then... the instructor was not as verbose as the dean. He quickly took out a terminal and put it on the table. A grid of numbers appeared above the terminal.

- You know the rules," he either asked or affirmed, "Good luck.

I poked one of the squares as before. The virtual ticket unfolded over the table. Subject: public finance, in detail - peculiarities of lending to organizations in commercial banks.

- A good ticket, - commented the teacher, - you have five minutes to prepare it.

- At least in two words, explain, - I asked. - Otherwise I could write you a book...

- The book is not necessary, - grinned the teacher, - describe the differences from the lending to individuals, especially in terms of documentation.

I sat down to prepare. Five minutes, and the answer dictated to the professor for about twenty minutes. After all, getting credit is a serious operation and had its own laws. On collateral, on documents, on requirements to the bank, and their own limits.

My first course was a bummer - he asked a few clarifying questions, and that was it. No sooner had I rejoiced at my first evaluation, than the economist left and the lawyer came...

They kept me busy for at least four hours. Shia had long since been released, along with his secretary, for a tour of the university, and I was suffering. They earned their money honestly - lawyer, manager, accountant, programmer, financier...

Towards the end I was worn out, although compared to the old man they were still very, very undemanding. But there was responsibility here. With a perfect memory, I had a hard time passing all my exams. I got the highest score, which was supposed to open the door to my future career. The local diplomas did not have "red" status - they were divided into three classes depending on the quality of the exam - first, second, and third. The first was flawless passing, with all the highest grades; the second, passing even one subject worse; and the third, everything else. For obvious reasons, there was one first-grade diploma per several thousand students a year. Slightly more often it was the second and most common. This practice was considered common to all national universities. By the way, I found out in my spare time that Padme has a second-class degree. That's very, very good. I love smart girls!

After the execution, I left the auditorium and gladly visited the rector, where I received the coveted card. The diploma had already been registered and was valid in the country. It was wonderful!

Finding Shia, I took him in my arms and returned to the ship. It was time to say goodbye to Alderaan! This planet brought back sad memories, and I didn't want to stay here in any way. Shia, also tired from the excursion, quickly fell asleep. We sailed onward into space!

The morning finally put everything in its place. After a good night's sleep, I, in good spirits, steered the ship toward Correlia. It was the planet I needed in order to finally let go of the past and begin to look into the future.

It was a quick trip to Correlia - while Erdva was in the cabin, I went to the kitchen and cooked breakfast for myself and my son - I was trained enough to cook something more acceptable, edible. This skill came in handy for a lonely space traveler.

After eating breakfast together, I finally got down to my training:

- Shia, let's get to training. You have a lot to learn. Let's go," I pulled him into the hold, where there was the most space.

- And what are we going to learn? - The boy did not understand.

- I took out one of the training droids I had in my possession and launched it, blindfolding the boy. - You can have your choto. Try to beat off with it.

Shioto wore it on his belt. Turning on the short blade, he intercepted it with a reverse grip and stood up, waiting to attack...

The boy was hitting back the shots pretty well, though there were some misses - it took a while to get used to the small blade. Since the gyromomentum was directly proportional to the length of the arc, the thirty centimeter light dagger, unlike the sword, allowed to wield much faster even without involving force. The droid circled around the boy some more, but using his senses, Shi'ai always kept his face toward the droid.

- Not bad," I commented, "Toshi is a good teacher. Let's try with two..." I pulled out the second droid and released it. It was no longer possible to keep facing the target. The droids circled around, and Shia was caught off guard a few times.

- Move," I urged, "work the legs. Standing still deprives you of mobility. Try to see not only the shots but where they're going, and adjust.

- I can't! - Shia disagreed.

- Yes, you can. It just takes practice, which is what we do. Don't stop.

I watched him try to fight the droids for another half an hour. Sometimes very successful, sometimes not so much. What can you do - architects aren't genetic, they're a force. And the children of architects will not necessarily have their abilities, though they will still stand out from the gray masses. It didn't take me long to learn how to fend off the two droids Qui-Gon had set on me.

Time flew faster in Shia's company - and at the same time I had time to devote to the baby. After that, however, I had to poke around in the settings of his datapad, which I presented to him, to adjust the "parental control" filters. Holonet, like any network, consisted of not the most pleasant resources. I had to cut all the porn from the network, leaving only erotica, and not too hot, as well as a few other types of resources.

We arrived, whether it was long or short, and the ship was in the Corlian sector. Erdva gave us the message over the speakerphone. I sat in the cabin and after having waited for my boat I sat down and thought that I would have to go to Mandalore. And with the duchess will not hurt to talk - she probably already thinks that she got rid of the obligations and grabbed luck by the tail...

Having grinned at my thoughts I sent the ship towards the planet.

Shia came to the cabin too and climbed into the co-pilot's chair, watching my manipulations. I wasted no time, quickly sketched a route to the shipyard where I had left my "yacht" and turned to Erdva:

- You lead the way, I'll just report back.

- No problem, Captain," the droid replied.

- Dad, can Erdva drive a ship?

- Yes, Shia, he can, and a lot," I nodded, "come on, we need to get ready to leave.

To all the questions like "where are we going" and the like, I answered cryptically, "you'll see. After dressing quickly in decent clothes and following Shia, I was finally able to wait for the landing. In the hold, Shia started pestering me with questions again, but I kept my mouth shut.

The ship landed on the landing pad and the ramp in front of us lowered. That finished Erdw's work, and the droid hurriedly followed us out.

After checking my money and documents, I stepped onto the concrete of the landing pad. It was a long way from the capital-a typical backwater, except for the dozens of gigantic hangars three hundred meters high on the side. The air was unusually fresh and smelled of morning dew-it was early morning in Correlia. The sun rose over the horizon and illuminated the sides of the hangars, three gigantic oblong hangars on the ground. Beneath them were purely utilitarian structures of gray concrete. I had left my ship in one of these hangars in the shipyard. Shia looked at this scenery with wide-open eyes.

- Are you coming? - I hurried him up and headed in the direction of the administration of this shack. The boy followed me, for he could not keep up with my wide steps on foot.

It took me more than ten minutes to get there - I overestimated the proximity of the boathouses - their size seemed really fantastic up close. It was only when I got to the gatehouse that I realized how big it really was. But, considering that my "yacht" fit inside, it was nothing strange. Together with Shia I walked through the door that opened - there wasn't much space inside - a guard, a turnstile, a gun detector frame... That was it. It was easy to get through - I showed the guard the contract for the repair of the yacht and they let us in immediately. But inside helped Erdva navigate - I took Shiay by the hand and myself followed the droid, which, as can easily be guessed, downloaded the map and laid out the route. We met some workers along the way-a dozen men, and many more droids. There were all sorts - secretary droids, janitors, loaders, workers, astrodroids, and even guard droids. Shia was looking around with genuine curiosity, while I just followed Erdva, trying not to get lost.

After passing through the industrial zones, we came to a rather large building-I remembered it from my last visit-that was the administration building.

Despite the early morning, everyone was in their seats - the head of the repair dock was sitting in his office. He reacted to my appearance with an undisguised desire to go to sleep for an hour more - he suppressed a yawn and put aside the cup of local "coffee" and asked:

- What can I do for you?

- Hello, you probably didn't recognize me," I smiled, "Anakin Skywalker.

- Anakin... Anakin..." the man began to remember, "right! - he finally remembered and looked at me again. Your brother?

- No, I'm me. By the way, I can tell you an interesting story, - I smiled, and sat down on the chair without asking. The man did not answer, only took a cup of coffee, and began to sip it. I understood it as attention and told part of the truth:

- "There was the matter of my being attacked on Mandalore.

- I heard," he nodded, "almost got my order taken away.

- During the attack, they damaged my hyperdrive. More specifically, the circuits responsible for the relativistic flow of time. All of this led to a serious disturbance during the jump and...

- И? - the man stepped forward.

- I was thrown back a few years. Six years to be exact.

- No way! - he didn't believe me.

- Maybe, maybe, - I shrugged, - my documents were restored to me. I am me, alive and well.

- And if I can get your hyperdrive to study? - Asked the Director, "Such cases are rare, but back in time...

- However, it did happen. Anyway, I'm me, and now I've come for my yacht.

- Ah, yes, the yacht," the man smiled, which caused wrinkles around his eyes, "a second..." he quickly typed something on the terminal, and then got up, "shall we go and see?

- I don't think so," I said, "I'd like to see the blueprints.

- There are blueprints, descriptions and anything else you might need on the boat's computers. It's not a problem, especially since you sent us the basis.

We stood up and continued talking on the go.

- How much do I owe you for the work?

- Another four million. You can hire a crew from us, but you'll have to find your own.

- It's not a problem," I shook my head as I entered the hangar.

We entered a truly gigantic room - it's hard to imagine, an entire microcosm. Far away, under the ceiling were the features of the elevators, and in the center stood a yacht. A half kilometer long... it looked a little clumsy on its landing legs. Up close, the thing was, to put it mildly, overwhelming in size.

- Here's your beauty," the administrator commented, "removed the combat rooms, replaced the reactors, new hyperdrives, powerful shields. First class furnishings, as well as a swimming pool and a conference room, as you requested...

- Yes, yes," I'd already forgotten what I'd asked for, and I didn't want to have to remember because Ali and I were making the requirements together.

- What class of hyperdrive? - I asked.

- One. Reserve six. Unfortunately, it's impossible to find a higher class for these ships.

- That's not a problem," I brushed it aside, "I'm fine with the job.

- You will not examine? - surprised the administrator, - still...

- No, no need," I brushed it off, "if there's anything wrong, I'll make it up to you.

- As you wish," the administrator was a little offended, "sign it..." he handed me a clipboard with the contract. I signed everything that was required and transferred the required amount to the account. After that, all I had to do was take off.

- Are the droids included? - I asked before the boss left.

- One thousand R2, fifty secretaries... and a few other things. There were battle droids in the hold...

- Oh, yes," I remembered about the Sith fighters, "is something wrong?

- We restored them and reprogrammed them a little. My advice to you, though, is to sell them to collectors. These machines are rare these days.

- All right, I'll consider it," I nodded, noticing that Shia had disappeared. He was far away from me, on the other side of the ship. He made it, you little parasite!

Together we went to the yacht. It welcomed us with a completely unmilitary, spacious hold and wide corridors, lit by a soft white light. I led Shia by the hand through the yacht. A lot had changed since the time I'd flown her, cursing the slow hyperdrive and hoping to see Ali sooner. And I have changed about as much as this ship-not much outwardly, but inwardly I have become much more serious and focused-the weight of responsibility and the bitterness of the experience make you look at the world in a slightly different way. The corridors became wider - in some places there were platforms, passages, stairs... but in general the architecture remained the same - straight corridors through the whole hull, living and other important rooms on the top, and below - cargo holds and holds with supplies.

- What kind of ship is that, Dad? - Shia asked, distracting me from my thoughts.

- Is it? A yacht. It used to be a Sith cruiser, but now it's a yacht.

- A Sith? - Shiai wondered. - But then where did you get a ship?

- Tell you everything," I grinned, "I just found it and made some repairs. And the repairs have already been completed here.

Where did you find it, how did you find it, how did you repair it, where did the Sith go, no, I didn't find any Sith holocrons, or anything!

Tired of the questions, I immediately headed for the bridge. Now there were turbolifts leading there from several places at once. Upstairs, just below the bridge, were the private quarters. Oh, that's what I wanted - the carpets on the floor were made of natural wool of some kind of animals, with a spacey dark purple pattern. I didn't sense any chemistry in them, so the color was natural; where could they find such purple animals? Though what am I saying? Galactica - Ikea multiplied by Auchan to the tenth power - you can really find everything here!

Private cabins were different from the rest of the ship - as I said, carpets on the floor, paintings on the walls, seemingly archaic furniture made of expensive wood... In the galaxy it is common to use metal everywhere - wooden furniture is too short-lived. That's why it is considered a special chic, emphasizing the difference between formal and utilitarian design and home comfort. Tables, sofas, upholstered in leather - rooms under a hundred square meters. Or rather, halls.

From one large hall many doors led to the bedrooms, as well as to other private rooms - a bathroom, a small pool, a training room, a laboratory ... I looked into the rooms - they were the same - a large room, a bed, which was not so much a shag, but rather a hint of a major orgy, tables, the obligatory aquarium with some kind of fish, and also a carpet on the floor. The walls were lavishly decorated with natural canvases by not-so-famous artists.

All this was more than comfortable for several people to live in.

- Here, this is where we'll live..." I commented to Shia, "I don't have a home on the planet, but it means I'll be living on the biggest yacht in the galaxy.

- Cool! - In his usual manner, the boy commented. - And where is my room?

- It's your choice," I shrugged, "you're old enough.

Shia's smile is unusual - which I've just noticed - the vertical stripes on his cheeks accentuate it, and his fangs are even slightly longer than human ones... I left him here and went to the bridge, amused by my son's little joy.

A separate turbolift led to the bridge, directly from the main hall.

Once upstairs, I looked around - the bridge had changed a lot. Instead of bulky computers there were compact terminals, military posts were removed, and there were only five chairs - the pilot, co-pilot, navigator-communicator, XO, captain. In fact, there was no need for more. There was one man sitting on the bridge, and when I approached, he turned around. The pilot turned out to be a woman in her forties, with strange hair.

- Mr. Skywalker? - She turned to me," What can I do for you?

- Is everyone on the ship?

- There's a transfer crew of fifteen. Everyone's at their posts, waiting for instructions.

- Good," I sat down in the captain's chair, quickly sketching a route to Mandalore. Characteristically, with a couple of digressions to the smuggler trails. - Prepare the ship for departure. I've entered the itinerary.

- Yes, sir," she said more calmly, looking at the route, clearly not typed by a novice, since only smugglers and pirates know such cuts and trails. - Will you be on the bridge?

- A little," I smiled with a fringe of my lips.

The woman turned back to her console and began her takeoff. Standard procedures - you could die of boredom. Five minutes later, the doors of the boathouse above the ship parted and the way up was opened. We began our ascent. When the ship was in orbit, I asked the pilot:

- What about supplies, water, fuel?

- Fuel tanks are full, the rest is purely nominal, - she answered without turning around, - we should take some more.

- We will," I nodded, watching the hyperdrive activate. When the ship dived into hyperspace, I did not want to sit in front of the lady and went to my room.

Shi'ai took his pick of the first room, and he found himself in it, climbing on the furniture with a passion. Nothing new, of course, but he had to go everywhere!

- Did you find anything? - I asked him, drawing his attention.

- No, nothing," the boy said sadly.

- If we have time, we'll buy what we need. Besides, it's not very Jedi, you know," I grinned.

Together we continued to explore our new home. Since I would have no reason to build any more boats, this one would remain permanently - there was plenty of room for modifications.

Under this level there was another, and another... in total the "master" part of the ship had four levels - on the top there were living quarters, on the second - rooms with a little uncertain meaning and a more original layout - eight spacious rooms. It was possible to make living rooms, if necessary. The third level was a dining room for a dozen people and a conference room. There would have been no shame in receiving guests here - tables made of heavy wood, similar chairs, instead of carpet, a covering similar to parquet, made of wood, giving a little green color and pictures on the walls - landscapes and still lifes. It was... cozy.

The last, lower floor appeared to be occupied by personal servants' quarters--there were relatively small rooms, ten rooms, as well as a common household, with access to a spacious kitchen.

I, of course, had no prejudice against droids, but a droid is not a living thing. There are rare exceptions when a droid is given enough processing power to develop a full-fledged personality, but even then the droid will follow the program rigorously. Erdva was a full-fledged AI, capable of interpreting even a direct order in his own way, but in most cases... I'd prefer live servants. A droid can be reprogrammed, and I will notice danger only when it threatens me directly, and a reasonable one cannot hide unkind intentions, even with perfect acting talent. Unless it's someone stronger than me, there are only three options, and they all live on Mortis...

As the ship flew and Shia settled in, I took my datapad and began to sketch out a list of maid candidates. A cook, an assistant cook, a waiter, a teacher for Shia - the boy had to be taught not only swinging a sword, but also the simplest subjects - mathematics, physics, history, and other school subjects. As well as a couple of people to work on his appearance and clothes. I didn't care about that, but kids grow up so fast, and besides, if Shia's already very imposing appearance is emphasized by the right choice of clothes...

Candidates, I think, could be easily recruited on Mandalore - not everyone there should be orthodox, stern warriors, there should be ordinary citizens.

It takes a couple of days to get to Mandalore - even with a shortcut. Good thing the ship has a new identifier now, I won't have to explain the presence of a warship in private hands.

By the way, I never had time to give the ship a name. Sitting in the evening on the couch, with a tablet in my hands, I was choosing a name for such a controversial ship. All the pathosy names were already sorted out, so I had to wriggle out. After much deliberation, I settled on one of the lines of the old Je'daii code - either "the guiding fire of light" or "the mystery of darkness. A three-word name is too much, so I settled on "mystery of darkness," especially since the ship was built in an unknown shipyard and used to belong to the Sith, which is symbolic...