Chapter 7

The girl knelt down and bowed her head in front of the hologram that appeared. Communication went through many repeaters, which is why the image constantly twitched with ripples of interference. But even that couldn't hide the power that the Sith Lord exuded. It seemed to her that the darkness itself hides the person's face. Zola was almost certain that if the caller removed the hood, she would still see nothing but the tip of his chin and possibly amber eyes.

"My Lord, my task is accomplished," the girl tried to say as firmly as possible, but her voice let her down.

"Wonderful," the altered voice rumbled over the crackle of the static. -"I will review your detailed report later. And now, would you kindly, briefly and in your own words."

"Yes, my Lord. Jedi Knight Nemak is of no interest to you. He's not dangerous at all. Weakling."

"What about his student?" the figure moved.

"Young, naive, stupid. Immensely devoted to his mentor. In the future, most likely, he will become a good swordsman. Already showing great potential."

"Wonderful. Something else?"

"Yes, my Lord. Looks like the silly Jedi has fallen head over heels in love with me. Apparently, I was his first woman. He tried so hard in sparing with his Padawan that he even succumbed to rage."

"Well, that might be interesting," the figure wrapped in robe paused, and the girl leaned forward against her will.

"Let's not rush," Lord pronounced the verdict. "Let them travel, see with their own eyes what their beloved Republic is doing in the outlying worlds. When the time comes, I will tell you what to do."

"I obey, my Lord," it didn't even occur to her to doubt the right of the Lord to give her any orders.

"You did a good job. I am satisfied. The money will be sent to you today. Take a break for a couple of weeks, after which you will receive a new task."

"Your will is the law, my Lord," Zola replied servilely to the void.

* * *

The body beating in agony, engulfed by Force lightning, was not able, not only to scream, but even to wheeze. Only the call signal that came to the long-distance terminal saved the teenager from death. The woman shrugged her shoulders in displeasure and stopped torturing the victim. Spitting at the convulsively trembling body, she swung and with a kick of her foot turned the lips that looked so much like cakes into bloody pancakes. If the unfortunate man still had teeth, he would certainly have lost them. "A worthless weakling, just like your teacher," the sadist swore, involuntarily touching the remains of the ear.

"My Lord," the woman knelt down, bowing her head and activating the link.

"I see, I distracted you from your work," the figure in the robes, with the hood pulled down, sneered contemptuously.

"What's the job, sir?" Worthless padawan. Just like his teacher. Breaking him was a breeze. Now he is more an animal than intelligent being.

"Not such a weakling is his master."

"He just got lucky," the woman jerked her hand away from the remnants of the ear.

"It happens," the Sith did not argue. -"Are you ready for a new assignment?"

"Of course, sir," the sadistic woman grinned in anticipation. -"Moreover, I have a doggy," she squinted in the direction of the former Padawan curled up in a fetal position.

"A faithful dog is useful, but rabid dogs are shot."

"Don't worry, my lord, mine is faithful."

"You know better, you converted him, you worked with him. The advance payment and the file with the task will come in half an hour. When can you depart?"

"As soon as I put this piece of meat in a vat of bacta."

"Wonderful," the Sith Lord nodded and hung up.

"You lucky, bastard,"- the woman breathed, and hit the former Padawan a couple of times in the ribs. Then, picking up a piece of meat unable to even moan by the hair, she dragged it to the medbox and threw it into a vat of healing solution. "Rushed too much,"- she gritted her teeth, taking a fleeting glance at the victim's crotch.

* * *

Having finished communicating with fellow subordinates, Darth Sidious, better known to the general public as Chancellor Palpatine, threw off his stupid hood. This tribute to traditions and original fashion always irritated him, but he had to comply. "With whom do you have to work with,"- he sighed, massaging his temples. "Yeah, the dark ones have degenerated, no words,"- Sidious muttered, wearily closing his eyes. Normal assistants in daylight nowhere to be found. One complete sadist and maniac who could only be used to a very limited extent. The second weakling, whose only skill and dignity is Force concealment. "As if an assassin she turned up,"- snorted the Sith. She had found some third-rate holocron, and she couldn't fully master it either. But she thinks she is who knows what. The rest of the assistants did not go far from these two fools.

I wish Dooku had already checked all the information slipped to him. After all, there is not a word of a lie! Only the truth and a minimum of accents. "It's okay, I'll wait,"- Sidious encouraged himself. But then there will be someone to push the turnover. Of course, I will have to spend some time breaking down a new student, nevertheless, those holocrons with which the Jedi is now communicating are not quite what I need. No, they know how to rinse those brains notably, but everything else, alas, is not to them.

However, no worthy ghost of the Force Lords of the past would cooperate with him. Rather, they would lead their own game. "No, I'll manage,"- Sidious massaged his temples again and pulled on his hood. The followers of the dark side are, of course, good, but Palpatine did not particularly count on them. Anyway, his plans included getting rid of not only the eternal ideological enemy in the person of the Jedi, but also significantly reducing the ideological brothers. Darth Sidious did not want to share power at all, and therefore preferred to strangle competitors in the bud. Even if they could become them only by an incredible coincidence. The dark lords never accepted half baked dark siders. It was against their nature.

* * *

The stars stretched into a tunnel of light became themselves again, and a ball of the planet appeared in the viewport. Green on a yellow background, under a haze of milky white clouds. "Straight pistachio ice cream with sweet cream," I purred to myself and mentally licked my lips. There were principally no control over the orbit here. Nevertheless, we, following the regulations, acted strictly according to the instructions. In other words, we hailed the planet on our own.

"Unknown ship, name yourself and the purpose of your visit,"- came the long-awaited answer from the natives.

"Go ahead, padawan," the master nodded to me.

"Cargo-passenger vessel L-3353 Hailing Pif-Paf. Rogue Trader… Irm," I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, somehow missing the right moment. -"Requesting permission to land and carry out commercial activities."

"Wait," was my answer.

"Understood. I'm taking the parking orbit."

"Looks like we're not very welcomed here," the teacher chuckled.

"They're just afraid that we won't be who we say we are," I shrugged.

"Yes, I've been told about this more than once," the mentor nodded.

So, while the locals were actively were hiding all the valuables, we indulged in idleness and telling stories. Rather, the teacher shared information gleaned from drinking buddies. Funny in some places and useful too.

"Rogue Trader Irm, you are allowed to land, we are sending you the coordinates," finally natives graced us to get in touch.

"Acknowledged, I'm starting re-entry. Pif, let's go," - I give a command to the ship that violates all the rules and instructions, but, at the same time, much faster.

"I'm starting a maneuver," the AI reported, and the teacher just chuckled and began to re-read the information on the planet.

Flashed like a fireball through the atmosphere. Epically extinguished the speed and landed on a pale semblance of a runway.

"Ain't they modest here," the mentor stated the obvious, looking around the rather dull landscape.

- I would say rather poor, - not that I argued, but, let's say, spoke about the picture observed through the porthole.

Instead of a normal runway, there were plates somehow fitted to each other, and even those could not boast of their integrity. It's as if they used the most ordinary concrete here. The cosmodrome itself was completely unfenced. It was located on the outskirts, apparently, of the capital, the appearance of which made a rather depressing impression. I even experienced something like an attack of nostalgia from a past life. Such a county town, saturated with melancholy and in a state of eternal depression. Here even something like an old analogue of an old soviet block of flats can be observed. The control tower, crowned with a dish-shaped antenna, seems to have been out of use for a long time. In summary, to complete the picture, only some kinds of living creatures grazing right on the runway were missing.

"Master, are we still in our galaxy?" I couldn't resist asking.

"Let's hope so, padawan," the mentor encouraged me dismissively, only there was not enough confidence in his voice.

We were brought out of the state of contemplative detachment by Pif, who reported that something like a motorcade was hurrying in our direction.

"Let's go, let's meet our guests," the sensei waved his hand.

"Uh-huh," I twitched my ear, thinking that it wouldn't hurt to buy a blaster. I did not like the crowd of locals hurrying towards us. It's not even about them themselves, but about weapons resembling machine guns.

The guest, who got out of the executive class flyer, with a mixture of a skullcap and a turban on his head, gave birth to a long welcome speech. The short meaning of which boiled down to the fact that he was glad, happy, and in general, all his life he dreamed of seeing such wonderful us. This was followed by an invitation to the local government house, where, it turns out, they have been waiting for us for a long time and with impatience. Naturally, we did not refuse. Force clearly said that behind all this babbling there is not a request, but an order. However, we were not in any particular danger. More precisely, it could have been quite easily avoided, to mutual joy and our own benefit.

"Thank you for the honour, sir. We humble merchants are rarely honored like this." I bowed a little more than needed, causing Comrade Haruka to smile contentedly.

"Unfortunately, merchants are rare guests in our harsh world," the government spokesman sighed.

"Should we present some gifts," the teacher showed inappropriate initiative. It was not at the right time that he remembered the short course in diplomacy given to the younglings.

"Of course not!"- Haruk was outraged. "Do we look like some kind of savages?!"

"I apologize for my assistant," I immediately intervened.

"He is still too young and inexperienced. Costs of education in the capital," he added, exerting a slight mental influence.

"I can feel it,"- the guest snorted. "Snobbery,"- he added with a grimace.

"Youth passes quickly, but stupidity is perfectly cured by hard work."

"Golden words,"- Haruk nodded. "If you don't need to change, let's hurry. We are in the harvest season, after all. There is a lot of work."

"And the time in the day, unfortunately, is limited. I understand you perfectly. We are ready to go immediately."

"I don't think you understand us,"- the negotiator muttered as he got into the car. "For you, time is just money, but for us, it's life,"- he explained, realizing that he had been heard.

"We have brought a food processing complex, I believe that many people will survive past this year."

"The universe has heard our prayers,"- Haruk said sincerely. "You can't even imagine how many times we asked guesting traders to bring us such equipment."

"But they always found reasons not to, because then they wouldn't be able to buy your lives cheaply."

"Yes, you are quite right, Comrade Irm."

The rest of the journey passed in silence. Haruk was thinking about something of his own, judging by the echoes coming from the Force, he was reminiscing. Apparently, these memories were not pleasant. We, with the silent mentor, looked at the city passing behind the glass. It made a Creepy impression. As if in an abandoned, almost extinct village, where there were a couple of old people and a dozen collapsed houses, we have gotten into. And we managed to do it in late autumn. An incredible and depressing contrast with the worlds seen before. Despite the bright sunny day, there was a feeling that we were enveloped in a grey cloud. Wrapped myself in a cocoon of Force and squeezed me as tightly as possible. It got a little easier. The feeling of melancholy, hopelessness and horror before the coming drought, experienced by the locals, did not go away, but had distanced, became more subdued. I always thought harvest day was a reason for festivities. A pleasant job, after which a long-awaited rest awaits. Yes, in most worlds it is, but not in this one. Not in this at all. I even had to strain to suppress the instinctively rushing out growl.

* * *

The Government House impressed me because it looked more like some kind of bunker-fortress. As Haruk explained, it was here that the main supplies of food and water were stored. Circumstances had their detrimental effect on the architecture. The teacher and I could only shake our heads in understanding. After all, it is quite clear that it was erected not out of a whim, but out of severe necessity. Horror, and no words. The interior decoration also did not impress with luxury or some kind of decor. Everything is purely functional and aimed at defence. Again, the question flashed through my head - are we all still in the same galaxy far, far away, or have we already been transferred to the world of some kind of post-apocalypse?

"Hello, fellow merchants,"- a man in his forties, sitting at the head of the table, greeted us. "I'm Neul Hunt, Prime Minister,"- he introduced himself, folding his hands like a house. What immediately caught my eye was calluses and dirt under the nails. In general, there were no pampered personalities among those present. Much more, the local fathers of the nation were like hard workers from a construction site who bend their backs all day under the scorching sun.

"What did you bring us, with what have you had come?"- more than transparently hinted at the unwillingness to waste time Neul.

"Have a good harvest and an easy season,"- I bow my head slightly. "My name is Irm, and this is my assistant Nemak," I jerk my ear towards the teacher. "We brought a full-cycle complex for processing agricultural products. It allows one to get food concentrates, produces briquettes, and even make a limited selection of rations. Also, our ship is equipped with a workshop for the repair of equipment. The upper deck is crammed with parts and supplies for the moisture harvesters. Are you interested in this product?"

"Why ask a question to which you know the answer?"- Neul Hunt smiled, unable to contain his feelings.

"Out of courtesy,"- I shrug. "Let's start discussing the terms, shall we?"

"Yes."

"Fine, then let's start with the basics. As I understand it, you would like to pay with agricultural products?"

"That would be the most acceptable condition for us," the chairman did not argue with the obvious.

"In that case, I propose a fairly simple exchange. We carry out the unfolding and installation of the complex, and you provide it with raw materials. As soon as our ship is fully loaded with the results of its work, it will become your property."

"We need to consult,"- the chairman cast a glance at his colleagues.

"Of course, we understand everything. Should we wait outside?"

"Optional, you can just sit by the window for now. There will be a sunset soon, believe me, on our planet, this is an unforgettable sight."

"We will graciously enjoy it."

Hunt gave a short order and, after a couple of minutes, we had the opportunity to watch the sun fall over the horizon, munching on local delicacies. The foremost didn't impress me much, and the latter, by virtue of nature, didn't impress me either. No, undoubtedly, the local analogue of dwarf melons, peaches, apples, grapes and some kind of blackberry-strawberry mixture were very good, but only - all this is not for me. Meat, meat, and once more meat. Which, alas, no one was going to serve. It makes sense, we're not at a dinner party here. In general, of course, it's funny that they didn't shrug us out the door. They have a peculiar relationship here, well, or special traditions. If you start to understand the intricacies of each individual civilization, it's not that life wouldn't be enough, you'll simply go nuts.

However, local rulers were not eager to let strangers into their affairs. They spoke almost in a whisper, and even some kind of barrier was turned on. Only my hearing, slightly enhanced by the Force, allowed me to quite clearly parse their brief but very emotional discussion. Actually, the main fear of the members of the government was the possibility of being left without a harvest. It's nice, damn it, that, first of all, they thought about their compatriots. However, what else was to be expected? Two hundred and something thousand there, everyone is in full view and everyone knows everything about one another. Damn, they are surviving with the entire world here! What the heck with corruption or something like that? Allocate Senators of the Republic here for an internship, what a case would it have been?

"Acceptable,"- Hunt nodded, after their group had done some rough, but, in principle, fairly accurate calculations and made sure that they themselves had more than enough left. And given the fact that they will be able to save all this ...

"Very well, in that case, we only need to resolve one issue. Will we organize equipment repair services centrally, under your patronage, or will we work independently?"

"What do you want to receive as payment in the first case?"

"I want bank credits and Hutt peggats anyway."

"We're not sure we can collect enough in the currencies you requested."

"For the sake of establishing mutually beneficial relations,"- I purr, supposedly thoughtfully, -"I agree to compensate for the difference with republican loans, but at the appropriate rate."

"For the sake of a "mutually beneficial relationship","- Hunt smiles, -"we will try to find money in the currency you wished," he unequivocally looks at his neighbour on the right, and that only nods grudgingly.

I don't know what undercurrents they have here, and, frankly, I don't want to know. Anyway, I'm unlikely to work further with this planet. Let the brothers spin around here and delve into local realities.

"Since the agreements in principle have been reached, I propose to celebrate them with a modest dinner,"- the chairman suggested.

"We will gladly share food with you,"- I bow to the whole honest company. "Will there be meat?"- I smile, slightly showing sharp teeth.

"Absolutely," Hunt chuckled knowingly.

* * *

The production complex was deployed in the basements of the government house, which is logical. So it is protected from the vicissitudes of fate, and closer to the source of raw materials. In truth, drones had to work on it for the first time. Locals hadn't had any required specialists. Rather, they were simply afraid of ruining such valuable equipment, and I couldn't wait until they read the instructions and mastered the training programs. So I had to get out in such an original way. Again, time was limited. The harvest season was coming to an end.

The teacher walked around the town for a couple of days. He had tried the local chatter. Became disappointed by the general despondency and monotony of topics of interest natives had, and so he occupied the training room. He could not help me with work, simply because of the lack of the necessary skills and knowledge. Bring that, pass over this and so on, just don't get in the way, and there was enough without him. I, along with the droids and with all possible help from the capital's specialists, repaired equipment in four shifts. They brought so much junk of various kinds that we had to use a control tower for its storage organisation. In connection with the emergency, it got to the point that I even relegated self-education to the background.

But just before departure, a big surprise awaited us. As soon as we loaded and secured the last container of food briquettes, a notable crowd, led by the local government, showed up. All in all, the reason to celebrate or not - but the solemn farewell, with the assignment of the title of honorary citizen of the glorious planet Padishaal, took place. It's nice when your work is appreciated. Give the Force, someday I might visit this world. However, it's not worth guessing. In any case, it's enough for me that I clearly know that they won't have trouble for the next hundred years. How it will turn there further - this is unknown to me. I hope they will have more good things in the future than bad ones.

"Reports to partners have been sent. Letters of recommendation are attached,"- Pif reported as soon as we got out of the gravity well.

"Fine. Heading for the subsector's capital planet."

"Executing. Great parting speech, Mirr-dono."

"Thanks, Pif. What is the teacher doing out there?"

"Sits on the ceiling near the cabin door. I'm assuming he's ambushing you."

"Ah, and here I though what the strange sensations in the Force…"

"Ready for the transition to hyperlight speed."

"Jump!"

"Executing. Transition to hyperspace completed."

"Great. I will go and cheer up my mentor."

"Try to roll a little further away from the door, so the recording will turn out better."

"I promise nothing,"- I purred, removing my lightsaber from the belt. "Open,"- I command to the AI, getting ready to jump.

Vzzzghghh - the mentor's saber sweeps over my head. "Too late sensei!"- I yell, moving from a roll into a rapid acceleration. "Hod right there!" — rushes after me. "The best fight is the one that didn't exist at all, master!" - I remind what the teacher once said. "Good must be fully armed!"- Nemak freely interprets my words. "And we only have swords!"- I answer and use the wall to abruptly change direction. "If only there were blasters, you wouldn't have to run after me!"- I deflect the food box thrown into the back with telekinesis. In short, the training started off fun.

"And how did you know that I was waiting for you?" asked the mentor, sitting down on the rug.

"Asked Pif. There were painfully strange sensations in the Force,"- I take my place for meditation.

"Understood, I'll take it into account for the future,"- the teacher covers his eyes and begins to do breathing exercises.

"Me too, master,"- I renounce reality and begin to immerse myself in the Force.

"I have no doubt, padawan."

Afterwards, there was no time for disturbing the air. The dialogue went to a completely different level. Rather, it has shifted to another plane. We exchanged short mental images filled with information and sensations. We shared our thoughts, that carry our attitude to various issues and, here's a disturbance, containing emotions. However, for some inconsistencies with the code of the order in general and the path of the Jedi in particular, we, by tacit agreement, "scrapped" it long ago.

* * *

"And I thought we were in the dump before,"- I snorted, looking at the planet in the porthole.

"Maybe it's not so bad,"- the teacher shrugged. "Still, this world supplies a lot of industrial raw materials. Nearly the entire sector is provided by them."

- According to the certificate, half will be at most. They also live under domes there. They polluted the atmosphere in pursuit of big credits."

"They are not the first, they are not the last,"- the mentor remarked philosophically.

"That's what upsets me,"- Pif said somewhat unexpectedly.

As a matter of fact, on this our conversation somehow withered by itself. Then the local dispatcher got in touch - in general, the routine approach procedure began. Like a meteor pierced the grey-black sky, slowed down and slowly sailed towards the dome covering the capital. A hefty metal-plastic construction, reminiscent of a chain-link mesh with unclear cells. However, it is a good thing in some way. I would not like to see a gloomy sky in the place of the inhabitants, it painfully makes a depressing impression.

The flight ended at the alignment of the huge gateway of the local spaceport. An impressive tribute to gigantomania. The gates of the temple hangar didn't even stand anywhere close to it. Basically, it makes sense. From the planet, entire caravans are departing. Moreover, they consist of something like barges, about 800 meters each. Those will be more than the average cruiser. We were assigned a parking space near the dome itself, so that the landed people had the opportunity to observe droplets of acid rain drumming on the cloudy plastic. Or is it alkaline here? What's the difference! As the saying goes, "radish ain't sweeter than horseradish". It's all sad.

"Well, padawan. Here we are finally here,"- the mentor stated the obvious.

"Uh-huh. A striking contrast even with the worlds of the Middle Rim,"- I answer somewhat out of place, being impressed by the general atmosphere of the city, felt in the Force.

"Can you handle your commercial affairs yourself, or can you help?"- the teacher switches me to a business-like setting.

"I can handle it, master, I'm an honorary citizen now."

"Then I'll start collecting information,"- Nemak nods. It seems that he simply missed hiking and gatherings in cantinas, or maybe he just stagnated.

"Have a good walk, sensei."

In general, the mentor went on a drinking spree. I hope everything goes smoothly for him. I should go to the local City. Of course, all issues can be resolved remotely, but it's interesting to see another planet and appreciate the sentient people who inhabit it. Maybe it's not so bad here? Padishaal, for example, also made a very depressing impression at first, but when I delved deeper into local life, and looked into the minds of assistants and clients, I began to perceive everything in a completely different way. Still, the Force is far from a panacea. The Great One gives answers, but the trouble is, the one who interprets them is the one asking. However, it happens even without any Force. Few people can look at the same problem from different angles. Everyone prefers to interpret information in a way that is beneficial and convenient for them. It is rightly said that everyone has their own truth, but they often forget about the verity. That's why it has to wander around as a hanger. Nobody needs it. A pity.

Changed the Jedi robe for an average business-looking suit. Think that it was getting small. I'm growing like crazy. Tucked the ID card issued by the grateful people of Padishaal into my inner pocket. What do you want? An honorary citizen is not just a status, but also relevant document. Which makes me twice as old. Thanks to Pif, when the padishaalans contacted him to get my personal data to fill in the appropriate columns, he fussed. A smart and loyal AI is a very handy assistant, and just talking to him is often interesting. In short, solid pluses from such AI. In general, I got ready to go out into the big world, and, in fact, went into it. Why stretch things?

A cable wagon lane was laid directly from the cosmodrome to the city center. A brand new white and blue wagon, with a leather-like interior and huge panoramic windows, lifted me to a height of several hundred meters in just half a minute. After that, the rise became smoother, and it became possible to enjoy the views of skyscrapers. The first thing that caught my eye was the abundance of greenery on the upper floors. They were all buried in some kind of greenhouses and winter gardens. I even managed to see a couple of pools. Because of the artificial lighting, it was light and bright. "Maybe it's not so bad here?" - again visited me a timid question, filled with hope. The fact that part of the skyscrapers served as supporting columns to support the dome did not cause any special emotions or special interest. Marked the edge of consciousness rationalism, and turned my attention to the passengers.

Not only was it morning on the planet, but also the working week began. Natives hurried about their business, and most of them started it during the trip. Every second spoke on a communicator, and every first worked with a datapad. A projector installed in the wagon showed a hologram of a pretty announcer reading a news report. I just twitched my ear from them and snorted softly. Some direct news from the fields. Unless, instead of centners of grain and other milk yields, the lady informed about the number of ores mined, the volumes of alloys received, and the like. There was also something like a running line, where everything was duplicated, along the way diluted with stock quotes of local commodity giants. Interesting and unusual.

However, I clearly felt the dissonance of the external and internal. Behind the liveliness and bravado, under a touch of busyness and business fussiness, hidden behind fake-tan masks, were fears. Panic and horror sat in the soul of every passenger. They were all afraid of losing what they had to the point of trembling and convulsions. Appearing downstairs. Literally descend to the surface. Any of those sitting next to me was ready to do anything, just to continue every morning so it starts the same way as today. Fur involuntarily tried to rear up, and the claws showed out from the understanding that any of these cute townsfolk is ready to kill. One could not even stutter about such nonsense as lies, set-ups and walking on heads. Here it was the absolute norm. At least a third of the passengers were considering a way to spoil their neighbour and move up the career ladder a little more. Climbing higher is the goal and meaning of the existence of sentient beings who find themselves in a blue-and-white wagon, passing by the tops of skyscrapers immersed in greenery.

"And don't tell me, because of these Sith'in elections, I didn't even get to rest,"- the voice of a woman sitting next to me, distracted me from my thoughts, which was not the most pleasant in the world. "Yes, again they started dragging these squalors from the lower levels!"- the lady squealed. "Can you imagine, I waited a month to get into the sphere, to rest on the island, and they brought up a whole crowd of some orphans there!"- she stamped her foot. "It wasn't a rest in the end, but a sheer torment. All the time I had to keep an eye on my things, you never know with these descendants of whores and drug addicts what decease they had got!"- the inflamed passenger even waved her hand, almost knocking the tablet out of the neighbour's hands. In fact, it sobered her up. Apologizing, the woman concluded the conversation. She removed the communicator and, unhooking the datapad from her belt, began to poke her finger furiously at it. What struck me most about this short scene was the complete approval and acceptance of her words by all the other passengers. A slight dissonance was introduced only by the thoughts of several girls, and even then - there was only envy in half with gloating.

Having rounded another skyscraper, the cable wagon took me to the purpose of the visit, and at the same time to the local attraction. Two huge structures, either forming claws or intersecting horns at the base, propped up the highest point of the dome and served as a visible symbol of the power of the corporation that controlled the planet. "And this is just a branch,"- I twitched my ear in response to the thought that came to me. In fact, if you squint and use your imagination, you can see the company logo in these mega-skyscrapers. Either one of the architects who designed this miracle caved in, or the customer wanted it that way from the very beginning. In any case, it makes a strong impression. I would even say overwhelming. As if a titan. Symbolically. The heavy foundation of the base tramples the earth, and the horns hold the vault of heaven. Somehow it makes me feel disgusted from such associations. I bet that for the money that was spent on the construction of this thing, it was possible to put the ecology of the planet in order twice over.

"Good day, sir, how can I help you?"- the clerk jumped up to me, as soon as I crossed the threshold of a firm engaged in intermediary services in the field of trade.

"Nice one,"- I nod to the person with whom, in fact, I was travelling in the same wagon. I won't say that he was somehow radically different from everyone else, it's just that his thoughts and emotions clearly showed joy because of the new place of work. In a sense, I spontaneously received a recommendation.

As a matter of fact, this is what determined the choice of the office with which I was going to cooperate. No, of course, it was possible to register on the trading platform yourself, only all sorts of mandatory fees and registration of various permits and permits cost money. As a result, it would be a little cheaper than paying for the work of intermediaries. Moreover, I planned a one-time operation.

"I need help selling food produce. Basically - concentrates and briquettes, there is also a limited range of standard rations."

"We will be happy to take on the sale of your goods, sir. You can be assured that by the evening everything will be sold at the best prices."

"No doubt. I will also need help in acquiring the raw materials that are in demand. I plan to fly to the capital system of the sector."

"In that case, you should definitely pay attention to heavy metals. It is best to take ready-made alloys. They take up less space and cost more."

"I am limited by the finances that I will receive from the sale of food."

"That's not a problem, sir,"- the clerk nodded knowingly. — "Are you considering the option of passing cargo?"

"Quite,"- I moved the whiskers and leaned forward a little, experiencing something like the excitement of a hunter. It would be more accurate to say, having felt one of the companion.

"In that case, I will try to match you with an appropriate cargo of alloys and, perhaps, I will be able to get you a discount on the purchase of a part of the goods."

"In that case,"- I emphasized in my voice, "you can count on bonuses,"- I correctly understood the expression on the face and the intonation of the intermediary.

"Let's draw up a contract, and I'll start working immediately,"- the clerk smiled with full sincerity.

* * *

Having changed time for money, that is, having pushed the work to an intermediary, I contacted the teacher. I briefly reported and said that I was going to get acquainted with local attractions. To a perfectly reasonable question - "But are they any?"- I said that all my life I dreamed of visiting a water park. In response, I received meaningful grunts and a wish not to drown. Still, my feline nature pretty much misleads others. It's just that reasonable people feel that someone like me has no place in the water. Naive. By the way, I am an excellent swimmer and can even dive without any problems. To clear my conscience, I went to the local network and found the portal of the water park. Looks like the one the lady in the cable wagon was talking about. In any case, there was an artificial tropical island there. Like the queue for a month ahead, and even with exorbitant ticket prices. No, no, no, no, hell no, hell no. I'll get by somehow. I'd rather compare life at the top and at the bottom.

The cable wagon took me to the middle level of the city. It's just, there weren't any lower. "To put it mildly, unusual,"- I noted, standing at the edge of the site and "admiring" the fog swirling below. Not to say that it was particularly dense, but there was something like steam mixed with cigarette smoke and slightly dispelled by the wind. Only these peculiar clouds smelled of burnt plastic. Not so sharp even for my sense of smell, but quite noticeable. To be honest, I didn't have the slightest desire to descend into this suspension, and if it weren't for the vague sensations evoked by the Force, I would probably prefer to find another way to spend my time. So, inhale-exhaled reduced the sensitivity of the nose as best I could and went to the monorail station.

The grey paint of the wagon, peeling from time to time, hard plastic seats, the smell of sweat and fumes. A striking contrast with the blue and white wagons of the upper levels. Not that I expected to see something different here, but somehow I did not count on something so clearly bulging. Due to the fact that the morning had already ended, there were few passengers. Some late workers in filthy overalls and a flock of painted girls hurrying to study. Obeying my inner instinct, I went out to the station and froze. Okay, dirt. Don't give a damn about a droid that's barely functioning, trying to maintain order and cleanliness. I was struck by the graffiti-painted wall. Rather, only one specific drawing on it. A man with a haggard face, a sad, understanding look and bloody paths from tears on his cheeks. One could feel in this picture the heartache of the one who created it. Judging by the fact that none of the graffiti was applied to this portrait, it did not leave even the locals indifferent. In principle, this acquaintance with the lower levels could have ended. Only the Force objected. Shaking my head, I threw off the delusion and, going into a light trance, went mindlessly wandering through the local streets.

Faded colours of overalls. The odour from the convectors clogged with rubbish, the lion's share of which had been breathing on the frets for a long time. Kids chasing a shabby ball and completely fearlessly splashing through puddles covered with a suspicious oily film. The depressing contrast of the gray faces of people who have never seen the sun, and the bright signs of the cantinas, in which the inhabitants of the bottom find fleeting solace. Alcohol, drugs, hugs of cheap whores - whoever is closer and the wallet allows. It's not just hopelessness, there's no place for hope itself. By evening, the streets were filled with faceless masses of sentient beings wandering from their hated work. To call these biorobots people somehow I was getting tongue-tied. From the monorail station a gray stream poured out, filling the streets, where it split into many streams, and these, in turn, poured into places of entertainment and cylindrical anthill-like houses. I went into one of these, supposedly to rent a room, so with warmth, I remembered my twelve squares back in the temple. Probably, if it were not for the need to use houses as supports for the dome, spheres would have been built here as well. Why not? Maximum volume with the minimum surface area - that's a solid saving on materials!

For the second time in a row, something brings the teacher and me into some kind of dump. After all, recently we flew on very decent planets. It can't be that bad in the Outer Rim, can it? After all, I leafed through atlases, and read brief references about the worlds. Most of the planets, although quite backward, by the standards of the centre, are still quite decent. Definitely worth calming down. Somehow nerves are naughty and the tail is threshing about. I have received a lot of impressions today. Even the message from the intermediary, who informed me that the goods were sold for a little more than the average market value and agreed on a passing cargo, however, without a discount for the purchase of part of the alloys, did not please me at all. Pif's report on the start of loading also failed to cheer me up. Even the mentor, it seems, overdone with drinking.

However, I myself here seriously thought about knocking over a couple of shots. It was not easy to resist the temptation. "Boo-boo-boo,"- said the belly, hinting at the fact that we have been walking a lot and for a long time, and only ate breakfast. "I'm going to get rid of stress while eating," I growled in response and, following the will of the Force, but still more driven by my own nose, went into the cantina that attracted attention. It smelt better than the others, and the sign unequivocally hinted at the presence of a meat assortment. There was also a postscript that they cook from natural ingredients, and don't slip chemicals into the dish. And here we will check that out.