Chapter 6

Feeling almost no pain from his bloody fist, Nemak rushed around the cabin. Attempts to meditate failed. As soon as he tried to let go, memories flooded back. The conscience began to torment. Desires and aspirations were in conflict with the dogmas hammered in from childhood. He couldn't even sleep properly, let alone find peace. The only thing that helped somehow was alcohol. The young knight simply and unsophisticated got drunk and passed out. "A Sith Padawan," Nemak growled, wildly annoyed.

All this time Mirr was very calm. The perfect Jedi and student. Polite and detached. Like it's not of this world. They said to meditate - meditated. Sent to hand over and accept the cargo - bowed and went. He ordered to carry out an audit that no one needed for nothing - he completed and submitted a report. All this pissed me off. It infuriated and made me rage. Nemak understood that his behavior was wrong. Inadequate. He realized that he not only teetered on the edge, but also periodically crossed it. It was frightening and… disturbing. It would seem, where even more? However, the feeling of power, incredible strength and freedom - beckoned. No mossy masters, dogma, stupid code and imposed Padawan.

For some time now, Nemak more and more often began to find solace not only in drinking, but also in blaming his too ideal student for all his troubles. It's so simple and easy to pass it on to others. A new wave of memories of Zol swept over the young knight, and he resolutely headed for the cabin door. Almost running to the kitchen-dining room, he selected the drinks section on the panel of the food machine, quickly scrolled through it, and with sadistic pleasure pressed the desired sensor. "And the student is in the hold now," Namak laughed maliciously and knocked over the first glass of the strongest drink.

* * *

"Can I count on special treatment of my cargo?," he looked into my eyes with an embarrassed half-smile on his lips.

"Undoubtedly," I murmured in response and rubbed my fingers expressively.

Naturally, I was well understood. The banking chip has migrated from one hand to another. The client, slightly processed by the Force, confident that now his goods will be properly supervised, went about his business. He was very pleased and maybe even happy. Bet'cha, because the semi-mystical Jedi turned out to be quite understandable and normal guys. In addition, he can now flaunt the fact that he has a personal contact with an exotic force user. However, my list of contacts has also grown. In general, as they say, the parties parted completely satisfied with each other.

I did not use any violent influence or, Force forbid, coercion. Just directed the conversation in the right direction. By the way, it is somehow strange that I have not tried to stimulate curiosity before. After all, the natural reaction of the sapient beings.

Especially for me. Not only am exotic, which some have even barely heard of, but never seen and all put in the square. Am a Jedi, am I not? However, just right for those with whom we need to deal with, there is no difference between a Padawan and a knight for them. Ordinary inhabitants of our vast galaxy do not understand such nuances. And that's how we go - I shouldn't explain it to everyone and all, they wouldn't understand anyway. Also "There are many sorrows in too much knowledge" and in general there are only frustration. Something like that in general.

From a nice conversation about your beloved self and listening stories from clients, whom simply are starved for chit-chat, just let them tell you how they achieved their current position and what kind of difficulties they experienced in earning their caviar, move on to an understanding nodding, and then discuss a special treatment towards cargo - it's elementary. Usually I did it by asking for advice. Yeesh, they gave them excessively to me. What's nice - there were no useless ones. It was enough to share my general plans for how I am going to earn money in the worlds of the Outer Rim, so as if the cornucopia was bursting through.

The right businessman in a far, far away always has with him half a dozen anonymous chips for a total amount of a couple of tens of thousands of credits. A sort of analogue of cash. Here I get for worries and general cuteness, in half with kawaii, and here they handed one of them to me. Not so much for the fact that I won't sleep there for days and blow off a speck of dust from the cargo, but for the contact and the opportunity to get reliable information. Already something, but the fact that it is never superfluous, any entrepreneur knows and is ready to pay always, everywhere and at any time. So it is not difficult for me to inform about prices, demand and other supply in the visited worlds.

The point here is that the holonet in the Outer Rim was not only absent, but, let's say, was not present everywhere. Even where it was quite stable, there were certain difficulties. After all, it is not enough to have a network, it also need's to have information in it. But with the fulfilling of the latter, as it turned out, there were often difficulties. Many worlds simply did not have serious planetary business portals. It is, in principle, understandable - many planets had a rather narrow specialization, which everyone already knew about, and whoever did not know could find out without any problems. Much more interesting was the case with those who didn't have a unique product or specialization. Usually such worlds could not interest even the average business. They just couldn't keep up with the scale. However, I had contact with small entrepreneurs who were not at all opposed to expanding and suck some juice from the "colonies". The only problem was equipping a ship and flying almost at random is an unacceptable risk. Which one cute kitty, for a modest fee, made acceptable.

I didn't want to mess around with a teacher who was teetering on the edge of a falling and trying hard to get blond drunk, I hadn't no desire of. Firstly, he is simply not ready to accept outside help at the moment. He just needs to get over it. Secondly, the mentor, albeit by chance, but still turned out to be right. It was worth starting to look for differences in clients, so the good bargains immediately started. Still, narrow-mindedness and bias are evil. I won't say that everyone with whom I have to deal with in the hold is so different from each other, but they have recently ceased to be a dull gray mass for me. Of course, they are driven by the same motives, well, that's normal. However, they basically do the same thing. Yes, the spheres are different, but the principles of business are always and everywhere the same, and the problems and methods for solving them are similar.

Perhaps it's even good that I was left without drones and droids. However, equipment and a couple of universal platforms we will need to acquire in any case. I recently audited our mini-hangar and workshop here and drew up a rough plan for replenishing the missing equipment and general alteration of the existing one. This was facilitated by our dearest mentor, who was out of sorts and was looking for a way to load me with work. You see, he crawled in to train, sat down to meditate, and there was fur on the rug. So spring is in my homeworld, and I have active growth with body changes. Also aggravated by healing techniques. Oh, what do I want from him? The poor fellow only recently, somehow erratically, began to meditate again. In general, I conducted an inventory revision of everything and everything, simultaneously giving birth to a simple idea - to organize a flying workshop. This is a sure way to earn money for little Padawan needs!

It is noteworthy that I didn't discuss my plan with a mentor, but with a couple of clients. Nemak and I don't talk much at all lately. He gives orders, I carry them out. That's all our interaction lately. So, the intelligent people involved in various high-tech completely approved of my idea and gave load of advices. And, it was actually quite funny. For one, we brought a shipment of crystals, and the second one was a competitor of the first, and we took the finished blocks from him. Basically, this couple not only turned out to be familiar with each other, but also constantly competing in everything. They were stepbrothers at that. However, I found out about this in their heads by rummaging around.

So, the consignee got carried away and was in no hurry to free my ears from the advice infusion, and so went into a frenzy that he did not notice the consignor. The same one, having quickly delved into the topic, instantly joined the discussion and first and foremost criticized the brother to the nines. In short, an express course on organizing a mobile workshop to my delight. I even used the memory enhancement technique. It was a sin to miss such an opportunity to learn something new. Nice to deal with practitioners. As a thank you, I slightly dampened the desire of the couple to wipe each other's noses. Of course, my intervention will not be enough for a long time, but if the brothers who toned down arguing in the meeting find common ground, and they will find it, it's clear even without the Force, then everything will be fine with them. For sure.

* * *

"Mirr, we need to talk," Nemak intercepted me coming from training.

"As you say, teacher."

"Come on, let's have lunch," he waved his hand.

"Yes, master."

I won't say that I was very surprised, nevertheless, thanks to meditations, sensei more or less calmed down and has recently become adequate. He even began to walk around the cantinas again, and not just get drunk alone on the ship.

"I've been a bit out of shape lately," Nemak sighed, starting the conversation.

"You had to choose between the order and personal happiness."

"Yeah, something like that," the teacher looked away.

"And what did you choose, master?" — not that I held my breath, but was slightly tense, yes.

"Order," Nemak exhaled.

"So our mission continues," I murmured, turning up my ears.

"Continuing, padawan. And, perhaps, I was wrong when I made you a supercargo and refused to buy droids."

Not an apology, of course, but a progress. Maybe from the teacher we will get a real knight. In any case, while he feels guilty and was able to overcome himself, I need to seize the moment.

"I disagree about the position. You were right Nemak-dono, I was biased and didn't even try to work properly. But we really need to buy robots and some equipment. This dictates elementary common sense. Our ship was designed for a small team, and there are only three of us."

"Three? Ah, you're talking about the AI," - the teacher nodded.

"Him, master."

"Well, we still have the last point of unloading, I will replace you in the hold, and you will walk around the planet and buy what is needed. Can you do it?" Nemak squinted.

"Of course, master. I even have a list ready."

"That's good, but now, let's go and swing our swords."

"Eee…"

"Don't worry, I can handle it."

"Yes teacher."

Well, he really handled it. Of course, I was not particularly zealous, but still I did not obviously slaked off. We held five sparring rounds. Two ended in a draw, in one I won, in two I lost. We fought rather clumsily, in fact, just with speed. One strike we were working out, on second blocks, all interest is to catch the opponent and switch. Normally, for our latitudes, and in general we did a great job.

After waving the light sticks, we sat down to meditate. For the first time in a long time, I consciously loosened the block on communication with the teacher. Yeah, no words, only emotions. Did it mangle his energy. Instead of a bright star, some kind of dim dwarf. Crimson such an abomination with stains of scars and streaks of darkness. Brr, just. Ulcers, scabs, abscesses, boils, no untouched place, something like this could described from what I saw and felt. I remembered out of place an anecdote about a frog. The one where they ask her why she is so green and pimply, and she replies that she is sick, otherwise she is white and fluffy. In general, the affairs of the mentor were lousy, but that's what the Padawan was there to help.

Gently, imperceptibly, gradually, little by little, we begin to nourish the Nemak. It would be better to fully intervene, but I'm not a healer, and I'm afraid of the mentor's reaction. If he breaks down now, it will be easier to send him off to the Force ahead of schedule than to pull him back to the light. Perhaps not the easiest, but more merciful. Be ahead of thirty or forty years of peacetime, it's would have been okay, but there are none. Even if one is pulled out of the darkness, he will be killed in the first battle. Just because he will recall and torment himself. He will also take down someone with him. No, the choice is small. By what miracle did Nemak stay on the edge, how did he manage to step back from the darkness? I don't understand. Apparently, he is stronger than he seems.

* * *

The teacher remained in the hangar, while I, grabbing a bunch of banking chips and finances issued by Nemak, rushed across the field of the cosmodrome to the city. It would be faster to call a ride there, but since the teacher preferred to use his feet, it would be foolish for the Padawan to do otherwise. Actually, it's stupid to do as sensei does, well, that's not the point. It was hard to resist not to use Force acceleration, very difficult indeed, but I am a good boy. Managed it. Ran there on my own. With solid jumps.

The appearance of a rather purring cathar, and a Jedi at that, made a buzz at the local customs. More like a checkpoint. I had to apply a slight mental influencing. At the same time, I practiced in something like force concealment. Arrived somehow badly. Just from the just-landed liner, the flying analogue of the bus arrived and delivered a bunch of passengers. So, I extinguished the increased interest in my modest person. Finished queuing. Luckily, it moved fast. Hello world, which I see with my own eyes, and not through the prism of someone else's perception, and even from other's memories.

I really wanted to just wander and take a look around, but I would have to humble my desires and get down to business. Teacher already gave me great trust by letting me go alone. I understand that he has not only common sense, even, perhaps, not so much, but as a sense of guilt and remorse, but all the same, it's better not to make sensei worry. It's bad for him. Things need to be sorted out before the master stops meditatively poking his finger at the datapad. In short, there is about three hours for everything, which means I take a taxi and rush to the shopping center.

There were no problems with the car. Yellow flyers stood near the exit from the spaceport terminal. The color made me to growl-snort. Well, at least there were no checkers on top. The taxi was automatic, or rather, it had a droid sitting in a recess for the pilot's seat. Not an astrodroid, but similar, even outwardly. Named the address, paid, the transparent cap closed, and we took off.

Alas, we didn't get to enjoy the views. Five minutes and the flyer lands on the roof of a skyscraper. The huge building seems squat because of its width. A sort of round pill under a couple of hundred meters high. In fact, it was possible to just forget about coming here, the planet is very developed, ordering anything over the network is not a problem. It will just be faster, but I'm curious!

All in all, except for the size and assortment, the shopping center wasn't much different from the forgotten analogues from past life. The same department stores, a huge entertainment area and catering establishments interspersed with all this. For the convenience of visitors, there were reference terminals at every step, and elevators were able to move not only between floors, but also moved along them. A sort of transport capsules turned out, not elevators. If you needed to get somewhere close and you were too lazy to stomp your feet, there were self-propelled paths. Not too fast, but everything is more convenient than making your way through the crowd.

I had no luck with the latter. The locals were having a day off related with some significant holiday. In honour of which merchants arranged something like a "Black Friday". Saving on cash is wonderful. The hustle and bustle is terrible. Somehow I forgot how it is. There are not many people in the temple, and its area is much larger. On the ship, somehow, there is also no crowding. In general, I had to hastily give up and fall into something like a trance. Insolent, I know. As if experienced a natural shock. Even I didn't expect this from myself. I give my word - I was confused in the first minutes and froze like a gopher at the mink. As a result, the aborigines, hurrying to empty their wallets, ruthlessly rubbed me against the wall, and there they drove me into some kind of nook.

So, realizing that there was nothing to catch here, but not wanting to retreat, I made my way to the nearest terminal and, quickly sketched out a route and rushed to go shopping. From the datapad, I called in advance the cargo platform, which just reported the place occupied in the parking lot of the shopping center at the moment when I got to the department that sells droids.

"Hello!" the robot consultant greeted me joyfully and somehow feignedly moronic. "How can we help you? We have…"

"Here," I silenced the droid, who was obviously preparing to push the standard speel, in mid-sentence and handed him a datapad with an expanded list.

"Excellent, sir! All this and even..."

"Is it available?" interrupting the robot again.

"Yes, sir," the droid relented, and stopped trying to deliver a advertising speech.

"Then let's get it done."

"Of course, sir. Follow me."

I paid for droids and drones, refusing additional guarantees and other nonsense, but having bought a set of repair kits. Indicated the parking lot of the rented platform as a delivery point. Agreed about time and hurried after the tools. First of all, I bought a universal workbench. This distant great-great-grandson of 3D printers made it possible to produce the missing parts on the spot. Expensive, bugger, but worth the money. It is clear that such a specific machine has nothing to do with the standard configuration of Pif's workshop, but I can allow myself some liberties. Here is an engineering station, a relatively universal test bench, a set of tools and interchangeable manipulator nozzles with a solid supply of parts and consumables to one degree or another on a ship like ours it was a must have.

Had spent well and from the heart. Somehow shoved everything acquired onto the cargo platform. Things taken to growth in had to be thrown into the cabin altogether. However, there were barely any. Quietly purring and anticipating the future fussing in the equipment of the workshop went to the ship. Should be in time to arrive for the end of unloading.

"Padawan! What is this?!" Nemak stared at the cargo platform.

"Robots and tools, teacher. Everything is according to the list and standards," shuffling my foot and modestly putting my hands in the sleeves, I lowered my eyes to the floor. "I even took into account the recommendations from the thirty-second year after the Ruusan reform," I raise my eyes and make the muzzle of a diligent kitten running up to praise.

"H-how much?" Sensei sighs.

"Master, all expenses are justified by the purpose of completing our mission. Here," I pass the datapad to the mentor.

"Eh? EH?!"

"And the bench is simply vital for us!"

"Ehghe," sensei expresses doomed, but still jammed.

"Just send the report to the order, master. You'll see, they'll approve of it," - I encouraged the mentor.

"Return the chip. Padawan," Nemak finally came to his senses.

"Here, master."

"Sith is with you, unload it yourself," the mentor waved his hand and stomped away into the ship.

"Pif! Success!"

"I didn't doubt you, Mirr-dono. Hurry up, activate the drones, I'll help you."

"Right away."

* * *

Mr. Zhinda, who has been working in the treasury of the Jedi Order for the second decade, habitually opened the report, rejoicing in advance that such a successful couple of a foolish knight and a juvenile Padawan had turned up for him. This Nemak obviously caused irritation for Master Windu himself, otherwise he would not have given the go-ahead for such a long and confusing route, which boils down to pure commerce. However, did he have to complain? After all, he worked for interest. Very, very decent. For himself, Zhinda laughed at the Jedi and considered them not too far-minded idealists, but at the same time he was ready, that is, to personally strangle anyone for his position. Such was his quirk and a special form of fidelity. Never mind that, he didn't even cheat or steal. Firstly, it still won't work, and secondly, there was no point. After all, it was always possible to explain why he was owed this much and so much. Truth be told, the treasurer was unaware that the point was not in his eloquence or knowledge, but in the fact that he banally believed in his own words.

Today, Mr. Zhinda wanted to see the result of the route he had compiled so painstakingly and lovingly. He anticipated in advance how many full-fledged credits would settle on his account. The mood was such that the treasurer even began to whistle a bravura tune and cracked the fingers of his plump hands. Colleagues, who had long since learned each other's habits, only sighed enviously. Well, if Zhinda himself kneads his fingers, and even whistles, then soon at minimum he will appear on the new flyer.

Only today something went wrong. The tune was interrupted, and did not go into the usual drawn out note of admiration. Instead of a victorious quack, there was a hoarse sob, which turned into a strangled sigh. The clerks watched with interest as the colleague's face turned white, then quickly turned bloody and purpler. Finally, some lilac-blue Zhinda jumped up, grabbed the datapad and rushed for the doors.

"Master Windu!" the clerk rushed into the meditation hall.

"Something happened?" The Jedi opened his eyes.

"Yes! Here!" the treasurer shoved a datapad under the Korunnain's nose.

"And what's the problem?" the master pushed the device away, almost instantly reading the short report.

"How in what?! All, the profit..."

"Not all, but only its part," Windu shrugged.

"Most of it!"

"Who cares? The mission entrusted by you to a young Jedi with my permission brought profit to the order without requiring any expenses, and that's enough," the master nodded, parodying the grand master. He had such a small weakness, which he sometimes indulged. "Transfer the rest of the change, minus your interest, to our charitable foundation," Windu finished off the treasurer with an order.

"I-I obey," was all Zhinda could exhale, after he nevertheless inhaled and coped with an attack of dizziness.

"And drop by the healers, I feel you have health problems," the master showed sincere concern for the employee.

"Certainly, sir," nodded the treasurer, rubbing his chest in the region of his heart. "The pressure is playing tricks," he complained.

"It's all from the wories. Your work is hard, and you have not been on vacation for five years. To make such a magnificent route, to coordinate everything," Windu shook his head. "Few people can do that. I will arrange for you to receive a bonus of ten thousand credits."

"Thank you, master," Zhinda sighed wistfully, hoping to get a hundred times more.

"Your welcome. We Jedi do not need credits, but we understand their need. Something else?"

"No, master. Forgive me for disturbing you."

"It's okay," Windu indicated a hint of a smile.

"Have a nice day, master."

"And you, Treasurer Zhinda. Don't forget to visit the healers' chambers."

"Definitely, sir. Thanks and sorry again for the distraction."

Mace Windu didn't go on with his pleasantries, he just nodded and closed his eyes, immersing himself in the Force. "At least they treat for free," the treasurer encouraged himself. Well, everything is the will of the Force - Zhinda decided and went to fulfill his duties. A fleeting smile touched the Master's lips. He was more than satisfied that he managed to keep a good specialist, setting him on the right path. Jedi don't need credits- yes. But, it does not mean that they do not know how to count them. They just don't like it. Too much evil is happening because of them.

* * *

With the help of unpacked and activated drones controlled by Pif, we moved everything we purchased in less than an hour. The teacher, having sent my report to the order, fell asleep, but I set about arranging the workshop. Dancing and purring, I was opening the packaging. With telekinesis placed at the purchases in their places. Drones were assembling. They were connecting it to power supply. Droids were put into operation, which immediately joined the work. In general, the matter was being assembled, and by that time the teacher looked into the workshop, everything was almost ready.

"How is it, master?" I couldn't help asking after the tour.

"Impressive," Nemak rustled me on the head. "Now we are like a flying workshop."

"Well, not really, but somewhere close. We can repair various types of equipment. A highly sought after service on the Outer Rim worlds."

"We probably won't have time for that."

"Why not? While you gather information from your sources, I will work with others."

"Hmm, well, perhaps so," the mentor nodded.

"Master, have you already decided where we will fly next?"

"Not. Do you have some ideas?" Nemak squinted.

"I think we should buy spare parts here and fly to some agrarian world first."

"Trade doesn't fit well with the path of the Jedi, padawan," the teacher objected, but somehow without a twinkle.

"But it fits perfectly with our mission. You told me that there," I twitch my ear, "republic credits are not in use everywhere, and they don't like us."

"AND?" The mentor encouraged me.

"Thaaat's why we just need to be free merchants. See for yourself. Firstly, we will help the planet, we will bring what they need and at a normal price, not with exorbitant prices. Does this fit with the way of the Jedi? After all, we will do a good deed and a useful one."

"It fits, if without profit," Nemak nodded, scratching his chin.

"It's impossible without profit, it's too suspicious, but then we will transfer everything superfluous to the order."

"Good. Let's say. What's next."

"Secondly, we will buy some food concentrates, some briquettes, rations or something like that, and with them we will fly to the colony world of a subsector or even a sector. It's easy to sell there. Again, we won't sell high too much, but at the same time we will have a verifiable legend and no one will simply ask questions. Well, let's compare what they say in the fringes and in the center."

"Okay," Nemak agreed easily, spending a couple of seconds thinking.

"One more thing, master."

"M?"

"We should change into ordinary overalls, so as not to cause any questions at all."

"Hah, and with that say to leave the lightsabers and put on the blasters."

"Well, we don't have to give up the sabers, but the weapon wouldn't hurt us."

"No, padawan. This is already too much," the teacher snapped, but, remarkably, not immediately.

"Then we should be even more careful, master."

"Here you are right, finish with the workshop, and will be waiting for you in the training hall."

"Yes, even right now, Pif can handle the rest. Right?"

"That's right, in two hours all the work will be completed," the AI reported cheerfully.

"That's good," Nemak summed up. "Let's go."

Before we entered the hall, I had to repel the attack of the teacher. How sneeky. It seems that he also began to block our connection, or maybe I was just pensive, but I had to strain myself so as not to lose my whiskers. A Force push, and the mentor flies into the former viewing gallery. He did not expect this from me. I jump after and try to take down one shaggy little head. Unsuccessfully. Clashing blades buzz. A fist flies into my eye. You're lying, you won't take me alive. I strike towards the hand with a forehead. Ha! That's right, master. My forehead is massive and strong, and if the body is nourished by the Force, then even more so. Shuh-vzhuh-shukh the mentor feints. Breaking the distance. I intercept the sword and strike like a bat from left to right. Wow! I didn't know that Nemak could do the splits. I had to jump a couple of meters to save my legs. I attack. I showered him with a hail of not strong, but quick blows. The teacher grunts, but holds on. I digress a little and lose my pace. Sensei immediately seizes the initiative.

I retreat. Master confidently attacks. Strikes from all sides, but this is nothing. Soresu was created in order to resist this. The sword hides the body in a sphere of flashes. The teacher is persistently trying to get through. He is looking for openings. He is done fore. Retreat. Oh no, jumping to conclusions. Now he is throwing everything at me that is not bolted to the floor or welded to. So-so attempt, but gives time to rest. However, I shouldn't exacerbate. One. Deflected with the sword. Two. Dodged. Three. Intercepted by telekinesis. Four. Got it in the shoulder. Five. Ridge along the ridge. Six. Repulsed. Seven. Arrived on the thigh. Eight. The teacher is back in the ranks, and I am limping. Shih. Dodged. Zhih. Dodged. Bzhzhzh. Repulsed. A-a-ah! I roll my eyes groaning and fall dyeing.

"Clown," the mentor snorts.

"Do you think it's worth adding foam at the mouth and convulsions?" I open my eyes and ask from the floor.

"Your fur is more then enough, to clean up the drool on top of that, no way," the master laughs.

"So I bought these janitorial drones. Well, the small ones, I took six of those at once. Sterility," I raise my finger and slightly extend the claw.

"I approve," the teacher snorts like a seal. "Get up," he holds out his hand, "let's continue."

"Yeah, this is me all the time."

Oh, how we were jumping for couple of hours. The teacher, although he went into the cabin himself, but I lowered the shields on our connection, and quietly snorted and purred. Pride, but not arrogance, is good. Gritting teeth and walked forth, he is holding on. Well, good luck to you, master, climbing onto the bunk. Mrrrrr.

"Looks like you reconciled, Mirr-dono?"

"So we didn't quarrel, well, not in the usual sense," I waved my tail.

"Yes? I should think it over."

"Think it over. Work your brains, it is good for them. What's up with our workshop?"

"Everything is good. Equipment installed and tested. Droids and bots are routinely checking my systems. There are no complaints. We'll finish soon. We can reconfigure a couple of compensators, but this is completely uncritical."

"Understandably. Well, in that case, it's time for us to get down to business. Did you dig up something?"

"Not really. There are many agrarian-type planets, I chose fifty promising ones, but mostly I was guided by the location."

"It's clear. Did you make a summary of the local commodity exchange?

"No, I just downloaded."

"Do you need to pay for it?"

"Pff, just a change, I provided part of my computing power to some private trader, just enough for the purchase."

"Well, you're as if... no words, only respect."

"Like a teacher, like a student, Mirr-dono."

"Not always, padawan," I parodied sensei.

"Alas, master," the AI replied in the same tone. - Simply, I analyzed your communication with customers and looked for opportunities, so I found it.

"This is right. To whine about what will not work out - everyone can, but to try, and then again and again, the will is needed for that."

"Or stubbornness."

"Hmm, interesting concept. Will or stubbornness, stubbornness or will. Don't you find it, Pif?"

"Somehow I didn't think about it. I'll put it in the queue for analysis."

"Good, if you think of something interesting, share it, but I'll go and practice some more."

"Understood. Set gravity to usual?"

"Mmm, no, add ten percent."

"Done."

"I felt it," I answer, waving my sword a couple of times.

* * *

As soon as the cabin door closed, Nemak immediately leaned against it and slid down to the floor with a long exhalation. "It's good," he muttered, feeling the cold metal on the back of his head. Smiling crookedly, the knight replayed the past fights in his memory. Yeah, what a Padawan did he get. However, Mirr was also "lucky" with the teacher. In a sense, they are two boots. Even, from different kits, but when there is no choice ... Nevertheless, Nemak could be proud of himself. Not only did he make significant progress in fencing, he also coped with darkness. It's funny, but anger and irritation helped him to defeat themselves. Just at some point, he managed to redirect them from his student to his mentor. Nemak himself did not notice how this happened. He just remembered the teacher, and then somehow it turned out by itself. To understand that even with such a mentor he himself could spend time usefully, and not engage in nonsense, here the example of the eternally busy Mirra helped him. "Not only a student should be worthy of a teacher, but also a teacher of a student," the young knight breathed out and, gritting his teeth, forced himself to move with an effort of will. He. Will climb. On. Sithing. Bunk.

"Hold yourself together, you wimp!" growled Nemak and, giving himself a little slack, nourished the body with the Force. All he needed was to get angry at his own weakness. "Here we go," he muttered into the pillow, calming down. A couple of minutes of breathing exercises, and darkness is gone as if it never was. "No, to refuse the emotions, especially negative ones, is the height of stupidity," the drowsy knight thought. After all, there are thousands of poisons that, in moderate doses, will be a medicine. It is a pity that the idea that poisons tend to accumulate and even in therapeutic doses don't cease to be a poison didn't have time to visit the mind of a Jedi who had fallen asleep.

* * *

After a great workout and freshening up with a shower, meditation and a couple of medical techniques, I moved into the cockpit. The teacher is still asleep, so I habitually took the captain's chair and, picking up my legs, began to study the report from the commodity exchange of the planet. Nothing particularly interesting was observed. Equipment, spare parts, assemblies, components, consumables and all this in the widest range. In general, at least take analogues of local TVs, at least spoons, bowls, ladle, even tractors with other seeders, winnowers. Industrialized world. There is everything. Here they even riveted their spacecrafts.

I twisted and spun, a huge list, applied different filters, but I still couldn't decide properly, what in fact, should I buy? Here, on the one hand, there is a wealth of choice, and on the other, limited finances. Of course, we can use order's account, but how can I justify this? Hmm, let's say this can be done, but it isn't necessary, because there is an easier way out. I pulled out my communicator, pressed the button, looked at the grown list of contacts and nodded with satisfaction, returned to the report from the commodity exchange.

"Pif, give me the three nearest agricultural worlds from your list."

"Here," the AI brought out the requested.

Well, let's start. Habitual effort, and in front of me is a boundless ocean of Force. The wave-question diverges from me to all sides. The flow of my Force is reflected and returned. Brings a clear image. Wonderful. Now I know where we should fly. Mental effort, and like a shark I pierce the water column. I'm heading for prey. It doesn't even try to dodge. What does it care about a small piece that a predator will rip out? It won't even notice it. Wonderful. Simply amazing! Once I happened to look through esoteric books, and there I met such a thing as egregor. However, I prefer the term noosphere. In any case, I was able to achieve something like that, briefly touching it, ask and get an answer.

"Phew," I rub my forehead, my brains are notably bruised.

"Are you okay?" Pif immediately showed concern.

"Normal, I just didn't think that they needed so much and everything."

"Them? You mean the inhabitants of Padishaal?"

"Yes, they generally have one continuous deficit."

"Copy that. Why, by the way, this planet?"

"As I understand it, their harvest season has begun there. You can buy a lot and cheap."

"In that case, I would recommend bringing a processing complex there," Pif immediately took the initiative.

"Not a bad idea. We will let everything bought at once into briquettes for food machines. If we take something advanced, it will be possible to make more rations. Hmm, why not, we take the harvest at the expense of the complex, clog the holds and set sail."

"Then they will be able to stock up, according to the reference, there is almost no population growth there due to the terrible drought that comes immediately after the local spring. High mortality."

"Uh-huh, spaceships plow the expanses of the galaxy, and in individual worlds people are dying from hunger," I mutter, quickly scrolling through the information on the planet.

"You can bring them moisture harvesters."

"No," I shake my head, clearly feeling the objecting Force. -"Spare parts are better, different filters with it, spatulas and tubes for replacement. We will fix the existing ones and sell consumables. This will be much more beneficial."

"But profit..."

"... due to the services of the technician will be higher."

The Force approves of such a decision, and I like it much more. Every merchant in the arid world is carrying these damned moisture harvesters, condensers and other absorbers. As a result, there are often more of them on the planet than necessary, but they just do not work in sufficient numbers. So we'll fix it. To the best of our ability. Moreover, the population on this Padishal is minimal. Something like a quarter of a million intelligent lifeforms. Mostly people. However, it is not surprising, local little men are either two-thirds or three-quarters of the population of the galaxy. However, here, too, not everything is so simple. Some colonies founded at the dawn of the expansion era have gone so far that sometimes Wookiees or Twileks are closer to people than graduates from such a world. Here mutations in a different biosphere and genetic intervention. Sometimes someone from outside participated. All in all, it's still that kind of a panopticon.

"Come on, Pif, let's start compiling a list of purchases."

"I'm ready, master. Dictate."

"So, for starters..."

The main part of the money for the purchase was allocated by the reconciled brothers, who were currently in the process of merging their firms. It was interesting for them to stake out a planet for themselves and organize a constant flow of cargo. It's not even about profit, of course it was there, it wasn't particularly impressive, but about the reputation that they would had immediately acquired. A young corporation operating in foreign markets and having stable partners at once became much more attractive to investors. However, I was interested in other people's plans not so much. Interests coincided, that's good. Everyone will get something what they wanted.

By the time the teacher woke up, Pif-Paf was in the process of actively loading the hold. Sensei just looked at how quickly the drones with droids were running, carrying containers, and shrugged it off. Through our connection it was something like: "A child is playing, fine with it, he is that age now." In general, the master silently gave carte blanche and withdrew towards the kitchen. Then, just as silently, he flowed into the training room and sat down to meditate. I scratched my ear, waved my tail and decided not to disturb Sensei. I gave the command for take off. Nemak did not appear in the cockpit. Well, silence, as we all know, is a sign of consent.

"Pif, course to Padishaal."

"Understood. I begin preparations for the transition to superluminal speed."

Nemak honored me with his attention only three hours later, after we left for hyper.

"Padawan," the master exclaimed angrily, defiantly throwing up the hilt of his lightsaber.

"Guilty, master. I'm running," I pressed my ears in feigned fright and bulged my eyes.

"Slaker."

"I will improve."

Hmm, I definitely have the perfect mentor. He will be. With time. When he grows up.