Day knelt beside the second injured man. It seemed he was luckier: his rib cage clearly indicated breathing, but that was all. Day remembered well, if there are signs of life, it's better to leave the injured person to the doctor.
Therefore, Day silently looked at the dead and green-faced Sher. And she thought about what a terrible profession this fragile, golden-haired girl had chosen for herself. And also about how, because of some scoundrel, someone would not be waited for at home.
A pillar of fire shot up into the sky, the hot breath of the explosion stirred the people's hair, forcing them to involuntarily hold their breath. Burning debris, tumbling and swirling, fell around, and here and there, plumes of smoke began to rise from the grass.
Explosions of shells. Craters, a burning AT-ST, scorched grass, and charred trees... This flashed before Lieutenant Carrada's eyes instantly. War has a habit of getting stuck in the soul like a bloody splinter that can never be removed...
But then, like lightning – a thought: "The grass!"
"Are you all right? Day?" she raised her head.
Seeing that Day and the driver were stirring, Sher aimed the scanner at the second man.
"He's alive. The rest is your job," Day said calmly.
"The grass now... Is there a fire extinguisher? And thank you," she quickly said to the taxi driver, moving closer to the injured man again, injecting an anti-shock syringe into a blue vein branching. She didn't need shock pain... She would have said much more and warmer words to the driver, but now was not the time for pleasantries. Sher yanked open the shirt of the man lying down.
The scanner thought for a very short time and gave a breakdown of the injuries.
"Well, not as bad as it could have been," Sher told herself.
A fracture of the spine in the thoracolumbar junction with wedge-shaped compression of the vertebrae... Three vertebrae... Perirenal hemorrhages without damage to the parenchyma, but there is bleeding in the spleen parenchyma, a very small hematoma for now, there is a danger of rupture and detachment of the organ. And the clavicle fracture in the diaphysis is visible even without a scanner...
The driver silently got up and retreated into the grass, not turning his back to the women.
The vegetation was lush, there was no danger of fire. In a couple of places, last year's grass was smoldering; the driver simply stomped out these embers. The only source of smoke remained the exploded car.
"I wonder from which ridges rescue services get here," Day hissed, watching Sher's manipulations. It seemed to her that several hours had already passed.
"I think they're not sitting idle," Sher said thoughtfully. There were no fires from the explosion, so she could calmly continue.
Finding a local anesthetic in the first-aid kit, Sher quickly numbed the clavicle and began to set the fragments, which had shifted, one down and forward, the other up and back. It was good that there was no detached fragment, so she didn't have to worry about it damaging a nerve. And the spinal cord canal was not damaged in the spine. The person has every chance of remaining whole and healthy after such a catastrophe, Sher thought to herself, securing the set clavicle with a special brace. She couldn't handle the intestinal contents and the hematoma in the spleen on her own. If only she had her case...
"Day, bring something for him to put under his head, he should come to his senses now, he might vomit..."
Day ran to the taxi and pulled out one of the clothing packages, which was suitable in height. Returning to Sher, she sat down near the injured man's head and made a roll out of the package, and then, carefully lifting the head of the unlucky driver, gently placed the roll, about a palm thick, underneath.
"Is that good?" she asked.
The watch on the injured man's wrist counted the seventh minute since the beginning of events. The hum of engines was heard, and twenty seconds later, a rescue service minivan landed nearby, turning with precision. Rescuers, grav-sleds, a medical droid poured out of the opened door... In a matter of seconds, the driver, who hadn't even had time to regain consciousness, was loaded onto a stretcher, fitted with sensors, and loaded into a speeder. The taxi driver was caught, the long torn wound on his back, left by a fragment, was treated and sutured. The driver himself was driven into the same speeder.
A man with professionally caring and attentive eyes stopped in front of the passengers.
"Ladies, are you all right?"
"Quite," said Day.
"Excuse me," Sher mumbled and rushed to the speeder where their taxi driver was being seated. "Thank you very much and forgive me!" she shouted to him. "Tell me, what's your name? Please!"
"Sandy," the driver responded from the depths of the minivan. "Sandy Honey."
The door began to close, the vehicle started to ascend.
"Thank you, Sandy Honey, you are a wonderful person!" Sher managed to shout into the closing door and blinked, shaking a drop of moisture from her eyelash. It seemed she had inhaled a good amount of smoke...
"I'll drive you," the man led them to the taxi. "You've experienced stress, you shouldn't drive."
"There's no stress," Sher said firmly. "There's also a dead person... Call a hearse. And the car isn't ours anyway. It needs to be returned to Sandy Honey. And write this down," she dictated the make of the burgundy car, the culprit who fled the scene of the accident, to the man.
"Already called, and the car belongs to the taxi company," the man explained as he wrote. "They'll find the offender, I'm sure. The delivery service from the port will return the car to the company - you were flying there, weren't you?"
"Yes, there, thank you," Sher confirmed, carefully picking up the first-aid kit, her scanner from the ground, and grabbing the bag. "Let's get in, Day," she turned to the Corellian. "I'm afraid they're waiting for us at home."
"Ma'am," the man addressed Day. "Sit next to me. I need to talk to you."
"Excuse me," Sher tensed, "May I know what you want to talk to my... relative about?"
"You will hear the entire conversation," the man reassured her. "But it's more convenient for me to conduct the conversation when the interlocutor is nearby."
Sher carefully placed the first-aid kit back.
"Forgive me again, but I don't see any common subject of conversation with the Rescue Service," Sher shrugged and looked questioningly at the man with attentive eyes. "We've already said everything..."
"It's for your own good, Mrs. Kale," her interlocutor replied softly. "And I have nothing to do with the rescue service. I have to do with the planet's security service. I have bad news for you."
"Was our car supposed to be shot down?" Sher glanced at the security officer. Yes, those overly attentive eyes could only belong to people of one profession, no matter whose interests they protected.
The man did not answer. But silence can also be very telling at times...
"So, this guy died because of us..." she said in a low voice, feeling her heart grow even heavier, as if her involuntary guilt had doubled.
She put her arm around Day's shoulders.
"Everything will be fine, believe me..."
Day entered a state of petrification. It wasn't the first time she had met with security representatives, and she knew perfectly well that the best course of action was maximum calmness.
"I'm listening," she said calmly, having managed to reassuringly touch Sher's hand, "what bad news do you have for me?"
"Before I get to them," the security officer waited until they were seated, the taxi rose into the air and sped towards the spaceport, "I would like to hear the answer to one question. Ma'am, do you always react so calmly to someone else's death?"
Sher looked suspiciously at the back of the security officer's head - what was he asking? The main thing is why? Does he want to report something else terrible?
She didn't hear what Day answered, because she suddenly distinctly felt how much she wanted to go home. To the ship. To Nick...
"And don't you think your place is by the toilet?" Day thought maliciously, but said aloud: "Do you prefer hysterics and screams?"
"So. There won't be any. And what will happen later is none of your business..."
"I like straightforward answers to questions," the Security Bureau officer replied calmly. "You survived an attack on your group. Now you've witnessed a person's death. I know that one of the phases of shock reaction to stress is complete calmness. But you assured me that you are not experiencing any stress. Should I conclude that someone else's death means nothing to you? Or perhaps..."
"Officer, forgive me," Sher said, her voice cutting in. "That was said for the rescue service. We didn't need medical assistance, yes. But that doesn't mean we're not experiencing what happened," she said tiredly.
"You see, sir," the planetologist's voice became completely colorless, "in my homeland, they believe there is a time to grieve and a time to rejoice. Now you are waiting for answers to your questions, and I will answer them. And I will mourn those I have lost when it becomes possible. Have I satisfied your curiosity, sir?"
Day held on with all her might, not to send the security officer naked into the land of black people. But she understood that he was just doing his job, and therefore she only clenched her teeth tighter in her mind.
"I wouldn't ask such questions if they weren't necessary," the pilot glanced in the rearview mirror. "You see, Mrs. Kale, we contacted your superiors to report the incident and arrange for your delivery home... And we received a response... You are accused of collaborating with pirates. The reason: you are the only one who survived, therefore, you are in collusion with them. By acting like a lizard carrying steel eggs, you confirm the accusation. Indirectly, but you confirm it."
The security officer's voice became tired.
"I can delay your arrest for twelve hours. And not a minute more, Mrs. Kale."
"What are you talking about?! What have they come up with?" Sher exclaimed indignantly. "What cooperation with pirates, sir?! Our ship performed miracles of piloting to protect the escape pod from their turbolaser fire, our pilot exposed himself to their shots with all his shields!"
What Day was thinking at that moment was beyond normal speech. The most decent thing was: "Reza, you scoundrel, if only I could get my hands on you." Out loud, Day said in an even more stony voice:
"Thank you for the warning. I'll try to disappear soon."
Day tugged at a strand of her hair and added, "A favor for a favor. If your service is interested, pay attention to the person of Reza Stein. The route of our return is his authorship."
She took a comlink from her purse, and an infocrystal from the comlink.
"Here are all our routes with his signature. Consider this my will."
Sher followed the officer's gaze and turned around with alarm.
The security officer nodded, tucking the chip into his breast pocket.
"I have no desire to jump on my hind legs at the command of alien swindlers," the speeder noticeably increased its speed. "So let them fly and jump themselves. You're unlikely to be put on a galactic wanted list, ma'am. It's not that level of crime. But if I were you, I'd try to stay away from my home planet."
Far behind, a red spark flashed in the sunlight.
"Is that us? A chase?" Sher asked quickly, though the question sounded more like a statement. "I see you've increased speed. Will we get away? Or will we have to fight back?" The doctor turned and tried to catch the security officer's eye in the mirror.
In the security officer's bright blue eyes, there was an arctic cold.
"It will depend on how Mr. Honey took care of his machine," his voice was serene, as if they were discussing the weather on a neighboring continent. "Someone really doesn't want you to live to be arrested, Mrs. Kale... Miss Lonely, if I were you, I'd warn Captain Monroe that someone might try to infiltrate the ship. In case Mrs. Kale left something valuable there."
What Day wanted most was to wake up. The fact that everything happening was not a dream was confirmed only by Sher's huge eyes, full of understanding and sympathy, in the rearview mirror.
"Sher, contact the captain too," she said in a hoarse voice, "he has to make it."
It was becoming harder to speak. Day knew that a little more and she wouldn't be able to speak at all. A reaction to stress, damn it.
Sher was already thinking about the captain needing to know what was happening. She took out her comlink, not taking her eyes off the red dot behind, and somehow belatedly wondered why the security officer had called her by name...
"Rick, it's Sher," the girl said, hearing the captain's voice. "Things are such that Day's bounty hunters might try to infiltrate our home. We're already flying back," she said quickly and added more quietly, watching the distance between them and the red spark. "And I hope to see you."
The distance was noticeably shrinking.
"A racing 'Starplay'," the security officer commented when the details became distinguishable. "Well, shall we dance... Ladies, buckle up... As securely as possible."
Opening the control panel, he ripped off the speed limiters and slammed the lid shut again. The speeder shot forward as if it had been stung in the rear.
"Dangerous speeding," the autopilot reported in a velvety voice. "Fifteen minutes until the generator overheats..."
"Will we make it?" Sher threw out, securing the straps on herself and the neighboring seat with the bags. She still took the blaster off her hip.
"Let's dance..." she repeated after the security officer. A dance, but a completely different one, came to her mind now...
"And with the full set, Nick... Definitely."
Day silently clicked the seatbelt buckles. She had no weapon. And the best a person useless in defense could do was sit quietly and not get in the way. Well... Day prayed to the Mother of Existence for Sher and the security officer sitting next to her, whose name, as if on purpose, had flown out of her head, for the entire crew of 'The Incident', who for complete happiness only lacked a hasty escape, and for the children, for those who guard the academy, so that at least they wouldn't be reached. And she also made a vow to get a weapon and never go anywhere without it again. There was no time to be horrified by her own fate. She had money left, and quite a lot, the children were alive, and it wasn't easy for pirates to get to Kuat. Home... when there isn't even a felinx in it - it's just walls and a roof.
"I'll have to ask the captain to sell the house," Day thought.
"Do we have a choice?" the pilot chuckled. The smile was hard.
He drove fast. The autopilot informed her every minute about the time remaining until the generator overheated, but the distance between the taxi and the racing car was shrinking, though not as quickly as before. The officer, who never revealed his name, lacked the supernatural ease, the fusion with the speeder, like Nick, and yet he was an excellent driver.
Ahead, a fold in the terrain appeared: a long valley between two ridges of hills. The security officer directed the car into the gap between the peaks, turning slightly to the right. The pursuer immediately cut the corner, further reducing the distance.
"Four minutes until the generator overheats..."
At the very passage, the security officer turned left. The speeder scraped its belly along the low-lying bushes, leveled its flight, and rushed along the valley.
Behind Day, the swift red car tried to repeat this maneuver and crashed into the hillside at full speed. The explosion left a ragged black scar on the green slope. The chase was undone by speed...
Sher soon stopped hearing this monotonous voice of the autopilot, counting down the minutes and hitting her taut nerves periodically, as she caught the pursuers in her blaster's sights. If she had to shoot, she would do it for sure when they got closer. But the security officer never gave them that opportunity. Yes, he was far from Nick, but... But she didn't expect such professionalism, such virtuosity in driving from a security officer of a peaceful planet. Maybe that's why Bakrana is so peaceful?
"You dance beautifully, sir," the girl said in a low voice, looking at the falling hail of burning remains of the pursuer's car and clumps of black, churned earth. "Thank you, sir..."