The government building made an impression — it looked more like some kind of bunker-fortress.
As Haruk explained, this was where the main food and water supplies were stored.
Circumstances had left their detrimental mark on architecture.
The teacher and I could only nod our heads in understanding.
It was perfectly clear that this wasn’t built on a whim, but out of harsh necessity.
Terrifying, and there were no words for it.
The interior also wasn’t remarkable for luxury or any kind of decor.
Everything was strictly functional and geared toward defense.
A question flickered through my mind again — were we still in a galaxy far, far away, or had we already been transported to some post-apocalyptic world?
“Hello, fellow traders,” greeted us a man of about forty sitting at the head of the table.
“I’m Neul Hunt, chairman of the government,” he introduced himself, hands steepled.
What immediately caught my eye were the calluses and dirt under his fingernails.
In general, none of those present seemed like pampered individuals.
The local fathers of the nation looked far more like construction workers who spent all day bending their backs under the scorching sun.
“What have you brought us, what will you delight us with?” Neul hinted more than transparently at his reluctance to waste time.
“May you have a good harvest and an easy season,” I inclined my head slightly.
“My name is Irm, and this is my assistant, Nemak,” I twitched an ear toward the teacher.
“We’ve brought a full-cycle agricultural processing complex.
It can produce food concentrates, make briquettes, and even a limited range of ration packs.
Our ship is also equipped with a tech repair workshop.
The upper deck is packed with spare parts and consumables for moisture vaporators.
Is such merchandise of interest to you?”
“Why ask a question when you already know the answer perfectly well?” Neul Hunt smiled, unable to contain his bursting feelings.
“Out of politeness,” I shrugged.
“Shall we start discussing the terms?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent, then let’s begin with the main thing.
As I understand it, you’d like to pay with agricultural products?”
“That would be the most acceptable condition for us,” the chairman didn’t argue with the obvious.
“In that case, I propose a fairly simple exchange.
We deploy and install the complex, and you supply 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 confer,” the chairman exchanged a glance with his colleagues.
“Of course, we understand completely.
Should we step out?”
“That’s not necessary, you can just sit by the window for now.
Sunset is approaching — believe me, on our planet it’s an unforgettable sight.”
“We’ll be happy to enjoy it.”
Hunt gave a short order, and within a couple of minutes, we were watching the sun sink below the horizon while sampling local delicacies.
The first didn’t impress me much; the second, by its nature, didn’t either.
No, admittedly, the local version of dwarf melons, peaches, apples, grapes, and some kind of blackberry-strawberry hybrid were quite good, but…
it just wasn’t my thing.
Meat, meat, and more meat.
Which, unfortunately, no one was planning to serve.
Logical — we weren’t at a formal dinner here.
Still, it was amusing that they hadn’t kicked us out the door.
They had peculiar relationships here, or maybe special traditions.
If you started analyzing the quirks of every single civilization, you’d not only run out of life — you’d simply go insane.
However, the local rulers weren’t eager to let outsiders into their affairs.
They spoke almost in whispers, and even turned on some kind of barrier.
But my hearing, slightly enhanced by the Force, allowed me to quite clearly make out their brief but very emotional discussion.
The government members’ main concern was the possibility of being left without a harvest.
Damn nice that they were thinking about their fellow countrymen first.
But really, what else was there to expect?
A little over two hundred thousand people, everyone in everyone’s sight, everyone knows everything about everyone.
Hell, they were literally surviving as a whole community here!
What kind of corruption or anything like that could there possibly be, for crying out loud?
If only we could send Republic senators here for an internship — now that would be something.
“Acceptable,” Hunt nodded after they’d all done some rough but essentially fairly accurate calculations and made sure they’d have more than enough left for themselves.
And considering they’d be able to preserve it all…
“Excellent.
In that case, we only need to resolve one issue.
Will we organize equipment repair services centrally, under your patronage, or should we work independently?”
“In any case, I want bank credits and Hutt peggats.”
“We’re not sure we can gather enough in the currencies you’ve requested.”
“For the sake of establishing mutually beneficial relations,” I purred, seemingly thoughtfully, “I agree to accept the difference in Republic credits, but at the appropriate exchange rate.”
“For the sake of ‘mutually beneficial relations,'” Hunt smiled, “we’ll try to find the money in the currency you want.” He looked meaningfully at the neighbor to his right, who only gave a curt nod.
I don’t know what undercurrents they had going on here, and frankly, I don’t want to know.
I’m unlikely to work with this planet again anyway.
Let these fellows figure things out and delve into the local realities.
“Since we’ve reached a basic agreement, I propose we celebrate with a modest dinner,” the chairman suggested.
“We’ll gladly share a meal with you,” I bowed to the entire honorable company.
“Will there be meat?” I smiled, showing my sharp little teeth just slightly.
“Most certainly,” Hunt smirked understandingly.
* * *
The production complex was deployed in the basements of the government building, which made sense.
That way it was protected from the vicissitudes of fate and closer to the raw material source.
True, at first, droids had to do the work.
The locals didn’t have the right specialists.
Or rather, they were simply afraid of damaging such valuable equipment, and I wasn’t inclined to wait while they familiarized themselves with the instructions and learned the training programs.
So I had to improvise in this original way.
Also, time was limited.
The harvest season was coming to an end.
The teacher wandered around the town for a couple of days.
Tried the local rotgut.
Got disillusioned by the general dreariness and monotony of topics that interested the natives, and then occupied the training hall.
He couldn’t really help me much with my work, simply because he lacked the necessary skills and knowledge.
“Hand me this, bring me that, and other ‘get lost and don’t interfere'” there were plenty of that without him.
Meanwhile, I, along with the droids and with whatever help the capital’s specialists could provide, worked in four shifts repairing equipment.
They brought us so much assorted junk that we had to use the control tower for storage.
Due to the emergency, I even pushed self-education to the back burner.
But right before departure, a big surprise awaited us.
As soon as we’d loaded and secured the last container of food briquettes, an impressive crowd showed up, led by the local government.
So, it wasn’t exactly a celebration — but a ceremonial send-off, complete with the conferral of honorary citizenship of the glorious planet Padishaal, did take place.
It’s nice when your efforts are appreciated as they deserve.
May the Force grant, someday I’ll visit this world again.
Though I shouldn’t count on it.
In any case, it’s enough for me to know for certain that they won’t have any trouble for the next hundred years or so.
How things will turn out after that — that’s beyond my knowledge.
I hope they’ll have more good than bad in their future.
“Reports have been sent to the partners.
Recommendation letters are attached,” Pif reported as soon as we exited the gravity well.
“Good.
Set course for the subsector capital.”
“Executing.
That was an excellent farewell speech, Mirr-dono.”
“Thank you, Pif.
What’s the teacher up to?”
“Sitting on the ceiling by the bridge door.
I presume he’s organized an ambush for you.”
“Ah, that explains the strange sensations in the Force…”
“Ready for lightspeed transition.”
“Jump!”
“Executing.
Transition to hyperspace achieved.”
“Excellent.
I’ll go cheer up the mentor.”
“Try to roll a bit further from the door — it’ll make for a better recording.”
“I’m not promising anything,” I rumbled, taking my sword off my belt.
“Open,” I commanded the AI, preparing to jump.
Swoosh — the mentor’s sword whistled over my head.
“Too late, Sensei!” I yelled, transitioning from a roll into a swift acceleration.
“Stop right there!” came from behind me.
“The best fight is the one that never happened, Master!” I reminded the teacher of something he’d once said.
“Goodness must come fully armed!” Nemak freely interpreted my words.
“But all we have are swords!” I replied, using the wall to abruptly change direction.
“If we had blasters, you wouldn’t have to chase me!” I deflected a food ration box thrown at my back with telekinesis.
“And how did you figure out I was waiting for you?” the mentor asked, sitting down on the mat.
“I asked Pif.
The sensations in the Force felt too strange,” I took my meditation spot.
“I see, I’ll keep that in mind for the future,” the teacher closed his eyes and began doing breathing exercises.
“Me too, Master,” I detached myself from reality and began to sink into the Force.
“I don’t doubt it, Padawan.”
Further conversation was no longer about filling the air.
The dialogue shifted to an entirely different level.
Rather, it moved to another plane.
We exchanged short thought-forms filled with information and sensations.
We shared thoughts carrying attitudes toward various issues and — heresy of all heresies — containing emotions.
Though, by silent agreement, we’d long since “said screw it” to certain inconsistencies with the Order’s code of conduct in general and the Jedi way in particular.
* * *
“And I thought we were in a backwater before,” I snorted, looking at the planet through the viewport.
“Maybe it’s not so bad,” the teacher shrugged.
“After all, this world supplies tons of industrial raw materials.
It provides for nearly the entire sector.”
“If the briefing is to be believed, barely half of it.
And they live under domes on top of that.
Trashed the atmosphere chasing the fast credit.”
“They’re not the first, they won’t be the last,” the mentor noted philosophically.
“That’s what’s so depressing,” Pif unexpectedly chimed in.
At that point, our conversation somehow naturally fizzled out.
Plus, the local dispatcher contacted us — so the routine landing procedure began.
We pierced the gray-black sky like a meteor, dropped speed, and slowly glided toward the dome covering the capital.
A huge metal-plastic structure, resembling a chain-link fence with murky cells.
Though that was even somewhat good.
I wouldn’t want to be in the residents’ shoes, seeing that gloomy sky — it made such an oppressive impression.
The flight ended at the opening of a massive airlock at the local spaceport.
An impressive tribute to gigantism.
The temple hangar gates didn’t even come close.
In principle, it made sense.
Real caravans launched from this planet.
Consisting of something like barges, each about 800 meters long.
Bigger than your average cruiser.
They gave us a parking spot right by the dome, so once we landed, I could watch the acid rain droplets drumming against the murky plastic.
Or was it alkaline here?
What difference did it make!
As they say, “six of one, half dozen of the other.” Dreary, all of it.
“So, Padawan.
Here we are,” the mentor stated the obvious.
“Uh-huh.
A striking contrast, even compared to Mid Rim worlds,” I answered somewhat off-topic, still under the impression of the city’s overall atmosphere as I felt it in the Force.
“Can you handle your commercial affairs yourself, or do you need help?” the teacher steered me back to business.
“I’ll manage, Master — I’m an honorary citizen now, after all.”
“Then I’ll focus on gathering information,” Nemak nodded.
It seemed he was simply missing his walks and sitting around in cantinas, or maybe he’d just gotten restless.
“Have a good walk, Sensei.”
So the mentor went off on his binge.
I’ll hope everything goes smoothly for him without any adventures or trouble.
As for me, I should head for the local City.
Sure, I could handle everything remotely, but it’s interesting to see another planet and assess the people living on it.
Maybe it’s not so bad here?
Padishaal, for instance, also made a pretty depressing impression at first, but when I dug deeper into the local life, glimpsed the minds of my assistants and clients, I started seeing everything quite differently.
Still, the Force is far from a panacea.
The Great Force gives answers, but the trouble is — the one asking interprets them.
Though, that happens even without any Force at all.
Few people can look at the same problem from different angles.
Everyone prefers to interpret information in the way that’s most convenient and advantageous for them.
They say everyone has their own truth, but they often forget about the actual truth.
That’s why it has to wander around like a freeloader.
Nobody needs it.
Which is a pity.