Episode 5. Frightening the Fish

Purple sands and turquoise waters rolling towards his bare feet all the way from a perma-dark sky. The sound of sloshing water receding from his toes is interrupted by the soft pulsing of the hyperspace alert. Dev blinks away the dreamy fog and shifts in the pilot’s chair. He has sand in his eyes from the sleep or the dream, he’s too fogged to care. The Captain pulls on the hyperspace lever before picking the sand from the corners of his eyes.

Scream can still be heard, hoarse and far less frequent from the center of the Haider. Dev doesn’t need to check the chronometer, knowing he won’t have to do his next set of dishes. His knees ache, boots still resting elevates on the elevated sensor console. So he drops them and massages the left knee as his flicks on the sensor monitor with his right hand. “Lady luck, be kind…”

Nothing.

“Nothing.” He says aloud to himself, reassuringly. No ships waiting. No blockade. The Merchant of Death’s people may know the look of his ship, but it looks as though they don’t know all Deviax’s haunts. Hopefully they’re incompetent enough to not know they’re chasing the Haider specifically. In the Rana system now, he aims the ship toward the fourth planet and set the autopilot to on their way.

“C-C-Captain?” The Bothan’s soft voice comes from behind, and Dev spins in his chair to face his engineer.

“Patches,” he says, seeing the Bothan’s fur has new areas of recent balding. Even the mustache and beard can’t hide the frown on his face. Dev knows before Patches needs to say it. “It’s the screaming.” And Patches simply nods in response. “I’m sorry bud. It was thoughtless. I’ll talk to him,” and the Captain rises, rolling his head on sleep imposed sore neck. “Watch our course for us?”

“Thank y-you.” Patches says, sitting calmly in the pilot seat. He stares out, causing Deviax to pause and watch. The Bothan stares as if captivated by something only he can see. Something about the sight makes the tinge of guilt worse.

Stretching and trying not to limp as he moves from the flight deck back towards the core of the Haider, he passes Shocasta on the walkway.

“We dead yet?” She asks, passing him to make her way to Patches. A hairbrush with a wooden back is in her hands, stroking out the kinks from sleeping.

“You wish. You have dishes tonight.” He retorts, making his way down the metallic stairs to deck one.

“Bite me,” she calls back.

Dev thinks a moment he should have held his tongue and gone into the med room on a positive vibe. But foresight is not his strength. The kid is still yelling. Even as Deviax enters and stares at him, the boy glares back, screaming a breaking parched cry of outrage.

“You’re scaring the fish.”

The boy stops. Perhaps out of confusion. Perhaps because it’s just an absurd statement. The captive looks seems to invite Deviax to explain.

“Patches,” Deviax says softly. “The Bothan that searched you. Good man. Best mechanic I’ve ever seen. Was putting speeder engines together with scraps from his dinner when he was younger than you. But he’s a little high strung. Doesn’t do well with people. Engines, he can talk to them all day. People, they make him nervous. Cause him to pick are his fur. Hence the balding patches. It’s anxiety. A discomfort he can’t communicate. You see, he won’t say the screaming makes him uncomfortable. But he can tell me it scares his fish. It’s how we communicate. Through his feelings about his fish. Silly Bothan has a gravity tank in the engine room. Probably worth more than my entire ship, full of the prettiest fish you’ve ever seen. Absolute aquatic wonderland in there full of his only friends. As my crew, I want him to be comfortable. So, for his sake, I’d like to ask you to stop screaming.”

Silent now, the boy continues to glare at Deviax, expression of utter hatred held during the entire story. After a few moments that might have exploded Dev’s head if the kid could use the all-powerful and sweet thready Force, he finally speaks. “I’m thirsty…”

“Probably hungry too.” Dev says. “I’ll get you some food and water. Maybe when I get back, you can tell me why you’re on my ship and why the MOD wants you.”

The kids says nothing, glare maintained until Dev leaves the infirmary. He doesn’t crack a smile until he’s safely out of sight in the kitchen.