With engine overhauls done, the stewards and pilots were returning to the Hopestar while engineers took a well-deserved extra rest period. Nikolai found it eerie walking through the Third deck without any passengers: all the cabins were currently empty with doors open. The only non-residential space here was the main doctor’s office. The door to the tiny lobby was open but the rest were closed.

Dr Clara Batt was at the small station (well, under it currently, but she peeked out when she heard him come in) near the door getting her stuff back into the cabinet. Most of the personal belongings had to be put in the storage spaces before the life support got cycled out. Even if gravity wasn’t turned off, the cycling of the air created quite a wind. She was also chewing on a crunchy snack that she probably bought on the station.

She swallowed and without a preamble said: “I didn’t like the latest report from your implants. We should schedule a full screening during this hop.”

Nikolai flushed. He didn’t go to her the morning after he had trouble breathing. He honestly forgot. He didn’t like all those screenings, of course, but it would be childish to avoid them on purpose. 

Before he could find something to reply with, Clara pointed towards one of the closed doors. “You’re here for Andrade, aren’t you? We’ve rinsed him out, but you know… It takes time to properly clear one’s head. Daneshwar is talking with him.”

Dr Daneshwar Bhagooli was possibly the most qualified crew member that ever worked on the Hopestar. He had 50 years of academia and medical practice in psychology under his belt before he chose to spend the latter half of his life on a spaceship for the stamped despite having been fortunate to avoid getting a stamp himself. He was a bit older than Nick and Rob but never went through a renovation and didn’t intend to. If there was anyone who could talk to Paolo without losing patience immediately, it would be him.

“Are you sure you are feeling okay?” Dr Batt asked with a raised eyebrow, and Nick realised he didn’t say a single word to her from the moment he stepped into the office. He managed a smile.

“I’m just dreading the conversation I am expected to have.”

She snorted bitterly and shrugged. “You can walk out and pretend nothing has happened.”

Nikolai felt a pang of guilt in his gut: this was a deliberate commentary about his captain abilities. Clara wasn’t technically a doctor; she would be if she had a way of studying medicine and receiving a diploma. But the only medical profession you could get with a stamp in your ID was nursing. She went through myriads of courses, practices, books, research papers, and even had a dissertation written but none of it mattered officially. They held a little party for her over a decade ago on the ship and since then everyone called her Dr Batt. Still, sometimes Nikolai felt she resented the life she had and spilled it out on people around her.

“I don’t think I can do that, Clara.” He finally managed to say with a strained smile. She shrugged and returned to filling up her cabinet under the desk.

Nick walked over to the door to one of the examination rooms that Clara pointed to earlier. He wasn’t there earlier when Paolo and Andrew got in a fight near the gate with many crew members as witnesses. It didn’t grow into an actual brawl by some miracle, but the words having been said were quite strong. He had three reports waiting for him in the mail box and one more he expected from the Third Pilot but he wanted to get first-hand accounts before reading those.

Before he had a chance to announce himself, the door slid open and he ended up face-to-face with Daneshwar. Doctor blinked in surprise then smiled gently. “Ah, captain. It’s good you are here.” He stepped through and let the door close behind him. His voice was gentle as he continued. “Don’t push him too hard, we washed all the intoxicants out of his system but it is never a pleasant process. He’ll have a headache until the painkillers kick in and then he’ll feel nauseous because of the painkillers.”

“I promise to not interrogate him. Just a couple of questions.”

Daneshwar chuckled slightly and nodded then went to one of the other doors that lead to his office. Dr Bhagooli always looked impeccable: his salt and pepper hair perfectly trimmed and combed back, his face clean shaven, his well-ironed white coat contrasting with his brown skin and black suit underneath. He often said that this is what he owes to his patients. Nick was almost sure this was not a jab at Clara’s usual mess of a look.

Nikolai took another breath, stepped through into the examination room and waited for the door to close behind him before saying anything. The room was small and had several couches and a body scanner. Paolo sat on the corner couch, side of the forehead pressed to the cold wall and eyes closed. His face had a greenish shade, not the olive writers used when they described certain skin tones but actually olive of a sick person. His hair was wet and in disarray in stark contrast to his usual immaculate hairdo. He wasn’t wearing his boots or jacket and his white t-shirt was soaked through at the top and stuck to his chest. It seemed like he put his head under the shower after he vomited earlier due to the sobriety treatment. He still had a catheter plugged into the port on his arm (this was a military implant; though lately, it had only been used for intoxication treatment. And intoxication deployment.) but it was no longer connected to a dripper.

All in all, he looked pitiful.

Nick walked over and sat on the opposing bench with a little huff. Paolo opened one eye a smidge, recognised him, and closed it, a frown getting deeper on his forehead. They sat in silence for a full minute before Nikolai finally said: “Will you tell me what happened or do you want me to open with prompting questions?”

Paolo’s voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “It was my first shore leave this year, and I planned to return to my cabin and sleep it off and take meds if that wasn’t enough. You didn’t have to tell them to pull me through this hell.”

Nikolai blinked, confused at first. Ah, he must be talking about the intoxication part. Honestly, that was the least of their problems. “You never gave me reason to not trust you to be in perfect shape during your shift.” He said gently. Then sighed. “And I didn’t ask them to do this. But clearly, the doctors found it was best to sober you up to avoid further trouble.”

Paolo opened both eyes and glared at him for several moments before closing them again. Another minute of silence passed.

“You had a public fight with Andrew, again.”

This struck a nerve. “Whatever that fuck told you, he fucking started it!” Paolo sat up and immediately regretted it but his pride and anger kept him upright despite his face turning greenish grey. “He’s been turning the whole crew against me. Which I ignored because you asked me to but now he’s doing it to a new pilot!”

Nikolai didn’t ask Paolo to ignore it. He tried to tell that Andrew did not, in fact, try to turn everyone against him. As far as Nick knew, Andrew didn’t have that many social connections on the ship outside of some high ranking stewards (and that was because he personally asked Petra to invite Andrew to crew gatherings, even if he didn’t regularly attend). He asked Paolo to stop thinking everyone was against him and instead think of why. This, obviously, wasn’t how he interpreted it.

“Andrew is doing no such thing.” Nick said calmly and then added hurriedly before Paolo could shout again. “And not because he told me so. I am yet to hear his side of this story. I felt like talking to you was more urgent.”

This gave Paolo a pause. The nausea overwhelmed him again and he leaned back with eyes closed, breathing slowly and deeply. Finally he asked quietly. “You hope to one day replace me with him, with Richard, don’t you?”

This took Nick completely by surprise. Did his general inability to speak openly lead to this weird miscommunication? Did he lead Paolo to believe his skill was in question? Or was it not even about their relationship and a much deeper and older problem that both of them chose to ignore?

“Paolo. There is nobody on this ship I would trust in the Chief Pilot’s seat other than you.” Paolo opened his eyes and Nikolai made sure to hold his gaze without looking away despite the discomfort it caused. “I believe you are qualified. I believe you are able to keep cool in dangerous situations and do everything to guarantee the safety of the crew and the passengers. I am not looking to replace you with anyone, licences or not.” Paolo closed his eyes again: he didn’t believe this; refused to believe it… was afraid to believe it, perhaps. “Whatever criticism I may have aimed at you was not in an attempt to get rid of you. All I want is for you to get even better. To be what I could not be.”

Paolo’s face scrunched, the nausea of the sobriety treatment mixed with unhappiness about what had just happened was clearly too much. Nick got up and moved to sit next to him instead, wrapped his arms around him and pulled his head to his shoulder. Paolo didn’t cry, of course. And they were not hugging. Nothing had just happened and they would not talk about it ever again.

Half an hour later, after Paolo washed his head once again and brushed his newly wet hair back, Nikolai cleared his throat and said in a neutral voice: “You will apologise to Mr Richard for your behaviour.” And receiving a glare, he added. “You don’t have to make it public. But it has to be in person and not via a message.”

Paolo huffed as he put on his jacket (he obviously didn’t want to zip it up but had to because his t-shirt was still wet) and then slipped his feet into the boots. “Will you make Haasan do the same?”

“Obviously. After I talk to him.”

“And he convinces you it was only my fault.”

“Paolo.”

“Fine, I’ll apologise.” And they walked out of the doctor’s office, neither Clara nor Daneshwar saying a word to them.