What kind of logic is that? Why would I go up and kick him? I meant going up to help him up.
This is an outlaw haven—no one's going to try and scam me for compensation, right?
Amir took Millisyn with him and walked toward 032. The biggest reason this experimental subject—who'd been processed around the same time as Amir—was here was probably Amir himself. Otherwise, why would a sickly kid with no identity and almost zero understanding of the outside world show up here by pure coincidence? The moment 032 stepped off the ship, Amir had felt the Force-link between them—032 had been looking for him.
Up close, Amir realized 032's condition was even worse than he'd expected. Beneath the rotting skin you could even see fascia—everything was raw and bloody. After being knocked down by that Snivvian, he'd passed out on the spot.
Millisyn recoiled in disgust and hid behind Amir.
"I've seen him before!" Millisyn said. "Earlier."
032 clearly wasn't kept in a medical pod the whole time—he must have been dragged out for testing too. It wasn't surprising Millisyn had seen him.
Amir handed the food to Millisyn, but she couldn't really hold it, so he hung the bag on BD-4's head and had the droid perch on his shoulder. With both hands free, Amir hoisted the unconscious 032 up.
"We've seen enough. Let's go see the doctor," Amir said. "Looks like we've got one more patient now, too."
"And that—that thing! I want to play that arcade machine!" Millisyn protested.
"I want to play too," Amir said, grinning. "We'll buy two and put them on our ship later. I'm sick of playing dejarik all the time—it's boring. Back on Coruscant, a lot of clubs and bars had machines too, but most of the games were cheap trash. After all the great games Amir had grown up with in his previous life, it was hard to get interested.
At least now, he could write a couple simple games himself for fun.
Supporting a walking disaster, Amir didn't waste time. He headed straight for a nearby building.
It was a cylindrical tower with a sharp spire on top. The spire wasn't just decoration—it constantly received signals from all directions.
This place might be outside the law, but the Empire definitely knew it existed—and had always pretended not to. The Imperial officials in charge got expensive bribes at regular intervals, and the station was also a favorite playground for certain senators. With people like that shielding it, the Empire found it difficult to take direct action.
Even so, the station maintained extremely strong armaments and defensive systems.
The building in front of them used near starship-grade materials. Even if the station's shield failed, it could maintain normal operation independently. It even had its own shielding strong enough to absorb a significant amount of bombardment. Hidden compartments were built into the structure, packed with all kinds of weapons.
If disaster struck, this building—and others like it nearby—could lock together into a hardened fortress and launch a vicious counterattack.
By rights, this should've been the station's core facility… yet the sign out front bore the symbol of a medical institution.
Amir, supporting the unconscious 032, stepped forward. Whether it was coincidence or the Force arranging things, 032 had appeared at the exact moment Amir was looking for a clinic.
The boy—about the same age as Amir—actually reeked of decay. If Amir hadn't confirmed he was still breathing, he would've assumed 032 had been dead for days.
Without wasting time, Amir approached the clinic entrance.
The station was massive, but crowded—too many buildings and too many bodies packed together. Even so, the area in front of this clinic was unusually calm despite being near the busy district. That felt like respect—respect paid to the station's boss.
A guard stood at the door. Amir couldn't even tell what species she had originally been, because nearly her entire body was covered in cybernetics. But Amir knew she wasn't a droid—there was living Force presence inside her.
Her silver-white alloy plating had been painted with colorful patterns—sharp, aggressive, but not gaudy. The open-frame design made the internal motion of the components visible. Unlike the messy sprawl of exposed wiring, what you saw here were clean, elegant modules—pure mechanical aesthetics.
Amir's eyes lit up. Whoever designed this cyberware was an artist. Sure, there was tech that could fully mimic flesh so no one could tell the difference—but then you lost one of the other reasons cybernetics existed.
Like Veronica's left arm. When she was younger, Amir used to help her hide it—now she liked showing the machinery off more and more.
The cyborg woman clearly had experience with people arriving like this. After a brief assessment of Amir and 032, she stepped aside, motioning for the three—no, three and a half—to go in. BD-4 was still, tragically, being used as a pack mule.
Amir badly wanted to ask her who built her implants, but he forced himself to focus. 032's condition was too concerning.
"Keep your voice down," the guard said—her tone soft, human. Amir couldn't tell whether it was synthetic.
The doors opened into a lobby packed with people waiting. Amir's stomach dropped—don't tell me we have to queue…
But a medical droid immediately floated over. It began scanning 032.
It was only a rough scan, but 032 looked bad even without instruments. The medical droid clearly reached the same conclusion.
"This way. Medical pod first," it said evenly, then floated toward a row of treatment rooms. Most were occupied. The open lobby was just a waiting area.
Amir hurried after it. Inside a room, with the droid's help, he stripped 032 and lowered him into a medical pod.
Once 032 was inside, the droid connected nutrient and oxygen lines and began standard diagnostics.
Only then did Amir finally have the chance to pull out the appointment voucher Paks had given him.
"My friend scheduled me with Doctor Kaharman Juarez," Amir said.
"Please wait. The doctor is currently in surgery," the medical droid replied.
So Amir stayed by 032 and waited.
Not long after, the preliminary results came back. The droid reported, "Patient's condition is poor, but there is no immediate threat to life. Initial repair will require time in the medical pod. Please wait outside."
Relieved that 032 was stable—for now—Amir moved to the waiting area. Millisyn and BD-4 were already seated, continuing to eat. Amir sat down as well.
Then a middle-aged man sitting upright beside him leaned over, smiling, and whispered, "Your friend… he looks beyond saving. That's unusual. Very interesting."
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🌌 Star Wars: Relics of the Past
📢 The Force Calls! 📢
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