Amir had no idea what this stranger was so pleased about. He shot him a helpless look. The middle-aged man seemed like he belonged to the upper class—neatly dressed, polite in speech… shame his brain wasn't wired right.
The man stiffly raised his arms a little. "With a problem like mine, I doubt I'll ever get Doctor Kaharman to treat me."
That immediately struck Amir as odd. He turned to him with a questioning look.
The man was talkative. Seeing Amir's confusion, he perked up and lowered his voice, explaining, "You came here without learning anything first? Even with an appointment, it doesn't mean you'll get to see Doctor Kaharman. He only takes patients that interest him. Everyone else gets handled by his assistants. But someone like your friend… he'll definitely be interested."
"What's wrong with you?" Amir finally asked. The question could be taken the wrong way, but Amir meant it sincerely.
The man didn't overthink it. He shook both arms. "I need these two arms replaced. This is the best place in the whole sector for implants—Doctor Kaharman's a specialist. But lately he only takes full-body conversion jobs. Someone like me can only hope his assistants slap on a standardized replacement… still way better than the junk I've got now! Once they break, it hurts like hell just to move!"
His grimace suggested he'd moved too much.
"Harley Mann, Treatment Room 8." A broadcast sounded from near one of the operating-room doors.
"Oh, that's me. I've gotta go—catch you later!" Harley said, carefully standing up. He kept his arms pressed tight against his body, like he was afraid they'd wobble and fall off.
"Does he have a pot lid too, like the guard outside?" Millisyn asked through a mouthful of pastry, her words slurred.
"Yeah. Pretty cool, right?" Amir said.
"Looks awesome! I want one too!"
"Don't even think about it."
Your arms are fine—don't start fantasizing about replacing them. Amir liked cyberware, sure, but he wasn't about to throw away a perfectly good body. And he definitely wasn't going to let Millisyn develop that kind of idea.
"Mmm." Millisyn went back to stuffing her face. She'd probably forget about it as soon as she swallowed. Amir had no idea how such a small body could eat that much—she was like a juvenile Gamorrean with a kid's face.
Outside the main operating room, the indicator light switched from red to green.
The doors opened, and an Adynian in a white coat stepped out. Wrinkled pale-gray skin, short stature, and the signature four arms—Amir recognized him instantly from Paks's description.
"You must be Amir!" Kaharman was nowhere near as cold as Amir had expected. If anything, he was downright enthusiastic—he even wrapped Amir in a double-hug with all four arms.
"Paks should've told you—I want to borrow your equipment," Amir said, getting straight to the point.
"Of course. The equipment's right here; use it anytime. I'll personally analyze your results," Kaharman said.
"Thank you." Amir's gratitude was genuine. "Also… a friend of mine has some complicated injuries. He's in a medical pod. I'll probably need your help with him too."
"Mhm. I'll take a look."
Amir studied the refined, courteous Adynian and thought, So where's the terrifying lunatic Paks warned me about? This guy seems perfectly pleasant.
"GH-5?" Kaharman called, looking for the medical droid.
A reply came. The door to the pod room opened and GH-5 floated out.
The moment the door opened, Kaharman spotted the diagnostic report in GH-5's grasp. He took it naturally and began reading.
"So this is your friend's report… body condition normal, skin severely damaged… everything else excellent… huh?!! Huh??!!"
Halfway through, Kaharman's eyes bulged. His breathing grew heavier. He shoved past the medical droid and strode straight toward 032.
Amir followed. The reaction didn't surprise him—032's body had to be full of anomalies: spontaneous skin necrosis, unknown subdermal structures, and the fact he could survive in vacuum.
If anything, 032 was far more worthy of scanning and research than Amir.
Amir had hoped to find answers after Paks decrypted the stolen files—but now it looked like Kaharman could start digging immediately.
Just like Harley had said, 032 had grabbed Kaharman's full attention. Kaharman opened the pod and began running additional tests, working as he muttered to himself.
"Incredible… incredible… and he's still alive. How are these systems maintaining equilibrium…"
Watching Kaharman pace around on a hoverboard, deep in thought, Amir didn't want to interrupt. Thankfully GH-5 floated over and guided Amir to another room first—for a basic checkup.
Amir left Millisyn and BD-4 outside and headed deeper into the building. The place was far larger than it looked—more than a dozen rooms lined the corridor. Most were occupied. The clinic clearly had a reputation. Even if most patients were handled by Kaharman's assistants, those assistants were still top-tier physicians—and the facility had plenty of high-end equipment.
Amir entered a dedicated scanning room and lay calmly on the central platform. Machines activated over his body, running in synchronized arcs.
It was only a preliminary exam, so it finished quickly. Amir had just sat up when he heard hurried footsteps outside.
No way Kaharman tore himself away from 032 long enough to check on me, Amir thought, oddly touched.
The door slammed open.
Kaharman burst in, pushing a hoverboard.
"Move, move—I need to scan this body!" The Adynian waved Amir off the platform with the two hands he wasn't using to steer.
Then Amir saw what was on the hoverboard.
Amir froze—stunned. Paks hadn't lied. This man was absolutely not normal.
Millisyn came running in behind him with BD-4.
"What are you doing? Is that safe for him?" Millisyn demanded, staring at Kaharman. 032 had clearly just been yanked out of the pod—medical fluid still clung to him, making him look even more grotesque.
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🌌 Star Wars: Relics of the Past
📢 The Force Calls! 📢
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