"You really don't care about anything, do you?" Amir leaned against the doorway, watching Kaharman prepare to operate on 032.
"Oh, my assistant told me everything's fine," Kaharman said, looking innocent. "Also—thank you, Amir. I was supposed to be helping you, and you ended up helping me first."
Kaharman's hand—scalpel in it—paused. He seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment.
Finally, he pushed through the hesitation.
"Listen, Amir… I'm sorry. Pax already decrypted your file and sent it to me. I was going to examine you first, but… this patient is just too tempting." As he spoke, Kaharman couldn't help glancing at 032 again.
"Doesn't matter. 032 needs you more." Amir nodded toward the table. "That said—how exactly are you planning to cut into him?"
"Thank you for not holding it against me. As for him, there's no other option. I've basically got the picture: it's a genetic issue. His cells are constantly necrotizing. Without a medpod, his organs would crash within days. The lucky part is that the gene editing didn't damage his brain—otherwise he'd already be dead."
"And the truly unbelievable part? Huge sections of his genome were forcibly replaced. Any one of those inserted fragments should've killed him… but all of them together somehow reached a fragile equilibrium and kept him alive."
Kaharman lifted his chin. "You saw that—ah, what's her name—the female guard. I can make him like her. Keep only the healthy brain and spinal column, and replace everything else with machine."
Amir hesitated. Turning a person into a full-body conversion wasn't a small decision. What if 032 actually wanted to keep what was left of his ruined body…?
"Good! I approve the conversion!"
He didn't hesitate any longer. Because who in their right mind would want that body? Amir had already felt 032's pain through the Force. For now, Amir was effectively his guardian—so he made the call.
"A conversion? Can I watch?" Millisyn shouted, excited.
"Oh, no no no," Kaharman said with a grin that was frankly unsettling. "Little girls shouldn't watch. It'll be very bloody. You don't want to see flesh flying everywhere, do you?"
It worked—Millisyn visibly shrank back.
"Euphemia—was she your work?" Amir asked, confirming.
"Euphemia? Oh—right, that's her name. Of course I did it! Who else in the galaxy could produce something that perfect?" Kaharman said proudly.
"It is perfect," Amir admitted, eyes bright. "It's basically art. I've built cybernetics myself—I love your style. Can I observe the whole procedure?"
"Of course!" Kaharman lit up. "Better yet, you'll assist me. I'm thrilled you get it. These idiots never understand the beauty of machinery!"
"Exactly!"
"Wait—why can Amir watch and I can't? I want to watch too!" Millisyn jumped in protest.
"Kids can't!" the two of them said in unison.
Millisyn: ╭(╯^╰)╮!
Millisyn ended up alone in the waiting hall, staring blankly at the "all-you-can-eat" card Euphemia had given her while BD-4 sat beside her. Then she remembered: she still wasn't full. She'd been too embarrassed to eat properly in front of strangers—she hadn't even gotten close.
And now she had a card that meant she could eat anything she wanted.
So she bolted.
Euphemia happened to be at the entrance. Seeing Millisyn dash out, she greeted her.
"I'm going to eat! Wanna come?" Millisyn invited the kind person who'd given her the card, BD-4 toddling along.
Euphemia glanced around. Nothing needed her anymore. She nodded.
"They're going to make 032 into someone like you! And they won't let me watch—I'm curious!" Millisyn complained.
Euphemia's hand rested on her own arm. "I like my body, too. But Millisyn… the process isn't something to watch for fun. No one abandons their body unless they're forced. 032 is suffering. This surgery is serious—it's rescue. We shouldn't treat it like entertainment."
"Sorry… Euphemia," Millisyn said softly, her irritation fading.
"Now," she snapped back to excitement almost instantly, gripping the card, "let's go get Kuraka ice cream!"
"Oh, stars—there's actually a gel membrane under his skin," Kaharman said mid-incision, discovering something new. "What kind of deep-space creature's genes did they splice into him?"
"What is that?" Amir asked.
"Creatures that survive extreme environments can develop this. A gel membrane helps them resist near-vacuum conditions and tolerate abnormal pressure. But the membrane itself is fragile—a blade can slice it easily. A lot of deep-space organisms rely on it to survive."
As he spoke, Kaharman separated 032's muscle tissue with meticulous care.
"He's worse than the scans suggested. I don't even know what's keeping him alive. If I weren't as well-read as I am, I'd start believing in gods."
Amir smiled faintly. Gods or not—he knew the Force was real. 032's subconscious was constantly sustaining a thin thread of it, slowing the collapse. Even with organs near dead, they were still struggling to function… but not for long.
Amir kept himself ready, prepared to intervene with the Force if anything went sideways during the operation.
"Good. Neural activity is high. Rejection response…" Kaharman muttered, half to himself. "The weakest I've ever seen—almost anything can be put in there. All right. Prep the power system. Priority is keeping him alive; the rest of the hardware can be installed afterward."
Amir pulled over a hover-tray stacked with the core components.
Kaharman submerged 032 in a nutrient power-fluid—an absolute miracle in surgery. Even isolated organs could remain viable in it for a while. With it, 032's brain could maintain stable activity while the body was replaced.
"All right," Kaharman said, and his whole demeanor sharpened like a blade. "Let's start by giving this kid a new heart."
Amir saw the shift and tightened his focus immediately, even channeling the Force into tracking every detail of 032's condition.
Kaharman had already explained the procedure and key technical steps—especially the neural and brain interfaces, which were completely new territory for Amir. So Amir watched like his life depended on it.
The surgery lasted nearly five hours.
Kaharman maintained precise control the entire time—so practiced that the pace was dramatically faster than it should've been. Amir was certain most elite surgeons would've taken twice as long.
When the final step was complete and the power came online, both of them exhaled hard. Five straight hours of surgical intensity taxed both body and mind to the limit—but both wore satisfied smiles.
"It went smoothly," Amir said.
"Ha… we got lucky," Kaharman replied, voice low with relief. "There were several moments his vitals dropped so fast I thought we were done for."
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🌌 Star Wars: Relics of the Past
📢 The Force Calls! 📢
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