"None of that matters," Kaharman said again. "Give me your hand."
Amir was confused, but he still held his arm out.
In the next instant, Kaharman moved faster than Amir could react—slash—he nicked Amir's forearm with a small cut.
"What are you doing?!" Amir saw it happen, but he couldn't stop it—Kaharman had four arms: two pinned Amir's arm in place while another hand brought the blade straight in.
A sharp sting flared. Amir stared at Kaharman, waiting for an explanation.
"Heh. Anesthetic's in short supply," Kaharman grinned, "but—look!"
He pointed at Amir's wound.
Amir lowered his head. Blood welled up immediately from the cut.
Kaharman snatched an alcohol swab and wiped the blood away with practiced ease—and only then did Amir notice what was different.
"A membrane?" Amir blurted, shocked.
He'd been injured before, but he'd never noticed anything like this. Even if he had, he probably would've dismissed it without thinking. But after watching No. 032's surgery, Amir recognized it instantly.
"Looks like my hypothesis was right," Kaharman said.
"You mean…?" Amir had a guess.
"Exactly. The gene insertions in both of you should be similar—except something far more remarkable happened in your body. Clearly, your mutation was the more successful one."
Amir stared at his wound. So does that mean I can do a spacewalk without any protection? The thought was… kind of exciting.
"I strongly advise you not to," Kaharman said, as if he could read Amir's mind. "Resisting pressure only works if the membrane remains perfectly sealed. You don't have purrgil-grade hide. One scrape, and you're done."
"Uh… right." Amir sighed.
They kept discussing the finer points of the test as they headed toward No. 032's room.
Millisyn and BD-4 came sprinting toward them. "He—he woke up!"
The moment they heard that, both of them hurried out.
No. 032 was already sitting up inside the medpod. The bacta fluid inside had stimulated what remained of his organic tissue to self-repair, helping it integrate more tightly with the machine interface.
No. 032 looked around blankly, then shifted his gaze to his mechanical arms.
The same open-frame design exposed the silver alloy "muscle" lines beneath a black exoskeleton. When he moved his arm slightly, the intricate inner mechanisms could be seen working.
With nano-scale neural coupling, the machine could be felt as fully, naturally, as flesh.
No. 032 raised a hand and touched his face. Most of his head—his face included—was no longer original. Much of it had been replaced with alloy bone structure and realistic synth-skin. One eyeball had nearly died and had been replaced with a cybernetic eye; the other was intact and had been preserved.
And then there was the gleaming bald head.
He didn't seem to mind any of it. He closed his eyes slowly, tipped his chin up a fraction, and seemed to simply… feel.
To Amir's senses, the Force within No. 032 was no longer dark and rotting. It had stabilized—radiating a coherent, living harmony.
Only then did Amir remember: from the moment No. 032 had been born to now, he had never gone a single second without being tortured by physical and mental pain. He might not even know what "normal" felt like.
Now that his shattered body had been replaced, the constant agony that had clung to him had been reduced drastically. The sensation was completely new—so precious he was savoring it in silence.
After a long while, under the gazes of Amir, Kaharman, Millisyn, BD-4, and Euphemia, No. 032 opened his eyes.
He parted his lips slowly, like he was trying to speak. Residual bacta slid out through the gap.
"C'mon, kid," Kaharman urged, like a proud parent waiting for a first word. "I installed the vocal synth I'm most proud of!"
No. 032 looked at Amir, as if he'd finally found the path to speech.
"Thank you," he said.
Amir shook his head—no need—and stepped forward with Kaharman to help him out.
"Wait—you can talk?!" Millisyn yelped, stunned. "I thought you were a dummy!"
"Millisyn…" Amir warned quietly. It was probably time to start correcting her mouth.
No. 032 looked embarrassed.
"I'm Millisyn, okay? You heard me! And also—Amir and I saved you together."
"Thank you…" No. 032 replied stiffly.
"You're welcome!" Millisyn beamed.
"Alright, alright," Kaharman cut in, impatient with excitement. "Get down here and test out your new body."
After those two "thank you"s, No. 032 fell silent again. Speaking clearly wasn't natural to him yet—maybe he only knew a handful of phrases at all. The files did say he'd spent most of his life in a medpod, never living and learning alongside the other kids.
So it became mostly Millisyn talking—bright and relentless—because she found it fascinating that yesterday's half-dead wreck had not only survived, but been remade into something completely different.
No. 032 understood her well enough. He just nodded—again and again.
Before long, Millisyn ran out of steam. She sank into a chair, and without realizing it, fell asleep—smiling.
"You found me… how?" No. 032 adapted to his new body quickly. When he finally sat down, Amir asked the question.
No. 032 pointed at Amir's backpack. He reached in, took out the signal jammer, and switched it off.
That was fine. Every one of Kaharman's treatment rooms had signal-shielded walls—meant to reduce external interference with sensitive instruments. For Amir, it was perfect cover.
After that, No. 032 pointed to his own head.
Suddenly Amir felt that same strange flow of information pour into him—and with absolute clarity, he sensed the source location of the signal.
Right in front of him.
The same purrgil-like "locking" ability. So they hadn't been wrong.
Amir's eyes lit up. "How did you do that?"
No. 032's mouth moved again, slowly—like he had to build the sentence piece by piece. After a long pause, he finally said:
"Focus."
"Focus on your brain?" Amir guessed.
No. 032 shook his head, then traced a motion outward from his head with his finger.
"Focus… outward? Expand it?"
No. 032 lowered his gaze, thought for a moment, then nodded—basically: Yes. That.
Amir knew his interpretation might not be perfect, but the core idea felt right.
So Amir closed his eyes and focused his attention into his brain—
And instantly, the flow-lines of the Force became crystal clear.
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🌌 Star Wars: Relics of the Past
📢 The Force Calls! 📢
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