When you're confined to bed rest, all kinds of thoughts come to mind. Well, I was no exception.
Tell me, my friend, what the... hutt were you thinking when you went up against that death machine? Want to stand out, test your strength? I don't know what came over me, but the factremains — I almost got myself killed. And during the fight itself, it was… very difficult. Holding back anger and rage is not exactly a pleasant task. But, brr, I could imagine the consequences all too well, so I had to make every effort.
And, of course, there was ego. How could I go without it? A Force master with a lightsaber, damn it. A homegrown duelist. One way or another, my body was saved, but my arm…
I glanced down. Hmm. Quite a strange feeling. This metal thing obeys me perfectly, but… I can't feel anything with it. At all. I can touch the bed, but I can't feel the fabric or even the touch itself. Creepy. And in the Force… there's a very strongsense that something is missing — you reach for it, and you can't find it.
It's one thing to watch this on a screen, and quite another to experience it yourself. Of course, the prosthesis was magnificent, but at the same time, it was the most primitive. For lack of anything better, Unduli's Padawan— Barriss Offee herself — used standard parts from a Jedi training droid to create my arm: specifically, joints and servomotors designed for heavy loads, as well as some elements from the hospital's stockpile.
It all looked a bit creepy. No — when everything was assembled, with the shoulder plates attached (what do you want, the whole shoulder had to be replaced), which reached almost to my neck, it was still okay. But when they were removed for testing… it was horrifying. Metal intertwined with synthetic fabric that integrated quite well with both my own skin and the metal, all kinds of metal parts and wires sticking out of it…
However, I can't complain — the cybernetic arm was assembled in just a few hours, which is almost a record. They didn't even have time to paint it, so I could've cosplayed as the Terminator, though there was an even more minimalist style here, yes. It was very similar — only the palm was more advanced. Rubberized pads on the fingers and palm allowed me to hold any object securely, and the joints from the training droid provided greater freedom of movement. In principle, nothing prevents me from bending my arm backward at the elbow — it's more of a psychological barrier.
After the operation, I had to float in a bacta pod for two days to heal the remaining injuries. After that, they installed the remnants of my arm and calibrated it at the same time — it wouldn't be very nice to crush someone's palm into a bloody pulp with a normal handshake. But even after all that, I spent ten days in the hospital. I'm not Skywalker — he lay there for half a day and then ran off to "do good." I had to recover for quite a while, especially since I'd also been stabbed with a sword. However, the time wasn't wasted. At my request, Ahsoka brought my datapad to my room, and I took up "self-education." The restless Togruta herself lived on the corvette, bursting into my room every day like a cheerful hurricane. Ah, youth… well, all right.
First of all, I buried myself in the news reports. I was surprised to learn that our duel with Ventress had ended up on the HoloNet (hackers rule — or rather, "slicer") and had aroused unhealthy interest. I was particularly "delighted" by the Order's reaction. Master Windu, damn him, gave a half-hour speech on the topic of Jedi defenders and unprincipled Separatists. I suspect the Senate was also fed a load of crap about me. Thank the Force I'm not on Coruscant — they would've torn me to pieces. I need to hurry up, finish my treatment, and hide in some hole — just in case, until the dust settles.
Then I started going through the reports from headquarters. Skywalker and Obi-Wan were striking fear into the hearts of the Separatist rear guard, and in the end, on the planet Thule, our Chosen One finally took down the Dark Reaper — for which I'm very grateful. I wonder if he talked to Ulic? Our Afro-samurai Windu also distinguished himself in battle, as did Luminara Unduli and Plo Koon. But the price… in that battle alone, the Republic lost four Acclamators and more than forty thousand clones, along with almost all of their equipment. Geniuses of tactics, my ass. However, the Republic declared it a "grandvictory." I didn't expect anything else…
Battles raged across the galaxy with varying degrees of success. As far as I remember, the CIS will soon launch an attack on Kamino — the "homeland" of the clones. Master Shaak Ti is currently in charge there. The battle promises to be bloody, but who would believe me if I warned them?
Next, I started searching the net for… photos. Of Riyo Chuchi, of course. It's corny, but I wanted to see her every day — even if not in person. Though, in person would be better, of course. I hope I made an impression on her, and that next time we'll be able to communicate more productively. Then I started thinking of a reason to talk to her, which soon turned into a pretty solid plan — I'd promised to help her.
First of all, I used my datapad to register with the Galactic Bank. Under my own name, of course. I had no illusions about outsmarting the specialservices, so I didn't bother with secrecy — it would've been pointless anyway.
Then, slipping out for a walk, I stopped by the Isaribi, after which I took the credits to the nearest bank branch. It was wonderful — no one asked about the origin of the money, and the clerks were extremely polite. Of course, five hundred thousand credits (thirty-five remained on the ship in cash) were transferred to my account.
Next, another company called «Horns and Hooves» appeared in the vastness of the galaxy. Registration cost me five thousand credits, but now I could calmly make the purchases I needed