1 New life

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16+ chapter ahead. --------------------------------------------------

I came to my senses six months after I was born. It was not a pleasant time, I remember. To begin with, I never liked milk. Especially steamed milk, straight from the body, so to speak. Warm... brrrr. Add to that problems with sight, hearing, not understanding my surroundings, the unaccustomed size of my surroundings, and my lack of all communication. Oh, yeah, I couldn't even go to the bathroom. Shitting in front of myself is... I should have remembered that for nothing. On top of everything else, I could feel my parents' emotions. At least it was just theirs. And considering that in my previous life I hadn't noticed anything like that and couldn't recognize anything, you can imagine the extent of my comfort. I could not even just lie down and study the ceiling. It was only at night that I calmed down. And over the years, that ability... ...dulled over the years. What else can I say? Until about two or two and a half years my new body had only two emotions - laughter and crying. I was great with my parents.

But all bad things, as well as good, by the way, sooner or later ends. We just do not always notice this transition. People, what to take from us, like cockroaches to everything we adapt. In short, gone and my breastfeeding times. I won't say that everything has become awesome, but that it is easier - it's a fact. As soon as my body got strong enough, I started to learn to walk. It was both laughable and sinful. But all in all, it was like riding a bike. Only longer.

- Come on, kid," my father said, holding my hands, "one foot in, two foot out.

Fuck you, big boy! What fucking legs? They're stumps. Kool-asses!

- Come here, my darling. Come to Mommy.

Why don't you come to me? Oh, man, if it wasn't for your emotions, I'd have told you to go away for a long time.

We had to practice at night. This parenting was not only unhelpful, it was also very annoying.

Before I could see properly, I thought I was back in time or in some other medieval world-the clothes my parents wore were so archaic. Tunics, cloaks, some inexpressive dresses. Our house didn't look modern, either-more like a hobbit's hole. In justification, it wasn't often that I was taken out of the nursery. It was the first time I'd ever been in our kitchen that I became aware of my wrongdoing. Where I heard the plumbing. The faucet was missing, and all I could see was the sink. What I did hear was the sound of water pouring in and out. And then my dad bought some kind of dishwashing machine for the kitchen. Actually he did more than that, but the first and only thing I saw at first was a dishwasher.

Every day and month I noticed more and more. In the hallway is a clothes closet with an auto-cleaner. Not a washing machine, of course, but it will get the dust off. The same washing machine built into the bathroom wall. The holes in the ceiling all over the house turned out to be climate-controlled. And what was going on in the garage.... A workbench with a bunch of incomprehensible tools, several robots of different configurations, and a car hanging in the fucking air. The first time I got my hands dirty was when I opened a strange cabinet in my parents' bedroom, which contained a weapon. Futuristic-looking, but undoubtedly firearms. My father, by the way, then spent half a day messing with the armory, unable to understand how I had opened it. He kept asking me how I had done it. What did I do? Not to mention the fact that I, a child who was not even three years old, did not have enough vocabulary, I myself did not understand anything. I went over, jerked it, jerked it again, jerked it frantically. Bam! And the cupboard opened.

A couple of months later, a few days before my birthday, I found out where I was.

That time our family was celebrating some kind of holiday, where ten people were invited, of whom I knew only two - a friend of my father and his wife. I didn't mean ten people, though. Three of them had nothing to do with the human race. Drumroll, they were a couple of Twi'leks, apparently a family, and one zabrak. I could have been wrong about the latter, but who on Earth didn't know Twi'leks? And when I saw them together, I could tell that I was in a certain galaxy. Far, far away. After all that, the recognizable word "Jedi" that popped up in the conversation didn't surprise me much. As a matter of fact, the whole group wrinkled their nose at the mention of Jedi.

It was only in the evening, when my parents had put me to bed, that I realized what an asshole I was in.

First of all, the Star Wars universe is filled to the brim with wars. And I'm not talking about the local wars, which I can't count, but the global, galactic wars. And it's awfully easy to get caught up in one of them. The Yuuzhan War with the wolves is one thing. I was in one of the bloodiest wars, but I don't know what time it was.

Really hit it. My second problem is that I am not a "far, far away galaxy" fan. I've always liked this universe, but not enough to understand it thoroughly. Imagine you're reading a book in the Star Wars series, or a fanfic. Here your eye is hooked on the name of some race. But the book is not a movie, and you want to know what the race looks like. You go to the Internet, find some specialized site, and find out what you need. Sometimes you click on a link and find out something else. Then you find out some more. And then you drop it and go back to the book. Now, I'm not a fan. I haven't read many of those books. Not many, let's face it. True, there are more computer games.... But you have to admit, you can't become an expert on the universe that way. It is true I have always liked this topic, so I know a little more than the average philistine, but lying in bed now, being in a three-year-old calf, feeling my new parents having fun in the company of three non-humans, I am very clearly aware of how little is "a little more".

At least my memory has always been excellent. Too bad it wasn't perfect. I hope I'm in a relatively peaceful time, or else I'm screwed. Unfortunately for me, I even have problems with dates. For the only chronology I know is "PBYA" and "DBYA", that is, after the Battle of Yavin and, respectively, before. What if I got in before that very battle? Then they have a very different chronology here, and that's a fucking thirty-five or forty thousand years.

I'm also worried about my newfound empathy. Personally, I haven't decided if I want to be a Force Wielder, aka a Forsuzer, or not. On the one hand it's cool, but on the other it's cumbersome. And that empathy is pretty weird. In addition to the fact that its power every year is fading, so I feel only parents. I don't understand it, though. Maybe I'm not a Jedi. I mean, not a Forsuzer. The Jedi are an order.

Ah yes, it's also worth considering that this is reality, after all, and may not match the "canon" that I know. Both in general and in detail.

Oh, Lex, Lex.... Well what should you have buckled up in that car, maybe you wouldn't have gotten into such a mess.

A couple of months after I realized where I was, my father took me to the nearest m-m-m-m... town. And he took me in a two-seater speederbike, a sort of analog of the thing the Imperial Stormtroopers liked to ride on. It's a funny name, by the way, isn't it? I know there's no Earth with its English in the foreseeable future. And yet, here it is. However, familiar words from my past life, I met quite often. And not just English, by the way. So I had long since given up on such coincidences.

My mother did not want to let me go with my father. Not on the speederbike. Even when he strapped me to his belly, so that even if I wanted to, I couldn't fall off, even then she resisted. To my mother... what else could I say.

On the whole, I was on her side. It wasn't that I didn't want to get into town, but the motorcycle I associated with the clunker didn't inspire confidence in me. Especially the fact that I wasn't driving it didn't inspire confidence in me. Driver's syndrome, as they say. In my world, I was a racer. A lousy one, yes, but still. I did it because I loved speed, which was not a passionate thing, but it was there, one way or another. And even a car crash that took my life into this universe didn't cut it off. I don't... I don't know. But the aversion to another person driving the car I was driving blossomed. I can now responsibly tell you that.

Oh, come on. My dad had my mother down, and no one asked me.

My dad turned out to be a great biker and got us to town in about forty minutes. At an average speed of about two hundred kilometers per hour. I can't say anything for sure. Personally for me, as expected, the trip was not very pleasant. So it wouldn't surprise me if we got there a little faster. Getting a little ahead of myself, I note that I was not much wrong. It took Daddy an average of thirty minutes to get from us to the city.

The town itself... well... populated, as I said in the beginning. Only two houses above the first floor, and the houses themselves are about two hundred at most.

That first time, my father went there to meet an acquaintance and arrange for a supply of parts for the droids he was fixing. He had a workshop in his backyard for this purpose. The deal was made in a cantina, half bar, half dining room. Going in there, I thought I'd see a whole bunch of different races, just like in the canon cantinas. It turned out to be in vain. Twi'leks and Zabrak were all I saw. Well, I didn't really want to. By the way, I can responsibly say that Twi'lek women are wonderful. I have seldom seen so much femininity and grace in my world. Their men, on the other hand, were, in my unsophisticated opinion, rather ugly on the face. What did the poor creatures see in them? Though I, like any man, though in this body, am partial. But I can't say anything about the brats. It's just like with people - there are handsome ones, and there are ugly ones.

On the whole, it was quite an educational trip.