"Where's the child?" Din Djarin asked bluntly.
And the other man had better answer just as bluntly.
"H-here, here. I only took a little blood from him. I—I volunteered for this assignment to protect them!" The young researcher pushed forward a hovering, oval-shaped cradle from behind him. He popped the lid open, and a small green little one stared out with wide eyes.
"What are you going to do to him?" the young researcher asked, trembling as if he'd forced himself to find a shred of courage again. The person in front of him was soaked in killing intent—he was terrified that one wrong move would cost him his life.
"Not your concern." Din Djarin stepped forward and pulled the cradle toward himself. He didn't lower his blaster. Backing away, he moved toward the door.
The researcher didn't dare move until that terrifying figure vanished from the room. Only then did he finally exhale—still too scared to stand—so he crawled back behind the surgical table and hid again.
An elevator ride of under a hundred floors passed in the blink of an eye.
Amir stepped out through the opened doors.
He scanned the surroundings and found himself inside the port on Level 101. The spacious landing bay in front of him held no ships—most likely already deployed to fight.
Amir turned immediately and headed inward. His target was the command hall.
He casually slapped a few charges onto the wall as he moved. Before long, he found a massive door. Standing outside it, he could already hear frantic voices inside.
With a light sideways sweep of his right hand, the huge door mechanism obediently opened.
The Professor—standing at the command dais—looked up and saw a boy he'd never seen before at the entrance. Golden hair. A brown-gray robe. One pack on his back and another slung front-and-back, with a small droid perched on top.
The boy calmly reached behind himself, pulled out a few charges, and tossed them onto a nearby load-bearing column—then tossed a few more onto the wall.
The Professor's uncertainty spiked, but then his eyes caught the lightsaber in Amir's hand. A shiver ran through his whole body. Panic flooded his face.
"Quick! Intruder—attack him!" the Professor shouted at his guards. In the room were two combat droids and four stormtroopers. They raised their weapons and aimed at Amir.
Seeing the muzzles swing onto him, Amir didn't panic. He expanded his Force sense.
Farther away, the two combat droids suddenly made grinding, creaking sounds. Their gun-arms stiffly rotated—re-aiming at the stormtroopers standing in front of them.
The droids opened fire.
The four stormtroopers never imagined the droids would turn on them. With no defense at all, their backs were punched full of dense holes by blaster fire. They died instantly.
After that, both combat droids began sparking violently. With a crackling snap and pop, they collapsed—then detonated in violent explosions.
Most combat droids shared similar construction. Amir understood them well. The droids here followed the same standard patterns, so Amir tried controlling them through their circuitry.
It worked… barely.
But it was mentally taxing and inefficient. Just two droids—he would've saved more effort simply cutting them apart.
The Professor and the remaining technicians were completely thrown into panic. For his own safety, the Professor had kept a small squad of stormtroopers and two combat droids at his side—and they'd been erased in a single exchange. And the method had been so bizarre.
Amir ignored the powerless noncombatants and walked straight to the giant central computer, examining it as if no one else existed.
The dataset was too massive. His bracer storage couldn't hold it.
Amir turned to the Professor. "Give me a storage drive."
The Professor's eyes went wide.
You came here to rob us, didn't even bring a proper container, and now you want the victim to supply the bag?
But he didn't dare refuse. He ordered a technician to bring over a rectangular storage stick.
Amir took it with the Force and placed it directly against a wireless transfer port on the computer.
"Key," Amir said.
He could crack it, but it would waste too much time.
The Professor looked unwilling, but under Amir's cold stare, he shuffled to the console and inserted a cylindrical key module into the system.
Copying began.
Amir tapped his fingertip lightly against the edge of the command table. The entire room became unnaturally silent.
He wanted to toss a few more charges just for good measure—then realized, reaching into his pack, that he didn't have many left.
BD-4 looked like it could barely keep its footing on the bag.
Amir lifted his gaze and studied the room: black stone flooring, alloy walls, cold lights cast around the perimeter, a row of instruments in one corner, and the giant computer in the center.
It all felt… familiar.
Suddenly, Amir's heart began to pound. He knew where this was.
His foresight—right before he and Pax moved out downstairs.
The robed figure. The dark room.
This was it.
Everything he'd seen in that premonition was happening in this room.
In Amir's senses, a cold current in the Force was approaching.
No way… Amir flicked his eyes to the walls. If he ran now, would it even matter?
Before Amir could move, the front doors opened slowly.
A familiar black robe filled his vision.
"The Sith Emperor…" Amir recognized him instantly. With the warning of foresight, he'd already suspected it—so he wasn't as shocked as he might have been.
The dark side surged forward. Just like in the vision, an irresistible pressure slammed into Amir's body. The dark side began gnawing at his mind, and fear started to grow on its own.
Amir wrapped his entire body in light-side Force energy as fast as he could. The pressure immediately eased, and the mental corrosion halted.
The Sith Emperor removed his hood, revealing a pale, twisted, monstrous face.
"You've become a Jedi," Darth Sidious said, looking at Amir with mocking amusement.
Amir didn't answer. He glanced at the copy progress bar.
24%.
Still a while.
Amir tightened his grip on his lightsaber.
"Who's your teacher?" Darth Sidious said, as if considering it. "Let me guess—Obi-Wan Kenobi."
It sounded like a question, but his certainty was absolute.
"You chose a very, very wrong path, my child. The Jedi are dead. Follow a failure, and you'll only become weaker. You'll never truly grasp what you want."
Darth Sidious watched Amir's silence and his cold expression. At last, irritation crept in. His face turned cruel, and he thrust out his right hand.
Amir immediately invoked Force defense at full strength, locking a solid shield around his body. But against the oncoming force, even that all-out barrier began to strain and scream as if it were buckling. Amir felt everything he could sense drown under the dark side—like the whole world was pressing down on him.
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STAR WARS: RELICS OF THE PAST
🌌⚔️ STAR WARS: RELICS OF THE PAST ⚔️🌌
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📢 THE FORCE CALLS AGAIN! 📢
Star Wars: Relics of the Past has 100+ chapters ahead available on Patreon! 🌠🛰️
Ancient secrets, forgotten relics, Jedi echoes, and buried truths wait in the shadows of the galaxy.
✨ Some things were lost for a reason.⚔️ Some powers should never be awakened.🌌 And some stories begin long after history tried to erase them.
Follow the trail of ancient relics before the rest of the galaxy catches up.
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🛑 ALSO AVAILABLE ON PATREON:
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