Sitting on the Traveler's couch, Amir slowly relaxed. Without realizing it, he fell asleep.
He had a very long dream. The images kept flickering—scene after scene, some involving him, some unrelated, some beautiful, some painful—flowing through his mind like a current.
At the end of the dream, Amir saw a pale face.
It was his own.
His old self.
The self from before he came to this world.
That version of him parted his lips slightly, as if asking what he would become in the future—whether he would still be lying in a hospital bed, waiting for time to run out.
Amir tried to smile and tell him that everything became unimaginably beautiful—that he could roam freely across an endless galaxy and do anything he wanted.
But he couldn't speak.
The past was the past.
Still, he remembered that moment, because it was him—because it was his past self asking the sky that question.
And his past self had already given him the answer.
Under Sidious's threat of death, Amir had made the same choice as that person.
No resentment.
No bitterness.
No running away.
His heart was still burning. He was willing to leave this world with love in his chest—returning to the Force.
He had even wondered whether he might have merged with the Force once before… only for the Force to refuse him and give him new life instead.
His thoughts faded, and he sank into deep sleep.
...
"Amir Amir"
The voice by his ear woke him. It sounded muffled, like it was coming through a container.
Amir opened his eyes, and sensation slowly returned to his body.
He was in a medpod.
Honestly, lying flat in a medpod really does feel like a high-tech coffin, Amir thought, quietly complaining to himself. He pushed the lid open and sat up—no, not "sat up," more like "popped back to life."
He turned his head and saw Millisyn propping her head beside the medpod, dozing off. Drool had dripped onto the datapad in her hand.
"Oh? Studying?" Amir leaned over to look at the datapad's contents.
It actually was.
So he decided that if she was performing this well, he wouldn't cut back her snacks.
Just then, the door in the distance opened, and Obi-Wan walked in carrying a bowl. "Millisyn, time to eat."
Then he noticed Amir was awake and froze for a moment.
"You can really sleep," Obi-Wan said with a smile. "Three days."
Joy spilled across his face. He looked like a knot had finally loosened in his chest, the shadows around him thinning.
Amir smiled back. "Barely surviving death deserves a few days of celebration."
"How are the children?" Amir asked.
"They've all been settled. For now they're healthy—some individuals… but you don't need to worry. With the data you brought, Ahsoka and the others will find treatment methods soon."
Hearing that, Amir finally relaxed. At least it hadn't all been for nothing.
Millisyn's right hand slipped, and her small blue head went duang—straight into the edge of the medpod.
"Ah! Ow ow ow!" Millisyn jolted awake and tried to stand, but with one hand on her head she leaned back too far, chair and all, tipping over.
Just before she hit the ground, Obi-Wan reached out with the Force. Her head stopped less than five centimeters from the floor, narrowly spared.
Still shaken, Millisyn stared up at the ceiling—then saw Amir smiling down at her.
"Amir! You're alive! You're alive!"
Amir had almost been touched for a second, but seeing Millisyn react like she'd seen a ghost made him feel like he really should limit her snacks after all.
"What do you mean I'm alive? I wasn't dead. And even if I died, I'd come back as a Force spirit to visit you," Amir said, making a deliberately frightening face.
"Ah! Don't! No—don't do that. Just… don't die, okay…" Millisyn's eyes went round with fear.
Amir pulled on the robe Obi-Wan handed him and left the medpod room, stepping out into the Gudrian base.
The base was already built up extremely well. The moment he walked out, Amir saw a whole crowd of children being cared for by Guli'gena's people. The place looked like a nursery now.
Then Amir caught sight of a fully armored Din Djarin sitting in a corner eating porridge.
Mando still hasn't left?
Amir quickly realized why. Din Djarin probably wanted to leave ages ago, but he hadn't brought Razor's Peak here. So he could only wait for Amir to wake up and, in the meantime, eat and drink at their expense.
That wasn't the important part.
Amir's eyes widened as he looked at the small green creature near Din Djarin's feet.
"Don't tell me…"
Amir was genuinely surprised. Sometimes, reality's coincidences were stranger than fiction.
But they also made perfect sense. If Gideon was involved, then the appearance of "Baby Yoda"—Grogu—was already written into the story.
And why did a Mandalorian just happen to be here?
Don't ask.
Ask the Force.
As Amir came out, a bunch of people stepped forward to greet him—Ahsoka, Veronica, Guli'gena, Lango, Chewbacca, Pax, and others. They were all still resting at the base.
After answering a few greetings, Amir hurried back onto the Traveler to change clothes. It was still cold in the valley.
Once he was dressed properly, he felt fully awake again, so he climbed down.
The Resistance group and the children were gathered in the open area, eating freshly made vegetable-and-minced-meat porridge. Amir was starving too, so he went over and filled a bowl.
Warmth slid down his throat into his stomach, and Amir felt alive again. Gudrian tribal cooking really was something else. The birthplace of Malaka fruit didn't disappoint.
"So what happened?!" Veronica asked. Everyone looked at Amir.
"When I went to steal the data, the Sith Emperor showed up—no idea how," Amir said simply. He sounded resigned. Like, come on—an Emperor not sitting in his palace enjoying power, but coming down here to mess with a Jedi apprentice?
A pilot beside them said guiltily, "It was probably that black ship that dropped from the cruiser. It moved too fast—we didn't hit it. We were tangled up with the TIEs and didn't pursue…"
"It's not your fault," Ahsoka cut him off. "None of us expected that. What matters is that the result was good."
Pax finally couldn't hold back his excitement. "We've already set up the relay station. Anytime now we can show the entire galaxy what happened—expose the Empire's crimes! Anyone with a receiver can hear it!"
Everyone got visibly stirred up. This meant everything to them.
"We start broadcasting tonight?" Pax asked, testing the idea. He couldn't wait.
The proposal got unanimous approval.
Veronica volunteered to be the broadcaster. She treasured this victory more than anyone. Ever since her parents had been killed in an anti-Empire action, she'd dreamed day and night of a moment like this.
She'd imagined that if, back then, she could have heard this kind of news—heard that people were still resisting, still fighting the Empire like her parents did, and even winning—how excited she would have been.
Even if her body was in constant pain under the Empire's oppression, her heart would have been soothed. It wouldn't have been dead and silent.
She wanted to be the one to deliver that message.
Outer Rim, an unknown planet.
On barren, dry, yellowed land, there was a small rise with a faint glow leaking out.
A hidden underground dwelling.
Inside, more than a dozen people were resting.
In a corner, someone lifted a heavy cloak. Under it was a young face—a girl. Her skin was gaunt and dry, scattered with distinct freckles. She was still young, but there was a hard steadiness in her eyes, a conviction that didn't belong to her age.
Night again.
She turned on a battered but precious signal receiver, connected it to a radio set, and tuned to a familiar frequency.
This channel was an open secret. On this frequency, someone often spoke—always voices opposing the Empire. Sometimes it was a stirring speech. Sometimes it was a warning about what the Empire planned next. Sometimes there was even information meant for a specific planet, telling people where to go to collect dropped supplies.
It was a bold declaration carried out right under the Empire's nose. The Empire wanted to shut it down at all times, but it never could.
So it became their spiritual ration.
Every time she heard that so many people, far away, were fighting beside her, genuine excitement rose in her chest.
Sure enough, the voice came on time. The entire room fell silent, like they were listening to a high-end concert.
A girl's voice came over the broadcast. She sounded nervous at first, but quickly steadied.
"Ahem… bzzzt—To people in every corner of the galaxy: today I'm here to report an operation. Three standard days ago, our Resistance forces discovered and destroyed an Imperial human experimentation facility in the Mid Rim—Renata Sector, Mugul."
The first sentence triggered a wave of confused murmuring, but the room quickly went quiet again, listening harder.
"This facility's crimes are as follows. Since…" Veronica began listing them one by one—from the abduction of children as test material, to the brutal procedures, to the vile disposal afterward.
Everyone felt anger they couldn't suppress.
Those were children. Innocent children. What kind of monster could calmly place them on an ice-cold surgical table and torment them year after year?
When the list of crimes finally ended, Veronica paused.
The room was so quiet it was frightening. The freckled girl's hands began to tremble. She remembered being a child herself—the pain, the despair—memories she still couldn't bear to touch. And these children had endured something even worse than she had.
Then the broadcaster's voice returned:
"During this operation, we destroyed the facility's foundation and rendered the entire structure unusable. Using high-intensity pulse charges, we estimate all electronic systems were destroyed, experimental data was burned, and the resulting fire cremated tens of thousands of clone bodies."
"Seventeen children were rescued. All are now safe."
When the sentence ended, everyone in the room went still.
They stared at one another, desperate for confirmation—desperate to know this was real.
The freckled girl pressed her lips together and nodded hard at her companions again and again.
For the first time in many years, tears fell from her eyes.
In an instant, the room boiled over. People shouted, laughed, cried—years of suppressed emotion bursting out all at once.
The freckled girl wiped her tears quietly and couldn't help thinking: which comrades achieved this victory? One day… could we meet them?
Scenes like this played out again and again across the galaxy.
For countless people, tonight would be a night without sleep.
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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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