I was wrenched from the darkness as if struck, sharp and painful. Everything around me was flooded with a white luminescence—unbearably bright and agonizing after the enveloping blackness I had been submerged in.
Unable to endure it, I screamed, deafening myself. Soon my strength was gone, and an unbearable cold washed over the body, which barely obeyed me, as if I had been dumped atop a mountain. What is a mountain? I don't remember, but it's clearly a place that is very cold.
I don't know how long this lasted, but at some point, a sensation of warmth and calm returned to me. Everything nearby felt soft and tender. Consciousness once again drifted away into the saving darkness. The only thought that managed to flash through my mind was: Everything happening here is strange...
I woke up to some noise beside me. They seemed to be speaking, but the language was unfamiliar. And what is my language? What is 'language'? I don't remember, but the thoughts in my head sounded different somehow.
The first things I saw were strange figures that were also rotating for some reason. Why strange? I don't know, but it seemed to me that such things shouldn't be hanging over me. Looking closer, I saw little starships, animals... probably, and something completely incomprehensible.
Someone speaking in the unknown tongue was getting closer and closer. They were answered by clicks and low growls. What is happening? I became scared. Thrashing, I tried to push my hands out, but they wouldn't obey me. The footsteps stopped right nearby, and then a huge human face looked down at me.
It was definitely a woman, though for some reason, she was very large. She gently stroked my forehead. I could feel a pleasant warmth radiating from her in waves. I was picked up. Very carefully, as if my small body might break at any moment, I was brought close to a bare chest.
For some reason, this felt wrong and slightly humiliating. It shouldn't be this way. But why? I don't know. Soon I was returned to my place. And it, too, looked strange. The sense of the incorrectness of everything that was happening flooded my consciousness. I should not be carried in arms and placed into a metallic bassinet, shaped like an egg.
Feeling warm, slightly moist lips on my forehead, I began to drift back into oblivion. I should be thinking about what is happening here, but sleep quickly caught me in its tender embrace. I had no strength to resist...
I don't know how long this life continued. I woke up to eat, and I was immediately put back to sleep. Sometimes I was carried, but even then, my body preferred more sleep. The only distinct memory from this period: the woman wrapped me in some huge cloth and carried me somewhere.
The view was poor, and I frankly slept through part of the journey. I only remember a strange humming, distantly familiar, as if I'd heard it before, but I couldn't recall anything similar. And a smell, acrid and foul. That is how a city smells... And what is a city? Vague images flashed before my inner eye, rapidly replacing one another and disappearing as quickly as they appeared.
I next regained consciousness lying on a table, with a plump, gray-haired man leaning over me. He ran strange-shaped metal objects near my body. Small lights glowed in different colors and periodically beeped. Something painfully pricked my leg. Tears sprang from my eyes, though I tried to hold them back. My own shriek echoed through the dark room. A baby's cry... But I should not be a child... I was picked up and rocked gently, a soft lullaby being sung. My consciousness once more slipped into oblivion.
My next clear memory was when I could hold and turn my head easily. I was again being carried, and allowed to touch various toys. Sometimes I was placed on a soft mat scattered with large balls, blocks, and other children's things.
Now there was no doubt. I was a child. Even though it shouldn't be so, it was. And at that moment, I realized something curious. The moment a ball slipped from my grasp, I intensely, strongly wanted to touch it again. It was so pleasant... And in the next instant, the rough, warm surface touched my palm again... Pleasant... A thought flashed somewhere in the background: I've seen something like this before...
The older I got, the easier it was to think. And at some point, I simply felt that I needed to study the world around me. Everything here was so strange and somehow wrong. An inner voice stubbornly insisted: No, it cannot be this way. Metallic bassinets for infants do not fly. Balls do not attract themselves by magic. Ships do not fly through the sky.
From that moment, my active study of the surrounding world began. However, it started and ended quickly. I was not allowed out of the room; all I could do was lie and turn my head. Sometimes crawl on the floor or babble in conversations with the woman I strongly wanted to call 'Mother.'
It was difficult to determine what was happening outside from the sounds. A mechanical hum, muffled unfamiliar speech, and feminine laughter reached me through the walls. The only thing I managed to figure out was that we didn't live in a house or even an apartment. Maybe some kind of barracks or a hotel? And what are barracks? Well... A place where many people live. Yes, I think so.
At night, loud music drifted up from below. When I dozed, someone broke into the door a couple of times, realized their mistake, and left. There were instances when the stranger was 'helped' by huge shadows, accompanied by the sound of impacts. How do I know what impacts sound like? Uh... I don't know... I didn't have time to process it and fell asleep again. It's complicated...
Once a day, Mother would visit to check on me, read to me, or carry me. Sometimes this warm and kind woman stayed with me for the night. Then I would be taken out of the crib and moved to the bed, where we would fall asleep together. This was very pleasant, as if a small glowing sphere of tranquility and comfort formed around us. As I slept less, my desire to see what lay beyond the room grew stronger.
I tried to get out of the room by every means available to me, but Mother gently yet firmly prevented me. As soon as I crawled toward the door, I would be scooped up and gently carried back to the center of the room. So all I could do was lose myself in speculation: what was out there, beyond that wall?
Time flowed on, slowly and lazily. I learned to crawl quickly enough on all fours. I grew up a calm and obedient child who rarely cried and broke practically nothing. Why would I? It felt wrong somehow... This was probably why I was sometimes left alone on the floor in the room, rather than in the floating crib. And it really did hover above the ground. Which always caused a feeling of unreality. It shouldn't be like that!
But one day, I finally managed to escape.
Catching the moment I was left alone, I crawled purposefully towards the door. I just needed to press the button, and then it would work. And I very, very much wanted it to work. Sitting up, I stretched my little hands forward. I just needed to reach it, and it would happen... Suddenly, the panel chimed, and with a dull hiss, the doors slid apart. I have to run!
I tumbled out into the corridor, which was huge by a child's standards, done in pink-and-burgundy colors. Pictures hung on the walls, though I couldn't make out what was painted on them. From behind closed doors came voices, some puffing, and snoring. But the most noise came from the far end of the corridor, covered by two weighty curtains. They looked too heavy for my small body to pull aside. Looking closer, however, I saw a gap between them, which a child could easily squeeze through.
Puffing earnestly, I crawled toward my goal. My hands and knees were slightly scraped and dirty. Unfortunately, there was no soft carpet in the corridor, only worn wooden parquet flooring. But that won't stop me!
After a few minutes, only the curtains separated me from the noise and commotion. Squeezing through the small gap, I barely avoided being crushed by the heavy curtains that pressed down with all their massive weight. I somehow managed to crawl forward and bump my nose against a wooden platform with railings. Male laughter, loud music, the clatter of utensils, and very appetizing smells drifted up from below.
The huge hall was dimly lit by lamps on the walls. Strangely, the fixtures were also in pink-and-burgundy tones, creating a mysterious gloom. People sat at metallic tables. Some had what looked like pistols on their belts. If only I could remember what those pistols were... In the center of the hall was a circular bar. Behind it stood a droid... Something very familiar was in all of this. The armor and clothing worn by the patrons, this humanoid mechanism indifferently polishing a glass.
Suddenly the light went out. A moment later, a spotlight illuminated a stage. The curtain parted, and a woman swayed out onto the stage, gyrating her hips. A very graceful and beautiful woman; the fluidity of her movements was captivating. I am certain she would be called beautiful, were it not for one fatal incorrectness that I simply couldn't comprehend. Everything in me screamed that this could not exist in reality... she had green skin.
I shook my head, trying to clear the delusion. Two long head-tails swayed rhythmically to her feline movements. But this cannot be! But my gaze found more and more strange details that simultaneously seemed familiar. A droid on three wheels that somewhat resembled a trash can, a couple of patrons very similar to humans but with small horns growing from their heads and faces covered in black tattoos, and several women, very similar to the performer, walking through the hall in very revealing outfits.
In the far corner sat a group of people completely encased in armor and with helmets on their heads; next to each of them stood a jump pack or something similar. There was empty space around this group, as if everyone avoided them. Looking closely, I noticed smoke rising from the barrel of one of the men's weapons. In another corner was a creature completely covered in brown fur and over two meters tall.
Suddenly, someone lifted me from behind and turned me around. In front of me was a terrifying red face; a black goatee and two large horns complemented the already hideous mug. Out of fear, I couldn't think of anything smarter than to headbutt this monster in the nose with all my strength.
He didn't even flinch; he just laughed and gently carried me somewhere. After a couple of minutes of this ride, we arrived in a dark room. It was full of women. All different colors and heights, but all in sheer clothes that barely covered their bodies. Ah, no, wait. My tear-filled eyes spotted a familiar figure. Though I more accurately felt a familiar warmth...
Mother was standing next to one of the women, applying a small bandage to her shoulder. The unusual green-skinned woman winced but endured it. My abductor said something, and my Mother approached him. Handing me over, after giving me a pat on the head, he disappeared behind the door.
Clasping me tightly to her, we quickly flew through the corridors. She kept saying things to me, but I didn't understand anything and felt immensely sleepy. I think sleep caught me even before we entered the room...
Time passed faster and faster. I could now walk calmly and even run carefully and talk a little. The latter happened unexpectedly for everyone. Soon after the incident, Mother began to take me out for walks and to sit with her friends outside the room. Time went by, and I unexpectedly began to understand what they were saying. Now, almost every phrase, though sounding unfamiliar, had its general meaning come through to me.
They were sitting and, as usual, discussing affairs in our city. Frankly, the place was quite something. From their conversations, I gathered that we were very far from the Galactic Core, and consequently, no one cared about maintaining order here. The police patrolled only the wealthy district, and the elite cared absolutely nothing for the rest of the city. Thus, all authority here was held in the hands of pirates, bandits, and thieves. And our establishment was no exception.
It took me a long time to figure out where we lived. But after a few weeks, I recalled the necessary word: Brothel! But Mother seems to be a doctor here, at least, that's what I understood from snippets of conversation...
The women were sitting in their spacious room, discussing the latest rumors:
"Kelly, just imagine," the green-skinned Twi'lek, the one who performed on stage, indignantly exclaimed, "Another upstart tried to chip a piece off our Boss's territory. And he demanded you as severance pay, can you believe it!? Said he didn't need anyone but you."
"I take it Koven sorted the situation out?"
"He practically shortened the guy by a head, oh, these attempts of his at nobility. A duel, instead of just shooting the scoundrel, that's all."
"How practically?" asked one of the women sitting on the couch.
"The scumbag ran away. The Boss started playing noble, and this upstart didn't get the point. When the Boss almost cleaved his head in two, his guys started firing. By the time everyone else was killed, the guy had managed to escape. I would have added a little something extra for you, friend. But don't worry, with a scar like the one the Boss left, the bastard will be found quickly." The Twi'lek expressively demonstrated what she would have done to the guy. Overall, I agreed with her and let out a happy coo. "Look, your son thinks so too."
"He'll grow up to be my brave protector, won't you, little one?" She affectionately ruffled my hair. "Will you protect Mama?"
"Of course, I will, Ma."
Everyone looked at me, and I looked at them. It didn't immediately register what I had just done.
"You spoke your first words!" I was picked up and swung around the room. Her joy was so contagious that I laughed happily. "My sweet boy!"
Congratulations poured in from all sides. Everyone wanted to pet and cuddle me. Through the drone of voices, one broke through, silencing everyone:
"Count me in," a deep bass voice sounded from the doorway. "It's nice to see such touching moments in this establishment."
"Hello, Boss." The women stood up and bowed simultaneously.
Standing in the doorway was the two-meter-tall humanoid. This was the same sentient who found me during my first excursion. Most of all, he resembled a demon. At least that's how my consciousness described him. Red skin, horns, a beard, great height, but counter to his appearance, he was a good guy. Which was also definitely incomprehensible, but was a hard fact cemented in my head.
"Oh, come on, I told you when we're alone you can address me casually. We haven't been working together for the first day, for the good of our shadow front." Quiet chuckles were heard from all sides. I didn't get the joke, but I smiled too.
"Well, you say that, Boss," the Twi'lek replied, putting her hands on her hips. "You are our superior, which means you must always be addressed...?" Raising a finger to the ceiling, she paused and continued, "That's right, re-spect-ful-ly." She then looked at me and asked, "Am I right, Set?"
"Ya."
"Say, Boss."
"Bof."
"Don't teach the child bad habits!"
"How could I, Boss?"
Mother did not participate in the conversation and merely smiled, watching them. "Let's go to sleep, Set, you're already sleepy." And indeed, my eyes had practically sealed shut without my even noticing.
By the time I turned four, I was actively studying everything I could. The surrounding world beckoned to me. There was so much unusual and interesting stuff here. Though I was not allowed near the most engaging things. After I stole a device from the head waiter and tried to figure it out, inevitably breaking it, I got such a whipping from the Boss that it hurt to sit down. Unfortunately, I deserved it, so I couldn't even complain. Ugh, I need to grow up quickly, or else I'm not allowed anywhere. It's so frustrating when you have a huge desire but can't do anything.
There was an outlet, though: the opportunity to help with the restaurant work. I mostly operated on a system the head waiter described as: 'fetch and carry, now go away and don't get in the way.' Drinks, notes from clients to the girls, and other small things all required delivery. Sometimes I even got a few credits from particularly generous or drunk clients. Small change, and in the context of our Outer Rim, practically useless currency, but still money.
This kind of currency was popular near the Core and the Inner Worlds, which were stable and rich. But we were like unwanted colonies—we exist, but no one cares. So, credits weren't in common use here, but the criminal currency of the Hutt space was highly respected. Huge slugs who somehow managed to carve out a significant portion of the galaxy for themselves.
The most surprising thing is that everyone knows about this mafia, but no one does anything about them. They issue their own currency, and all criminals, bounty hunters, and other scum actively flock under their wing.
All my knowledge grew from conversations I inadvertently overheard from clients or staff. Plus, self-education by relentlessly bombarding everyone I could with questions. I was interested in everything. Even now, the feeling of some kind of unreality about what was happening never left me.
Speaking of clients, I had a special ability that also brought in a small but steady income. I could sense when someone was about to start a fight. A field, unpleasant and tingling, seemed to form around such a person. At first, no one believed me, but after I pointed out problem clients ten times in a row, my voice gained weight.
I don't know how I did it. But over all this time, I had become so used to not understanding something that I stopped being surprised by it. Whatever the case, I was successful in delivering small orders while dodging clients walking back and forth, and finding troublemakers. The Boss even gave me a small bonus for identifying such individuals and relaying the data promptly so the guards could react quickly.
After work, I had the chance to go outside, though at first, it was problematic. As soon as I walked a hundred meters from the building, the neighborhood kids would start harassing me. At first, I ignored them, but after a while, they started throwing stones and generally bullying me.
"Go away, trash."
"Son of a whore."
And who cares that it wasn't true and my Mother was a doctor, not a prostitute? The main thing was that it was a perfect excuse to pick on someone weaker. It's funny that many of them lived a far worse existence than I did. Some had parents who were into gambling or drugs, if the rumors were true; some had simply died. The stone jungle had its own code of laws. And following one of them, the children wanted to vent their anger on me.
Every time after a fight, I vowed to stay home and would sit there all day, entertaining myself with small mischief, work, or the rare opportunity to pester someone to teach me to write. I could speak passably well, but I couldn't read or write at all. And Mother thought her child was still too young for that.
Sometimes I went with the girls into the wilderness, where the Boss took us along with his security. But because I was the only child, I was bored, and the adults would generally coo over me, then wave me off and continue their conversation.
True, with each passing year, the situation outside got worse. One gang of little runts was replaced by another. We fought, of course. If it weren't for my strange abilities, I would have been beaten much worse. Thankfully, it never came to weapons; everyone who wanted to fight came at me with their fists.
But when I turned six, the rules changed. The latest street urchin who fancied himself the king of the kids actively used a metal club. Some tried to fight him, but everyone was simply crushed. I stayed on the sidelines and didn't interfere. Up to a certain point. I had managed to hide the traces of fighting from Mother before, but this time, a blow caught my face. A scratch, but there was a lot of blood. And I didn't want to be late for work.
In short, when I came home with a split eyebrow for the first time, I could barely stop the righteous fury of Mother and her friends. If it hadn't been for the Boss, the problem could have spiraled out of control.
"It is not fitting for a man to hide behind a woman's skirt."
"But he's just a child!"
"That's true, but he must solve his own problem," I could feel the raging fury my Mother was in; I'm sure in a moment she would have physically attacked the Boss. He must have felt something similar, too. "But that doesn't mean we won't help him."
"And what do you propose?"
"You? To calm down. Ladies, take Kelly to rest and bring her something to drink, and Set and I will discuss this matter."
"But—" I saw she wanted to object.
"Mom, I'll handle it. I want to be like Uncle, so I must act like him, and he doesn't hide behind women."
You could see how worried she was, but she finally relented. "Alright, but please, be careful. If anything happens to you..."
"Don't worry, I'll watch over him."
Her gaze was more eloquent than any words: if anything happened to me, the Boss wouldn't live. Only after this did she allow her friends to lead her away.
We went to his office. A small room, but beautifully furnished with expensive furniture, it made an impression. Making himself comfortable in a leather chair, which cracked mournfully under his massive body, he offered me the seat opposite him.
"Alright, Set, what do you think the main problem is?" Seeing my bewildered look, he continued, "Don't pretend; you understand much more than your peers. Others don't notice, but I see it. You and I are alike."
"Do you feel it too?"
"You mean the Force? Yes. For most, it's nothing more than a myth, but that's not true. I'm weak but gifted. And you are stronger than me in that regard, much stronger. But right now, we're talking about you. So?"
"I need people." The plan had been brewing for a long time. And the frequent skirmishes showed that in a one-on-one fight, I had an advantage over my opponent. So why not use it?
"Why?"
"I saw who their main instigator is; without him, everything will fall apart. If I beat him, they will be afraid."
"And can you do it? I guess who you're talking about, but he's two years older than you."
"Undoubtedly. As you said, I see, hear, and feel more than other children. So, I will emerge victorious from the fight."
"Hmm... People... I'll find you a few kids who run errands for us. Will four people be enough for you?"
"More than enough."
The plan, which I named "The Snare," was put into action three days later. The Boss really did send some kids, seven or eight years old. They were clearly unhappy, but they wouldn't go against the chief's orders. As that good-hearted demon said: "Discipline and the habit of obeying orders must be instilled from childhood."
The idea was simple. I lure my tormentors into an alley, and my helpers block both sides. If we all pile on, it will just be a common street brawl; if it's one-on-one, no problem. I think my abilities are enough to win. Plus, in terms of height, I look more like a seven-year-old than a six-year-old.
Stepping out onto the street at the agreed-upon time, I saw the gang of little runts in their usual spot. They were sitting on a pile of stone slabs once meant for house construction. Perched at the top was the street's main bully. I don't know his name, but his nickname was something like Cat, Mole, or just something animalistic.
I walked, pretending not to see them. When I was less than five meters away, a small stone hit me. Sometimes I could feel where the blow would land. This mostly happened when heavy, harmful stones were thrown at me, but this time, just small gravel hit my shoulder, nothing serious.
"Go away, trash," one of the boys sitting closest to the Mole whined. "You're not welcome here."
"I'm not happy to see you either. Can you move your slithering hides from my spot?" This was a supreme insult. I had personally seen them beat up boys from neighboring streets for occupying that very spot.
"Get the bastard!"
At the leader's command, the whole pack rushed after me. Just what I wanted. I ran, not too fast; I had to whet their hunting excitement. I dodged a couple of large stones. The crowd of boys ran after me, whooping and hollering.
Here was the turn I needed. Rounding the corner, I stopped at the opposite exit. It clearly stank of waste here. There were holes in the walls made by local pests. But this place was still the best of all possible options. When the whole mob of angry boys had crowded in, my helpers blocked the exits. The bullies slowed down and began to look around nervously.
Five against seven; it seemed to be in their favor, but the Boss's boys were known and feared. Well, it was time to begin Act Two: the same cast, in the alley.
"You are so brave," I put my palm to my cheek, feigning such artificial admiration that it was impossible not to notice. "All seven of you piling onto poor little me, and now you're trembling. Well, I propose a deal. The Mole fights me. One-on-one, no interference." I gave the guys a moment to process what they just heard. Slow, barely noticeable smiles spread across their faces. Excellent, continue. "If I win, you never bother me again. If you break the agreement, these guys will hunt you down one by one and turn you into a pulp. If he wins, you simply leave. How about it?"
"Yeah, the Cat will flatten you against the wall."
"Go on, beat that bastard up."
But the leader didn't rush forward. Smart bastard; he understood that I was probably not just overly confident. Well, I'll help him.
"Are you chickening out of fighting a little kid?"
His face flushed red. Glaring at me as if it could turn me into ashes, he slowly walked toward me. He has some training. He doesn't rush into the fight immediately; he tries to get a better grip on the metal bar. The runt's father is a pirate, I think. Maybe he taught the kid how to swing that thing properly, or just how to think straight. Though it won't change anything.
He approaches me and delivers a chopping blow from top to bottom. A whistle and cheering cries accompany him. But I am already standing in a different spot. The club cuts the air a few centimeters from me. A step with a turn of the body and a simple kick to the knee forces the urchin to squat. Seizing the moment, I grab his wrist and begin to twist his arm. In surprise, his fingers unclench, and the bar falls to the ground. A fist tries to hit my face, but a child's punch is so slow and weak. I could strike hard, so hard that he wouldn't get up again. Anger flares for a second, but I immediately realize I don't want to cripple him. I jump back and wait for the boy to get up.
As soon as he was on his feet, an unexpected push to the chest makes the Cat stagger and take a couple of steps to the side so as not to fall shamefully into the trash scattered everywhere. With a kick, I send the bar flying into the opposite corner of the alley. My opponent pretends everything is fine and, to the jeers of his cronies, moves forward again.
A kick to the stomach—he was probably sure he was very fast. But unfortunately for him, that is not the case. A step back, and his boot simply doesn't reach my body. Not letting him retract his leg, I grab it with both hands. A tug, and the Cat loses his balance and falls to the ground again.
It was clear from his face how strange the situation unfolding was. He, the king among ordinary boys, was losing to a child younger than him, one who had always run away before. Getting up, the boy lunged at me, arms wide, as if he meant to hug me. But his eyes clearly spoke of a desire to crush, to flatten the audacious upstart who had dared to trespass on his status.
Time to finish this. It was as if I could see the exact spot where the blow needed to land. A straight punch to the jaw, and the enemy fell as if struck by a blaster bolt. His body nearly pinned me to the floor, but thankfully he wasn't heavy enough.
The boy was tough; he got up again. Now it was my turn to close the distance. A feigned straight punch with my left hand toward his head. As expected, he ducked. It was as if I had seen exactly where his body would move. All I had to do was position my arm. He dropped like a stone and didn't get back up.
I looked at the cluster of boys; they had huddled in the far corner, watching with almost superstitious fear. Well, naturally, their magnificent leader had been beaten by a boy several years younger. A dangerous monster, a beast, not a person.
"Do you remember our agreement?"
They nodded their heads convulsively.
"Since you remember, then get out of here, fast."
They scattered as if swept away by the wind. Finally, I'll be able to properly look around the city where I live. Before, whenever I left the building, I was bound to run into a fight.
"Thanks for the help, guys."
"No problem. What do we do with him?" One of the boys lightly kicked my opponent.
"We take him with us, dump him somewhere along the way. Can you carry him?"
"Easily."
It was clear that, after everything that had happened, I had significantly grown in their estimation.
Ugh, I want to wash and eat. I wonder what COO-2180 is serving today? That cranky and rude mechanism makes amazing meat. I hope I get there in time and the hungry adults haven't picked it clean before I arrive.