Three days after the ceremony, I woke to the tone of a ssage arriving at my personal caller, and that ant Master had prepared everything, and it was ti to get my new hand.
Half of the stump was already prepared for it, the flesh and skin cleaned, and the future connections for the machinery linked with my nerves, but it didn't an I was no longer assailed by phantom pains or feeling my fingers being there. Master Rosh Penin said that it's normal, and he also feels it sotis, but he also told that after I get my prosthetics, it will help sync it up with my mind. That it should all go away. Not that it was a big issue or sothing I couldn't deal with.
Arriving, the forge we had was situated beneath the east side of the temple, carved into volcanic stone during the Alliance days, I think. I heard that the whole thing was destroyed in the Vong Wars, and that for a ti everything was moved to Ossus... But after the dust had settled, the Grandmaster brought everything back and rebuilt from the ashes. Well, for one, I couldn't tell if this was rebuilt or the original, heh. Well, they do say that the Force causes deep imprints in places, and I know that the Grandmaster has a connection to this place, as the first Death Star was also destroyed above the skies of this moon.
While I was thinking about it, the door before slid open, and the air hit like the heat from Tatooine, clashing against the jungle's humidity coming from behind . I was taken off guard, reaching out to the Force to quickly get a grasp on it. Inside, Master stood over a low-placed crucible, his sleeves rolled up, while sparks were flickering across his hands as he guided a molten alloy with the Force, letting it take shape. He wasn't alone; beside him, Master Aren Solara was helping out, as she was the owner and the head of this forge. She deftly adjusted settings on a gravitic armature. I watched as tal spheres hovered around him like a model solar system, displaying data, swapping, and bringing over tools, handling multiple tasks at once.
"Right on ti," Ben said, not looking up at . "Do you rember the helt you brought back from Mandalore?"
"How could I forget?" I shrugged, "I brought it back exactly for this."
"Well, it was a pain to lt it down." Master Solara said, and although he sounded annoyed, I could feel he liked the challenge it provided, "They mixed the cortosis with compatible alloys to form the helt, so separating it was... enlightening. I must say, Mandalorian craftsmanship has no rivals in the Galaxy." He nodded toward the crucible, making step closer and take a look. The alloy inside shimred between silver and iron-black now, while there were threads of crimson swirling in it. "So we are essentially copying it, and honestly, without the Force, I would be stumped."
"You don't give yourself enough credit, Master Solara." Ben smiled as the molten shape began to change, taking up the form of my future hand. "The Force helps, but we are still responsible for our actions, good and bad alike." He turned to then, his eyes wandering down to my arm. "You ready?"
"As much as I'll ever be." I smiled at them.
First, they began with the calibration of the connections already in my hand. Master Solara attached the final, fixed neural patches along my forearm and upper arm, each one aligned with my limb's remaining nerves.
"No anesthetic," Ben warned , "Sorry, but you'll need to feel the signals link. It's the only way to teach the nerves which impulses are real, and we need you to keep telling us if sothing feels off."
"Of course," I said, trying to sound brave, but it was already hurting like hell. Heh... "What could possibly go wrong with that?" I joked, shaking my head. If I had survived until now, this would have been nothing.
The cortosis frawork floated up from the crucible as we spoke, the tal fingers appearing as if my hand was reaching out from the glowing liquid, directly towards . When it cooled, and they affixed it to my stump, I could feel the connection linking up. I braced for pain that didn't co... Huh. So much for anesthetic and whatnot... The only thing I felt was a bit of pressure, and... Ow. Yeah. I spoke too soon! There it was, nice, sharp, stinging pain as it got hooked into my nerves. Damn it. Whoa, I don't want to do that a second ti!
"Good?" Ben asked, making nod with a half-smile.
"I can feel it, alright."
Light gathered around the joint as the connection ca online, and Master Solara guided the micro-servos into position before so heat radiated up my arm, bright but less painful than before.
"Relax," Ben said quietly. "Don't fight it."
I exhaled while nodding, trying out my new hand. My new fingers moved as I wished them to.
"Functionality at ninety-nine percent." Master Solara humd, "I'd call that better than most organic models."
"We will see," Ben smiled slightly. "Give it a try."
Excited, I raised my arm, rotating my wrist, and the joints responded faster than I expected, the dark tal catching the light, glinting in red a little. It was as if I got my hand back. The only difference was that sensing texture, heat, and to feel how soft or hard it was when I grabbed it was... muted. Very muted. I will have to be careful not to squash things while holding them.
"Feedback? Is it normal?" Ben asked, watching try it out.
"Normal's not the word," I muttered, smiling. "It's… good, though."
"We will need to see how good it is," Master Solara said, handing a small durasteel rod. "Test out your grip."
I took it and crushed it flat before I could stop myself. Oh, this may be a problem.
"Hm," Ben coughed into his fist, "Well, it is good. We'll work on moderation later."
"I think..." I muttered, letting the crushed rod go, "I will need to work on it earlier rather than later."
...
....
......
"How does it feel?" Vila asked, seeing my new hand, grabbing it, and trying to twist, turn, and asure it all at once.
"It's fine, even a bit overpowered," I said. "But please, be careful, because I don't think I have a warranty on it."
"Nah, this looks sturdy. Let's go and test it out!"
Of course... What else did I expect? Well, I was curious, too, so I followed her without question, entering the training fields. Around us, newly arrived younglings sparred in pairs. Their training blades clashed against each other, bringing back to how it was for us, right until we stood in one of the empty arenas, facing each other. Moving my hand to my hilt, the grip felt a bit different... It was heavier on one side, and the balance was wrong, and I had to relearn sothing that was already a reflex because of my new fingers.
"You sure about this?" I asked.
"Absolutely. You need to learn to trust that thing, anyway. If you hesitate in the field, you'll lose more than a hand, and I am not going to let that happen."
With that, she ignited her sabers, taking up her form's basic stance. In answer, I thumbed my own emitter, letting the indigo blade burst from the hilt, reflecting off the dark tal of my prosthetic arm. She was right... I needed to train because I could already tell that I was off, and I needed to adjust my technique.
"Ready?" she called.
"As I'll ever—"
She was already on ... Cheater! Vila's opening leap was done in a high arc, with twin strikes from opposite angles, but it was slow enough to give ample ti to react. I parried the first from my right, barely caught the second with the new arm holding my saber, redirecting it, but I couldn't step into a counter as the impact jarred up my shoulder... It was stronger than expected, most likely because the cortosis plating resonated, transmitting the power behind her strikes differently than flesh and bones would.
"Not bad!" she said, flipping backward.
"No, it is bad." I exhaled, resetting my footing. "You're also holding back..."
"Obviously! I like you alive..."
"Don't hold back." I straightened myself, rolling my shoulders, "I can take it."
"If you say so," she muttered, readjusting herself, and after a nod, we restarted our duel.
She ca at again, aiming low this ti, blades scissoring against my legs. I tried a Makashi riposte, pivoting on my right leg, turning the cortosis hand inward for a counter-thrust. The form looked beautiful in theory, but in practice, the saber nearly slipped free from my grip, my unfamiliar fingers adjusting the force behind it way too late. Vila laughed even as she ducked under the swing, coming out from under it without any difficulty.
"The left feels awkward?" she teased.
"Like dancing on ice." I moaned, grimacing, getting angry with myself.
"Then stop thinking about which foot's forward!"
Of course, she didn't stop. Her sabers crossed mine in a flash of light just then, as I t her rhythm. It almost worked until she fainted, and I overcorrected, again... Then, without thinking about it, I let go of my curved hilt, letting it fall into my other hand while I reached out with my new fingers, blocking her second blade. The mont the two t, sparks scattered everywhere, and her saber turned off in her hand, almost making her fall on her face.
"..." She just stared at and then at her deactivated lightsaber. "Did you just—"
"Oops," I said
"Oops? OOOPS?! You shorted my lightsaber! If you broke it, you owe a replacent crystal! And... EVERYTHING!"
"Don't worry, it shouldn't have any issues, it's just... turned off." I tried watching her shake her lightsaber, and then, after a nervous try, luckily, it turned back on.
"Try not to touch with that thing again during a duel. I'll ban it. Period!"
"Sorry..." I muttered, "It was... a reflex..."
"Whatever..." She pouted, taking a deep breath, "Again. You still need to learn to fight with that hand, and not around it. Just... Don't touch my sabers!"
With that, we went again. I switched footing in this round, leading with my left this ti. Simply put, I had to feel my human fingers around my hilt more than my chanical. I needed that... connection. So, the first dozen exchanges were sloppy, uneven, as I switched my dominant hand... My muscles always wanted to default to the right, with every swing, and each ti she pressed , I overextended or pivoted too slowly. Of course, she shouted corrections between strikes:
"Lower elbow! Kael, don't twist your wrist!"
Even though she didn't practice my form, she had the experience against it. Eventually, after multiple weeks of constant training, sothing clicked for . For the first ti, since the start of our daily duels, both my arms moved in concert and I felt balance between them... Took long enough. Seeing that I was indeed back to normal, beginning to not only react but also push her, Vila flipped overhead, trying to strike from behind. I pivoted easily, my left arm catching her double-downswing, holding my hilt, redirecting them as my right hand was shooting out, tapping her forehead.
"..." She froze at once, breathing fast, beginning to pout. "Show-off."
"I'm just good," I said, grinning.
"Heh!" She deactivated her sabers, smiling in spite of herself. "You're getting there... but good? Not yet. You just caught off guard by reaching out with your cortosis hand. You never did that before."
"I think I am being inspired," I muttered, because it was the truth, "Give a few months to co up with sothing."
"Fine, but if you ever use that cortosis trick on again, I swear I'll take it off while you sleep and hide your arm in the droid bay."
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