Yunling

Chapter 1.

I realized myself six months after I was born. It was an unpleasant time, I remember. To begin with, I've never liked milk. Especially steamy, straight from, so to speak, the ... body. Warm..., br-r-R. Add to this the problems with vision, hearing, misunderstanding of the environment, the unusual size of others and the lack of any communication skills. Oh yes, I couldn't even go to the toilet properly. Taking a shit for yourself is... Mmm-fuck it, I shouldn't have remembered. On top of everything else, I also felt the emotions of my parents. At least it's just them. And considering that I hadn't noticed anything like this in my previous life and couldn't recognize anything, you can imagine the extent of my comfort. I couldn't even lie down and study the ceiling properly. It was only at night that he calmed down. Fortunately, over the years, this ability... dulled. What else can I say? Until about two or two and a half years old, my new body had only two emotions -laughter and crying. I've been talking to rodaks for a while.

But everything bad, as well as good, ends sooner or later. It's just that we don't always notice this transition. People, what can we take from us, like cockroaches, we adapt to everything. In short, my baby days are over. I won't say that everything has become awesome, but what is simpler is a fact. As soon as my body was strong enough, I started learning how to walk. Both laughter and sin. But in general, it's like riding a bike. Only longer.

"Come on, baby," my father said, holding my hands, "one leg, two legs."

Fuck you, big guy! What the fuck kind of legs? These are the kultyapki. Ku-l-tyap-ki!

"Come to me, my dear. Come to Mommy."

Wouldn't you rather come to me? Oh, damn, if it weren't for your emotions, I would have sent you far and for a long time. I had to train at night. In addition to not helping, these parental suckers were also very annoying.

Before I could see properly, I thought I was either in the past or in some other world of the Middle Ages — my parents wore too archaic clothes. Tunics, cloaks, and some kind of nondescript dresses. Our house didn't look like a modern one either-it was more like a hobbit hole of some kind. In my defense, I can say that it wasn't that often that I was taken outside the nursery. So it wasn't until I first came to our kitchen that I realized I was wrong. Where I heard the plumbing. The faucet was missing, bitch, and all I saw was the sink. But I heard the sound of running water, then no water. And then Dad bought some kind of washing machine for the kitchen. Actually, that's not all he did, but the first and only thing I saw at first was washing dishes.

I noticed more and more every day and month. There is an auto-cleaning wardrobe in the hallway. Not a washing machine, of course, but it will bring down the dust. The same washing machine built into the bathroom wall. Holes in the ceiling all over the house, it turns out, climate control. And what was going on in the garage.... A workbench with a bunch of incomprehensible tools, several robots of various configurations, and a car hanging in the fucking air. And the first time I got my hands on it was when I opened a strange closet in my parents' bedroom, which turned out to contain a weapon. Futuristic-looking, but undoubtedly a firearm. By the way, my father spent half a day tinkering with the gunsmith's case, and he couldn't figure out how I had opened it. He kept asking me how I did it. What about me? Not to mention the fact that I, a child who was not even three years old, lacked vocabulary, I also did not understand anything myself. He came up, tugged, tugged again, tugged frantically. Bang! And the closet opened.

And a couple of months later, a few days before my birthday, I found out where I was. At that time, our family was celebrating some kind of holiday, where ten people were invited, of whom I knew only two — my father's friend and his wife. Although I was overreacting about ten people. Three of them had nothing to do with the human race. So, the drum roll! They were a couple of Twi'leks, probably a family, and one Zabrak. And if I could have made a mistake with the last one, then who on Earth doesn't know Twi'leks? And having seen them together, I can say with confidence that I got into a very specific galaxy. Far, far away. After all this, the very recognizable word "Jedi" that came up in conversation didn't surprise me much. Tellingly, the entire group frowned at the mention of the Jedi.

I didn't realize what kind of ass I was in until the evening, when my parents put me to bed and I was able to collect my thoughts.

First of all, the Star Wars universe is filled to the brim with wars. And I'm not talking about some small-town wars, which simply cannot be counted, but about global, galactic wars. And it's terribly easy to get into the millstones of one of them. One war with the Yuuzhan Vong is worth it. Although it seems to be one of the bloodiest, I don't even know what time I'm in!

I really got it. My second problem is that I'm not a fan of "galaxy far, far away." I've always liked this universe, but not enough to understand it thoroughly. Imagine that you are reading a book from the Star Wars series, well, or a fanfiction. Your eyes have caught on the name of a race. But the book is not a movie, and you want to know what this race looks like. You go online, find some specialized website, and find out what you need. Sometimes follow the link and find out something else. Then another one. And then you drop it and go back to the book. So, I'm not a fan. I haven't read too many of those books. Not enough, to put it bluntly. However, there are also computer games.... But you must admit, you will not become a connoisseur of the universe in this way. True, I've always liked this topic, so I know a little more than the average person, but lying in bed now, being in a three-year-old body, feeling my new parents having fun in the company of three inhumans, I'm very clearly aware of how little this "little more" is.

At least I've always had an excellent memory. It's a pity that it's not perfect. I hope I got into a relatively peaceful time, otherwise I'm completely stitched up. Unfortunately, I even have problems with dates. For the only chronology that I know is "ABY" and "BBY", that is, after the Battle of Yavin and, accordingly, before. What if I got there before that battle? Then they have a completely different chronology here, and that's a freaking thirty-five to forty thousand years.

I'm also worried about my newfound empathy. Personally, I haven't decided yet whether I want to be a force user or not. On the one hand, it's cool, on the other, it's a pain in the ass. And that empathy is quite strange. Besides the fact that her power is fading every year, I also feel only my parents. It's unclear, however. Maybe I'm not a Jedi. That is, not a forcer. The Jedi are an order.

Oh, yes, it's also worth considering that this is still reality, and what I know may not match the "canon." Both in general and in small things.

Oh, Lech, Lech.... Well, you should have buckled up in that car, maybe you wouldn't have gotten into this mess.

A couple of months after I realized where I was, my father took me to the nearest mmm... a locality. Moreover, he took me on a two-seater speeder bike, a kind of analogue of the thing that Imperial stormtrooper scouts liked to ride. The name of the technique, by the way, is cool, have you noticed? For me, such things generally sound strange, I know that there is no Land with its English in the foreseeable future. And yet, here he is. However, I've come across words familiar from my past life quite often. And not only English, by the way. So I've given up on such coincidences for a long time.

My mother didn't want to let me go with my father. Not on a speeder bike. Even when he strapped me to my stomach, so even if I wanted to, I couldn't fall off, even then I resisted. Mothers... What else can I say.

Overall, I was on her side. It's not that I didn't want to go to the city, but the motorcycle I associated with that clunker didn't inspire confidence in me. I especially didn't trust the fact that I wasn't driving. Driver's syndrome, as they say. In my world, I was a racing driver. Shitty, yes, but nevertheless. And I started doing this because of my love of speed, which, although not passionate, was somehow present. And even the car accident that took my life into this universe didn't take away that love. Most likely... I don't know. But the rejection of another person behind the wheel of the car I'm driving has blossomed. I can tell you that now with all responsibility.

Oh well. My father argued with my mother, but no one asked me. My dad turned out to be a great biker and drove us to the city in about forty minutes. At an average speed of about two hundred kilometers per hour. Although I won't say anything here. For me personally, as expected, the trip was not pleasant, and all the time I spent on the road, I hoped that the city would be over that hill. Therefore, I would not be surprised if we reached our destination a little faster. Looking ahead a little, I would like to note that I was not much mistaken. Dad drove from us to the city in an average of thirty minutes.

The city itself... well... a locality, as I said at the beginning. There are only two houses above the ground floor, and there are not more than two hundred houses themselves.

That first time, my father came there to meet with an acquaintance and arrange for the supply of spare parts for the droids, which he repaired. He has a workshop in the backyard for this purpose. He made arrangements in a cantina, a half-bar, half-dining room. When I went there, I thought that, as in the cantinas of the canon, I would see a whole bunch of different races. It turned out to be in vain. Twi'leks and Zabraks, that's all I saw. Well, I didn't really want to. By the way, I can responsibly state that Twi'lek women are simply wonderful. I have rarely seen so much femininity and grace in my world. But their men, in my inexperienced opinion, were quite ugly on the face. And what do the poor things see in them? Although here, like any man, even in this body, I am still biased. But I can't say anything about the rejections. Here, as with people, there are beauties, there are freaks.

Overall, it turned out to be a pretty informative outing.

After that trip, my father started taking me to the workshop with him, telling me what was what. I didn't feel like studying, but that's exactly what it was all about. I wonder if there are institutes here? Well, or an academy other than the Jedi academy?

As a child, I grew up uncommunicative, at least that's what people around me said. And how can you, like, grow up sociable, huh? Of course, I didn't die an old man, but how do you want to behave in the body of a three-and-a-half-year-old child, but with the mind of a twenty-four-year-old guy? Fuck you again! Do I have to talk to my dad for the life of me? Or with your peers about the theory of the Dark Lords? Yes, and I saw those peers.... Actually, I've only seen it three times.

Traders come to our planet with an incomprehensible frequency, but my parents, and not only them, always know when this event will happen. And exactly one day before that, the whole crowd gathers and goes to hell, leaving us kids to one of the mothers. Moreover, women who have a child under the age of three do not participate in this lottery.

The first time I was in our hop group of teenagers, I was hanging out with some human woman I didn't know until that time. And she had nineteen of us underage terrorists, ranging in age from three to eight years old. I felt sorry for her, honestly, but there was nothing I could do to help. Except to sit quietly in a corner and not shine. I don't like children.

This is the second time I've been with a Twi'lek woman. And once again, I was convinced that the stories about the flexibility and coordination of their women's movements were not exaggerated. In front of my eyes, she managed to bend over and keep another one standing around the corner from falling. With her foot. No, I understand everything, no miracles, everything is within the limits of what, say, a trained gymnast can do. But fuck! She's just an ordinary housewife!

Well, this is the third time this kindergarten has come to us. When I found out about it... I felt so sorry for my mom... in short, I decided to look after my peers at least. And do you know what I realized? Little kids, they're like animals, they don't even have to fight. It is enough to stand in a spectacular pose, different in different situations, and put pressure on them with your eyes. In very rare cases, growling. And when the sister of one of the little ones, whom I had put in a corner, decided to defend the honor of the family, I "crushed" her too. An eight-year-old Twi'lek girl. And it turned out to be no easier than with her brother. Yeah. By the end of that meeting, I almost felt like a king. All the boys under the age of five and the girls under the age of eight, that is, all of them, obeyed me. The others tried not to get involved. And, if anything, they fulfilled my requests. And that day was, perhaps, the most "sociable" in my practice of communicating with peers.

Actually, what was I talking about anyway? I was almost sent to my uncle, my father's brother, who lives in the city and has four children. At first, they wanted to send me there for half a year. I started crying. Well, what else could I do? At my current age, I would not have been perceived any other way. Anyway, I started crying. And he amazed his parents so much that they immediately dropped the deadline to a month. It's almost the first time in my life that I've started crying. Being very young doesn't count, although even then, according to his parents, he wasn't a big fan of crying. After such a concrete surrender, I slowed down a little and just sobbed. But then suddenly my mother came over to my side, and all my father could get was two days a week. Which only lasted a month.

First, I began to portray universal sorrow at departure and the same universal joy at return. And secondly, I was reducing my communication with my parents every week. It turned out that their idea only made things worse. And they gave up. It's so easy to turn parents around, and I'm more than sure that all children do the same. It's not as thoughtful as I am, but it's somewhere around. And that's another reason why I don't like little gnawers.

By the way, the planet itself, on which I was born for the second time, is also interesting. However, not at first glance. A traveler who arrives here will see an ordinary agricultural planet, whose main income is food. Of both plant and animal origin. Everything is managed by the Council, which consists of thirty-eight of the richest and most influential inhabitants of the planet. Among them, by the way, is my father. Dad, as I eventually found out, is one of four, JUST four, technicians on the planet. Moreover, his first brother, the one who lives in the nearest city, is the second technician. And his youngest brother is engaged in the cultivation of cereals and rickrits, vicious-looking animals that are bred for their meat. However, I did not understand how the brothers were dealing with profit sharing. Either the father is in charge of ONE enterprise, or each of them has a share in the brother's enterprise. But if that's the case, then Daddy has a lot to share, because he doesn't hesitate to give orders to his younger brothers.