"Clone designation OB-1, you are to arrive at testing chamber 3-B at 07:00."

The order came out from a loudspeaker mounted in the ceiling of the small room. A young boy sat in his bed with his back rigid. Looking at the clock, he noted the time was 06:45. He would have to leave now if he didn't want to be late. He looked over to his roommate, an Ithorian designated AR-4. They silently exchanged their farewells, both knowing what was to come. OB-1 attempted a smile, but his lips wouldn't stop trembling as he slid off of his bed and stood on the cold, sterile white floor. He slipped into a pale gray jumpsuit and shiny black boots, trying and failing to keep his hands from shaking as they worked. This would be his first time visiting the facility's third level, but he had heard stories from the others and had seen what happened to those who came back. The older subjects, those who had been to the third level many times, had been reduced to shells of what they once had been. But there was no fighting it. OB-1 left the room quietly, fighting to keep his emotions in check.

He walked down the long, narrow corridors, which were empty except for a few maintenance droids scurrying about to do their chores. There was nobody to talk to, nobody to stop him and ask why his face had twisted itself into an image of raw panic. He came across a single engineer, who quickly became very engrossed in his datapad. OB-1 thought he could feel pity coming from the man, although it was hard to tell with his own emotions roiling about inside him like a storm on Kamino.

The turbolift came into sight as he rounded a corner, and its door slid open as he approached. He stepped inside the cylindrical compartment and was greeted by a female voice, selected by the program's scientists for its soothing effect. It wasn't working very well at the moment.

"Greetings, clone OB-1. Current data indicates that your presence has been requested on the third level of the facility. Is this correct?"

"Yes." His reply came out louder than he had expected.

"Records indicate that this will be your first visit to the Advanced Testing Area. Please select a confection, courtesy of your testers." A small tray popped out from a slit in the wall, bearing a number of sugary treats. "For your taste palette, the Corellian truffle is advised."

He took the indicated candy and unwrapped it with his slender fingers. The tray slid back into the wall as he took a bite from the creamy truffle in his hand. The turbolift shuddered slightly as it began its descent into the belly of the facility. In the time it took for OB-1 to finish his truffle, the lift came to a halt and its doors slid open once more, revealing another austerely white hallway. He walked down the hall, quickly finding the correct room. The door opened automatically, and he was ushered inside by a woman wearing a white coat and holding a small holoprojector in her hand.

He was seated in a small chair, and electrodes were placed in a ring around his hairless head. The woman bent her knees, bringing her face down to his level.

"Now, this is going to be a simple test. What I'm going to do is go back there," she waved toward a wall of one-way transparisteel, "and look at an image coming from this holoprojector. All that you have to do is tell me what it is I'm seeing."

OB-1 nodded quietly, knowing he couldn't refuse. Before the woman stood up, she placed his wrists and ankles inside manacles protruding from the chair's arms and legs and snapped them shut. She then walked quickly behind the transparisteel barrier and spoke quietly into an audio-diary.

"Subject OB-1 is being tested in chamber 3-B for signs of telepathic ability. Subject age is five years, three months, one week and one day. Subject has shown no resistance as of yet, and appears to be stable. Test begins running at...07:02. Starting...now."

There was a faint series of beeps as the holoprojector powered on, and OB-1 felt a panicked chill run down his spine. There was something in the way she spoke—there was something she hadn't told him about this test.

"Image one is being viewed. OB-1, what do you see?"

His fear crystallized, and he looked wildly about the room, hoping to see some sort of clue. All he saw was the oppressive, medical white which coated the entire facility. No marks, no stains. Certainly nothing that would tell him what the woman wanted to hear. Fearing that she might grow impatient, he guessed blindly.

"A chair?"

"Wrong." There was a brief stinging sensation in the center of his forehead. "Try again."

"A cup?"

"Wrong." This time, it felt like he had walked into a wall. He tried to rub at the pain, but his wrist was shackled to the chair. "Try again."

"A door?"

"Wrong." An invisible hydrospanner smashed into his face, and he cried out in pain. His eyes became blurry with tears. "Try again."

"But I don't know! I don't know what it is!"

"Arguing won't help you." It felt like somebody had pointed a blowtorch at his head. He let out a deafening scream, leaving his throat sore when the pain faded. He was sweating now, and he could hear his heart pounding.

"Please, stop it..." He moaned, unable to put any strength into his words. He felt something reaching around his eyes, squeezing. He let out an animal scream, begging the pain to stop. He struggled against his bonds, his vision slowly fading away as the pressure continued to grow. His eyes went dark, and his entire being was reduced to the fire burning inside his skull. There was a single image left in his mind, which he was barely able to name.

"L...Li...Light...Light! Stop! It's a light! IT'S A LIGHT!"

The pain disappeared, leaving only a throbbing memory of what he had been feeling moments ago. He opened his eyes, and found that he could see again. His jumpsuit clung to his sweaty skin, and his breathing was ragged.

"Good. Image two is being viewed. What do you see?"

He closed his eyes, struggling to calm himself. He forced his breathing to slow down, and concentrated. He thought back to what had happened before, trying to remember what it was he had done. When he found it, he spoke with certainty.

"A blaster."

"Good. Image three is being viewed. What do you see?"

"A nerf."

"Good. Image fo—"

"A wookie."

"Very good."

There was another series of beeps coming from behind the transparisteel, and the woman walked back into his sight while speaking into her audio-diary.

"Subject appears to have telepathic ability. Mild stimulation was sufficient. Experiment ends at...07:10. Make a note to add subject to the advanced testing track. Entry end."

She placed the device into her coat pocket and bent down to unlock the manacles pinning OB-1 to the chair. Once he was free, he reached up and tore the electrodes from his head, hearing a staccato of popping noises as they came free.

"Congratulations on completing your first test. I hope to see you again soon, OB-1."

He glared at her in response, having learned by now that words meant nothing to the scientists here. He turned around and stormed out of the room, not waiting to be granted leave. He stood in sullen silence while the turbolift brought him back up to the residential level of the facility, then ran to his room as fast as his feet could carry him. He flung himself on his bed and cried. AR-4 watched in sympathy, but also in fear. His turn was in two weeks.