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"Can I ask you something?" I said, as I adjusted one of his IV lines.

Norn raised an eyebrow. "You're the doctor. You can ask me anything."

I smiled at that. "Fair enough. I was wondering what it was like? Growing up on Krixon, I mean."

He was quiet for a long moment, and I worried I'd overstepped. But then he spoke, his voice low and measured.

"Krixon is harsh," he said. "Beautiful, in its way, but unforgiving. We learn from a young age that strength is everything. Weakness is not tolerated."

I nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Training begins early," he went on. "By the time we're old enough to walk, we're learning to fight. It's intense. Many don't make it through."

My heart ached at the thought of children being put through such rigorous training. "That sounds incredibly difficult," I said softly.

Norn's gaze met mine, a flicker of surprise in his eye. "It made us strong," he said, but there was a note of uncertainty in his voice that hadn't been there before.

"Strength comes in many forms," I said gently. "The kind of strength it takes to endure what you're going through now, for example. To adapt and heal is no small feat."

He was quiet for a moment, considering my words. "I've never thought of it that way," he admitted.

As we continued talking, Norn opened up more about his life on Krixon, his training, and the battles he'd fought. With each story, each small revelation, I felt myself drawn deeper into his world. There was a vulnerability beneath his warrior's exterior that tugged at my heart.

Hours passed as we talked, and I shared stories of my childhood on the medical colony, my decision to specialize in cyborg physiology, the challenges and triumphs I'd experienced in my career.

As the station's night cycle began, casting the room in a soft, dim light, I realized with a start how much time had passed. "I should let you rest," I said, standing up from the chair I'd pulled up beside his bed.

Norn's hand shot out, grasping my wrist gently. "Wait," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I thank you. For listening. For caring."

A lump formed in my throat, touched by his words. "Of course," I said softly. "That's what I'm here for."

As I turned to leave, I caught my reflection in the window. There was a softness in my expression, a warmth in my eyes that I hadn't seen in a long time. With a start, I realized that in trying to understand Norn's complex physiology, I'd understood something far more intricate with his heart.

The next few days were a whirlwind of activity as I threw myself into the challenge of Norn's treatment. I spent countless hours poring over his cybernetic schematics, consulting with specialists across the galaxy, and running simulation after simulation.

One afternoon, as I was deep in concentration, staring at a holographic model of Norn's neural interfaces, I felt a presence behind me. I turned to find Norn standing there, leaning heavily on a support frame, but standing.

"You're up!" I exclaimed, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice. "How do you feel?"

Norn's lips twitched in what might have been a smile. "Unsteady," he admitted. "But it's good to be vertical again."

I moved to his side, my hands hovering near him, ready to offer support if needed. "This is excellent progress," I said, unable to keep the pride out of my voice. "But don't push yourself too hard. Small steps, remember?"

He nodded, his organic eye fixed on the holographic display. "What are you working on?"

I followed his gaze, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. "I think I might have a solution for your arm," I said. "But it's experimental."

Norn's eyebrow raised. "Experimental how?"

I took a deep breath, launching into an explanation. "Your cybernetic systems are far more advanced than anything we have here. Standard prosthetics just won't cut it. So, I've been working on designing something custom, something that can fully integrate with your existing enhancements."

I manipulated the holographic display, showing him the design I'd been working on. "It would use a combination of synthetic materials and bio-engineered tissue, with a neural interface that mimics your Krixon cybernetics. In theory, itshould function almost identically to your original arm."

Norn studied the display intently, his expression unreadable. "In theory," he repeated.

I nodded, feeling a flutter of nervousness in my stomach. "It's never been done before, not quite like this. There are risks involved."

He turned to me, his gaze intense. "What kind of risks?"