A Shadow's Odyssey (Closed/Training)

[Tryjo]

OOC: The purpose for this section of this thread is for training Tryjo in the Force power Sense Force Disturbance. It should be noted that these are past events.

It took a moment for Tryjo to fully realize what had happened; Ken’s alignment with the Dark side of the Force. Initially, Tryjo just assumed that it was his shared Zabrak heritage with Ken that transformed itself into the intense feelings that overcame him, but he quickly realized that it was much more than a shared bloodline that was pressing down upon his acute senses.

The Force was churning with vigor all about Tryjo; the mystic energy waves seeming to be propelled by an invisible windstorm. The delicate strains of the Force that connect all aspects of the galaxy, much like the spider’s web, seemed to be reverberating with an imbalance likened to a trapped insect struggling to free itself from infinite doom. The sensation was overbearing and Tryjo could almost physically feel the disturbance that the Force was experiencing. Allowing his mind to reach out and touch the chaos that was swirling about him, Tryjo tried to glean an understanding from what he was feeling via the Force. But, as quickly as the sensations came upon him, they vanished; the Force quelling the turbulent energies. Perhaps the sudden shift in alignment of his brother Zabrak had caused the disturbance in the natural flowing of the surrounding Force energies, temporarily creating an imbalance that Tryjo could sense.

Nonetheless, Tryjo could readily see that more of his Shadow brethren seemed to be shifting away from a balanced existence and succumbing to a darkness that would prove to be the end of his Order. Staying true to the underlying beliefs of the Shadow Order, Tryjo began to realize that he would have to shift his alignment in a way to counteract the coming darkness. For to have balance within the Force, there would have to be a balance between the powers of darkness and light. If Ken was truly falling to the Dark side of the Force, Tryjo would have to do the opposite.

Getting back to his feet, Tryjo brushed off his drab brownish trousers and began to look for a suitable place to begin his decent toward the sentient off in the distance; Ken. Reaching out and touching the Force, Tryjo could sense Ken’s life force and his own unique Force signature. Tryjo did not know if his brother would welcome him considering the circumstances, but he had to try and reach Ken – if only to reconnect. Reaching out with his mind, Tryjo sent a brief message through the Force to prepare Ken for the impending visit. ”I’m coming.”

[Tryjo]

OOC: The purpose of this thread is to serve as the construction application for Tryjo's lightsaber. It is a single-bladed weapon that has a curved hilt. It should be noted that these are past events.

IC: Tryjo glared down at the scale model lightsaber that was perched upon the workbench before him. He had built the replica some weeks before in preparation of constructing his own working model when he was fully prepared; both mentally in the Force and physically in having all the necessary components for the final assembly process. Having been in a meditative trance most of the day, Tryjo had spent many hours balancing his mind for the process of construction. Tryjo deemed combat a brutal act and the tool he was about to create exemplified this very brutality, but it was a necessary evil that Tryjo must face. For the tool itself was a physical representation of Tryjo's journey through the learning process of Force users, and if called upon, it could be used to defend him from opposing forces within the universe. Thus, Tryjo had purposefully cleared his mind of any and all negativity toward the lightsaber, as he did not wish to bind any negative energy into the completed weapon.

The Shadow Temple housed a special light weapon construction room for all prospective students of the Force to build their lightsabers. The room housed all the necessary equipment for construction, from smelting machines to refine the purest metals in the galaxy, to hydrospanners to securely drill and tighten each metal component of the weapon together. As Tryjo looked over the machines and equipment present in the room, he began to lay out the functional components for his weapon, inspecting them one last time for quality assurance. Each piece had a distinct purpose and Tryjo knew that the slightest imperfection could cause the entire unit to fail. Thus, he was diligent in inspecting every part, from the blade shroud emitter to the belt ring; every part perfect and in sync with every other part and the Force itself. Not only using his physical senses to judge the quality of his components, Tryjo reached out with the Force to sense any physical imperfections that they might contain. Of course, physical imperfections were only half of his search for ineffective resources, as he delved deep within the Force to sense any irregularities within the Force signatures of each individual piece. This process took some time, as Tryjo fervently examined each component, but as he laid the finial piece upon the workbench, he gave a sigh of relief that each piece did not show any physical or mystical faults.

Having successfully examined the interior components of his functional lightsaber, Tryjo stood from the workbench and made his way across the room to a metallurgy machine he would use to create the metal alloy that would make up the exterior shell of his weapon. Tryjo had chosen four metals for use in the hilt of his weapon, phrik, doonium, transparisteel, and ultrachrome. The phrik and doonium would be blended together to form the actual hilt and the transparisteel would be used to form a distinctive blade shroud emitter at the top of the hilt. The phrik/doonium alloy would give the hilt a distinctive grey color, which Tryjo would overlay with ultrachrome for its protection against blaster fire and other light weapons. The transparisteel would be molded into a circular blade shroud emitter, and as it was inherently transparent, when the beam was activated, it would be able to reflect and glow from the emitted light beam. Tryjo placed the unformed metal phrik and doonium into a well worn melting pot to begin the mixing process. Due to the advanced heating process, it would not take long before the metals had taken on a molten consistency and began to merge. Having placed his hilt mold into the hopper of the machine, Tryjo activated the pot to begin the pouring process. The red hot gooey metal began to flow from the pot and into the mold, and when the metallurgy machine registered that the mold was at maximum capacity, it deactivated itself and purged the excess metal from the pot. Tryjo removed the mold from the hopper and took it to the cooling station were he would begin the process of dunking the metal into water. This would cool the metal to a point to where he would be able to remove it from the mold and begin to forge it into the hilt he wanted. A sizzle of steam poured out of the water table as the mold was immersed into the water, and after several repeated dunks, a sensor indicated the metal was at a suitable temperature for forging. Cracking open the mold, Tryjo was faced with two halves of a hilt. Downing protective gloves, Tryjo removed each half of the hilt form the mold to prepare them for final assembly. Each part was exactly eight inches long and curved; due in part to Tryjo's chosen Form II combat style. Picking up the hydrospanner, Tryjo began to mill the interior of each hilt half, scoring and drilling into the metal in preparation for fitting the electrical components and crystals. With a steady hand, Tryjo continued to forge the interior of the hilt pieces until he was completely satisfied that each part was exactly as it needed to be.

Turning quickly back to the melting pot, Tryjo introduced the transparisteel to the heating process. Just as with the phrik and doonium, the transparisteel quickly melted and flowed from the pot into the distinctive blade shroud emitter mold that Tryjo had placed into the metallurgy machine hopper. Removing the mold from the hopper, Tryjo took it to the dunking table and began to cool the metal in preparation for forging the circular shroud. The same sizzle of steam arose from the water as the emitter mold was dunked into it, and after several repeats, it was ready for forging. Removing the transparisteel from the mold, Tryjo quickly began to turn the metal to form the circular patter he wanted for the shroud. After several turns on the lathe, the metal was ready for attachment to the hilt, and Tryjo sat it aside for later use.

Bringing his attention back to the two halves of the lightsaber hilt, Tryjo collected them and took them to the workbench for insertion of the interior components. Starting at the base with the diatium power cell and its related components, Tryjo slowly inserted the pieces into the carefully milled section of the curved hilt. Temporarily skipping over the crystal housing section, Tryjo moved to the top of the hilt and focused on inserting the energy modulation circuits, cycling field energizers, and the other related electronic components. Taking great care to secure each connecting wire, Tryjo used his connection to the Force to solder each connection at the molecular level for an uninterrupted flow of power. It was a magnificent process, and Tryjo was working with a zest and vigor that seemed to emanate from the very Force itself. With the other components in place, Tryjo turned his attention back to the crystal housing unit of the lightsaber hilt. Being a curved hilt, the alignment of the crystals would be quite tricky, but Tryjo had determined to let the Force guide his actions during this process. Tryjo took the Ruusan crystal pieces from a small pouch sitting on the workbench. He had taken the opportunity to perfectly cut and tune each crystal prior to this occasion based upon the scale model that he had built. Taking the primary crystal and placing it in the hilt, it fit very snuggly and accurately. Of course, Tryjo had to make sure that the angled cut of the long side of the crystal was facing the correct direction to focus the flow of energy toward the focusing crystal due to the curvature of the lightsaber hilt. Moving on the the focusing crystal, Tryjo placed it in its mounting bracket and adjusted it to align with the correct angled cut facing the primary crystal. With each component in place, Tryjo gave one last look over the interior components to make sure there were no errors in his construction.

Tryjo picked up the empty half of the lightsaber hilt and secured it over the half that was filled with the interior components. Both metal pieces still being somewhat malleable, Tryjo was able to manipulate the metal to bond together through the Force; forming one continuous piece of metal. Having the one solid piece, Tryjo retrieved the transparisteel blade shroud emitter and placed it at the top of the hilt. Using the same Force technique, Tryjo bonding the transparent piece of metal to the body of the hilt; forming a continuous piece of metal. The body of the lightsaber being almost complete, Tryjo would have one last process to complete before he would attach the various activation switches and polyplast grips to the hilt. Taking the hilt back over to the metallurgy machine, Tryjo introduced the ultrachrome into the melting pot and activated the heat source. Within minuets, the shiny, silver metal was bubbling and ready to be spread over the surface of the hilt. Tryjo took hold of the hilt by the transparisteel shroud and dipped the lower half into the molten ultrachrome, totally covering the underlying alloy. Several repeated steps of this plating process soon gave the hilt an outer covering of pure ultrachrome. As the ultrachrome cooled, Tryjo polished away all the jagged areas until all that was left was a mirrored surface of shiny metal.

Having prepared the lightsaber hilt to his satisfaction, Tryjo took the piece of metal back to the workbench and installed the few remaining exterior components; A single power switch for easy activation, a charging connector, an ultrachrome d-ring belt clip for attaching the weapon to a belt, and black polyplast grips for a secure hold on the weapon. With the entire lightsaber completed, Tryjo placed it upon the workbench and admired his creation. It was something all his own, and there was sure to be none other like it in the known universe. Not necessarily based on its physical attributes, but due to the connection the weapon had to Tryjo through the Force itself. Of course, Tryjo had yet to activate the weapon and determine its functionability, so all of his work could have been for naught. Tryjo had confidence however, and he was sure that the fruits of his labor would function without difficulty.

Taking up the saber with his right hand, Tryjo slowly spun the weapon several times to get used to its distinctive size, weight, and shape. It was perfectly balanced for his grip and style of combat, leaving little chance for an error due to the physical limitations of the weapon or the user. Moving his thumb toward the activation switch, Tryjo briefly paused before unleashing the power of his creation. Centering himself within the Force, Tryjo activated the weapon and a hiss of light energy suddenly extended from the hilt, burning the molecules of air it contacted. Success! The weapon functioned as intended, and Tryjo breathed a slight sigh of relief as he swirled the blade and gave the Makashi salute. Deactivating the blade, Tryjo snapped the lightsaber to his belt and gathered up the leftover materials from the construction of his weapon and shut down the metallurgy machine. As Tryjo exited the construction chamber, he couldn't help but feel somewhat unbalanced by having the weapon attached to his side. Not due to its weight, but due to the fact that the weapon stood against Tryjo's principles. This would definitely be something that he would have to spend many hours in meditation over, reconciling the fact that the lightsaber was now a vital tool to him, just like the Force itself.

[Tryjo]

OOC: This thread contains character development based on other pre-existing threads. It also serves to train Tryjo in Force Alter level 3. It should be noted that these are past events.

IC:The Shadow Order on Daemonis – the place where Tryjo had grown to discover not only himself but also the Force, was long gone; perverted by Gantoris, the usurper, into something unrecognizable. Quinton, Tryjo’s mentor, was also gone; killed by a Sith on the planet Eriadu. These memories were often at the forefront of Tryjo’s conscious thoughts. It had been over a year since these events had unfolded, but Tryjo could recall every detail with vivid clarity. The passion he drew from those vile events had led Tryjo down a new path – a path where he would forge his own destiny outside the influence of organized factions.

*****

The Smokkelen, an Action-Keynne XII transport, positioned itself in high orbit above the planet Jankok. The Smokkelen was a highly modified, Corellian Engineering Corporation transport ship under the command of Calon Archway. Tryjo’s longtime companion, Bosch Qualin, had introduced him to Calon several years ago under the guise that they would be ferrying supplies for the man. In reality, Tryjo had ended up being a middle-man in Calon’s asset relocation program – smuggling. Tryjo didn’t really mind playing the part, it paid well and gave him some disposable income to better prepare himself for the rigors of survival in modern society.
Shortly after the fall of the Shadow Order, Tryjo approached Calon with an offer he couldn’t refuse. It was no secret that many in the Shadow organization remained loyal to Quinton even after his death. And, in turn, they would remain loyal to Tryjo as well. With this loyalty came manpower, technology, ships, supplies, and most importantly, credits. Calon had a smuggling and information distribution empire that would make a Hutt envious, and Tryjo wanted a stake in the business. With the sizable amount of resources Tryjo brought to the negotiating table, Calon had no other choice but to bring Tryjo into his organization as a full partner. However, at Tryjo’s own request, his role in the organization would remain anonyms to their mainstream business associates – relaying all his communications through Bosch.

”So, what are we doing here again?” Calon glanced up from one of the ship’s sensor array panels and eyed Tryjo. The Smokkelen possessed capital ship class sensor systems, yet it was not registering the slightest reading from the planet below. ”There is an abandoned Shadow training facility down there; secretly constructed during the reign of Quinton Rizzer. Tryjo let a slow hiss of air escape his lips before continuing. ”More importantly, Quinton’s private library, pertaining ancient tomes and artifacts from the defunct Shadow Order, is located there. The Praetor, sensing the inevitable path of destruction coming for the Order, had slowly moved his collection here. I intended to retrieve it.” A flash of fire seemed to ignite in Tryjo’s eyes as he spoke of his former Mentor, but being the business man that he was, Calon was not about to let the opportunity pass to ask about ‘other’ resources that could be claimed from the facility.

”So, we’ve wasted several days worth of work so you can get your hands on some old books and a few trinkets?” Calon had a knack for getting right to the point; the hull of the Smokkelen bore more than its fair share of scorch marks due to this. ”Of course, there are other resources contained within the facility that will be of benefit to our organization, Calon.” Tryjo smirked sardonically at how small minded Calon could be about the power of the Force. The information pertained within Quinton’s library could propel Tryjo’s own abilities far beyond his current level, and this would have a direct impact on the long term goals of their business. ”Perhaps one day you will grow to understand just how powerful and ally the Force can be, Calon. But, to pacify your hunger for tangible assets, I’m sure you will be happy with the plunder we can make off with from the facility.” Tryjo left his words hanging in the air as he turned and strode away from Calon. A small fighter had been prepped for his journey to the planet’s surface, and Tryjo was not about to waste another minute discussing how he and Calon would divvy up the spoils.

*****

As the Preybird class starfighter broke through the upper atmosphere of Jankok, Tryjo fought hard against the yolk to keep the ship’s attitude under control. Perhaps he had wrongfully chosen to push the ship too far beyond its fail-safe’s in his hurried attempt to reach the planet’s surface. Red lamps began to illuminate the cockpit as warning systems began to activate in response to various ship functions beginning to go offline. The non-Force sensitive pilot would have probably begun to panic and plan a strategy of ditching the fighter, but Tryjo’s mind was calm as he surveyed the current situation. Reaching out to touch the Force, Tryjo began to manipulate its flow in order to better attune his mind to its subtle nuances. This had once been a daunting task, but as Tryjo had grown in strength and wisdom, compelling the Force had become second nature. The result was basically instantaneous, and with his renewed mental clarity, Tryjo began to push his senses outward past the visible consoles and into the inner workings of the ship.

The damaged subsystems showed themselves to Tryjo like Glow-lichen standing out in the darkness of deep space. The engine was his primary concern, as its power systems were being disrupted by static discharge from a buildup of static electricity due to the ship encountering Jankok’s atmosphere. Pushing his control over the Force outward, Tryjo began to slowly manipulate the tiny particles of energy that were binding to the fighter’s hull. The negatively charged ions that were clinging to the ship’s hull could be easily plucked away by Tryjo’s ability to manipulate the physical world around him. However, for each batch of charged particles he swept away from the ship, a fresh batch would appear due to the friction being created by the ship traveling through the atmosphere. Deciding not to waste valuable time with an ill-fated attempt, Tryjo quickly formulated another method for dealing with the electrical problems plaguing the ship’s engines. Focusing on the internal components of the ship this time, Tryjo began to use the Force to increase the amount of power being fed to the engines. Of course, this increase of power began to degrade the delicate wiring harnesses that were connected to the various systems of the fighter. Keeping the flow of power steadily above the charge rate of the static discharges, Tryjo turned part of his concentration to the wiring itself. This was tedious work, but what seemed like hours, was in reality only mere minutes. Focusing on the individual strands of wire feeding the engines and connecting components, Tryjo began to meld them together inside each casing. Thus, the stronger flow of steady power could be achieved without worry of causing an internal fire. Of course, additional heat could not be used to fuse the individual strands of wire together, as there was a vast amount of heat being generated already by the increased flow of power. Instead, Tryjo manipulated the very makeup of each strand of metal and fused the wires together at the atomic level. Red lamps began to change to green as the ship’s engines found new vigor in being able to attain proper power levels to compensate for the static discharge.

It would continue to be a bumpy ride to the facility, but at least Tryjo would not have to worry about the ship’s engines stalling out and causing him to come to a fiery end, crashing on the surface below. The jolts and shudders of the ship were annoying, but within a few minutes, Tryjo began to be able to make out the topography of the landscape below. He had the coordinates of the training facility preprogrammed into the landing computer, and with the activation of the auto-navigation system, Tryjo would let the ship pilot itself to the landing area. Also, having exited the upper atmosphere, Tryjo was able to release his control over the ship’s power levels and rest his weary mind. However, Tryjo was reminded of the old Corellian proverb, ‘There’s no rest for the weary’, when the ship took an unusually large jolt. The turbulence experienced in the upper atmosphere had weakened the port side wing assembly to the point where it was tearing loose form the support superstructure. Fortunately, a precognitive premonition via the Force had alerted Tryjo to this impending tragedy, and he was able to reach out through the Force and get a grip on the wing, holding it in place before it tore completely free. Not wishing to try and hold the wing in place as the fighter traveled toward the landing area, Tryjo focused on pulling the wing back toward the ship. As he did so, Tryjo reached out with the Force and began to bend the torn section of the wing in upon itself. Having bent the torn section of wing into a hook like formation, Tryjo focused on bending the torn section of the support superstructure in a similar hook. Using the limitless power of the Force, the bending of the durasteel plating was a simple task, and with a clinking sound, Tryjo hooked the wing back into the support superstructure.

As the repulsorlift engines engaged, Tryjo was thankful that the flight was finally over. It would have been a pity for his mission to end even before it ever got started. Popping the canopy, Tryjo leapt from the cockpit and landed nimbly upon the duracrete landing pad just outside the confines of the Shadow training facility. It was obvious that the training center had been abandoned some months back as the wilds of nature had already begun to consume the building. Grasses and weeds had already overrun the once pristine grounds, and various types of flora had begun to creep up the stone walls that stood silent guard about the entire facility. Stretching out with the Force, Tryjo could also sense the life forces of several different types of animals perusing the facility’s interior. Tryjo found it rather ironic that his personal thoughts and feelings could not have been more perfectly matched by the scene before him.

As Tryjo slowly began to realize the scope of what had transpired over the past year by looking upon the derelict facility, his passion for claiming a new destiny began to build within him. This was spurred on even more by the familiar power of the Force he felt that still lingered in the area surrounding the Shadow training center. Part of this was due to the fact that there were many powerful instructors stationed here that left their imprint upon the Force, but also due to the artifacts Tryjo was here to collect. As Tryjo’s passion continued to rise, a small seed of hate crept its way into his conscious thoughts as well. Tryjo felt anger toward Gantoris for his betrayal of the Order; anger toward the unknown Sith assassin that took Quinton’s life; anger toward himself for allowing all of this to happen. Without even thinking about his actions, or the consequences of the same, Tryjo lashed out through the Force at the Preybird that had brought him to the planet’s surface.

There was no focus or careful preparations that lead to Tryjo’s assault upon the inanimate object before him. There were only the elements of the Dark Side: passion, hate, anger. Fueled by these emotions, Tryjo unleashed a powerful and crushing wave of Dark Force energy upon the empty fighter. The Preybird's raptor like wings deliberately began to fold up and over the fighter's superstructure, the metal screeching like that of a wounded bird. The wing already damaged snapped first, quickly followed by the opposite wing. A myriad assortment of spider web like cracks began to appear in the transparisteel canopy as Tryjo continued to apply ever greater pressure to the ship's hull. As its durasteel plates began to feel the mounting pressure bearing down upon them, the ship began to creak and moan with a sickening sound. The cacophony of twisting metal reverberated in Tryo’s ears and a grim smile found its way to his lips as he continued to channel his anger and frustration. Clenching his fists and pulling his arms inward toward his chest, Tryjo set loose with another surge of powerful Dark Side energy. Small fissures began to form in the weakened areas already present from the fighter’s earlier malfunctions, and then, the Preybird shuttered, giving in to the tremendous power of the Force; it subsequently imploded in upon itself with a whooshing sound.

Feeling mentally and physically drained from channeling so much Dark Side energy, Tryjo collapsed to the ground and gawked at the destruction he had unleashed. The Dark Side of the Force seemed to have limitless power – all based upon the individual’s ability to channel enough emotion to fuel that power. Tryjo felt that he had enough pent up emotion to tear an entire planet apart from its core outward, but he knew that attempting to control so much power put a terrible amount of stress on the physical body. Besides, these outbursts of unadulterated devastation had become an all too often occurrence as of late, and being in the presence of an old Shadow training facility, Tryjo could almost feel Quinton’s disapproving eyes boring into him. Centering his emotional being, Tryjo began to feel the burning sensation of the Dark Side leaving his body. And as it did so, Tryjo began to feel a pang of regret for what he had done. He was allowing Gantoris to become the ultimate victor by systematically destroying himself little by little. Not only that, but he also had to explain to Calon why he destroyed one of the operation’s Preybirds. Pulling his legs inward toward his body, Tryjo positioned himself in a cross-legged sitting position. Placing his hands upon his knees, Tryjo closed his eyes and began to further quiet his mind. He began to equalize his emotions by reaching out to the familiar Force energies that were still emanating from the Shadow structure, and by reciting the Shadow mantra.

There is peace, yet there is passion.
Knowledge begets power.
There is action, yet there is sensibility.
Unity brings strength.
There is destruction, yet there is creation;
A cycle of birth, death, and rebirth within the Force.

I am the hub of the wheel on which the Force turns.
I refused light. I rejected darkness.
I have felt the death of the Force.
I have seen its glorious rebirth.
I make my own path through the shadows of the Force.

*****

The geothermal generators were still active – that was a good thing. The entire training center had been built over a series of geothermal vents that pumped various gasses and steam to the surface from deep within Jankok’s core. Manufactured by the SoroSubb Corporation, the generators could use this natural occurrence to power the facility as long as the planet itself remained alive; barring any technological or mechanical malfunction of the machinery that is. To combat this problem, a host of maintenance droids, to include some rather witty G2’s, were ever busy replacing and repairing damaged equipment. These droids must have been doing an excellent job, as an automated door opened and closed as Tryjo passed through into the interior of the main facility. Tryjo was a bit surprised that the training center was left unsecured, but during the chaos following Quinton’s death and Gantoris’ coup d’état, it wasn’t all that surprising, really.

The Force was flowing freely throughout the building, and Tryjo allowed it to wash over him; taking in its rejuvenating properties. He was still somewhat weary from his earlier exertion, but Tryjo was eager to find Quinton’s private library. The ancient tomes, manuscripts, scrolls, and artifacts contained therein could catapult Tryjo’s own knowledge of the Force to new heights. Tryjo had spent countless hours in actual physical training with Quinton and other Master’s of the Force, but he had never devoted time to the study of the academia of the Force. Tryjo had not been privy to Quinton’s private library, but then again, he had never asked to view the contents either. Now, Tryjo was not about to let the opportunity to possess the knowledge Quinton kept to himself pass into oblivion, or into someone else’s undeserving or unworthy hands.

The doorway that Tryjo passed through lead into a small antechamber that contained a receptionist’s desk. Reaching into the pocket of his trousers, Tryjo pulled out a small rectangular datacard given to him by Lina’il. Lina’il was Quinton’s one time personal assistant, and she had placed herself in Tryjo’s service after the Praetor’s untimely death. A Lethan Twi’lik, Lina’il had a natural beauty that was equally matched by her skill in the Force; a very valuable combination of traits. This is partly the reason why she played an integral role in the construction of the very facility where Tryjo now found himself. Lina’il had been tasked with masking the training center’s construction from the eyes of many in the Shadow Order. Only a select group knew of the actual development of such a place, and even that group was not privy to the location. Records were conveniently lost, forged, or destroyed; resources were unknowingly reallocated; and those that found themselves unable to keep the matter quiet were silenced.

Slipping around to the rear of the receptionist’s desk, Tryjo ran his hands across the dusty console of a terminal station. To his satisfaction, the machine began to come to life with a glow of flickering lights and beeps. Tryjo inserted the datacard into the reader on the terminal and punched in his personal encryption code to begin accessing the data it contained. A sly smile found its way to his lips as a complete diagram of the training center came into view. Tryjo quickly identified his location as being on the ground floor of the east wing. The primary function of this entire area was predominately for student housing, but Tryjo did take note of a notation made by Lina’il that the area was also juxtaposed to a large power conduit that fed the entire wing. Not that Tryjo was expecting trouble, but it was always best to be prepared for any type of situation that might arise.

Tryjo ran his finger across the map display, panning it in several different directions while scanning it with his eyes. Lina’il had done an excellent job laying out the floor plan for the facility in spite of the sheer scope of its size. Stretching for hundreds of Imperial Standard Meters in each direction, the training center could easily be confused for a fortress. Coming to the edge of the display, Tryjo spied what he was searching for – an access point to the lower levels of the facility. There were no levels higher than the ground floor of the complex, but there were a series of lower levels that would rival the size of the ground floor. It was there, on the lowest level, that Tryjo would find Quinton’s private chambers and claim his prize. Plucking the datacard from the reader, Tryjo cleared the display and locked the terminal with a self-actuating encryption protocol.

Exiting the antechamber, Tryjo found himself in a large circular room with a high, translucent ceiling. There was no décor to speak of in the room save for a stone podium approximately one and a half meters high in the middle of the room. Whatever had rested atop the podium had long since been removed, and as Tryjo strode by the silent monolith, he rubbed his hand across the top as a sign of respect for those that would never have the opportunity to do so. Three halls lead away from the circular room in addition to the entrance to the antechamber. Finding the appropriate hall, Tryjo picked up his pace to a brisk walk toward the entrance to the lower levels. After several twists and turns – and roughly fifteen minutes of speed walking – Tryjo had made it to the heavily fortified, locked, blast doors. It appeared that the fleeing troops had not left the facility as unsecure as Tryjo had initially thought. This had been expected and Lina’il had the forethought to give Tryjo a list of passkeys that had been used at this particular training center. However, after the fleeing Shadows had secured the door, they promptly obliterated the door’s control panel with several well placed blaster shots. Thus, Tryjo’s passkeys were basically useless.

Not to be dissuaded, Tryjo walked to within inches of the blast doors and stretched out his arms to place both his palms upon their cold, gray surface. Despite their appearance, the doors were remarkably smooth to the touch, and Tryjo could almost feel the faint vibration of a nearby generator reverberating in the durasteel. Clearing his mind, Tryjo reached out with his senses to locate the substantial cogs and gears that held the crisscrossing metal doors in place. Buried deep within the walls, Tryjo located the mechanisms that controlled the doors movement. Seizing upon the swirling currents of Force energy, Tryjo beckoned them to propel the giant gears in order to open the blast doors. Nothing. Reaffirming his concentration, Tryjo began to visualize the innerworkings of the assembly; seeing with his mind’s eye what he was summoning the Force to achieve. Manipulating tendrils of Force energy, Tryjo intertwined them throughout the gears and began to implore these tendrils to rotate the gears; thus, opening the doors.

Nothing!

” Ahem,” which was Calon’s way of beginning a conversation when he knew he had an answer, stepped up behind Tryjo and placed his hand on his shoulder. ” I’m glad to see that you made it safely to the surface, Calon. I take it you have a suggestion,” responded Tryjo with an exasperated sigh. ” Why don’t you let me take a more practical approach to opening these doors, my friend.” Calon’s words were smooth as Dramassian shimmersilk, and Tryjo didn’t have to use his innate abilities in the Force to sense that Calon was undeniably sincere. Stepping aside, Tryjo observed Calon inspecting the durasteel doors with the intensity of an ISB Agent. After several moments, Calon reached up with his right hand, which he had formed into a fist, and ever so gently, he bumped the giant metal doors. And just like that, they opened. Calon, wearing his ever so debonair smile, turned to regard Tryjo. ” Maintenance droids can be ever so useful,” Calon said with dry wit. ” You may recall the power conduit Lina’il made note of in her report? Shiine had prepared data spikes prior to our arrival here that were capable of overriding the command line codes keeping doors such as these sealed. We commandeered one of the facility’s maintenance droids, outfitted it with the spike, and sent it into the conduit for implementation.” As if on cue, Calon’s commlink began to chirp. Flipping the activation switch, Shiine’s staticky voice came over the unit. ” Everything going okay in there? Even from the surface, I’m having trouble penetrating the facility’s dampening fields.” Calon, noticing Tryjo’s subtle shake of the head, carelessly tossed the commlink over to his waiting hand. ” Shiine, everything is fine. Keep watch and do not disembark from the ship. Hold your position there and notify us immediately of any anonymously readings.” With that, Tryjo deactivated the comm and handed it back to Calon.

The two men strode through the opening once sealed tightly by the blast doors, and both of them could smell the staleness of the air once they had made it a few meters within. Sparsely placed glowpanels illuminated the narrowing corridor that finally ended at the entrance to a lift. Tryjo spotted an intact control panel blinking ceaselessly on the wall next to the lift doors. Shooting Calon a sideways glance, Tryjo inserted one of his pass keys into the appropriate slot on the panel and waited for authorization. After a few moments, the lights lit green and the lift doors opened. Calon held out his hand and gestured toward Tryjo. ” After you,” said Calon with a sparkle in his eyes. Tryjo was not sure if Calon was genuinely interested in what lie ahead, or if he was only in this for the possibility of furthering his own agenda. Nevertheless, Tryjo would see to it that the Shadow artifacts hidden within the bowels of the facility were recovered.

Stepping into the turbolift, Tryjo inserted another of his pass keys into the control panel on interior wall of the same. The doors methodically slid shut and the lift started to descend. Keeping his gaze straight ahead of him, Tryjo spoke, ” Everything within this facility can be salvaged for the organization, Calon. With the exception of my former Master’s personal belongings – those old books and trinkets.” Calon’s lip twitched a bit at hearing Tryjo quoting his sardonic remarks from an earlier conversation, and a pang of guilt reverberated through his body. ” I meant no offense, my old friend. I’ve spent my life orchestrating a business that thrives on the supply and demand of goods and information. For the moment, I cannot see the value of these things you seek, but I trust that they will serve you – and our organization – well.” Tryjo turned and gave Calon a modest nod of the head in acceptance and assurance of his somewhat of an apology.

With the slightest of jolts, the lift came to a halt on the lowest level of the Shadow training facility. As the doors began to slowly separate, Tryjo readied himself for the possibility of hostiles. However, the lift opened into a vestibule that was found to be as deserted as the upper level that he and Calon had just left; both of them being the only sentients present. Stepping into the vestibule, Tryjo noted that the room was bare of any furnishings or control panels, save the call button for the lift, and there was a single set of steelstone doors set at an angle off to the right of the lift doors. There were intricate carvings and marks covering the frame surrounding the steelstone doors, but Tryjo could not ascertain their meaning or origin. ” Have you ever seen markings like this?” said Tryjo as he traced the lines of one of the pictograms with his finger. ” Can’t say that I have,” Calon put in as he approached the alien markings for a closer look. Calon placed his palm flat against the frame and began to run his hand over the markings. ” Nonetheless, there’s no control panel that I can find. Looks like I can’t bail you out with a practical approach when it comes to opening these doors.”

Tryjo positioned himself about three meters to the front of the intimidating steelstone doors and fixed a staunch gaze upon them. Clearing his mind of despair or doubt, Tryjo reached out with his mind’s eye and touched upon the currents of the Force. The ebb and flow of the Force was vigorous in the depths of the Shadow facility. Perhaps it was due to the echo of Quinton and the impression he made here, or perhaps it was just that the currents of Force energy swirled with a natural energic nature here. Nevertheless, Tryjo found himself in the midst of this energy field – connected to it – and through this connection, he was essentially one with everything around him. Tryjo harkened to the Force and the Force harkened unto him.

Steadying himself in place, Tryjo began to manipulate the flowing tendrils of Force energy; bending their natural trajectories so that they would travel along a path of his choosing. The Force began to coil and flex under the direction of Tryjo, and he began to steer the currents toward the steelstone doors. Being one with everything around him, Tryjo could feel the sheer weight of the stone doors. He could feel the coldness. He could feel the denseness. He could feel the power of the Force. Tapping into this unlimited power source, Tryjo began to beckon it to swing open the steelstone doors; to reveal the secrets that lay behind them. Particles of dust began to fall from the ceiling above as pulses of energy began to vibrate the entire vestibule. Cutting his eyes back and forth, Calon began to become somewhat concerned that the entire structure may come crashing down upon them. However, he remained silent and stood steadfast by Tryjo’s side. As Tryjo compelled the Force more fervently to pull the doors open, small fissures began to form around their massive frame. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on Tryjo’s brow as his concentration became as fierce as that of Nexu stalking its prey. As the pressure exerted on the steelstone doors began to mount, the tiny fissures began to morph into full-fledged cracks. ”Tryjo,” Calon murmured – his voice tight with anxiety. ”Tryjo!” This time, Calon put more a little more inflexion in the tone of his voice.

Breaking his concentration and simultaneously releasing his grip on the steelstone doors, Tryjo turned to regard Calon. ”I’m sorry that I have brought you here, Calon.” Tryjo’s words were filled with despair and Calon could see that his comrade was visibly dismayed. ”In my arrogance, I knew that I had the abilities to claim what I believed to be rightfully mine. It would seem that the Force has indicated that I am indeed not ready.” Tryjo looked back to the pictographs surrounding the immovable doors and wondered if he would ever be deemed ready to claim the former Praetor’s mantle.
”When is anyone ever ready to achieve greatness, Tryjo.” Calon’s voice was calm, and for an instant, reminded Tryjo of his old Master. ”You speak of your arrogance and your abilities , but what of the arrogance and abilities of the Force. I’ve seen you do amazing things, my friend. But, I’ve never seen this mystical Force of yours do a damn thing.” Hearing this, Tryjo quickly turned to regard Calon. Tryjo had initially intended to chastise Calon for his disrespect of the Force within the confines of the Shadow facility, but then, as if a switch had been suddenly activated within Tryjo’s mind, he seized the man. ”Calon, you fool! Or, should I say that I’ve been the fool! How could I not have seen this before.” Tryjo released Calon from his grip and turned back to face the stone doors, his face displaying the exuberance he felt within his body. ”You see Calon, I have been manipulating the Force to achieve my own personal goals.” Tryjo raised his left hand and broadly gestured to the carvings inlaid around the steelstone doors. ”These markings are indicative of the Force, you see. They have made their impression upon the frame of the door. I am too a door; a door through which the Force enters and interacts with the physical world. I have not allowed the Force to make its impression upon me – to alter my thoughts and actions. How foolish I have been, Calon.” Calon regarded Tryjo with a wry smile. To be honest, he didn’t have the faintest idea what Tryjo was talking about, but he would never admit it. ”Does that mean you have a practical approach to opening this up now?” Calon may have been proud of his friend’s revelation, but he was still a businessman at heart. ”Maybe,” Tryjo said shrugging his shoulders.

Tryjo closed his eyes and began to focus on the mystical carvings that surrounded the steelstone doors. The carvings themselves were not decipherable by Tryjo, but he knew that they must be the key to gaining access to Quinton’s sanctum. Harkening the Force once again, Tryjo allowed the currents to direct his mind’s eye – to dictate where they would travel. The swirls of energy began to mimic the carvings etched into the stone walls, but to Tryjo’s surprise, they began to glow, morph, and combine. Ever so slowly, Tryjo influenced the tendrils of energy to fill the crevices and divots made by the markins; filling the void with energy. Methodically, Tryjo filled each symbol with imbued Force energy. Holding the currents steady, Tryjo began to excite the field of energy, shifting the very atoms caught within the flow until they began to produce…”Static electricity!” Calon blurted. Focusing to keep his concentration, Tryjo continued exciting the field of energy until the symbols embedding in the rock wall frame began to glow with a reddish color. Connecting the proverbial dots around the entire structure, Tryjo laced the static charge together until a complete electrical circuit was formed. When the last of the symbols were weaved together, Tryjo heard a distinctive clanking sound denoting the disengagement of a heavy locking mechanism. Allowing his mind to release its grip on the Force, and vice versa, Tryjo strode forward and gave the steelstone doors a push. Despite their gargantuan size, they slid open with relative ease.

Tryjo entered Quinton’s private chambers and stood silent for several minutes. Calon rifled through a few loose flimsiplast documents that lay atop an old desk made of quasiwood, but out of respect for Tryjo, he waited before digging much further. Tryjo could feel Quinton’s presence in the room. It was a presence he had not felt for a long time. His Master may have been physically dead, but Tryjo now knew that the Force had the power to alter his world in ways that he could not possibly imagine. With that newfound knowledge, Tryjo found solace because he knew that Quinton was now, and would always be, present.