Faux

Squinting as she raised her hand against the mid day light, Faux gazed at the climbing spires of the royal castle through the shadow cast by her fingertips. Grand as it seemed, shining brilliantly with the reflective sun against its gleaming white surfaces, it didn't seem to suit her fancy. Now shooting stuff, that sounded fun. As Aryian pised the question of where to practice, Faux settled quickly on the cargo loading areas. "I'd rather not accidentally shoot royalty if I can avoid it, and those walls seem to want to keep horrible things away from the city so that doesn't seem wise either. Let's try the cargo... place."

Boundless energy... but at a high cost? Her thoughts lingered back to Mechis as they strolled onward through the crowd. Watching her teacher stand barefoot on molten metal had been mesmerizing, inspiring beyond words. Yet the effort it required from the old man was evident in the creases of his brow. Every other technique hehad shown her up until then he did so with minimal effort, an idle thought, a lazy sigh of power, but upon that molten metal he labored. In time she was able to grasp the technique, making his display all the more phenomenal. Remembering all of this, Faux's mind spun at what Aryian could have meant by boundless, and what constituted a high cost. When they first met Aryian's arm had been in a sling and his eyes wrapped. It had only been recently he was able to heal from those injuries, even with his knowledge of self healing through the Force. Could it have been this unspoken power that had wounded him? As many questions as she had, his hushed tone and nondescript description said enough to know she wouldn't get a good answer. Her curiosity dodged, the only path left was forward. As tall spires broke through and above the cityscape, she continued to follow her teacher's lead and trust he would know what was best for her. "True enough. Do you have a place in mind? I imagine the locals will be quite upset if we start shooting practice in the middle of the street."

Faux silently considered the advice as she passively watched the exchanges of business around them. All of those looking to buy carried a disinterest in their demeanor, like it was a chore for them to even be caught up in this large scale hustle, while all of the sales people labored beneath false smiles and forced exuberance. Why did they put themselves through all of this insincerity? If the customers weren't excited to receive new goods, why spend so much time and money on them? The whole process seemed... pointless. Then again, what could you expect when their lives are so greatly removed from what is required to live? Trivial behaviors for trivial matters. The credit chip felt so small between her fingers as she flipped it around in her pocket, but in this world it seemed so powerful, especially after Aryian hinted at how much currency it held. "The palace sounds like a good plan." She said the words, but her tone didn't carry the same brightness it held when they first arrived. For all the shiny things, this world just reminded her of the lessons on avarice from her childhood. Most of these merchants probably had no idea how their wares were made or who put their time and effort into making them. The customers didn't know or care about these details either. The whole process held no quality to it. The palace would probably show her much of the same. Opulent design and unnecessary resources devoted to such a small percent of the population. The grand purpose of the massive wall surrounding the city seemed to pale in contrast to the decadence of the city it protected. "On the way you can tell me about your best Force technique." This time she spoke with a smile, summoning her excitement for something she considered much more pertinent. No doubt the palace would be beautiful, but in the scheme of things none of it really mattered. What made her happy, and what was more important to her, was her continued studies. It was good to get out of the dojo and see the galaxy, but it all came with a grain of salt.

As she wandered, wide eyed and amazed with every little thing, Faux couldn't help but feel her spirits lifted by the shared exuberance from the people she passed. Aryian had fallen behind somewhere, but oddly she remained vaguely aware of his presence in the massive crowd as she let herself be swallowed by it. It felt so liberating being among so many and to be looked over as just another part of the crowd. She could go where she wanted, stare at and fiddle with whatever shineys caught her eye and no one troubled her. There were stores for everything. Parts, tools, art, clothes, childrens toys, weapons, food from many reaches of the galaxy, baubles for every nuanced look, paints she noticed many women accentuated themselves with, everything she could think of and so much more she could never imagine. The only time she noticed glances in her direction were when idle eyes stumbled across her lightsaber with a dire recognition, but whatever the weapon meant to these people they were polite or afraid enough to keep to themselves. Never the less, the attention was enough to put a stutter in her peaceful anonimity mingling in the crowd, and pressed her for the need to buy some sort of coat or cloak to hide the public disturbance. Pity, though, as she was thoroughly enjoying the open air on her skin. Perusing through the clothing stores as she came upon them, Faux found the experience of shopping strange. Every article of clothing she had ever worn had been things given to her by the monks that raised her, and their aesthetic had always fallen under 'form follows function'. With so many options available, it felt like she was designing a lightsaber all over again. So many variables to consider, like the durability of material, breathability if she were to pick a light jacket, insulation if she expected to go anywhere particularly cold, pockets, feel. Over seven seperate stores and four far too persistent sales clerks, it took Faux over two hours to settle on three options. Now, staring at the same jacket she had revisited four times now, Faux was sure the sales clerk thought she was strange. To be fair, this whole experience felt weird. This jacket was knee length, covering the long lightsaber strapped to her thigh, made of a some sort of thick, dark brown cloth that was treated to block out rain, but woven in a way that still breathed. The interior lining felt cool and smooth on her skin, and the internal breast pocket and two outer pockets were pretty deep, too, something sorely lacking in most of the other 'women's' models she looked at. Best of all, when she buttoned it up it hugged her body well and held in heat enough to make space travel more tolerable. Finally sure of herself, she took the jacket to the counter and smiled courteously at the clerk. "Find everything okay?" The clerk said with a candied, higher pitched than expected tone. Confused, Faux narrowed her eyes slightly trying to figure out what the clerk meant. Was she supposed to buy something else? Was there a custom she was missing? "No, this was all I wanted. Thank you." She held her smile, though felt it waiver slightly in a panic that she was doing all of this wrong, maybe even breaking some sort of law somehow. "You know," The clerk started, pausing to look around the store. "Your bag doesn't really go with this jacket. The rest of..." The clerk looked Faux over once, clearly appraising her. "Your ensemble fits, but that bag is no good." "Its not?" Faux said, deflated and a little hurt as her congenial smile melted away with the looming realization that she had, indeed, frakked up. "How about...this satchel. You seem like the traveling type who enjoys the liberty provided by larger carrying space." "Well, I suppose I do travel a bit but..." But I've had this canvas bag for as long as I can remember. "Yes," The clerk said boldly, holding up the satchel next to the jacket. They did have the same shade of dark brown, and the buttons were the exact same. Even the stitching thread was the same. "It's as if they were made for one another." Would it be wrong of me to deny this pairing? Do these people believe in spirits in everything, and maybe these two things have spirits that are somehow connected? Will I offend these people if I refuse this pairing? "I suppose I can't seperate them..." "Smart decision!" Gleamed the clerk, ringing up the satchel without pause with a mechanical beep. "That will be seven hundred and fifty-five credits." Faux fumbled for the credit chip Aryian had given her, handing it to the clerk and watched as she pressed it to her machine, chiming with an approved transaction and promptly returned to her. The machine printed out a small piece of paper detailing the transaction that the clerk handed her back with the credit chip. Faux said she didn't need a bag, putting on the jacket right away, putting her old satchel inside the newer, noticably bigger one. As she left, Faux felt mentally drained. Shopping was exhausting. Gliding her hand across her lightsaber beneath her jacket, she closed her eyes and concentrated on Aryian, feeling him not far from where she had left him. Ten minutes of parsing he way through the crowd and the two of them were reunited. "Is it some sort of custom or law that certain items have to pair with other things? Everything I looked at apparently came with several other things."

Iziz looked beatiful from the viewport. As the cargo ship broke atmosphere, Faux found herself tranfixed, in awe of the sprawling, white cityscape unfolding before her. All around the city rose a massive wall. The city's entry on her datapad said the wall was to keep out the many savage beasts of Onderon's lush jungles. It must have felt nice, she thought, to live in a place so removed from the dangerous elements of nature. Tatooine had nothing close toward protecting its citizens. And the white architecture felt so much cleaner than the reddish beige everything in the desert was made out of. She wasn't even on the ground yet and she loved Iziz. As she and Aryian left the ship he gave her the option of exploring or continuing her training. Immediately Faux was torn between her two curiosities. Training always felt blike it took priority, but she wasn't sure how long they were going to be staying on Onderon. Perhaps it would be wise for them to get a feel for their surroundings...and look at all the new, shiney things. "Let's walkabout for a while, see what we can see." She made no attempt to hide her wonder, quickening her pace to pull ahead of Aryian, her eyes darting to every new thing that they passed.

Finding herself aboard a starship for the third time in her life, Faux again found the experience chilling and mesmerizing. Chilling as it was both noticably colder to her on board than planet side, even with the atmospheric conditioners, and at the thought of such a narrow wall of metal protecting her from the vast nothingness of space. Maybe it was because of her recent awakening to the Force, but that nothingness felt so much bigger now. But then again, the absolute clarity of the sea of stars out the viewport always took her breath away faster than any vaccum could. The trip was a relatively short one, no need for quarters, so instead they were given a section of cargo hold to 'exercise' as Aryian had put it to the crew. They didn't seem happy about it, but obliged the two of them just the same. Once they were alone and well on their way, Aryian set the remote to fly about the cargo hold as he went about talking her through her first experience with a blaster. She was keen to listen, but a part of her unconscious mind couldn't help but follow the remote as it flew to and fro. The explaination seemed simple enough. Proper footing to angle the body parallel with the weapon, focus on the target and aligning the two sights, breath control to stablize, and a gentle squeeze of the trigger to avoid pulling the weapon off alignment. These few steps made the blaster sound like the simplest weapon she had ever worked with, but Faux knew that to be a lie. There had to be more to it than these few precepts. So, without much ado, Faux drew her blaster into her left hand and immediately fired a bolt into the floor, nearly dropping it out as her arm jerked away from the suddenness of noise and light. A sideways glance saw Aryian smirking, but wordless in that way he got when he was more interested in her trying than taking her by the hand, so without lingering on the mistake beyond the reddening of her cheeks Faux began to posture her body at a leftward angle, careful to keep her trigger finger resting on the guard until she was ready to fire. Raising the blaster, Faux cupped her right hand under her left and tilted her head slightly to look down the sight. At first she didn't even bother finding the remote in the reticle, instead taking the time to adjust her positioning until it felt more natural. Like everything else worth practicing, the how of it should be understood with methodical patience. Now that her posture felt better, she began to measure her breathing. Even though Aryian wanted her to avoid using the Force to assist her in this task, Faux found it surprisingly difficult to not slip into meditation, her awarenessof the ever present Force becoming a more constant and unconcious thing by the day. Even still, she didn't draw the Force to herself beyond what gravitated to her naturally. This in itself felt like something she needed to practice. Not just how to focus and draw the Force to one's self, but also how to relax and let the unnecessary drift just outside of the conscious mind. She took a few phantom shots in her mind, aiming down the sight and mentally squeezing the trigger in time with her exhale. Now all that was left was to do the real thing. Instinctively she found the remote, buzzing about the cargo bay in a languid but seemingly erratic fashion. Again, another few phantom shots, this time following the remote as it moved about. Then, staying in rhythm, her finger slipped off the guard and onto the trigger, squeezing slowly and softly until she felt it give ever so slightly and a bright red bolt came screaming out. The first shot missed the remote, but just barely. The bolt was fast, but not instantaneous. If she wanted to hit the remote, the shot would have to be a fraction of a second ahead of the remote's path to account for travel time. In that way it was a lot like throwing knives, but much simpler as you didn't have to figure rotations over distance. The second shot, too, missed, as the remote randomly veered off course in the time it took her to slowly squeeze the trigger. If she had just squeezed it a bit faster, maybe... For another half hour she continued to take slow, methodical shots, clipping the remote occassionally or even directly hitting it only to miss the next shot. If she could use the Force she could see how this would be much easier, but Aryian wanted her to learn this skill without the Force's aid. So on and on she kept firing, eventually able to score five successive hits. Good thing, too, because the blaster was nearing its end of ammunition. She brought a few extra cells with her, but didn't want to have to break concentration to reload. "Well, that was both frustrating and fun. I can definately see how useful firearms can be in certain circumstances."

Faux rubbed her eyes abscently as she nodded at Aryian, pushing aside self pity for the greater abstract truth that there is no absolute answer. She half bowed as she was customed to dismiss herself wordlessly, heading first toward her room to retrieve her songsteel staff for the journey. What was it that would make her happy? For the longest time she thought that if she was free to leave the monastery and explore the galaxy on her own she would see such wonderful things that something would spark her interest. Her daydreams always drifted her to acts of service that would surround her with kind, well meaning people. Teaching, building, farming, simple things to settle into after a short lifetime among the stars. But right out of the gate, from the very first planet she found herself amidst men who preyed on others for the shortsighted desire of wealth. Rather than push on and give the galaxy another chance, she fell into the first offer of protection under tutelage. The only thing that made her feel happy and safe was the familiarity that came from seclusion and focus solely on self cultivation. Maybe that was all she should worry about for now, at least until she had some measure of mastery over this thing called the Force, and worry about serving others as opportunities arose? Reaching her room feeling a little more resolved, Faux packed her satchel of a few small sundries and a spare set of clothes, noticing the kyber necklace laying on the nightstand. It gave her a sense of unfinished business, like this second of the twin crystals was fated to be a part of another project. Her brow furrowed at an unknown task uncompleted, and she put the necklace on to remind herself of it. She also wished she had more than one set of clothes. Maybe she could find something on Onderon? Satchel packed and staff in hand, she shut the door to her room and headed off toward the armory. It was one of the many parts of the Dojo she hadn't been to yet. Keying the entry pad, Faux's eyes went wide as the door parted and revealed enough weapons to field a militia. A great many of them were melee weapons, relfecting Aryian's mastery of weapons, but firearms were not found wanting. Pistols, rifles, cannons, parts as far as the eye could see. Her mind went ablaze with the possibilities, but now wasn't the time. If she wasn't headed off planet she would dive into the terminal just as she had on her lightsaber research to utilize this armory to the best of her ability. For now, though, she picked up the first blaster within arms reach that wasn't too bulky. Strapping the holster to her rigt thigh and securing it to her belt, she adjusted the strap until the blaster grip was at the proper reach from her hand. Blaster on the right, lightsaber on the left. Once she was satisfied with how the holster sat, she left and sealed the armory, heading back to Aryian. "So what's on Onderon?"

She narrowed her eyes in pensive consideration. She didn't like the idea of anyone having an impact on her future other than herself, but if it weren't for people like Aryian she would most definately be on a different path. While she considered herself amenable and open minded, she ultimately considered her opinion the final word on all things considering herself. Why should others get a say on who or what she was? "Of course," She said as she pulled the small training remote out of the pouch on her hip. "But I haven't had much chance to use it." Faux tossed the remote to Aryian as she called her lightsaber from the table to her hand, clipping it to her belt. Turning to return her own dishes to the recepticle, she noticed how the lightsaber twirled a bit on her hip, swinging wildly in her stride. Her nose scrunched at the unanticipated flaw in her design. Of all the small things to not consider... Untying one of the leather straps around her wrist, Faux twisted a loop into part of it, then tied the rest of it around her thigh and slipped the lightsaber snuggly into the loop. Now it didn't swing oddly as she walked. "I suppose you're right about respect. I guess I never really considered developing relationships with people outside of the monastery. I mean, student and teacher is one thing, but...I've never really had friends, or any sort of cause or purpose to align me with others. Just monks who onlyever worried about my training. They cared for me, sure, and wanted me to be happy, but considered nothing outside of their lifestyles as possibilities of happiness. I still don't know what I should do, so all I focus on is training. It's my only means of measuring my progress forward in my own life." She blinked rapidly, suddenly realizing the almost tears welling up at the corners ofher eyes and how drastically real she got out of no where.

Test it out on what? Droids? Surely he doesn't mean to get me into a real fight. He seemed to accept the lightsaber as sufficiet, but it was hard to tell. Other than a grunt at her mention of the external crystal network, her Master said nothing noteworthy about the blade. It was nifty and felt nice, so it was good enough. She smiled warmly as he thanked her for breakfast, glad he was eating. She thought silently as she ate, considering the path outlined in front of her. The speed of her training wasn't concerning to Faux. How other people learned didn't matter so long as she understood the lessons herself, and learning a lot of different techniques only let her examine how they interact. Maybe she did have natural talents, but that didn't make her any better than anyone. If anything it could be a weakness if she let it go to her head. Picking up a subject with ease didn't make her struggle to wrap herself around it. Maybe it made sense to her immediately through one point of view, but full understanding may not come until looking at it from every angle, in conjunction with everything else you have struggled to comprehend. Struggling to master something is what developed strength of mind and body, not the subject of study itself. Perservering, pushing youself further and further everyday, that was true power. Ultimately her gifts were also her burdens if she fell into the trap of relying on them too much. Another thing she paused to consider was the recognition of being on par with Jedi knights. "I'll take whatever tests you think best, but does it really matter if others acknowledge me or not? I'm quite content mastering myself to my own standards and practices. Their opinion of standards can only act as a point of reference to benchmark my progress, but it doesn't really give me anything, does it? They can't tell me who or what I am. Only I have the ability to shape myself."

"Oh, sure." She said as she got up from the table to prepare some breakfast. She wasn't sure if Aryian had eaten yet, but given his eating habits he was probably one of those people who skipped the meal in exchange for four cups of caf. "Didn't explode, which is probably good. Haven't really run it through a full trial yet. I figure the internal switches are going to take a little time to get adjusted to, but best to do that from the start rather than have to learn the controls all over again." She started gathering supplies, mixing the powdered egg with milk and cinnamon. "Go ahead and ckeck it out if you like. The four internal switches are just below the emitter, running parallel to the hilt. Top one is length, then width, power level, then the on/off switch." Next she started cutting the bread into strips while warming up a pan on the range. "The crystals on the outside let me channel energy into and out of the lightsaber. The practice at the foundry gave me the idea." Dunking the strips of bread into the eggs, she then set them one by one in the pan. This type of scrambled toast took a while to make, so she washed her hands and the dishes she used to prepare the meal. "I balanced it out to dampen the gyroscopic motion, and gave it a magnetic pommel cap to attach to the staff I also had commisioned." Once the dishes were done she took a spatula and flipped the toast, now turned a lovely golden brown on the top. "I had to fabricate a few unique pieces for the emitter and lenses, but the blade should have a much broader range than standard lightsabers. I figured you would appreciate the maleability." Perfectly grilled on both sides, Faux pulled the strips of egg battered toast from the pan and divided them between two plates. She looked around the rest of the kitchen, but couldn't find any syrup sadly. Instead she had to settle on dusting the toast with a little powdered sugar. She set one plate in front of Aryian and returned to her seat opposite him, wasting no time digging in. While she was very interested to hear what he had to say about the lightsaber, and would love to hear him praise her considerate craftsmanship, she already knew she had made a blade that would suit her well enough. This was her first one after all, and she could always make more. Her designs could only improve from here.

Something was...poking her. In the ribs. Hard. At first her muddled mind thought the sensation some vague vestige of a dream, but with each gnawing jab the waking world could not be denied. "Are you alive?" Inquired a mechanical, monotone voice, delivering another uncomfortable poke. "Yes..." She mumbled into her pillow. What time was it? She was up way into the morning, but with no windows in her room it was impossible to tell the time of day. Something told her she had only been asleep a couple of hours and the dawn was still unfolding, but she had no reason to know that. Another sharp poke in the ribs. "Master Darkfire requires your presence at his location." The smell of coffee told her he was in the kitchen. Did the droid trail it in? The kitchen was too far away for the smell to make it all the way here on its own. "Tell him I will be there in twenty minutes." The droid said nothing in acknowledgement, and as it left Faux slipped from the bed to go into stretches, wincing for a moment at the soreness in her ribs. Why the droid chose to poke her repeatedly in the ribs was beyond her. After stretching and calisthenics a quick shower and change of clothes, back into the white dojo robes, and she was on her way to the kitchen, lightsaber in hand. Taking a seat at te table across from Aryian, Faux set her lightsaber on the table without cermony as she poured herself a glass of juice. "Your droids are weird. Do they not know what sleeping is, or is a jab in the ribs the preferred method of checking vitals around here?"

Kyber crystal in hand, Faux took leave of the workshop to find a nice, comfortable place to sit for a few hours. Just looking at the crystals and feeling for a response was one thing, but this particular crystal required cutting and polishing before it could be aligned. To know the best way to go about that she would have to spend a long time guiding the Force through the crystal to feel the flow of the lattices hidden deep within. Without the effort, blindly hacking and sawing at the piece to make the facets one would find most shiney and shapely, she would most likely cleave through ley lines through which energy flowed the best. Energy would still flow through the butchered crystal, but a portion of it would shoot off trajectory, bouncing through the crystal and pushing energy that would be on course off course. The effect would be negligible in the broad scheme of design, but it was a matter of quality over negligence. She was taught to do everything with the maximum of both her effort and consideration. Anything less was a waste. The crystal was warm in her hands, with an almost distinguishable anticipation toward a new purpose at Faux’s hands. Or perhaps it was a mere reflection of her own eagerness? The idea was amusing to ponder as she walked around the Dojo. She admittedly hadn't taken much time out of her training to explore very thoroughly. It felt like once she had looked over the layout on the terminal it was committed to memory and all sense of curiosity dwelt on the greater mystery of the Force rather than her surroundings. Until now she didn’t mind not knowing the building that intimately. She felt safe here with Aryian. The solitude they experiences reminded her of the monastery back home. She settled on the memorial hall. It would be a nice place to consider the conviction of past legends while aligning her own into the heart of the crystal that would help her see it through. Faux wasn't familiar with all of their stories, but a few of them had come up in her research on the Force. Monsters and brigands, selfless healers and brash heroes, the men and women standing a story tall in this hall shaped the galaxy, for better or worse, through sheer force of will. This would be a splendid place to meditate on the intention of her first weapon. The floor was cool to the touch as she eased into a seated position. She kept her hands folded in her lap as the palm sized crystal continued to warm them, and slowly began finding her rhythm. In and out, gentle yet persistent, feeling the wellspring within her abdomen uncoil and swell with her acknowledgement. The hall felt quiet, though she wasn't sure why she thought it would be any different. It wasn't like these great figures held a vestige of their formal presence. They were not here to witness her task and judge her accordingly. This effort was entirely in her hands, at the consideration or care of no one else. Further into the trance, even the hallway began to fade away, leaving Faux in the vast field of her mind with nothing but a crystal and a tree. It was just like Aryian had shown her not long ago. A great wind of focus blew, and the great many leaves of other thought withered and flew away. Soon, too, did the bulk of the tree seem to wither in upon itself, shrinking down into the other side of everything to return from whence it came. The field was quiet, serene. If it wasn't for the conscious flow of her own vital energy all that would remain was the crystal. Yet, those were the only two things that needed to remain. The crystal drifted ever so delicately from her palm to leave no points of contact. Only her own Force to hold and feel the crystal. Slowly Faux began to push the Force around and through the crystal. The flow was steady and, after a while, as naturally autonomous as the beat of her heart so that all she had to concentrate on was the crystal itself. There were several lines running through it that channeled the Force like branches of a tree. The lines had grown naturally over time as the crystal itself had grown. As time progressed, how quickly she couldn't be sure, shapes began to form in her mind’s eye. Segments of the crystal both large and small that could be cut away and not disturb the flow if energy in the surrounding clusters. There were many ways she could manage these cuts, but there would be only one chance to make them. In time, even this flow became unconscious with the rhythm of her being, and visions of her creation began to bloom. She saw the lightsaber in her hand, saw it sparked alive with her will. The blade drew breath with her in her daily practice, hummed alive as she moved her path between those who would do her harm. She would not seek conflict, but neither would she shy from it when events unfolded to demand action. She would help the galaxy where she could, even if the best way to help was to do nothing. Knowing when to act and when to do nothing was the most difficult wisdom to grasp, she knew, and one that would take a lifetime of practice to master. All she could really do was master herself and wait for those pivotal moments to come as they may. The meditation had drawn well into the afternoon. When she finally drifted back into the dojo and opened her eyes, she found the crystal in hand had gained a burnt orange hue, much like the setting suns on Tatooine. Faux smiled at the color, warmed by it knowing it couldn't have been any other color. Without lingering on her efforts she put the crystal in her pocket and headed for the kitchen. She had ignored the growling in her stomach throughout the meditation, but returned to the world it seemed more pressing than the creation of a lightsaber. While the bagged meal and rice was heating Faux went through her series of deep stretches to return her muscles to vibrancy. The long hours of stillness required for such meditation was never her favorite, much preferring moving meditation, but she could not ignore how much deeper she could go in stillness. Faux ate in silence, glad she had the forethought to pour the prepackaged stew over a bed of rice. It added a texture that was sorely lacking from the meat and vegetables that had been marinating in the bag for gods know how long. Maybe once things at the dojo settled down into a normal pace Aryian would take her up on her offer to cook for them. While she was remiss to spend any of his money, the benefit of buying good ingredients for good meals went beyond nourishing the body. A soul thrives on enjoying good food, and so long as it was in moderation why couldn't anyone enjoy such a simple pleasure? Well fed, attentions returned quickly to the task at hand. The sun was set now, so maybe her orders for the other components were done by now? Maybe she should take the crystal to Aryian for his own inspection? No… she knew very well that the crystal had come out just fine and that she was very thorough in inspecting the ley lines. Diverting her attention to seek his approval now would be like a little girl showing her parents the drawing she had made, so obviously wanting praise. She didn't require praise, but that didn't mean she didn't enjoy it. Plus, he had mentioned a project needed his own attention. It would be shallow of her to distract him for something so trivial when he had gone to such lengths to provide her the materials and solitude she needed to see to her own. Back in the workshop, Faux was glad to see the components she requested had been freshly machined and delivered to the workbench. First things first, however, she needed to get this crystal cut. There was a machine suited to do just that, luckily enough. How arduous would it have been if she had to laser cut the crystal by hand? She set the crystal in the ray field that suspended it firmly in the middle of a grid. Along the sides of the grid were several lasers on articulate pintle arms capable of any angle of cut. Before any cutting the machine would have to spend an hour or so scanning the crystal to make sure it had a perfect three dimensional map. While that worked, Faux moved to the box of parts she ordered by the Mechis droids to customize for her. Some of the parts would still require some assembly. The hilt casing was just as she ordered it. Entirely enclosed except for the small holes where the facets of Kyber crystal would inlay flush with the surface and where the emitter produced the blade. The fittings for the focusing lenses would set them not quite perpendicular to the hilt and set in revolving clasps. In a pair, the lenses would then be able to spin counter to one another, thinning and widening the blade as the plasma was either expanded or condensed. She started attaching the lenses to the settings so when it came time for construction she would just have to set them in place. Next was the emitter. Connecting the parts was fairly simple. The uniqueness of the part was how it fanned out to allow the blade to widen without expanding over the emitter and melting it. The magnetic ring was larger and given extra space to allot for the parts necessary to deliver more power. This extra power would compensate for the emitter changing the length of the blade rapidly and often. Faux went about assembling the pieces, adding the extra components where needed and checking them with the hilt casing. The added length she accounted for made up for the space required by the extra components. The machine beeped once, indicating it had completed its map of the crystal. Faux set the components down and turned to the display on the laser cutting machine. There were a few adjustments to be made, as the machine was looking for the best way to cut the crystal down as it was, and not aware of how she wanted all of the cut crystals to perform. Once adjusted she set the machine to start cutting and went back to the components. The machine would take another hour at least to make all the cuts, as the high capacity of a Kyber crystal would absorb and redirect a lot of power from the laser. A physical cutter would have been faster, but ran the risk of scuffing the surface or outright cracking it. At the pommel Faux connected the magnetic lead that would meet with the end of the songsteel staff she was also having made. Once connected, the lightsaber would become a lightstaff and let her keep all the practice at the staff in her arsenal. She had practiced it for so long and was really proficient at it. It felt a shame to let it all go to waste. Next she enshrouded the power cell in its insulating case and ran lines along the inside of the case that would connect with the exterior facets. As the smaller crystals were cut, Faux began fitting them into the outer casing, soldering them in and grinding away the excess to maintain a smooth finish. The machine cut the smaller ones faster than she was able to install them, so by the time was done the machine had completed cutting the internal crystals. Now all that was left was to assemble it all together. Just then she felt Aryian walk into the workshop. Faux turned with a tired smile only to see one of the droids carrying her staff fresh from the factory. It had an annealed core to give the staff a little flexibility with a tempered exterior sure to crush bone. It was a lot different from the wooden staffs she trained with back home. Heavier, but not nearly as heavy as it would have been if she just made it out of durasteel. It was a pretty simple design aside for the magnetic sleeve on one end where the lightsaber could be attached. The sleeve remained closed with an internally folding cap when it wasn't holding the lightsaber. This, more than the lightsaber, would likely be her primary form of self defense so long as the situation didn't call for deadly force. It was curious, though, why she felt Aryian. As she took the staff from the droid and thanked it, it held out its hand to give her a crystal, stating that Aryian had wanted her to use it. Was this where she felt him, in this tiny white crystal? Did her own crystal carry her presence the same way his did? And why give her the crystal at all? There were more than enough down here. It felt like a nice gesture. A little more personal than she would have thought, but one she would accept graciously. Well, now she had an extra Kyber crystal, twin to the one she would put in her lightsaber. It felt rash to just return it to the scattering of crystals on the shelf after she had invested so much of herself in it. And a little sad to think it would be all alone, given purpose and then discarded. Faux decided that wouldn't do, taking a bit of twine intended for wrapping a weapon handle and twisted it around the crystal, turning it into a necklace. Maybe down the road she would make another lightsaber, or something may happen to this one. Accepting the crystal with a bow, Faux returned to the workbench as the droid went about its business. All of the parts were ready, and she knew intimately where each of them went, their purpose, and their interactions with one another. She laid the parts out on the bench in an orderly fashion, wiggled around in the chair a moment until she found a comfortable spot, and closed her eyes and began her work once again. With each breath the room fell away. All the tools and machines. This project was everything in this moment. Eyes closed, the case opened up as other parts gathered in air. The mechanical pieces drifted together immediately, with the ease of their binary nature. So too did the two crystals slip into place, nestling neatly into their housing as the pieces came together as one. She was so tired, having spent more time today in concentrated effort than she probably ever had. But that little bit of Aryian was there with her whispering just a little further. Twisting the crystals in their housing, the alignment had to be just right. A little more for the primary, quarter turn on the secondary. This was the most nerve wracking part of the whole project. Holding all of these pieces in air was one thing, but to her they were already one thing, just with a bit of empty space between it. The hard part was holding the pieces while also pushing a little bit of the Force through not one, but both of the internal crystals at once to feel how energy flows through them. Just a little off and the whole thing could explode the moment she turned it on. If she had used both of her own crystals it would be much easier, since she had already spent so much time getting a feel for their conductivity, but using Aryian’s provided a whole new unknown element. Once she felt the crystals were in place, everything began to come together. Internal wires connected, parts clicked into place, and the casing folded neatly around it all. With a few more quiet clicks the internal locks screwed themselves in, and the lightsaber floated gently down into her hands. With a sigh, Faux released the pent up energy that had been welling up in her temples, and she opened her eyes. Without hesitating on the very real possibility of a destructive reckoning, she reached out in the Force one more time to the internal activation switch, and smiled wide as a bright orange light bathed the dimly lit workshop. The light felt warm, gentle with an underlying ferocity that matched the warrior she felt within herself. This weapon would be the at her side for a long time, a thought that stirred in her more apprehension than she anticipated. She let the blade extinguish as she stood up from the workbench. There would be plenty of time to show Aryian and play with it tomorrow. Now was the time for sleep.

The world returned in silent darkness, a few rapid blinks discerning between the two states of consciousness with the meager light of the rising sun carving through the blinds. As exhausted as she felt the night before her mind was incapable of sleeping beyond dawn, apparently regardless of what planet she found herself on. The bed was so soft and warm her sleepy muscles didn't want to move, but she knew the remedy. Throwing one leg over the side of the bed, Faux didn't fight as the rest of her body slid with it, dropping into stretches immediately. As each muscle pushed themselves to their limit, she went through the events of yesterday and the tasks she had to see to today. A light on the terminal told her she had new messages, most likely the results of her material procurement requests to Mechis’ factory droids. They would have to wait, because the first thing she saw to everyday was practice. Properly stretched, she went through her standard routine of calisthenics to maintain and build strength. Now, however, she had the added task of cultivating the Force as well as her body. She had always been able to meditate as she went about the routine, clearing her mind to be completely focused on each and every individual movement. The meditation now had an added layer to it, as the movement she paid attention to was no longer in the muscles themselves, but controlling the flow of the Force as it moved through her in conjunction with the movements. More than ever before, Faux felt vigorous, empowered through the sheer force of her will directing her abundant vital energy where she needed it most. After completing her daily, Faux washed away the sweat from her workout, though noticed she had sweat a great deal less than she normally did, as if her body didn't feel the same strain she was used to. After drying she changed into her own clothes, feeling a bit more like herself than those loose robes, and took a seat at the terminal. The list of materials and components available on Mechis was ready, but it wouldn't be of any use until she knew more about the inner workings of the lightsaber. Only when she understood the possibilities and limitations of the weapon could she decide on a design. Thus she began on what would be a four hour reading assignment into everything the dojo’s database had on lightsaber design and mechanics. Starting from the general working operation and working in toward specific operating parameters of specific parts, slowly the machine started to make sense. And that’s all it was, really, once you drop away the idea of a lightsaber strictly as a weapon. A machine with form and function like any other. The trickiest part, to her at least, was the implementation of the focusing crystals. From what she read, the types of crystals were numerous, each with unique properties that had effects ranging from meager to substantial outside of their primary function of transmuting electricity to plasma. The one constructing this machine needed the Force to feel how the energy would flow through the crystal and be able to adjust their positions appropriately. If not, rogue energy would reflect at odd angles within the lightsaber, melting and sabotaging important parts that weren't designed to take that much heat. If you were lucky, the lightsaber would just short out, giving you a nasty shock and leaving you with some funny hair for a few days. Most of the time the lightsaber would explode violently, taking life or limb from the errant mechanic. The rest of the parts seemed pretty common sense. A diatium power cell had a high capacity, and didn't wear out very quickly from the constant recharging from the cycling when the blade wasn't actively cutting. From there through the crystals to achieve plasma. It seemed the more crystals one had in a sequence stabilized the blade, but only one was necessary to achieve the conversion. And the more crystals a lightsaber had the more work would be required aligning them, as well as increasing the chance of misaligning them and blowing the whole thing. Once plasma is achieved it runs through at least one focusing lens to give the blade a shape, through an emitter that enshrouded the plasma in a magnetic containment field. This containment field both gave the blade a length and created a magnetic cycle that folded unused plasma back in on itself to return to the powercell through a series of energizers that converted the pasma back into electricity. The whole operation, when done properly, looked very elegant in idea and design. Without the recycling of the plasma the machine would require vastly more fuel to produce the heat and energy a lightsaber emits. This way, the only energy a lightsaber loses is the light produced by the blade, which is nearly unavoidable and pretty much negligible, and when the blade was actually transferring its heat into something else. Of the materials available Faux settled on Songsteel to make the hilt. It was tricky to work with, but it was the lightest of the lightsaber resistant materials she had to work with. She wasn't worried about the weight of the weapon, but rather the balance of it. With the hilt taking up less weight, Faux would better be able to distribute the weight throughout the hilt to combat the normal gyroscopic motion of a lightsaber. True, some techniques of lightsaber combat learn to utilize these movements to the user’s benefit, but Faux was more concerned with precision and speed than power. That gyroscopic motion could push or pull the blade off course, and the quicker she wanted to move the less time she would have to feel, react, and adjust to these micromovements. Another consideration was the width, length, and power level of the blade. Standard length and width was about a meter and three centimeters, but that didn’t feel right to her. Too static, too predictable. The reason she loved practicing with a long staff was the ability to change ranges quickly with a combination of good foot and arm work. Her ability to change attack vectors so quickly and strike from nearly any angle at any given moment had her as the monastery's top contestant since she was fourteen. She wanted to replicate that unpredictability in her lightsaber. That being said, she would need two custom focusing lenses and a few unique emitter parts. Being able to change these settings would require switches, but not switches that had set intervals. She instead wanted switches that worked like dials that could adjust the blade’s length and width anywhere between the parameters of the parts. Not a one, two, and three setting, but any fractional setting between the minimum and maximum. She also wanted to make these Force activated internal switches. While it would take longer for her to learn how to manipulate these switches back and forth with the Force amidst a battle, when she finally did master it the removed external switches would smooth out the handle for more grip space, prevent the buttons from being damaged and maybe deactivating or destroying the lightsaber, and make it more difficult for anyone else to use. So far, her design felt mechanically sound with a versatility that matched her own preferences, but it still didn't feel right. Maybe it was because thus far the designing was purely mechanical, but she knew there would be a point where she would have to invest more of herself into the project to make it really come out right. This wasn't some droid or blaster that just needed parts to work. A lightsaber was impossible to craft and incredibly difficult to use without the Force. She wouldn't just have to arrange some crystals just right to prevent it all from exploding. She needed to align the crystal with her very will, creating a focal point through which she could move the Force and the Force could move through her. This same alignment could be said with any weapon in the hands of a conscientious Force using martial artist, but a lightsaber was the only weapon where this alignment was a requirement. She considered her own skill and views of the Force, and how to best utilize and express that through this weapon. Her understanding was founded in the principles of energy; its flow and interactions, its many types and the transmutability of them all. Tutanamis, the Jedi called it, but to her it felt like natural law of the Universe. The very principles that bound all things. How could she add these ideas into her lightsaber? She went back to reading, cross referencing between the articles and the list of available materials. Nothing on the list rang out, but she noticed the crystals Aryian mentioned weren't on the list. Faux guessed the droids weren’t focused on the materials already in the Dojo. Faux stood from the terminal with a stretch, for the first time realizing she hadn't eaten yet today as her stomach growled at her. That was weird. She normally always ate breakfast after her workout? Was she too excited about this project, or did she still have an abundance of energy from the practice yesterday? She transferred her design from the terminal to her datapad and headed off to the kitchen. There wasn't much to select from, but at least there was dehydrated fruit. Faux nabbed a few packages and a bottle of water, tearing them open with her teeth and mindlessly pouring the contents into her mouth as she continued to read articles as she walked down to the workbench Aryian mentioned. It was just as he described it, everything she would need to build a lightsaber. If she was less inclined to augment her lightsaber beyond a standard lightsaber, she very well could make one with everything on the bench in front of her. To the left was a set of shelves with what she imagined to be crystals. Before walking over to the shelf Faux would have said that crystals were nothing more than shiney rocks that happened to catalyze energy in just the right way to produce plasma. But as she walked over to them, reaching out as she had been taught to get a feel for something, Faux paused and reeled for a moment, overwhelmed with what felt like a cascade of echoes reflecting her own sense of the Force back at her. These were not simple rocks. These crystals sang in the Force, twisting it in such a way to make pitches and hues. She somehow saw and heard them in the same sensation of the Force. Collecting her thoughts, Faux pulled back her senses for a moment to better narrow them, now trying to look at individual crystals rather than all of them at once. Even still, she found she had to actually physically pick up the crystal she wanted to examine to be able to get a feel for it without the surrounding crystals to chorus white noise in the background. One by one she picked them up and turned them over in her hands. They all felt lovely, each with a unique sensation but all cool and gentle. She went through all of them of lightsaber size on the shelves, but none of them really stood out. There was no discernable difference between any of them. There was one on the desk much larger than the others that caught her eye. It held no color and looked as if it had never been shaped or polished. Out of curiosity she picked the larger crystal up and immediately felt it growing warm to her touch. This wasn't a simple transfer of her own heat. The crystal itself felt as if it were producing its own heat. Faux pushed out with the Force, feeling very little resistance as her energy bounced around the facets. Even still, it was probably her own fumbling control of the Force that created the resistance and not the crystal itself. This was the first one that felt like it responded to her Force. Pulling out her datapad, Faux skimmed through the articles on crystals in an attempt to identify the crystal. It was translucent, so color would be no indicator. It eliminated a great many from the possibilities, but not enough. The scanner on her datapad wasn't good enough, but there appeared to be one on the bench. Resting the crystal in the clamps, the scanner went on autopilot and shot a range of lights through it at various angles. After a few moments the screen beeped back: Kyber. Narrowing in on the article, Faux began reading everything. Amazing... Simply amazing. This Kyber crystal concentrated energy in a unique way in the Force, and they seemed almost alive the way they were able to communicate or resonate with one another. Small cuts of this crystal would be perfect for the internal switches. And the crystal was capable of withstanding the temperatures and pressures found in the cores of stars, so it was extremely stable. Perhaps, if it were so good at conducting energy, she would be able to transfer energy from herself or another source through them, bypassing the powercell entirely and channeling through the primary crystal to either power or overpower the blade. The recycle would still apply, so this transfer of energy could also serve to recharge the powercell. The applications seemed useful, but would the crystals work the way she envisioned? The extra parts to lead the energy from the external crystals to the primary will take up extra space inside the hilt, and so will the internal switches and second focusing lens. Increasing the width of the casing would only weaken her grip, so making the hilt longer was the only way to go. This would also help her balance the weight better to counter the gyroscopic motion. What else, what else? She plugged the new plans into the schematics, letting the AI run the numbers. Mechanically, it was sound, but the programming had no way of anticipating how the Kyber crystals would transfer any energy she sent through it. The only thing to do was try it and hope it didn't blow up. She sent the schematics for the unique parts she would need to a nearby machine shop with all the tools needed to make them. Droids and AI would ensure the parts were seen to with exact precision, and Faux could assemble them once they arrived. The process will likely take the rest of the day and into the night, but that didn't matter. It would probably take longer than that to meditate on, cut, and align the kyber crystal.

A lightsaber?! The prospect was daunting, like everything else he had introduced her to, but a not so small part of her was extremely excited at the idea of tinkering again. A lightsaber was a far cry from the droids, moisture vaporators, and cooling units she built and repaired on a daily basis back home, but like most things mechanical so long as you understood the purpose of the parts and how they worked in conjunction with one another, you could learn to build anything you put your mind to. If anything, today's activities only proved to her how capable she was if she just trusted in herself and the Force. A short ride back to the dojo, and Aryian had already drawn up schematics for her, transfered them to her datapad, and listed off some methods for finding the materials required, even going so far as offering her a stipend to buy what materials she couldn't find on the planet. If she had any questions they woukd have to wait for later, as Aryian had quickly ushered himself away mentioning another project he had to see to. Whatever it was would have to remain a mystery for tomorrow, because right now all she could think about was her own project. Faux started looking over the schematics as she walked back to her room. Much of it didn't make sense yet, but she wasn't exactly used to lookig at actual schematics while working on things. Most of the time it was a bunch of trial and error pulling parts out one at a time until something looked broken. Once back in her room she set the terminal to do a broad search of lightsaber construction methods and materials while she took a shower. As excited as she was, it still wasn't enough to make her overlook the layer of sweat still drying on her robes. The shower was short, and once she was dry she slipped into her newly washed clothes. Finally out of those stuff robes. The search yielded a ton of results, just like before. It took another ten minutes of refining to get at the heart of what she was looking for. A breakdown of each part in a lightsaber and how they interact with one another. After reading for a while most of it made sense. It was just a fancy plasma torch that recycled power. That wasn't to say it wasn't impressive. Without knowing what she knew about the Force, a lightsaber would seem impractical compared to a blaster. But in the hands of someone trained in the Force a lightsaber could be more useful by far. The evening was drawing to a close with the setting sun, and Faux could feel the toll of today's training already sinking into her shoulders, weighing her down until she eventually gave up and gave in to sleep. If she was going to make the best use of her time, she was going to need help. Thankfully there were a fair number of droids networked between the dojo and accompanying factories surrounding. Before collapsing into bed for the night, Faux sent out a request to the salvage and inventory droids around Mechis for a broad selection of materials listed in the schematics. In the morning she would have time to read over the articles and select the best ones from whatever the droids managed to find. Batting her heavy eyelids a few times in eager protest to start on the new project, it wasn't long before sleep wrapped her snuggly in a dark, dreamless blanket.

Tearing open the pouch Faux's mind drifted to Aryian's question rather than the jerky she mindlessly munched. She certainly felt the excess of vitality he spoke of, but she didn't feel weary in the mind like she thought she theoretically should be. A life in the monestary made concentrated thought as natural as breathing. Focusing on one thing was not difficult. The difficulty lied in focusing on multiple things at once. Slipping into meditation was simple for her, but pulling energy out of one source, internalizing it, and redirecting it into a new, different application while simultaneously paying attention to an opponent? "I think..." She began, pausing to swallow her food before continuing the thought. "I know I can learn and do anything once I have an idea of the principles involved. But as far as using this knowledge in a combative setting, I feel like I need a lot of time practicing to increase my speed and endurance. I don't mean I intend to pick fights, or that these skills are only useful in a fight. I can easily see how I could learn to use the Force to fix things, build things, grow or heal things. But I am not so foolish as to ignore the fact that simply having this power will make me a target. I just need time to internalize all of this. Practice it until I can do it without thinking. Like... this knowledge exists outside of myself still. It isn't yet a part of my nature, so its still awkward, you know?"

Faux nodded silently as she listened, staring wide eyed at the current of heat swirl atop the surface of the crucible. Of course this was all in her head. Practically everything was, if she let her thoughts linger into the philosophical. But for the moment all she could think about was that time the monks brought in that man who had been stranded in the desert by the Hutts. Left without any water or even the shirt on his back, the poor man's skin had turned into one massive blister. Before she and Marcus could apply salves and bandages they had to remove all of the exposed skin, peeling it off in sheets as plasma leaked. Even with IV's, antibiotics, and bacta the poor soul didn't last the night. All of that suffering through exposure, what would this liquid metal do? She felt herself take a deep, sobering breath and came back to the moment. Bashfully she took a step further, slipping into the meditation with each measured breath. She found presence of mind oddly easily, fear and doubt melting away with each step closer as heat cascaded over her. It was just another form of energy, just in higher concentrations than what she was used to handling. And Aryian was right there with her, having just done well beyond what he was asking her to do. He knew what was possible, and felt that she was capable of learning the same. He trusted her to do this and she trusted him, despite knowing him for a little over a week. Calm and strangely collected she closed her eyes, letting everything fade away to feel everything else. Her own energy felt vibrant, flowing easily throughout the channels within. There seemed to be no knots, no weak points where she would hemorrhage or condensate. Another breath in and she could feel her lungs transmuting the essence of the world without her into something more like her. A breath out and she felt that same essence travel through the channels and mingle with the rest of her. This was in principle the same thing that Aryian was asking her to do, but in a method previously inconceived. As breathing continued Faux expanded, drawing the essence without in with the whole of herself. Every inch of her skin tingled as more energy than she had ever drawn swept through her channels, swelling resevoirs before the excess released. Almost unconsciously she stretched out her hand a few feet over the crucible. The heat didn't feel intense as she expected. It was more like a strong wind she had to lean into with her concentration to remain upright. Drawing in pulled the heat into her, transmuting it into her own vital energy, spilling out the excess before it caused any internal damage. Almost imperceptibly her hand lowered throughout the exercise. The intensity of the heat grew, but in her detatched rhythm the difficulty wasn't so much the drawing in the energy but expelling it quickly enough. Her vessels simply weren't expansive enough to contain this much energy. After quite a while Faux finally opened her eyes, seeing her hand hovering just above the surface of the liquid metal. She exhaled a final time, pulling her hand back and turning it over. No blisters, not even the redness of a sunburn. Her mouth felt dry, and she understood why as she noticed how drenchedin sweat she was. "That was...exhausting." She beamed a wide smile, but the look on her face said nothing but tired. Without thinking she outstretched her hand toward her pack, summoning her water bottle and took a few small sips. She wanted more, but a life in the desert teaches one how to control thirst. It was only after her throat returned to normal that she realized just how easily she had levitated the bottle. Maybe it was the long time she just spent in meditation, or maybe the excess energy she was still bleeding out?

Oh the way out Faux matched her teacher's silence, taking the time to get a better look at Mechis III than what her arrival yesterday had given her. The downward descent gave only a small view compared to the long panaramic of this trip, even if it were just a few minutes long. Much of the land itself wasn't much to look at, mostly barren rock, but sprinkled about on plateaus and between crevices were many factories for what she didn't know. Without much to speak for with regards for the planet's capability to produce its own food, trade through production would be the only way people could survive here. But then, where there any other people here? She hadn't seen anyone else, and perhaps all those factories were entirely machine operated? As they got the the facility and Aryian wasted no time getting into the lesson, Faux perked up as he mentioned the Force in regards to energy. In her mind, a universal energy is how she made sense of the Force, even if it were something much more obscure than that. Speaking of the body as a conduit made even more sense, as she already viewed it as such with its several channels and resevoirs. A lifetime of learning to control, enhance, and direct her vital energy told her this would be a lesson she could easily grasp. That was...until a massive crucible of molten metal glided by their platform and came to a slow halt. Her eyes grew wide as she watched Aryian take off his shoes, darting back and forth between him and the bright, glowing yellow pool. Her mind raced through her memorized chart of the periodic table, guessing at the temperature of the metal into which Aryian was about to dive. Regardless of the metal, the contents of the vat were likely well over a few thousand degrees to keep the metal in a liquid, light emitting state. He isn't going to...no way. She didn't move a muscle as Aryian took his first step, expecting him to plop right to the bottom and become completely emursed in the molten metal before reason offered her up density as an explaination as to why he was able to stay afloat. The liquid below his feet cooled from the bright yellow slowly to orange, and as he maintained his display even further to a darker orange. Faux broke out of the awe to collect herself, gathering her attention not to the spectacle of Aryian's daring but to what was actually happening in the Force. As the metal made contact with the flesh the heat transfered as it naturally would, but instead of simply gathering at the point of contact, Aryian was able to draw it into the natural flow of his own vital energy. Further, as the metal cooled ever so slightly beneath his feet Faux was able to sense his own vital energy becoming more vibrant, fuller, though she could somehow tell that he was no where near his capacity. Even this phenominal act that would have seemed impossible to her was on the mere precipice of her teacher's understanding. If he was willing, Aryian could have likely stood upon that pool until it came to room temperature, drawing and diffusing the heat into himself to use as he saw fit. As he climbed down from the vat Faux let her thoughts loose to the implications of what she had just witnessed. With these new principles, all mannerisms of energy could be drawn in and transmuted into the same energy we use for normal living function if one were skilled enough in the Force. That being said, the opposite could also be theoretically true. A person's own energy could be used to create electricity and power devices, or heat or light, or even possibly sound. And maybe this practice of energy absorbtion could work even when there isnt an abundance of energy, for instance to remove heat from an area to cool it. Her mind was ablaze with theoretical application. So much so that as Aryian asked if she wanted to attempt the exercise, she had to stare at him blankly for a moment and recall the question before responding. "Do I have to make contact with it to start off? Maybe if I just hold my hand over the pool I can get a feel for it first."

Take a baf? Faux nodded an ackowledgment, but walked away with a bewildered look. She didn't really have any extra clothes, though she supposed the drawer in her room had more sets of what she changed into this morning. It was a pretty plain outfit that covered more than she prefered, but it did its job well enough. Packing in her room she considered Aryian's advice. He spoke of the training she wanted to take years like he was warning her that it wouldn't be quick or easy, but that prospect wasn't any different than the lifelong pursuit of maintaining physical fitness and mental willpower. She had already known from the very moment that he had guided her into the greater everything that was the Force that this was going to be a lifelong effort. Maybe the warning came from others wanting a quick and easy path of power without devoting the energy to it. According to the monks a vast majority of the galaxy new very little about self discipline. She slipped back to the kitchen to pack a couple of the premade meals into the sachel, already having a rudimentary first aid kit and simple multitool. Along with the clothes the satchel was quite full with little room for much else. Faux headed to the landing pad, not forgetting to clip her training saber to her belt and her little training remote into her pocket. No idea what a baf was, but she had enough if the basics packed she should be relatively prepared. "So what's the plan?"

It was curious that Aryian said her entire life and training mirrored that of the Jedi. She had no reason to think of it before hand, but was it possible the monks were connected to the Jedi in some fashion? It didn't feel likely, since there was never any mention of them and no one back home held any command of the Force, at least not nearly to the degree Aryian did. Also curious was how he mentioned part of her philosophy spoke of similar Sith values. What else did they believe that fit within her model of existance? And what path did she want to take? To Faux the question seemed almost paradoxical. She knew that if she were to survive in this wide, new galaxy that had been shown to her full of Masters of the Force such as Aryian, it would require her gain some notable measure of skill. Any area of study she excluded based on some premise of right and wrong, strong or weak, would inevitably become a hole in her understanding of the Force that could blind her to danger or lead her to make decisions based on a lack of evidence. While she needed power to resist that of others, she didn't want it for the sake of itself. She wanted to be free to make her own choices, but didn't want it to necessarily come at the cost of others if it could be avoided. The path of the Sith seemed romantic in theory but callous and self destructive in its execution. And while she did want to nurture life, as Aryian put it, she realized that sometimes things had to break for them to allow them to change into something new. Blindly serving life allows sickness to fester and ends up destroying more life than simply cutting out the cancer would have done. Faux didn't want to be presumptuous in saying that she was not worried about the seductive nature of power for power's sake that plagues the Sith, but the root of all Force use was willpower. So long as she maintained the notions of self control and moderation, why couldn't she avoid the pitfalls? "I want to study everything. No knowledge is truly exclusive from any other, and by avoiding one aspect all others will suffer for it."

Faux couldn't help but smile warmly and blush a little. Was it natural talent or her upbringing in a place devoid of distractions that had let her focus entirely on training? "Yeah, I was raised in a monastery. Every waking hour was devoted to training or chores, both of which had to be done with a meditative mind." She stood from the table, gathering whatever utensils their were to be washed and removing recyclables to their designated recepticle. She didn't want to fall into the old monologues she had heard a thousand times over from the monks, but she also thought it was important for her teacher to understand her on a deeper level to better know how to instruct her. Faux passed on the caff, opting for the simpler and more hydrating water. "I was taught to keep my attention entirely on the task at hand. Physical training was equally mental, as every movement had to hold a conscious intention. The repetition of tasks builds not only a physical memory in the muscle but a neural memory in the pathways within the brain. The idea was to practice until the techniques became part of one's nature, eventually removing the need for conscious thought. This is how we learn to not only master ourselves but also consciously direct the change that life demands." Turning back to Aryian, she felt slightly embarrassed at what felt like a mindless repetition of the rhetoric that had been drilled into her since she was old enough to listen. But she knew better than the embarrasment, knowing this philosophy to be at the core of who she was. It was a simple idea difficult to grasp in its entirety, but she had no doubt one such as Aryian, who had spent his life studying the Force, would could hold it well enough. "Change is the only universal truth." She said with the finality only those without doubt could muster. "Nothing is permenant." With a resigned sigh, she finished cleaning the dining area. Maybe he had more questions, which she woukd happily answer, or maybe her words sated his curiosity for the time being. Nevertheless, Faux couldn't help but wonder if she were somehow preternaturally gifted with the Force itself and her previous training just seemed to facilitate that even further. If so, her abandonment as an infant would seem almost serendipitous now knowing it would lead her to this place and time, under the tutelage of this particular man.

This place has beds?! She was somehow simultaneously excited at the notion of sleeping in a real bed for once and admonished for how excited she was. It is a comfort, the monks had always explained, not a necessity. Growing up she never felt neglected by a lack of one, more curious than anything what sleeping on anything but stone was like. She had fallen asleep on sand dunes before, when the suns were just right that a good eclipse of a dune could provide a reliably long shadow, and often imagined beds being much like big sandbags. Now she could finally try one for herself. After Aryian took his leave for the evening, Faux followed the terminal's instructions down a wing off of the main hall. There were a dozen or so smaller rooms, and a couple marked suites that appeared much larger on the diagram that she assumed were for special guests of the dojo. Faux opened the first of the smaller rooms closest to the main hall. The dorm room had very little, a single bed, a desk and chair with a single glowlight, and a small drawer for spare clothes. She liked it, finally able to claim a space for herself, even one so small and spartan. With no posessions to speak of, Faux left her room for the moment to find a sonic shower. The terminal directed her to the communal baths for the dorm area, but it didn't have a sonic shower. This area used water showers. Again she smiled wide and felt a little ashamed for it. On Tatooine all she had ever seen were sonics, but had heard some of the monks recall water showers with great fondness and longing. An hour later Faux emurged very pruny and red, but it had felt like all the heaviness of her travels since leaving the monestary melted off her and washed away down the drain. First stepping out she felt a little light headed at first, but the cool air outside the shower on her faceand in her lungs felt sobering. It was the cleanest she had ever felt, far beyond anything a sonic shower could accomplish. Back in the room she wasted little time drying before collapsing without protest into the bed, giggling a little as she bounced a little with the landing. With a yawn and a stretch Faux rolled around, tryimg to find just the right spot to curl up and die for the next six hours, probably seven if the sunlight didn't find that exact angle to pierce her eyelids. Her mind grew quiet and her breathing fell into a slow rhythm, but sleep just wouldn't come for her. Tossing and turning, covers on, off, and half off and on, nothing felt right. The damn thing was too soft. Pulling the pillow and cover from the bed, Faux made a small spot right next to the bed and didn't remember falling asleep. Only the cold, hard floor felt right. When she woke in the morning Faux slipped into her morning routine without thought, combining stretches and calisthenics to get her muscles ready and blood flowing. Getting dressed was next, but she had left her dirty clothes in the basket in the bath room. She could put them on again, but after finally getting clean the idea seemed counterintuitive. After rummaging around the dresser she managed to find a simple set of white pants and shirt that fit well enough, if a little loose. "Good morning." Joining Aryian for breakfast, Faux eyed the eggs questioningly before going about eating them. She had yet to spy a bird from which eggs could be acquired. "I don't want to sound ungrateful for the food or presumptuous of your circumstances, but I would be happy to see to cooking as part of my chores." If as to almost prove she was grateful for the food he provided she took her seat across from him and started eating the eggs without hesitating, though clearly these were false eggs ment to create the illusion of real food.

Faux accepted the snack with a warm smile, silently nibbling as she fell further into thought. People were just people, regardless of contact with the universally connecting metaphysical or not. She strained to understand how such a thing couldn't touch the hearts and minds of those that felt it, but she supposed it just came down to her own upbringing and internal wiring. Yet, at the same time she understood that it was down to an individual's sense of purpose and will that derived one's method and capacity for manifesting the Force. Across the galaxy, all mannerisms of reasoning could be utilized to draw on such ability. No matter how much she or anyone else may think that their purpose or technique is the correct one, all stood equally valid as a means to an end. Now the collection of statues in the main hall made a little more sense. While the individuals may have come from different Orders and wielded the Force in different manners, their praise was for their capacity to wield the Force, not how. Aryian really did believe that there was no correct method, and seemed to honor any who could master the Force to such a degree. He reminded her a lot of Marcus, her brother monk, who oversaw the majority of her studies growing up. He always said their is no harm in knowledge, only how it is used. Study everything, then use your own sense of reason to sort the truth from the useless fluff. She reached for another dried fruit, passively delighting in it's citrus tang, when to her surprise and dismay she found the bag empty. How long had she wandered away in thought staring out into the rapidly encroaching night? "Well, I hope you're right and the Force has means to balance itself out. But, we are as much a part of the Force as anything else. Who's to say we aren't part of the balancing act?" She stood up from her spot on the window seal, raising her arms high as she stretched up all the way onto the tips of her toes and fell back with a yawn. "If you don't mind, I'd like to call it a night. Is there anywhere particular you prefer I sleep or is right here alright?"

She felt him before she heard him, but he was already so close to her Faux dismissed the tingling feeling as a fluke and not a real triumph. Maybe if she had sensed him approaching outside the halls or further it would have been something to celebrate. Either way, she was making progress in keeping that outward sense alive while her mind was focused on something else. It was still so very faint for now, but like every muscle it just needed exercised to grow stronger. "Oodles." She said just as dryly, breaking away from the datapad. It seemed like Aryian had patched up his right arm a bit, but it still looked like he held it stiffly. "I am just reading up on different things possible with the Force. Knowing something is possible makes the attempt of replication so much more reasonable to a mind making the effort." Tapping the screen away, she stood up from the window and stretched, replacing the datapad in the pouch at the small of her back. "There are a lot of different uses for the Force. Many of the applications stem from being aware of them in the first place to simply recognize the existence. Without that knowledge, the sense you receive would feel like white noise, or appear as another, more familiar thing entirely. Knowing the sciences helps differentiate between some things, but much of it comes from sheer practice and mastery of each minute detail you experience." She smiled, hoping that her interpretation of the several articles she had skimmed through over the last hour or so made a sort of sense. At least, that was how her mind had sorted through all the accounts of Force application on the self. She had only stayed within the first category for now, as manipulating other living things or the environment seemed a tad grandiose for one just stepping on this greater path. "From what I've read, the Force can do some great and terrible things. How can people handle such a thing without exploiting it? It would be one thing if everyone was capable of studying it, but from what I gather only a very, very small percent of people are even capable of sensing the Force, let alone weilding it to any measurable degree. Surely some would collapse under the weight of that responsibility."

I did feel it, she thought to herself as she rolled the little training remote in her right hand. It seemed so mysterious, the vast multitude of things this Force applied to and the many ways it integrated into the world and people around her. The possibilities, much like the expansive universe Aryian had showed her, felt endless. While she was certainly curious about her instructor, Faux's default state when she felt out of her depth was to resort to training. She could follow him to the med bay and ask more about him, or she could look around for more training equipment and get some default conditioning out of the way. Neither set right with her, insted finding her way to the nearest terminal to get a look at the Dojo's archives. Query: Application of The Force Searching... Results Found: 30,583 files Kriff. Way too many. Narrow Search: Categorize By Type Parsing... ERROR: 'Type' does not narrow parameters. Please clarify. Narrow Search: Categorize by Application Parsing... ERROR: Application subjective. Please clarify. Narrow Search: Categorize by what is effected by application. Parsing... Results Found: 5 Categories, with 147 Sub-Categories Some results may apply to multiple categories. Categories: Self Application Other Living Application Environmental Application Mechanical Application Metaphysical Application She sighed heavily as the terminal did its work, saving the search parameters to both the network and her personal datapad to make it easier for future use. The first three categories made immediate sense, as she had already glimpsed them in fraction first hand, but her mind had to stretch quite a bit to try to imagine how the Force could be applied to machines. And she had no idea what the category of 'Metaphysical Application' even meant. Could it be a purely theoretical category, or were there somehow first hand accounts of manipulating time and space somewhere within this massive cluster of files. Hopefully as her studies continued she would better understand what she was looking at and know how to refine the search to better suit her curiosity. For now, however, she was simply glad to know that there was a vast archive of information at hand for her to look to when Aryian was otherwise preoccupied. There were too many files to save to her personal datapad outright, but so long as she remained at the Dojo they remained on the network for her to peruse through at her leisure. Afternoon was setting in on Mechis, and Faux had always loved the oranges and reds of the setting sun too much to waste them away inside. She walked the halls for a bit, eyeing each room on the west sde of the Dojo's main hall for the best place to sit down and rest with her new library's worth of reading material. Settling on a rather plain room, Faux walked past most of it while her attention was glued to the screen of her datapad, already absorbed in its depths, and perched herself in a window, half in half out. Aryian's words hadn't fallen on deaf ears earlier. Faux knew all too well how important it was to believe in yourself. The spirit empowers the mind, which controls the body. Meanwhile, the body collects, builds, and supplies vital energy to the mind and spirit. None take precident over the others because there really is no line between them. The are a part of the whole, and where one suffers all suffers. Knowing she was capable was one thing, but if she knew what was even possible to begin with it would make the attempt of such things much more plausible. If she held no doubt to her own capabilities, and removed any doubt as to what is or is not possible, then her mind would have no barricades proceeding forward with her attempts. All that would be left is to practice, and practice she knew without doubt worked every time. The Force is inseperable from the self. Once aware of it, it becomes akin to another sense for the mind to interpret much like the five that the body provide. Really it is more like several dozen senses all tied into one source, each needing to be developed and honed as keenly as any other. It can tell you the truth of other's words and thoughts, even warning you of their intentions before even they are aware of them. It could tell you of the presence of things well beyond the mundane sense. It can even sharpen the five to heights well beyond what nature provides...

Eyes open, Faux paradoxically found the familiar sense distracting. The flow of the Force between them had seemed like all she could manage to pay attention to as her body moved reflexively to the ebb and flow of what she was feeling. Now trying to see while seeing in another sense felt like trying to eavesdrop in a crowd. Not wanting to struggle with the conflicting view, her eyes slipped into the unfocused form of peripherial vision, dialating to take in the whole of her field rather than any particular thing. To anyone not accustomed to the practice it would seem like Faux's attention was a thousand miles away, but that couldn't be further from the truth. She tried to listen to Aryian as he described the form she picked, but that, too, seemed to fall away to the periphery as her mind clung to that tenuous grasp of the Force she clung to so preciously. Already she began to feel that the very same senses she had honed her entire life were little more than distractions. That little glimpse of everything Aryian had escorted her toward had eclipsed everything she had ever known, trivializing truths as mere pieces of the greater puzzle. To and fro she danced at Aryian's pace, blocking where she felt comfortable and stepping away when the combination seemed to fast or unpredictable. Aryian seemed to almost bend or extend himself for a moment, bt Faux lost it in the sparring. Block, parry, it all felt so reminiscent of her childhood, so simple and... "Holy frakking hell!" As she went to block on her right, Aryian pulled back at the last second and warning bells lit her mind like a traffic sign. Before she could parse the signal out her right side seared for a split second and immediately went numb. To her credit, she didn't drop the lightsaber to cover the faux wound, but her thumb slipped off of the trigger plate, extinguishing her lightsaber, and she took a couple steps back. Her vision found focus as her eyes searched for the source of the sting. A single, cute little remote quietly hummed into view, and Faux shot Aryian an incredulous look. "Day one and you taze me. Wonderful."