Carida. A planet with what many would consider a boring history, for it was not the planet itself that was spectacular; rather, it was what the planet produced. It was an Imperial world, home to what was arguably the greatest military academy in the galaxy. And it was very heavily guarded.

None of that mattered to the occupants of the shuttle that emerged from hyperspace some distance outside the planet's sensor range. It was unlikely that such a small vessel would be noticed. And, with any luck, it would be gone before they could investigate.

Mira sat in the cockpit. She had brought the shuttle out of hyperspace prematurely, intending to stay away from the massive Imperial ships that could blast them into oblivion with a twitch of the finger. If she was going to die, it was going to be in hand-to-hand combat, not at the whim of a nervous Imperial gunner.

Ever since their last discussion, Mira had not spoken to Ithron. He had become too much of an enigma, and that made him dangerous. Very dangerous. It had taken work, but she had spent most of the short ride with her mind closed, allowing very little to slip through her containment. It was unlikely that he would be able to read her intentions.

The other apprentice was in his chambers at the moment. Sleeping or meditating, Mira didn't know which. It didn't matter much, though, so long as he remained where he was for a few minutes longer. Which, undoubtedly, he would. Something had happened on Coruscant that left the Sith apprentice so self-absorbed that he didn't care for anything else. It was this trait that led her to believe that he probably didn't care to see Carida. So she put the next part of her plot into action.

Quickly accessing the ship's comm system, she entered in the private comm channel of Perrin Descartes. He wasn't available, so she left a holo message. For a moment, she wondered about the form of address - he was a Sith Knight, not a Master. Yet for her purposes, Master would be appropriate. Though she doubted he cared much about titles. "Master Descartes," she began, "as you may know, I have been sent with another apprentice, Ithron, on a mission to Korriban, the nature of which is as of yet uncertain. However, I am beginning to suspect treachery from my companion. I have no doubts that he will eventually turn on me in order to further his own power. I have begun preparing for this encounter, and though I recognize that he has more raw power than me, I am confident that I have the cunning to destroy him. However, I am transmitting the records of a conversation that took place on our shuttle between he and I. Should I fall, I wish the record to be clear on where both Ithron and his new Master stand. Should I fall, he will fall with me." With that, she pushed the computer chip she had stolen into the transmitter and sent it. Moments later, it was done.

She repeated the same procedure, and nearly the same message, once more, this time sending it to Master Jas. Should she fail, they would strike the apprentice down when he returned to Xa Fel. Should one of them fail, the other would succeed. Confident of her success, she began plotting a course along the Daragon Trail that would take them non-stop to their destination.

As she worked, she felt Ithron stir. He was coming forward. She quickly hid the chip in a pouch on her belt, then turned as the cockpit door opened. Ithron stepped to the viewport, then said, "Why did we stop so far out?"

Mira glanced at him, then back down at her calculations. "I assumed that you, like me, didn't want to become atomized by a nervous Imperial gunner's turbolasers."

Ithron chuckled. "I suppose that is true." He left it at that, though Mira was sure that he was thinking that he wouldn't mind her being atomized. It would save him the trouble. Well, she thought to herself, the feeling's mutual.

"Alright, calculations complete," she said aloud. "Next stop, Korriban." With that, she pushed the levers forward, and the stars once again turned to blue and white streaks.

[font=Tahoma]Sith Temple, Coruscant[/font]
[font=Tahoma]The evening prior[/font]

[font=Tahoma]Sleep was something to dream about, in an ironic way. There was that strange feeling that came in sleep, that could make one feel refreshed and energized; one that was present in meditaiton, though not as pronounced. Still, meditation was--in a sense that the initiate still didn't understand or enjoy--the far safer alternative. At least, when she was meditating, the nightmares of her childhood didn't bother her.[/font]

[font=Tahoma]Still, there was something new to the feeling this time...something sinister. For just a brief second, part of her worried that it was another bout with the demons in her mind, their efforts geared towards corrupting her in her last safe haven, and destroying her soul. Not that there was really much left of it for them to ruin, truth be told... She'd already given herself almost completely to the Dark Side; the coming trip to Korriban would seal that eternally.[/font]

[font=Tahoma]Then it hit her: that was the new feeling...the Dark Side. It was strong, especially in this temple, and she could feel it manifesting itself inside her, growing, as if preparing itself for the task that was soon to come. There was nothing to worry about from the darkness, as far as she could fathom. With that in her thoughts, she gave herself fully to the new evil flowing within her[/font]

[font=Tahoma]It was a blissful release.[/font]

[font=Tahoma]Sith Temple, Coruscant[/font]
[font=Tahoma]Present[/font]

[font=Tahoma]Considering how many people were in attendance--all at least in-tune with the Dark Side--, and how strong the Dark Side was in the room, it was a personal victory for the young woman that she wasn't swept up in the flow of chaos right as she entered. The magnitude of evil present in the room served to remind her of only one thing... Precisely what they were here for.[/font]

[font=Tahoma]Darkness begot power; it was as simple as that. Where one served order, one was bound to follow it, and to exercise power only when instructed. One had to surrender power at the end of its usefulness, and could not grow freely. To the contrary, where one served one's own self... Power was free to take. Power was unlimited.[/font]

[font=Tahoma]But there was also the old axiom: Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. This was always true; those who had complete power had no fear of the ramifications of their actions, and felt themselves immune to any damages they could receive. This leads to corruption, pure and simple. And is corruption truly what I want to deal with? At that note...I'm there already, am I not?[/font]

[font=Tahoma]And so, in her mind, there spawned the battle between the corruptiveness of total power, and the strength that it provided. Beyond that argument, which threatened to flare up into a torrential storm, she was ready and focused, and stood in the assembly with her hands clasped together behind her back, waiting for either further address from someone else in the meeting, or the order to board the shuttle.[/font]

A wave of relief washed over the travelers, as they rocketed into space, leaving the city planet behind in their wake. Though their stay on the congested world was brief, it couldn't have been short enough for Marek. Over the course of his life thus far, Coruscant had always been a place of malcontent for him, mainly because of his many brushes with death. Namely those instances, which involved him taking, part of some illegal operation that was destined for failure to begin with, his old life.

Reflecting on those memories, it had taken him this long to realize just how truly lucky he had been to survive the aforementioned ordeals, and just how fortunate he was to have been taken in by the Jedi Order, who rather than turning him away for his previous misconduct, accepted him into their graces with open arms.

It was a favor he hadn't returned. The Order saved his life and when it faltered and needed him most, he turned his back on it.

With his head tilted against the head rest of his seat and just as his eyes began to close, a sigh of relief escaped from Marek's lips. It felt good to be useful again, for so long he had wandered about without purpose, living vicariously off the achievements and exploits of others and now he was apart of something he could actually claim responsibility for.

However with that, came a very steep price to pay. Technically speaking, he was the most experienced of the group, not to mention the oldest, their lives, though there by no choice but their own, were still in his care, whether they expected it or not.

Reflected back to his first meeting with his Master, he remembered the question that was posed.

"Tell me, if you will, what brought you here and why?" his master asked.

"I've grown weary of the existence I once called life. I've been apart of too many shady operations, I've witnessed far too many atrocities, in which I let indifference over-shadow the need for sympathy, for compassion, for justice. Too many times have I let selfish gain control my destiny. I'm here because all of that has left a void in my life and in my soul. I want to make right that which has gone wrong, I want to reestablish a balance, and I want peace. I'm not a violent man at heart, but I have killed, I know what it's like to take a life. Believe me, nothing would be better than to erase those memories from my mind, I would love nothing more then to erase all the faces I see in my dreams, but I can't. So, I've come here searching for the means to make amends with my deeds, to silence the ghosts that haunt my thoughts."

Irony is quite a thing.

The Xa Fel sun beat down on the jungle far above, filling the air with a deep humidity that caused the robes of the Apprentices to become uncomfortable and encumbering. Of the disciples that sat, waiting patiently, only a select few were able to contain their confusion as to the sudden summoning at the hands of Master Jas. Following the disappearance of Jo’ren, the student who had ventured into the temple to remind the Sith Master of the Apprentice’s collective training session, there had been only a message sent and an order given: remain in the training area until told otherwise.

Even then, some Apprentices had been told to congregate elsewhere; which caused some concern for those who were told to stay in place.

“What do you think this is all about?” Said Matra, the middle-aged Twi’lek with a reddish hue, as he looked to his fellow Sith. “I wonder if there’s another training session planned… you know, where we verse another group of Apprentices?”

But, despite the possibility of a surprise session, Xykarn couldn’t quell the feeling that something wasn’t quite right. The young human couldn’t shake the sense that something had changed; and he had even felt a disturbance in the Force shortly after Jo’ren departed.

“Who knows,” Xykarn replied, shrugging his shoulders as he continued to watch the temple just across the plain absently. “Might be a session, might not be… with the way things have been in the temple recently, who can say?”

“Looks like Master Jas is coming,” One of the other Apprentices stirred, the female looking toward the entrance of the building not far from where the dozen waited. Motioning with one hand, she pushed to her feet. “And he doesn’t look very happy…”

“When does he ever look happy?” Matra added quickly, bringing a chuckle from a few of the Apprentices, but also just as many scowls from the remainder. Some didn’t appreciate the jokes the Twi’lek made, especially when they were aimed at the leaders of the Sith Order; and ultimately those who taught them, and disposed of them if they saw fit. “Ah well, guess we better fall into line…”

The Apprentices stood in unison, moving like a single collective that made Vance grimace on the inside. He thought back to how he had witnessed the betrayal of one of his prized pupils, and how Lupercus had fed the boy his beliefs on the supremacy of two; and the advantages it had, as opposed to an army of Sith running about like crazed maniacs with all the power of the galaxy.

Beliefs I have shared for so long, but have forgone just to allow these pitiful lackeys their chance to become nothing more than a hollowed shell of Sith, The Sith Master thought bitterly to himself, feeling a vile taste rising in his mouth with the disdain that he felt toward those before him. He had been limiting himself, while his apparent enemies had been growing ever stronger around him.

It was a situation Vance would no longer allow.

And even as the Sith Master came to stand before the gathering, looking over the students with a cynical eye, Xykarn couldn’t help but realize that things were about to get very bad. The Force was, almost literally, screaming at him to get out of there; to slip away from Master Jas’ notice before that final moment that was akin to the center of a deadly Tatooine sand swirl…

I have a bad feeling about this, The young Apprentice thought to himself, his eyebrows creasing with worry as he watched Master Jas walk casually along the line of Apprentices. He was evaluating them, eyeing each up and determining something in his mind… Xykarn knew it. He could sense it.

“Stop it, Xy,” Said Matra in a low voice, letting out the words in a harsh hiss. “You’re sweating and stinking up the air with your uneasiness. Just settle down, I’m sure we’ll know what’s happening soon enough.”

Vance turned, his eyes narrowing as he found the source of the voice behind him. “You wish to know what is happening?” The Sith Master said, his coarse whisper causing the Apprentices to strain their ears to heed his words. “Then, by all means, we shall see as to what is happening…”

The snap-hiss of Vance’s lightsaber was like a burst of thunder in the deathly silence, and the blue blade began to hum violently as the wielder twisted the weapon in hand and sliced into the closest Apprentice. The female fell, without having the time to even react, let alone blink in surprise, and toppled to the grass-covered ground with a distinct double thud.

The Apprentices didn’t know what to do, and they began to rush in separate directions, seeking to escape the lightsaber that had so calmly struck down one of their own. Matra was the next to fall to the azure blade, his scream echoing through the training area, spurring the other students to increase their own efforts for survival. Of the dozen that had been, within a matter of moments more than half littered the earth; their faces held in an eternal state of pain and surprise.

Xykarn ran as fast as his boots would allow, the young human cursing the robes he wore as he almost found himself tangled in their length for the second time. He had darted away, toward the jungle tree line, while others had gone in various other directions. Some didn’t even make it beyond where they had stood, and the vision of Matra’s death was more than crystal clear in the student’s mind. He heard the whirring of Master Jas’ lightsaber, the insanity that had surely taken over the man, as he cut down another of his Sith order.

What is this madness? Why is he doing this? Xykarn thought, his mind abuzz with so many thought processes that he didn’t know where to start. All he knew, was that he had to get away…

Vance reached out his hand, grasping with the Force for one of the pitiful drains on himself, one of the leeches that he had finally decided to burn from his body, to be rid of; and with an effort, he crushed the adolescent, feeling a deep sense of finality with the Apprentice’s death, a kindling of the power he had once touched when he had been exiled… there he had been responsible for none, and he hadn’t been forced to allocate his source of power between so many.

Potent had been the sensation. Raw, unadulterated, limitless… and it was once again his, with but a simple vision of the past that had finally been like the last droplet of water that broke the stone of ignorance. Only now, when he wholly realized what he was truly forsaking, did Vance understand the rule of two; or, in this case, the sheer dwindling required of so many. And in much the way of the ancient Sith purge under the hand of Bane, so to did Vance bring his wrath down upon those who sought to bring the Sith down to such a low level…

He was tired of pretending that power came through unity; he was tired of pretending that the Apprentices would amount to more as a collective, than one could as a single powerful entity. Yet, by the same deduction of potential ceasing of the Sith if he died with no successor, so did Vance understand that only the worthy would remain… he would allow those who he had decided proved the most capable to continue along the path of the Sith. Though, instead of rewarding the group, it would be a matter of pride for the individual; fellow Sith brothers would be united, surely, but not in anything except ideal.

Deactivating his lightsaber, Vance turned his head to look upward. His eyes passed beyond the dark clouds forming, beyond the atmosphere, beyond the light years that were between he and his source of attention…

Ithron, The Sith Master soothed, his voice unnaturally calm following the wanton destruction that had reignited the fuel of desire for power within him. You had best learn Lupercus’ lessons well…

Turning, Vance began to stalk toward the remaining students, numbering but half a dozen, who had gathered in another section of the temple grounds. They, unlike those who had been slaughtered, were to be selected as the select few worthy of continuing down the path of self-elevation within the Sith Order; but while their dead comrades now knew peace, so to would those that remained know pain unlike any they had felt before…

It didn’t go without Vance’s notice that a young man, Xykarn, had decided to follow him at a distance, seeing what the Master would do next. And as Vance came to a stop before the small number of students, he glanced toward the jungle, where the Apprentice waited; to which he was quick enough to rush into the clearing, joining his fellow Sith brothers promptly and without question.

“Today begins a new legacy of the Sith Order,” Vance said, his voice low as he stared into the souls of each Apprentice present. They showed mixed emotions, ranging from fear, to pride, to confusion; but in the end, it mattered not. As long as one was deemed worthy, that was all that mattered. “You are all that remains of the scraps of the Dark Side we had once been accustomed to. No longer will we dilute power with those unable to possess it; no longer will we allow the weak to be supported by the strong. From this day forth, you are rivals. You will feed off one another, to reach the top of the food chain, and if you fail then you will perish…”

One Apprentice stammered, stepping forward. “Master Jas, was there no othe--”

Vance reached out with the Force, grabbing the student’s neck with the invisible power; and with a mental twist, watched as the young woman’s neck snapped, causing her lifeless form to slump to the ground once the hold had been relinquished.

“No longer am I Master Jas,” The Sith Master said, his tone clearly not to be questioned. “I am Darth Vicirus… and you shall remember that name well, for those in this galaxy will soon be more than aware of it.”

As the Apprentices remained silent, simply watching out of fear of bringing the new Dark Lord’s wrath upon themselves, so to did Darth Vicirus wonder as to whether Lupercus had received his warning…

Alright, calculations complete. Next stop, Korriban.

"Excellent." Ithron answered, turning his back on the other Apprentice and walking through the ship. His left hand still ached, the flesh burnt and cracked on the surface - a mark of the cost of power. On his hands, he wore a pair of black gloves.

After losing conciousness earlier, he had slept for many hours and had felt refreshed when he felt the ship come out of hyperspace. Now, though, he felt restless. Pacing through the ship, he finally made his way into one of the cargo holds. There, with crates and boxes stacked around him, he sat cross-legged and feel into the trance state common to all students of the Force.

His mind wandered as it had the previous evening, but this time it focussed itself on Xa Fel very soon. He seemed to see the planet from space, and it grew bigger and bigger - from a speck of light in the distance to a gleaming ball.

I shouldn't able to focus on a planet using the Force. Not from this distance.

At this, Ithron felt a sense of uneasiness, knowing he didn't have the ability to do what his mind appeared to be doing. With a flash of insight, he realised that his mind was being drawn there whether he willed it or not.

Vance! he thought. As soon as he realised this, he struggled to break the mental connection. Somehow though, he was trapped in the trance state. As his mind's eye fell accelerated towards the surface of the planet, he saw the Sith Temple. Even closer, he became aware of figures outside, one standing and the others lying down. It appeared to be Vance and a large number of Apprentices.

What's going on?Ithron thought to himself.

As his vision descended to ground level, Vance turned and the Apprentices raised themselves with varying degrees of success. They all turned to Ithron. Now he could clearly see the injuries carried by the Apprentices. One had been chopped in half at the waist, another was headless, a third had a hole burned through her chest. With faces of death, they looked at Ithron and all spoke together.

Ithron, they intoned. You had best learn Lupercus’ lessons well…

The word's were Vance's, Ithron knew, and yet in this vision Vance hadn't spoken, only watched. There was a pause and then the Apprentices all screamed. Together the sound was blood-curdling - the death-cries of a dozen or more adepts.

With that sound, the vision ended, and Ithron opened his eyes in the cargo hold of the shuttle. Shakily, he stood up and walked to a computer terminal. The vessel was still in hyperspace with several hours estimated remaining in the trip.

Now, Ithron knew that Vance was watching him from afar and the thought troubled him. The Sith Master was formidable and had the capacity to destroy the Apprentice if he chose - if he got close enough. Shaking the thought out of his head, and relying on his ability to deal with whatever situation arose, Ithron set to work preparing equipment for their landing on Korriban - but not before considering what would happen if Lupercus and Vance clashed.

Max stepped out of the cockpit of YT-2000 and leaned against a wall next to the side compartment that every YT-2000 and its predecessors contained. The Jedi who had invited him - Ben - stepped out of the pilot seat, stepping over Marek who remained directly behind him in the co-pilot's seat. Max leaned casually, staring at Ben, hiding his excitement at finally getting to see a Jedi again.

Ben didn't waste time greeting him again - Max understood, they had already introduced each other earlier back on Coruscant. "What were you doing back there?"

Max sighed. He knew one of the two would ask - Ben or Marek - but Max didn't want them to know too much. "A mission."

Ben raised an eyebrow. Max groaned in his head, looking down as he spoke. "I work for Stellar Enterprises, I was here enjoying some of my time off from my busy schedule, when I sensed other force users on the planet nearby. When I noticed Imperial patrols doubling, I figured something happened. I started searching, and well... here I am."

Ben stared, he didn't seemed satisfied with the answer he recieved, that or Max's story-telling skills were below-par again. Max stared at Ben for a few seconds, so many questions burning his insides.

"So why were you here?"

Max grinned, it always felt good to take a burning charcoal out of your hand.

Ben finally breathed easy and even let out a smile as he relaxed back in to the pilot's seat. It was a very eventful evening and he had accomplished thing's he had never done before. Never in his dreams would he had guessed that he would be breaking into Imperial security and misleading their pursuits. It was something Ben had to do, however, in order to go after Mira.

As he looked out into space beyond he saw only blackness, but yet even that darkness was covered in holes of lights. Tiny as they might be, the spots of lights were many and held wonders of their own right. Could it be that even the darkest of souls had little bits of light sprinkled around? If that was so, then perhaps people could change their way if they were meant to see the good inside them.

Mira now must be with others now. She was helped to escape Coruscant and something told him whoever did help, would be there with her when he located her, if he located her. There was no way Ben would take on Mira and someone else like her. It was then, though, that he realized he was not alone anymore. He would have help this time. He could see that help seated in the cockpit through their reflection in the viewport.

Ben stood finally and turned towards their new friend, a Jedi who had somehow found his ship. He walked into the ship's main cabin, listening to Max speak before turning to the man.

"I was here following a woman, a woman filled with darkness. I don't know the reason yet, but I believe something big is going on here and I had to stop her." He paused and moved to get some water before continuing.

In little time Ben recalled his story of finding Mira on Telos and about the brief battle they had fought. He explained locating her on Coruscant and meeting with Marek, who had helped Ben locate the stolen speeder.

"We have to move fast, however, or it will be too late. Mira now knows that I am onto her and will try to follow. We have to decide where she went and intercept her there. The last time I located her was through meditation, maybe the same could be done now." He gazed from Max to Marek. "Do you two have any other ideas we should try?"

Hyperspace.

It is somewhat of a mystery to many who travel within its bounds. The physics of how a ship makes the move from sublight to superlight speed without ever actually reaching the speed of light is known only to a select few scientists. Of course, few people actually care. All that matters to them is that it is possible. And they make vast use of it.

The two Sith apprentices belonged to the second group. Their shuttle hurtled through the tunnel of blue and white while neither of them had the slightest clue about the intracacies of how they were able to do so. Instead, each sat in his or her own corner of the shuttle, doing whatever it was they did. Mira was meditating, as was her custom on long trips. She assumed Ithron was doing the same - at least he appeared to be - so she wasn't too worried about him bursting in and striking her down.

Mira's breathing was shallow, and her pulse low, but it was not for health reasons. In truth, Mira had never been stronger. She had been in meditation for half a standard day by this point, and the longer she meditated, the more the power of the Dark Side filled her. Still, though, she did not give herself over to it. Ithron's betrayal, or what she assumed was a betrayal, was evidence enough of the dangers associated with such surrender.

It was at that moment that the visions hit her. They came in succession, rapidly, allowing little time for thought. Her eyes shut tight, Mira absorbed the information as best she could.

Mira stood in the courtyard of the Sith Temple on Xa Fel. Other apprentices were gathered around her, waiting on something. The atmosphere was tense. She could feel something wrong in the Force. Something wrong with Master Jas.

Somehow Mira knew she was not actually standing there. She was observing, as from a distance, almost like she was watching a holovid. Master Jas emerged from the Temple and spoke briefly with the apprentices. Then his blade ignited and he began slicing through them.

It was efficient and painful. Mira noticed as one apprentice, the strongest of them, escaped into the woods. Vance cut down the last apprentice standing, then turned and stared at her. The scene switched.

Now Mira stood in a clearing, surrounded by different apprentices, the ones who had not been in the courtyard. These were the strongest of the bunch. Vance emerged from the woods, lightsaber hanging at his side. Mira braced herself to watch him slaughter these as well, but he did not. He began speaking, but she could not hear words. One of the apprentices asked a question, and Vance used the Force to crush the life from her.

He spoke again, and this time Mira heard his words plainly. "No longer am I Master Jas. I am Darth Vicirus… and you shall remember that name well, for those in this galaxy will soon be more than aware of it."

Mira quickly realized the implications. Vance had finally taken on the title of a Dark Lord of the Sith. No longer was he simply the teacher - now he was the Master. But she didn't have long to reflect, as the scene switched again.

This time she stood in Lupercus's palace on Coruscant. She saw Ithron leave through the main door; apparently this was a vision of the past. But she did not follow him; instead, she watched Lupercus. After a certain amount of time - it could have been seconds, minutes, or hours, Mira wasn't sure - a woman stepped out of the shadows.

Somehow, Mira knew this woman was a Force user, but not of the Sith or the Jedi. There was something different about her...something different, and dangerous. She and Lupercus talked briefly, then she turned and strode from the room.

The scene switched once more. This vision was the future, she knew. She didn't know how she knew - she just did. She recognized where she was, though, for she had been there before. It was Korriban, in the Valley of the Dark Lords, just outside the entrance to the ancient Sith Academy. She entered, slowly, and found herself at a computer terminal. It simply flashed the words, "The crystal of Dathka Graush." Nothing more, nothing less. Perhaps this was the artifact the apprentices were to retrieve?

There was one final scene, now. Mira stood in an unknown valley on Korriban. It rippled with the flow of the Dark Side. As she stood there, the shadows lengthened. The sky grew dark. A voice came from the mouth of a tomb in front of her. "Mira Tyrel, no longer shall you be called Mira. You shall take upon yourself the title of a Sith, and shall call yourself Darth Skygge - Dark Shadow."

As the last vision disappeared, Mira emerged from her meditations. There was nothing more for her now, except one thing. She needed to prepare. As Ithron remained in his chambers, Mira headed for the storerooms. She wasn't going onto Korriban's surface without the proper equipment. Not again.

Marek looked on as Ben explained to Max the particulars of their quest thus far. It was only till Ben posed the question did Zolar focus his attention once again on the under-taking they now faced, that being, finding Mira.

"What about that shred of cloth you pulled from her speeder?" motioning to Ben's pocket.

"If that belongs to her, there’s a chance there's residual energy ingrained within it."

To avoid confusion, Marek explained what he meant.

"Every living creature has its own unique force signature, those of us who are able to manipulate the force, actually transfer that unique signature on to the things we come into contact with. However, I must warn that the traces of these signatures have only been known to exist temporarily after losing contact from their actual source."

He hoped it was making sense to them.

"Think of it as a personal tracking device. Once you find the right frequency channel, all you have to do is follow the signal."

He couldn't make it any clearer.

"If we can uncover her signature from the cloth, then perhaps we can use it to locate her in the galaxy. It's a long shot, but the way I see it, it's the only one we got."

Marek looked to Max, then back to Ben.

Though no one spoke up immediately, Marek could sense Ben was feeling something, or had felt something and was now deciding what to do next. Rather than asking him flat out what was troubling him, he thought it best to wait for Ben to come out with it on his own.

As Marek spoke about the possibility of finding Mira through the force energy she transferred into the cloth, Max's mind rushed through a few scenarios. His thoughts slowly purged together and Max finally understood what Marek was proposing and how correct he was. It was extremely hard for a force user not to leave some sign of their presence on something.

Max stared down at the cloth now in Bens' hands. "Marek has a valid point, a very nice idea..."

Max looked down at his feet, something he consantly did while thinking, he looked back up at the two again. "The stronger the force user is in the force, the stronger sense they leave in the object... like a smell, us being the predators-" Max smirked at the idea, he always liked acting like he had a backbone... it was stupidity. "-so in other words: If this Mira is weaker in the force, then it will be harder for us to... trace the scent. It would take a stronger individual in force reading... stronger than me in it, at least."

Max scratched his chin, looking from Marek and Ben. He could see Ben's curiosity and Marek's surprise that Max had understood anything he had said. Max halted the scratching of his chin to speak again. "I say we try Marek's idea. It's a good one."