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The man behind him was a fool if he though he was getting the drop on Trance. He smiled and shook his head as he carefully studied the second holographic image of another man dancing with a vibroblade across the table. The style he was using was more complicated then the one n the last recording.

He choked back a laugh, he could feel the Sith pocking around inside his head and found it amusing as to how easy it was to shield his thoughts from him, and how foolish the Sith was to brandish a weapon as openly as he was. He could smell the grease and lubricants used to keep the gears and fasteners for the gun working properly. Hell, it was the only scent in the room aside from dust and the linen robes Trance was wearing.

He turned off the holo-disk recording and looked up to the ceiling of the cavernous library and breathed in deeply upon the molded air and then let it out in a long sigh. "I think I figured out why you were put in that cell." He stood and turned around to face the incompetent Sith, keeping his hand tucked into the sleeves of his dark brown robes. He looked down at the pistol, a smile creeping onto his pale white face. "I wonder, are you truly fast enough with that? Can you truly match the skills of an Echani worrier? I'd be humbled if you agreed to a dual, right here and now, no force powers of course."

Trance shrugged and quickly shook Mitch's hand. Either Mitch spoke the truth, or had a very silver tongue. Trance didn't care which. Mitch's foolishness would get him in trouble than he had been in before. And then he would be out of Trance's way.

"Trance Shada" He replied informally, no nod, no bow, nothing. "Worrier for the Echani, and, from what I can tell, soon to be a worrier for the Sith"

He turned his back again to Mitch and sat down, starting the holo-disk from where it had left off. He was too absorbed in the holo-recording of the hooded figure to say any more to Mitch. At the end of the recording, the figure cast his blade at his side and raised his right hand. What looked to be lighting shot from his fingertips and stretched what looked to be a good ten feet.

Trance watched with emotionless eyes and began to stroke his chin. He was pondering how to craft force powers into the martial arts he had learned from the Twi-lek species. He made up his mind and popped in the disk on force power once the image vanished.

Trance retired to his personal quarters, taking the holo-disks and the player with him. He set them neatly in his foot locker. Again he was surprised by what he saw when he returned. He had a fully made bed with a then mattress on the hard stone slab. He shrugged, dismissing it as the work of unseen servants who were probably instructed to stay out of sight until called upon.

He sealed the door and laid down on the new bed, only slightly more comfortable than before. Again he dozed off. The forces that be would grant him no mercy tonight. The whispering came strong, like a whirl wind of noise, and consumed him almost instantly.

Sentences and phrases that made no sense were thrown around him. It was the same thing over and over, screaming into his head. Anger, regret, sorrow, passion. False. Truth. Lies. Repeated continuously.

Is this some kind of new torture? Am I to never be left alone again?He tried with every thing that he was to tune it out. And, to his great astonishment, the noise ebbed and slowly silenced, and only one voice spoke.

I say it's about time.

He struggles to lift a second book shelf, using the force he keeps the books from falling off, the strain on him is clearly evident as he struggles to lift the second booksehlf however he manages to do it. He makes the two book cases float around the room, admiring and basking in what power he had, he just hoped he could get training.. he had read most of the books in here when he first arrived, they had taught him much but he knew that he needed a master to truly learn, and he had to do things. He remmebered the quote "you learn things by example not reading alone" after a couple of minutes he could notice the strain and set one of the bookshelfs back down were he got it.

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Being out in the court yard behind the temple and leading down to the valley was a relaxing change from the musty interior of the school. He had just finished practicing his lihgtsaber forms and was looking for some piece and quite. The hustle and bustle of the temple inside and the many initiates and apprentices toiling on their basic force and light saber exercises made him feel as though he were back on Nar Shada. In such an out of the way place you would think it would be alot quitter.

Unable to stand the noise any longer, he stepped outside to the only place were the only sound made was the whisper of the wind. It sounded as though it were telling stories of the Golden Age as it rushed through the valley of the ancient Sith lords. It sighed tales of Darth Nemisis and Naga Sadow. It sang of Exar Kun, Darth Bane, and Aleema.

He hid his arms in the inside of his robe sleeves and his head and face inside his hood. The sun that Korriban orbited was harsh, even in the evening. A desert sun was not kind to the pale features of an Echani. He folded his robes in on himself as he sat down on one of the many stones surrounding the ceremonial center of the courtyard and turned to look down into the valley.

The harshness was of set only by the pure beauty of the valley during the setting of thesun. As the rays hit the valley walls, the coarse brown of the cliffs turned a stunning pink at the crests and a crimson red at the base. A smirk place his other wise still lips as he began to think about his possible future. A future in witch there would be more battles, more fights, more kills. The red base of the cliffs made him think of the crimson tears that fell from the eyes of his opponents as he delivered the killing blow with his vibroblade.

The fingers of his right hand slowly caressed the hilt of his newly built saber. As the sun finally disappeared over the cliffs he removed it from the inside of his right robe sleeve and began twirling it in his hand clockwise, then counter clock wise. He found peace with in his violent thoughts. He had never felt complete as a bounty hunty. He had always felt that there was more to his life, and perhaps this was it: to become a Sith, and aid in the resurection of thier glory.

He stood and replaced the saber, he had practiced his forms earlier in the day and there was no point to over work him self. He turned about from the rock upon which he sat, his robe catching on the current he created and flowing up slightly, just enough to show were his boots were cut off by his pants. He strolled down the walk, pushing the doors open with the force, not even lifting his hand to focus. He willed them open, and they obeyed.

Draiman sat upon one of many libary stools, going over many Datapads enrolled in the Sith facility, over the Jedi Side, their ways. Draiman wasn't converting, he was merely understanding his enemies, he was at that experience to understand what he was doing how to control his emotions well enough so that the Jedi couldn't try anything, he was good at it.

He had his cloak stationed back in his room, he only had a dark grey muscule shirt on and his black Sith pants where his single hilt saber was hanging from, he hated the idea of a single hilt, he wanted a Double, yet he needed to be accepted by the Dark Lord or a Master to endure that weapon. He had the ability to weild the double but never got the chance to use or build one as of now.

Flipping the screen to the next he went over the many logos of an older Sith enountering the Jedi, specialy tactics to make them lose control and fall to the Dark Side seemed easy threw Draiman's eyes but he never did it before, which could be difficult.