[TOR] Salamandros of the Seven Eyes

[Askari]

[This will be the first, of hopefully many scenes from the life of Salamandros my Jedi Consular/Shadow, compiled hundreds of years after the time of the TOR game. Some will chronicle his youth. Some will chronicle him in his days after the game.]

Nox Bin Reldin was a quiet youngling. Moderately successful in academic pursuits, about average in force studies, and near the middle of the pack in combat training. He was neither hated nor loved by his fellow students. Nor by his teachers. He simply existed in the middle of the pack, content to perch upon the peak of the bell curve where he could keep an eye on everyone.

There was to be an assembly in the Grand Hall this afternoon. Classes after lunch were suspended, so that the younglings could clean up and arrive for some visiting dignitary's speech. Nox wished the lunch line would move a bit faster. He was eager to finish early and get a good seat. Neither too far back, nor too close. Maybe off to the side... where he could watch the faces of those in the audience as they listened.

He reached, Jornak, the elderly human who served them lunch every day and extended his tray, wondering what main course would plop onto his plate and whether it would be edible. With a "schlump" a heaping pile of some sort of stew was deposited into the center of his plate with ruthless efficiency. It may as well have been shot from the nozzle of an assembly droid. Two long, thin pieces of bread were deftly placed in perfect counterpoint on either side of the stew, as if to form a barrier and prevent its escape.

Nox paused and looked up at the old human. Jornak's hands usually shook, and he was quite haphazard in his application of food to tray. Jornak stared back at him disinterestedly, and motioned for him to move along.

Nox hurried along, so as not to call attention to himself. But something was wrong. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that man wasn't Jornak!

As he made his way to a table, he surreptitiously looked back, opening his senses to the Force. The man stood a little too tall. His coloring was a bit off. And he continued to efficiently apply food to tray with near-military precision.

Nox sat with his back to the man and reached out with the Force. Back, back, until his mind's eye hovered above not-Jornak. As the last youngling received his food and walked towards the tables, not-Jornak raised a communicator to his mouth. Quickly, Nox focused his hearing to catch the whispered transmission.

"It's on," said the man. "Meet me in the kitchen."

The man who was not Jornak loaded serving dishes onto a hover-cart and made his way quickly towards the service lift.

Nox stood and looked for the class master who usually ate with his group. He was nowhere to be found! Panic rose within him. What should he do? Who should he tell?

But he pushed the fear away and took a deep breath. "Settle down," he said to himself. "You are Nox Bin Reldin of Corellia, not some nerf-herding farm boy. You can handle this!"

He checked his gear quickly. His Academy com unit had limited capabilities, but every youngling knew the emergency code that would bring security running. His training saber could stun a foe, but not much else. But perhaps it would help in a pinch.

Looking around the room, he wondered if he should enlist some classmates. But he decided against it. He didn't have time to stop and convince them. Best to follow the man, and call in an emergency when he had more information.

Having made up his mind, he stood nonchalantly and strolled towards the exit, as if heading back to the dorm to change. When he rounded the corner and was out of sight of his fellow students, he broke into a run towards the stairs. He's already wasted precious minutes deciding what to do, and had to get to the kitchen at best speed.

-----

Nox approached the kitchen and skidded to a stop. He'd never ran that fast before. The Force buzzed in him like electricity, setting his senses afire. He paused and took two deep breaths to center himself. He then crept forward into the series of preparation and storage rooms... silently with his hand on his training saber and his senses spreading before him.

"We should have a minute or two," said a man's voice. "Do you know what we'll need?"

Another voice, further inside mumbled a response.

"Good, I'll wait here and prepare the ambush," the man chuckled. And after a pause, "Better fetch it now... and give me a few minutes."

The other voice mumbled and footsteps trailed away.

Nox's head spun. Who were they ambushing? What was starting? Who were these men and what were they up to? He needed to find out as much as he could before calling this in to the guards. So he eased into the room, using counters and storage shelves as cover.

Another breath. And another. Calmness. Silence. Unseen.

A tickle. And another. Someone was using the Force in the room. Very smoothly and gently, with such subtlety it hardly made a ripple. He could barely feel it, and couldn't be sure where it was coming from.

He looked around slowly. There! A slight movement from a tiny object. A sphere the size of a small pea. And another! And another! Now that he knew what to look for, he spotted several of them hovering all around him. Held aloft and hidden by the Force.

Could it be the Sith? Here in the Academy? Impossible!

He had seen enough. The alarm needed to be sounded, before he was caught. He activated his com and pressed in the emergency code. Nothing happened. "Oh bantha poodoo... I'm humped," thought Nox.

In a flash, the tiny spheres vanished and someone in the center of the room started clapping.

"Congratulations Ser Reldin! Very well done. You may come out now."

A door on the far side of the room opened and another person entered, "I brought it Master, his favorite: Corellian Chocolate Cloud Cake."

It was Jornak's voice, the real Jornak, he was sure of it! What was going on here? He slowly peeked his head up to see two Jornak's. One was the old man who had served him lunch all year. The other was pulling off a wig and scrubbing his face with a towel. The latter turned towards him and said, "Come along Nox! Let's review the holovid and have some cake!"

The man pulled opened a pocket and several little spheres settled into it. He then placed a holo-emitter and fired it up. A holographic image of him sitting in the lunch room appeared. He watched himself get up and stroll towards the exit. The man paused the playback, and turned back to Nox.

"Ahh, where are my manners? You are probably still suspicious, and well you should be! Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Salamandros, and you have just chosen me to be your Master. I thank you for honoring me, and promise to do my best to serve you... my padawan. Now get yourself over here and have some cake. We need to celebrate!"

Salamandros smiled big, and Jornak waved him over with a chuckle. They continued the holo-vid and Jornak exclaimed, "Wow, look at him run! He's a fast one Master!"

"Aye, that he is. I sensed it in him, but he kept it hidden in classes. Our young Nox plays it close to the vest. One wonders if he's going to peer at us from behind the counter all afternoon, or join us for cake," said Salamandros with a guffaw.

At that moment, another person entered. It was the headmaster of Nox's class. "Well, did you find someone Master Salamandros? Or should we let you 'audition' another class?"

"Well, I'm not sure. What say you Nox Bin Reldin? Would you have me train you to be a Jedi Shadow?"

Nox stood, smiled, and strode confidently forward. "For a piece of Corellian Chocolate Cloud Cake, you can teach me to be a wookiee ballerina... Master."

Excerpted from:
Salamandros of the Seven Eyes,
Jedi Spymaster of The Old Republic,
Chapter 23 "The Students of Salamandros"

[Askari]

[ A few hours later, Salamandros and his new apprentice leave the Jedi Academy. ]

As the ship lifted from the space port, Nox Bin Reldin heaved a great sigh. It had only been a few hours since he followed Salamandros into the kitchen, but his life was already unrecognizable. Gone were his classmates and teachers. Gone was the Academy... his home for most of his young life. The adrenaline wave he had been riding started to recede as the planet receded below him, and he was forced to stifle a yawn.

Salamandros glanced over from the pilot's seat and flashed a quick smile at Nox, "Here now Nox, don't fade on me yet! I'm sure you have a great deal of questions about me, and I'll want you to provide me with some answers before we rest."

"Master? You want me to give you answers? About you?"

"Certainly! You don't expect me to just volunteer information about myself..."

Nox just stared at his new Master, not sure what to say.

Salamandros sighed melodramatically, "Very well. I will start you off. I was born a poor Hutt child. My mother was a Transdoshan glitterstim addict and my father was a Wookiee speeder salesman."

Nox had been amongst the Jedi long enough to know when a Master was in lesson-mode. And this was obviously a lesson. But he wasn't exactly sure where this was headed. Nox grinned, "Umm, okay."

"Okay, is it? Perhaps I didn't make myself clear Nox. We won't be resting until you can provide me with answers to questions. What can you tell me about my parents?"

"Nothing... Master," said Nox uncertainly.

"Weren't you listening boy? I'll tell you again. This time, you try to keep your ears open. Think about what I say."

Salamandros set the auto-pilot and stood, "Come, let's adjourn to the lounge. We have a couple pieces of leftover cake." As Salamandros turned away from Nox he repeated, "My mother was a Transdoshan glitterstim addict and my father was a Wookiee speeder salesman."

Nox had been ready this time. He filtered the statement through the Force. He heard the tone of his Master's voice, his breathing, his heart. Nox never really thought about his ability to tell truth from lie, he'd always taken it for granted. He'd heard that many Force-sensitives could do the same, even without Jedi training. But this was a puzzling development... Salamandros was apparently telling the truth.

After a pause, Salamandros asked again. "What can you tell me about my parents?"

"I'm not sure, Master."

"Ah ha! Progress is made. That's a much better answer than 'nothing'. Let's find that cake and hash this out."

A few moments later they sat in the galley and Salamandros continued, "So, I told you a fact about my parents and you said you knew nothing of them. Then I repeated the fact about my parents, and you said you weren't sure what you knew. What changed?"

"Master... I paid close attention to your words the second time, and you seemed to have told the truth about your parents being a Transdoshan and a Wookiee, but obviously you are neither species."

"Very well Nox, let's say you're right. List the potential solutions to this riddle and which solution is most likely."

Nox carefully maintained a positive facial expression. Jedi Masters hated it when you rolled your eyes at them. But it took great deal of control. He thought to himself, "A pop quiz? Already? I haven't even stowed my gear! I don't even know where we're going! Crap... I better focus."

After a few more bites of cake, Nox began his answer, "Master, your statement about your parents seems very unlikely and doesn't make much sense. But I have historically been very good at telling truth from lie, and it feels to me as if you are telling the truth.

You could be lying to me, and a good enough liar to make me believe it's the truth. That would not be surprising of a master Jedi Shadow. Or possibly instead of working on yourself to disguise your words and thoughts... you mind-tricked me into believing what I heard.

Or you could truly believe your parents were Transdoshan and Wookiee, because you were adopted, insane, brainwashed...

You also said you were born a poor Hutt child. You are obviously not a Hutt, but perhaps you were a Hutt's slave and were cared-for by a Transdoshan and Wookiee who were also Hutt slaves."

Nox was warming to this challenge, and although he appeared to focus on his cake as he spoke, every ounce of concentration was tuned on his new Master. Warmer? Colder?

"Maybe you have played with words? Maybe your human mother was addicted to Transdoshan glitterstim. And your human father sold speeders to Wookiees. Maybe your parents were actors, and played those roles in a holovid. Maybe you have falsified your records, so that official public documents declare this lie to be true, but you are truly representing that false official record."

Nox paused again as Salamandros finished his cake, slid the plate away and fished a sabacc deck from his robes. He began to shuffle the cards and said, "I am pleased that you have your thinking cap on, Nox. Do you have a favorite theory so far?"

"Master... I'm beginning to worry that I'd believe my parents were Transdoshan and Wookiee if you told me it was fact."

"Ha! And perhaps you're right Nox. Perhaps you're right. So what can you tell me about my parents?"

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?" Salamandros gestured to himself, "Obviously they were human."

"Even if I trusted my eyes around you Master, there is surgery and technology... I can't even be 100% sure you are human. I can tell you nothing about your parents."

"Very well, that's an even better answer, because this time you've thought about it before answering. You're already starting to think more like a Shadow. But now you have a new problem. I've told you we will not rest until you can answer some questions about me. I want you to tell me something about my parents. How will you find answers?"

Nox thought a bit as he finished his cake. "If you were willing, I could ask you more questions about your parents and childhood. I could use that time to analyze your speech and the flow of the Force around us to see if you are really telling the truth and how such an unlikely statement could be true. If the statement is untrue, perhaps I could figure out if you are passively disguising your own thoughts... or if you are actively messing with my mind."

Salamandros smiled and stretched his arms up above his head. The sabacc deck continued to shuffle itself...with only the tiniest rippling of Force, "I'd be happy to tell you all about my childhood, padawan. We've got a long journey ahead of us."

Nox returned his Master's smile, "Perhaps a bit later Master? My mother, who was a Twi'lek fighter pilot, always used to tell me: never ask a Hutt for compassion or a Wookiee for a comb.

So if it's all right with you, I think I will access the Jedi database before we enter hyperspace. I should say farewell to a few friends. And maybe give Jornak a call, since I forgot to thank him for the cake."

Salamandros returned to shuffling the sabacc deck by hand, "Very well youngling, let me know when you are ready to continue our conversation."

As Nox walked towards the comm section, seven tiny spheres rose from Salamandros' pocket. The spheres spread out to the corners of the room and began to trail the boy, shimmering briefly as they winked out of normal sight.

"Ask a Wookiee for a comb..." Salamandros chuckled to himself. Another thing his new student had hidden from his teachers and classmates: a sense of humor. He stowed his cards and began brewing a pot of caffa. It might be a long night.

Nox didn't have the clearance to access his Jedi file, and Salamandros didn't think the boy's slicing skills were up to the task of cracking it. This ship's database was as well-secured as anything in the galaxy, and didn't contain anything about his parents. Jornak had a line to feed the boy. As did Nox's old headmaster, if Nox should contact him. Nox would quickly realize that they might be compromised.

As the caffa brewed, Salamandros sat back down and pushed up his sleeve. A holovid display beam crackled to life showing a real-time image of Nox. He had indeed gone to the comm section. Salamandros was no youngling, he never made that assumption.

He grinned as he remembered his first student, Natani Yun. A Twi'lek girl... she made a bee-line for his cabin, picked the door's lock, and started rifling through his gear and belongings. She pocketed 75 galactic credits she found in a drawer, cloned and bugged his comm unit, took images of all his ID papers, and placed Alderaanian itching mite eggs under his mattress. She then promptly faked an illness and went to bed, spending the entire night trying to crack the encryption on his comm documents.

Oh, how he missed that girl. Nowhere near as strong in the Force as Nox, but absolutely fearless! And a fierce defender of the Jedi and Republic, "Damn the Sith for taking her from us!"

"Salamandros you old fool," he thought to himself, "stop you're woolgathering and keep an eye on Nox!"

He tapped a few buttons on his wrist unit and slipped into the comm computer. "Hmm, first call to Jornak's message system. Jornak would've picked up, so the boy intentionally did not want to speak to him. He left a message... <tap, tap, tap>. 'Thanks for the cake, hope to see you again soon.' Blah, blah, blah. The message center disconnects, but Nox forces the line to stay open. Good, good. Redirecting the other end of the connection. Bouncing the signal to Corellia using the headmaster's access code. Interesting move!"

Salamandros stood to get himself a cup of the now-ready caffa. Musing to himself, he returned to his seat, "Hmm, who could the boy know on Corellia that may shed some light on my background? I've reviewed the list of known family and acquaintances. There shouldn't be anything there. Young Nox has been playing very close to the vest indeed."

He pondered the boy's move.  Salamandros wasn't from Corellia, nor were his parents. He tried to remember if his parents had ever set foot on Corellia. As he thought of his parents, he felt a light tickle at the back of his neck. He stifled a smile. Oh, that Nox is a cheeky monkey!

Reining-in his thoughts, he quickly constructed a detailed memory of his "Wookiee father" running a huge, bright-pink comb through his luxurious dark locks while a Huttling with Salamandros' features looked on adoringly. He pulled up the holovid to watch Nox's expression as he let the false memory float to the top of his mind... to be caught by Nox's probe.

Nox turned to the transmitting "eye", grinned and shrugged at the tiny sphere. He then returned his attention to the comm panel.

Ahh, Nox was also going to be a handful! Nowhere near as streetsmart and feisty as Natani Yun, but so much stronger in the Force. It took her months to even realize Salamandros followed her with his specialized holovid recorders, carried and concealed by the Force. And she never could tell which three were emitters, which three were receivers, and which one was the transmitter. Yet here was Nox, looking right into the transmitter on the very first day. And that mental probe... much slicker than expected without training.

This was always the joy of taking on a new apprentice. The surprises. The lessons learned by the Master. Salamandros still used some of the tricks Natani Yun had tried against him. Some of the lessons he had learned from her had even saved his life. He again thanked the Force that Nox had "chosen" him as his Master, and returned to observing the boy.

"Now what the heck is he up to," he mumbled to himself as he sipped his caffa.

[Askari]

Salamandros finished reviewing the holovid of the latest training session with his padawan for the third time. How could the boy be so good at so many things, yet so hopeless with a dual-bladed lightsaber? Salamandros shook his head with a chuckle and flipped off the recording.

Salamandros sighed. With a thought, his 'eyes' rose from his wrist bracer. "I guess everyone has their own gifts and challenges," he mused as he started the seven pea-sized spheres dancing a complicated pattern in mid-air.

With another thought, the spheres winked out of sight. He could still feel them with the Force, but they didn't register on his eyes at all. These were his gifts: fine telekinetic manipulation and stealth. These skills came to him naturally.

-------

Not that he didn't have his own mental blocks when he was young! As an initiate, his trainers marveled at his telekinetic Force abilities. He could use the Force to shuffle cards (and stack the deck). He could juggle dozens of pebbles at once (or single-handedly pull the entire initiate cafeteria into a food fight).

But as soon as they asked him to lift something heavier than he could lift with his own hands... his abilities failed him. It seemed silly in retrospect. And embarrassing. He still remembered the sting when his trainers pointed out that every other initiate in his group had lifted the large broken piece of machinery in the training courtyard. Except him.

Salamandros lost track of the hours he spent staring at that big hunk of metal, trying to move it.

Oddly enough, it was a padawan who helped him past the mental block: a quiet, intense Miralukan named, Grimwyrd.

Grimwyrd was several years his senior, and yet stories were still told around the academy regarding his ability to lift truly massive objects.

Salamandros had heard that Grimwyrd would be visiting the academy on an errand for his Master, so Salamandros arranged to ambush the padawan in the courtyard when his shuttle landed and ask for advice. And so he did.

Salamandros explained the issue and begged Grimwyrd to share his secret. The quiet Miralukan pondered the problem for several minutes in silence. Finally he said, "Show me one of them card tricks you do."

Salamandros pulled a worn sabacc deck from his robe's pocket. After years of practice, he knew each of these cards as if they were a part of him. He quickly sent the cards dancing around him shuffling in and out, flying back and forth. Grimwyrd watched impassively for several minutes.

Finally, Grimwyrd held up his hand, "OK, I know the problem. And the solution."

Grimwyrd pulled a stylus and notepad from his pocket and spent several minutes writing a note. It seemed everything took several minutes, with this padawan!

Salamandros tried to use the Force to watch what he was writing, but Grimwyrd was shielding his writing with his other hand.

Once finished, Grimwyrd folded the paper into a little wad and placed it on the ground. Stepping back and clasping his hands in front of him, he took a few deep breaths. Then he slowly reached his hand out towards the shuttle. With a groan, the shuttle lifted several inches into the air and settled back down with its landing gear directly on the paper.

"I've written your answer on the piece of paper. It is my hope that when you read the note, you will understand. Now I must attend to my Master's errand. Farewell and good luck."

The young Salamandros stared after Grimwyrd in frustration.

"Seriously? I ask for help and he pulls this poodoo on me. Some people! The Council makes 'em a padawan and they start acting like some bigtime, mysterious Master," Salamandros thought to himself with a large mental sigh.

He stared at the spot where the paper was. In an almost perfect imitation of Grimwyrd... he clasped his hands in front of him, took a few deep breaths, and then slowly reached his hand out towards the shuttle.

Nothing happened. He focused. He felt the shuttle through the Force. He tried again.

Suddenly, with a groan... the hatch opened. An astromech droid sent a querulous series of beeps and whistles out into the courtyard.

"Oh my apologies," said Salamandros, thinking quickly. "I didn't mean to disturb you. Could I ask you to move the shuttle back to where you originally landed it?"

With a chiding whistle and a static raspberry, the droid closed the hatch. Shortly thereafter, the shuttle powered up and shifted itself back to its original landing position. The moment the shuttle lifted, Salamandros pulled the wad of paper to him with the Force.

Looking about guiltily, Salamandros quickly ran off to his quarters before Grimwyrd could return. Once he was safely alone, sitting crosslegged on his bunk, he unfolded the paper and read the note.

"Dear Salamandros,

As soon as I leave, I will comm my droid in the shuttle. I'll tell him to give you a few minutes, and then poke his head out. I'll instruct him to move the shuttle, if you ask him to.

If you are reading this note, as a result of the above chain of events, then it is my hope the following advice will help you.

I watched you send your cards flying about and am truly impressed with your ability to control them. But I believe you are under the illusion that you move the cards. You do not.

You move the Force, and the Force moves the cards.

It is a chain, set in motion by your thoughts.

You may feel guilty about how you got this note. Do not. That is part of the lesson.

You reached out to the droid. You made your will known to the droid. The droid moved the shuttle.

That is exactly how I moved the shuttle.

I reached out to the Force. I made my will known to the Force. The Force moved the shuttle.

The shuttle weighs tons, but the Force is lighter than a feather. You don't lift the cards and I don't lift the shuttle. We simply communicate to the Force. The Force can move galaxies.

There are only two factors to concern yourself with. First, is your connection to the Force strong enough to make your intentions reality?

I have witnessed your connection to the Force. It is stronger than mine. I have every confidence that you could also move the shuttle.

Second, is your focus clear and unclouded by misperceptions? That is where you need to re-think your approach.

As you juggle your cards, consider my words. Realize that you are creating a pattern with your mind, communicating that pattern to the Force, and the Force is making that pattern reality. You are not lifting or moving the cards, you are simply communicating the pattern to the Force. The Force moves the cards.

Once you can juggle your cards from that mental perspective, the shuttle will be no issue.

Good luck. Don't break anything.

Grimwyrd"

Salamandros thought a moment. How did he juggle the cards? He'd done it for years and it came so naturally, that he'd never really thought about it.

He took out his deck and sent the cards dancing in a slow pattern. He imagined that he had seventy-six hands, each holding a card and moving to his will. Hmm.

He partitioned his mind. Part of himself continued to make the cards dance, like a drummer setting down a base rhythm with one foot pedal while leaving his hands free for another task.

He sent his mind's eye to the other side of the room and watched himself juggle the cards, as if he were a spectator, sensing how the Force moved about him. He had almost expected to see little strings of Force going from his mind to each card, like the strings from puppeteer to puppet.

Instead, he saw wave after wave of rapid ripples emanating from him and encompassing the globe of cards. The motion of the cards was less like puppets on strings, and more like a "flip book" where quickly flipping through static pictures makes the images come alive.

What Grimwyrd said was true. He wasn't really moving the cards directly. He was communicating a rapid series of three-dimensional coordinates to the Force, and the Force was attempting to make the cards fit each snapshot.

With this realization, Salamandros snapped back into his mind and the cards spilled to the ground.

"Hmm," he thought. "I guess I should be a little impressed with myself. I never really realized how complicated that was. I just sort of did it. And if I can do that... I should be able to move darn near anything."

With a thought, he envisioned his sabacc deck returning to his hand and sent this vision out into the universe. The Force responded and the cards leapt to his hand. He placed them into his pocket and carefully folded Grimwyrd's note.

He ran back out to the courtyard. Grimwyrd's shuttle was still there. He placed the folded note on the ground next to the landing gear and stepped back.

He centered himself, took a few deep breaths, and reached out to the Force. He senses enveloped the shuttle and felt it. Understood it. Every speck of it and every speck within it. How it displaced the air. How it compressed the ground it rested on.

He didn't try to lift the shuttle. He just envisioned it hovering several inches higher. He envisioned the changes in the air and the ground that would be caused if his vision came true.

And then it was true. The shuttle hovered several inches from the ground.

He pictured the shuttle touching down gently on top of the folded note from Grimwyrd. And it was so.

Salamandros felt good. Peaceful. Like a wall had broken within him.

Then he heard a door open behind him and Grimwyrd came out into the courtyard, a half-smile on his face.

"Well, that took less time than I feared. Well done, lad!"

Salamandros beamed at him, "Thank you! And thanks so much for your help."

"My pleasure. Now I should really finish my errand and get back on the move," said Grimwyrd. "Here, I think you're supposed to have this."

Grimwyrd pulled a small bag out of his robes and handed it to Salamandros, "My master found this several years ago in some ruins here on Tython while working on the new Temple. He hasn't gotten too far with it yet, but it appears to be a holovid recording rig. It also has some force crystal tech in it, so he thinks it may be linked to recording Jedi holocrons."

Salamandros took the bag and peered inside, "Umm, why are you giving this to me?"

"My Master said to bring it here, help the first person who approached me, and hand it to them when their problem is solved," replied Grimwyrd with a shrug. "You know how it goes. The council makes someone a Master and they start acting all mysterious."

Salamandros grinned and nodded.

Grimwyrd said, "While I was inside, I told the Master of Initiates that I was likely handing this artifact off to you. So no one should hassle you about it, or try to take it away while you're here. But my Master likely foresaw something. Maybe he just saw that you could figure out how to use it. Or maybe he saw that you will need to use it. Either way, keep it safe and study it."

"I will," said Salamandros.

"All right, I'm off to my next exciting errand. Farewell kid. May the Force be with you."

-------

Back in the present, a commlink chime broke Salamandros from his reverie.

"Uhhh, Master? I know you told me to keep practicing, but I think I may have broken this light saber," said Nox over the comm.

Salamandros chuckled, "OK Nox, no worries. I'll be down in a minute to look at it. That's probably enough practice for today anyway."

Cutting the link, he pushed up the sleeve of his robe and looked more closely at the artifact he wore on his left forearm. It was a bracer of synthetic, leather-like material that was far more durable than any he had ever encountered.

On the pinky-side of his forearm, a sturdy rod of metal within the bracer ran from his wrist almost to his elbow. He activated the hidden micro-shield generator with the Force and pale green shield of energy spread from the metal bar, circling the artifact and his arm.

He knew from experience that the shield could deflect a Sith lightsaber, although he tried not to use the bracer too often for defensive purposes for fear of damaging it. He released the shield and continued his examination.

On the thumb-side of his forearm, another metal rod was sewn into the bracer. This one was hollow and capped. With the Force, he opened the cap and sent the seven spheres to their resting place, stacked inside the tube.

The palm-side of his forearm was where the device parted, to be taking off and put back on.

But it was the top-side of the forearm that received most of his attention. One of the smallest holovid projectors he had ever seen was mounted on the artifact, near his wrist. With a thought, a blue-field holovid projection would rise above his forearm, roughly the size of a fighter helmet. Further up his forearm was a 2d screen.

The seven spheres comprised three pairs of emitters/receivers and one transmitter. By spacing these three pairs out around a subject, a full 3d holovid could be captured of the area within the spheres. The seventh sphere collected the holovid data and transmitted it to the bracer for storage or real-time playback.

The seventh sphere also recorded a vast amount of physical data: temperature, pressure, humidity, and atmospheric composition... even approximate gravity levels.

The technology of this artifact was probably lost millennia ago. Salamandros had never seen anything like it in the many years since he first received it from Grimwyrd. He could sense tiny organic Force crystals in the bracer and in each sphere, similar to the material used in the Jedi holocrons of old. The spheres' transmissions and even presence was almost undetectable by most modern electronics. And they were very easy to guide and hide with the Force... for someone with excellent Force telekinetic abilities.

But Salamandros thought the artifact came to him for other reasons. There were still things about this device he didn't understand after all these years. It had been an invaluable tool, but he believed its true purpose was still shrouded.

"Oh well," he thought. "Someday maybe I'll tease out your last secrets old friend."

He patted the bracer, lowered the sleeve of his robe, and went to check on Nox. This little bout of nostalgia had given him some ideas to help Nox with his dual-bladed light saber issues. But it sounds like some repair work may be in order first.