They say the first time is the hardest.
They lie.
The hardest part was preparing for the injection.
The lights above me hum with a sterile indifference as I sit alone in my new lab. Not one of the decoys with leaky ceilings or half-scorched walls. This is real, funded, safe and mine. For now.
I roll the syringe between my fingers. The liquid inside seems almost alive. A deep hue with threads of shifting light, looking like liquid thought. It is both beautiful and terrifying.
There will be no more test subjects. And no more biomass proxies. If I want to create a bridge to the Force... it has to be crossed in flesh and mind.
My own.
I press the injector to the crook of my arm. I do not hesitate. Pain flares briefly, then vanishes into a sense of cold.
I wait for some type of reaction. At first there is nothing. My heartbeat echoes in my throat. My hands tremble, but that could just be adrenaline. I look around the lab, and --
The lights flicker.
No. Not flicker they ripple.
Reality bends.
My senses bloom. I hear the whine of a power conduit two floors down. Feel the pulsing warmth of my own heart as if it were a sun behind my ribs. Every object in the room is outlined in movement. Potential. I reach out on instinct. Not with my hand, but with my mind.
A metal stylus on the table lifts, quivers, and floats toward me. My hand never moves.
I feel the air shift, my breath becoming part of some larger mechanism. The Force? No.
Not the Force.
Synthetic and constructed. Created by science.
But the elation does not last.
My head jerks like a circuit misfiring. Heat surges in my spine. My knees give out. I hit the floor. Somewhere distant, I hear the stylus clang to the ground. A pressure behind my eyes begins to build, like someone is trying to squeeze a galaxy through my skull.
Blood touches my lips. My nose? Yes, it is bleeding. I reach for a towel but cannot feel my hands.
Then there is stillness.
As quickly as it came, the pressure fades. I find myself lying on the floor staring at the sterile lights above again. But everything is different now.
I feel... present. Not connected to the Force. But parallel to it. I am not it's vessel.
I am its echo.
---
They lie.
The hardest part was preparing for the injection.
The lights above me hum with a sterile indifference as I sit alone in my new lab. Not one of the decoys with leaky ceilings or half-scorched walls. This is real, funded, safe and mine. For now.
I roll the syringe between my fingers. The liquid inside seems almost alive. A deep hue with threads of shifting light, looking like liquid thought. It is both beautiful and terrifying.
There will be no more test subjects. And no more biomass proxies. If I want to create a bridge to the Force... it has to be crossed in flesh and mind.
My own.
I press the injector to the crook of my arm. I do not hesitate. Pain flares briefly, then vanishes into a sense of cold.
I wait for some type of reaction. At first there is nothing. My heartbeat echoes in my throat. My hands tremble, but that could just be adrenaline. I look around the lab, and --
The lights flicker.
No. Not flicker they ripple.
Reality bends.
My senses bloom. I hear the whine of a power conduit two floors down. Feel the pulsing warmth of my own heart as if it were a sun behind my ribs. Every object in the room is outlined in movement. Potential. I reach out on instinct. Not with my hand, but with my mind.
A metal stylus on the table lifts, quivers, and floats toward me. My hand never moves.
I feel the air shift, my breath becoming part of some larger mechanism. The Force? No.
Not the Force.
Synthetic and constructed. Created by science.
But the elation does not last.
My head jerks like a circuit misfiring. Heat surges in my spine. My knees give out. I hit the floor. Somewhere distant, I hear the stylus clang to the ground. A pressure behind my eyes begins to build, like someone is trying to squeeze a galaxy through my skull.
Blood touches my lips. My nose? Yes, it is bleeding. I reach for a towel but cannot feel my hands.
Then there is stillness.
As quickly as it came, the pressure fades. I find myself lying on the floor staring at the sterile lights above again. But everything is different now.
I feel... present. Not connected to the Force. But parallel to it. I am not it's vessel.
I am its echo.
---
Field Log - Entry 009
Catalyst Field Log - Entry 009: Subjective Manifestations Post-Serum Trial
Date: [REDACTED]
Location: [Private Suite, Undisclosed System]
Subject: L. T. Val — Self
Version: Catalyst Serum v1.7
Administration Method: Intradermal microfusion, 48 hours prior
Ambient Conditions: Elevated cortisol, urban environment, active surveillance suspected
Observations:
I encountered an anomalous time-perception event at approximately 15:10 local time while seated at the bar of a high-end establishment. Visual and auditory input appeared to lag around me. Two patrons - one inebriated - lost their balance and staggered in my direction. While their motion appeared heavily decelerated, my own reaction time remained unaffected.
I sidestepped them. As their momentum resumed normal speed, I collided with a bystander — later revealed to be a covert observer tracking me for an undisclosed employer. This temporal discrepancy lasted for perhaps 3 seconds. Upon physical contact with the observer, symptoms presented:
The man declined to state who he was working for. He speaks with careful detachment. Emotionally muted. My colorblindness makes certain identifications difficult, but based on bone structure and behavior, I suspect he may be Chiss or a particularly restrained Zeltron. I find this ambiguity... irritating.
Second Manifestation:
Roughly one hour post-incident. I returned to my suite with the observer under the guise of further questioning him. Once alone, I retreated to my private chambers. Emotional suppression was difficult. I felt the pressure of being constantly monitored, hunted, and every move scrutinized by people who want something from me. I exhaled sharply, more in frustration than anything else.
What followed could be best described as a shockwave. Unseen but felt. A kinetic ripple that originated from my chest and spread outward in a low-frequency pulse. Vases, perfume bottles, and other unsecured objects within a two-meter radius fell or shattered. I lost consciousness shortly thereafter.
The observer revived me and remained with me, acting more like a medic than a spy. My pulse was irregular. Respiration shallow. Memory of the event is a little patchy.
He did not attempt to flee, instead he secured me some food to regain lost energy.
Preliminary Analysis:
The synthetic Force appears to be reactive - less like an overlay of control, and more akin to pressure building in a sealed vessel. Emotional states and environmental tension seem to act as catalysts. I am not in control. Not yet.
Unlike traditional Force users, whose sensitivity grows gradually and often under mentorship, I am experiencing an accelerated, unnatural awakening without precedent or precedent-based coping mechanisms.
I am alone in this.
And someone has taken notice.
Balun Dashiell Mr. Usher Diarch Reign Diarch Rellik
Date: [REDACTED]
Location: [Private Suite, Undisclosed System]
Subject: L. T. Val — Self
Version: Catalyst Serum v1.7
Administration Method: Intradermal microfusion, 48 hours prior
Ambient Conditions: Elevated cortisol, urban environment, active surveillance suspected
Observations:
I encountered an anomalous time-perception event at approximately 15:10 local time while seated at the bar of a high-end establishment. Visual and auditory input appeared to lag around me. Two patrons - one inebriated - lost their balance and staggered in my direction. While their motion appeared heavily decelerated, my own reaction time remained unaffected.
I sidestepped them. As their momentum resumed normal speed, I collided with a bystander — later revealed to be a covert observer tracking me for an undisclosed employer. This temporal discrepancy lasted for perhaps 3 seconds. Upon physical contact with the observer, symptoms presented:
- Disorientation
- Vertigo
- Moderate epistaxis (right nostril)
- Temporary tinnitus
The man declined to state who he was working for. He speaks with careful detachment. Emotionally muted. My colorblindness makes certain identifications difficult, but based on bone structure and behavior, I suspect he may be Chiss or a particularly restrained Zeltron. I find this ambiguity... irritating.
Second Manifestation:
Roughly one hour post-incident. I returned to my suite with the observer under the guise of further questioning him. Once alone, I retreated to my private chambers. Emotional suppression was difficult. I felt the pressure of being constantly monitored, hunted, and every move scrutinized by people who want something from me. I exhaled sharply, more in frustration than anything else.
What followed could be best described as a shockwave. Unseen but felt. A kinetic ripple that originated from my chest and spread outward in a low-frequency pulse. Vases, perfume bottles, and other unsecured objects within a two-meter radius fell or shattered. I lost consciousness shortly thereafter.
The observer revived me and remained with me, acting more like a medic than a spy. My pulse was irregular. Respiration shallow. Memory of the event is a little patchy.
He did not attempt to flee, instead he secured me some food to regain lost energy.
Preliminary Analysis:
The synthetic Force appears to be reactive - less like an overlay of control, and more akin to pressure building in a sealed vessel. Emotional states and environmental tension seem to act as catalysts. I am not in control. Not yet.
Unlike traditional Force users, whose sensitivity grows gradually and often under mentorship, I am experiencing an accelerated, unnatural awakening without precedent or precedent-based coping mechanisms.
I am alone in this.
And someone has taken notice.
Balun Dashiell Mr. Usher Diarch Reign Diarch Rellik
