Atop the roof of the Wol Mansion, situated deep within the majestic mountains and towering forests of Beta Novi 6, stands a lone figure clad in a hooded black robe over a black body glove. This figure is none other then Lon Wol, the master of this domain. Everything is not as it seems here though, for Lon is a man forever troubled by his past in much the same manner as his friend and mentor, Valaryc Versai. Lon’s haunting memories center around several events in his life, the death of his family, his near death at the hands of a power mad Imperial general named Turan Admas, and his fall to the dark side at the hands of the same faction hired to kill his family. True, Valaryc Versai and Lon’s love interest, the lovely Zeltron named Xola Neesan had dragged him back from eternal damnation in the dark side. But, the aftermass still remained in the form of the brand seared into the flesh of his right palm and the deep psychological wounds he had incurred through his actions.

The wind whips around Lon, causing his robe to billow behind him like the wings of a bat. His blond hair fluttering as he faces into the gusts, Lon’s deep green eyes narrow in contemplation over his lot in life. As of late, his stress levels were skyrocketing. Business deals for WOL ENTERPRISES had fallen through because of underhanded political motives, he had run afoul of a rogue faction calling itself the Jedi Praxeum, The Black Hsiss Order was rumored to be rebuilding itself from the ruins Valaryc had left behind in his quest to redeem Lon to the Light, the nightmares Lon thought he had finally put behind him where returning with a vengeance. And somewhere out there, Turan Admas, the man responsible for so much of the pain Lon felt, was alive and well. Add to that the fact that Lon felt largely unappreciated for his hard work on behalf of the Republic. All these things were threatening to push him past the breaking point. The strain is clearly evident on Lon’s face. Not even the tender embraces of his loving wife Xola could comfort him at this point. It almost seemed to Lon that the darkness was closing in on him again much as it had during those fateful days when he fell in with the Black Hsiss Order, those dark side mercenaries who had slaughtered his family while attempting to assassinate him several months prior to his joining them. Ironic, in Lon’s opinion, that the dark side would lead him to follow the same people who had taken so much from him. Watching the rays of light fade out over the mountains as the sun sets, Lon speaks out loud seeking an answer, any answer to the questions in his mind.

“Why, why must I suffer as I do? Haven’t I paid my dues? Haven’t I endured enough? What do you want with me?!”

The wind seems to hiss a reply as it whips around Lon. In his current state, he doesn’t know if he is actually hearing the voices or if he is only hearing them within his tortured mind.

“What do I want?....hehe...I want you. You, Lon Wol...Or rather..you need me. Been a long time Lon. I was starting to wonder when you’d be back.”

Lon’s eyes widen as realization floods through his tired mind. His dark side was calling to him. It had waited for just this moment, to tempt him while he was seemingly weak. Lon squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ward off the voice echoing through his skull. Lon was truly frightened now. Was Master Versai’s original assessment of him during his early training true? Was he truly a “reckless, unfocused young upstart bound for damnation in the dark side.”

“NO! I WON’T COME BACK! I HAVE NOTHING TO GAIN FROM YOU!...Everything that you promised me was a lie. The power you gave me couldn’t make up for the emptiness, the paranoia, the feeling of utter despair within my soul. Master Versai showed me the truth.”

The dark side answers Lon in mocking tones, goading him. “Master Versai showed me the truth....PLEASE!!!... He fears you Lon. He’s jealous. And here’s a thought for you...why did he abandon you? Where is he now? Hmmm? Think about it for a minute. What do you have to gain by following him? Heroes such as you and he strive to be will be cast aside in the end. Better for you to embrace your true potential....”

“SHUT UP! I WILL NOT LISTEN TO YOUR POINTLESS ARGUMENTS! I WILL NOT FALL TO YOU AGAIN. GO AWAY!” Lon waits for the voice to respond and when it doesn’t, he knows he has won the battle for now. Spinning on his heel, Lon turns and heads for the turbolift leading back into the lower levels of the Mansion. As the doors to the lift hiss shut behind him, Lon enters the location he wishes to proceed to. GROUND FLOOR. As the lift travels down, Lon leans against the rear wall, arms folded across his chest. What would he have to do in order to rid himself of the demons returning to haunt him? How would he end the torment he endured? Suddenly, like a burst of light, he has his answer. Go back...back to where it all started. Face down his demons once and for all. Was he strong enough for the task at hand? Time would tell, Lon decided. He was determined to end the sleepless nights.

As the lift opens on the ground floor of Wol Mansion, Lon strides into the main hallway and takes a right about halfway down the hall. Here, the turbolift shaft would lead to the sublevels of the Mansion, where Lon had his workshop, his arsenals and battle wardrobes, and trophy rooms. Entering the lift, Lon presses the desired destination. The lift speeds downwards and a short while later opens on the floor to his weapons lockers and battle wardrobe. Exiting the lift, Lon strides towards a cylinder shaped wardrobe at the end of the room. Pressing his hand against the DNA scanner, the door swivels around, revealing racks containing the various outfits he had worn during his adventures so far. Rummaging through the racks, Lon finds a package containing a uniform he had vowed never to wear again, that of the Black Hsiss Order. Tossing it to the floor, Lon continues his rummaging, pulling out a box labeled PROTOTYPE BODY ARMOR-MAVERICK ARMS RESEARCH DIVISION. This was the only known sample of the prototype armor Lon had developed for his own use from blueprints found inside an abandoned Imperial test laboratory. Carrying the box over to a bench, Lon sits it down and opens the lid, pulling out the armor he intends to wear for the quest he was about to undertake. Shrugging off his robe, Lon lays it on the bench. He then removes the belt holding his two lightsabers, carefully laying it all atop his robe. Bending down, he pulls off his knee high boots. The armor had its own temperature control settings, there was no need for him to wear the body glove which is a holdover from his Imperial days. He then begins the process of putting on his armor.

Description of armor here.....

After pulling his boots back on, Lon stands to place his belt around his waist. He pauses for a moment, looking at the two weapons hanging from either hip. On his right hip, the saber crafted under the guidance of Master Versai to replace the loss of his first saber. The weapon was only a year or so old, yet it looked ancient and noble in its styling. Inspired by Obi Wan Kenobi’s lightsaber which was in Master Versai’s possession, Lon had blended aspects from it along with his own personal embellishments. The emitter, styled after the one on Obi Wan’s saber, carried Lon’s personal embellishments in the forms of cutouts spaced along the metal. The hilt of the saber featured cutouts of a robed figure at each end. This was symbolic of Lon having yet to take form under Master Versai’s guidance. Also as an added embellishment to this saber, Lon had styled the handgrips after those he had once seen on a Jedi lightsaber displayed in an Imperial War Museum and placed a polished blue gemstone at the butt end of the saber behind the power cell. Lon was proud of this saber, which emitted a green blade when called upon, for it was his own unique creation as well as proof of his understanding of lightsaber construction.

From his left hip hung a much more ancient looking saber then the one on his right. And like the other saber, this own had its own history. This saber was the first one Lon had ever used. Passed down to him by his father, Zo’nel Wol, the saber had been used long before Zo’nel was old enough to wield it on his own. This saber had once belonged to Lon’s grandfather, a Jedi Knight named Chen Wol, before being passed down to Zo’nel and ultimately to Lon. The saber’s construction wasn’t as elaborate as Lon’s newer one, but it was sturdy, having held up to many a battle. In styling it bore a slight resemblance to the saber carried by Obi Wan Kenobi during the events leading up to the Clone Wars. Having been taken by Turan Admas as a trophy following his attack on Lon, in which he was left for dead at the bottom of a ravine, the saber had a long and twisted route to find its way back to its rightful owner. Many times Lon has called on this ancient, blue bladed weapon in combat, wielding it for the cause of right.

Lon puts on his faded black Jedi robe and stands in front of the mirror to give himself a once over. Nodding in approval, he goes back over to his wardrobe and pulls out a pair of gloves which had been given to him by Master Versai as a symbol of his connection to him. The black leather gloves bear the Versai Crest on the backs of them. The symbol had the dual effect of either helping Lon avoid trouble or drawing it to him like a magnet. Many times Lon had to fight those who thought that eliminating him would strike a blow to Val. Other times, the mere sight of the Versai Crest was enough to send the would be attacker scrambling for cover. Lon also enjoyed the benefits the gloves gave him when he encountered Val’s numerous allies or any of the number of people whom his mentor had aided over the years. Lon smiles as he recalls Val’s cure for the inflated ego he developed from all the praise he had received. Val’s exact words echo in Lon’s head as he remembers how he would be forced to face the most dreaded machine in Val’s training arsenal, a robotic replica of Crymson Vachon.

“Lon, time for a little trip to the Powerhouse. CrymsonBot is waiting for you....”