I really wasn't sure if the pervasive energy field, known as The Force, was still with me. I mean, I'd kept up with the ancient teachings in my vintage copy of The Jedi Path. Hell, up until the end of February, I even meditated every evening before indulgin' in any type of leisure. Still, my world unravelled back in March, and in a totally messed up way...

    To show support, Chon 'n' Sarah had bought me numerous holo-cans of Red Bison. Offered to improve my Manji Warrior rankin' on Crimson Cast. Vowed to perk me up by enterin' me in holosole tournaments at the Asian Games Village. And even challenged me to more dance-offs on the gnarly Ninja Star. But little motivated me and I'd spent most of my spare time slowly driftin' around Běijīng with my hoverboard in Doc Mode. It seemed to be the only thing that brought, balance, and allowed me to avoid my Geek Girl...

    Disturbance continued into April.

    I was a real short ass, but pushin' out a thousand push-ups a day helped to maintain my strength. Naturally, with The Medical in mind, I passed my physical when it came around and had left The Bird's Nest with my medication in-tow.

    Chon had bossed it too.

    And Sarah, only just.

    When the fifth calendar month came around, I did notice a slight energy shift towards The Light Side... By 'May The Fourth', I felt like I'd adjusted to the medication. More so, that my Midi-chlorians had accepted the foreign molecules infiltratin' us, knowin' they were worth absorbin' in prep for our, ascension.

    But for two other reasons, The Dark Side still tipped the invisible scales...

    First, I still didn't know why 'Asajj Ventress', aka 'The Pink Lady', had messed me up in New Japan. Neither did Xen, who was still tryin' to figure out why.

    Second, I knew I needed to tell Michelle what my orbital plans were, now that it was public knowledge I'd be ridin' 'Han Solo' and without my 'Princess Leia'.

    It was June now.

    June 1st, to be specific, and I'd returned to my CMC to start with the intensive trials.

    So had Chon 'n' Sarah.

    Days 1-4 planned on introducin' the three of us to Waterpool - the first trial which'd test our neutral buoyancy. And after a boring induction, we were pushed into Habitat Suits which were set to Aqua Mode. Not long after that, we were hooked up to rigs, then dunked. As we submerged even deeper, I thought of Chon, myself and Sarah as Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and Princess Amidala, descendin' towards the Gungan City. This was until troublin' thoughts of Michelle swallowed me up like a, Gooberfish. Stuck in a watery daze, I finally pored over her. Over me. Over us... In and around the awkwardness 'n' upset, I knew she'd have probably thought, 'Will San Diego's new Cosmic Convention be enough to keep Mikey's manly yearnings at bay?

    And if not, will he eventually seek out a new apprentice?'

    If I'm really honest, I really wasn't sure, and I couldn't lie to myself, or Michelle's astral projection. Female temptation of The Dark Side did pull at me.

    After all, could we really do, 'looong distance'?

    Still, I would try my ultra best to stick to The Code of The Jedi Path, and honor my 'Puddin'' durin' our, saga. In the meantime, I'd keep things civil while aspects of The Contingency continued to play out.

    After four days in the unforgivin' water, we'd moved onto the final trial, Centrifuge.

    Our CMC had been split into numerous sections and there were two Nastars in ours. Aside from us three, there were seven others in our group, and I was first in line. Initially, I'd looked forward to the Nastar experience. But as I nestled into the Arm Pod and waited for the Seatstream to cinch me in, Michelle's absence sent me into another troublin' trance. This was until Chon 'n' Sarah linked me in a three-way mind-message and snapped me out of it.

    Chon spoke first.

    'Big guy, I know you're down, but things are about to pick up...'

    My response was glum.

    'Really? I doubt it bro.'

    Then Sarah elevated my curiosity.

    '...Mikey, if you look over your shoulder, you'll see why...'

    After a slumpin' huff, I lifted my head, turned my neck, then beamed! Amazingly, I witnessed one of Earth's greatest minds headin' in our direction! What was more intriguing was the white-coated troupe that strutted in close behind him! For the record, the man wasn't only CEO of Virgin Galactica - he was a second-generation Elder! To stop myself from freakin' out anymore, I blinked three times. The optical command activated my iLenses, and I was quick to have my A.I.D.A drop in a meditation sightscreen. With my breathin' and pulse comin' under control, I deactivated the sightscreen moments later. Then, as my eyes adjusted back, amplified audio sounded all around. The Elder had come within earshot. "Eligible Patrons," he said through an iMic pinned to his chest, "welcome to your designated CMC. Now for those who do not recognize my wrinkled face, I am Sam Branson, and apparently, my father's doppelganger.

    "On a separate note, these six folks standing alongside me are analytical representatives of FAI - the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale - and their presence is uniform here, the same as in the many other CMC's across The Coalition. On behalf of the world's auditable history books, they will be monitoring any progress made here as we continue on with The Medical."

    As if I wasn't awestruck enough, Sam moved even closer to me. In fact, he was within touchin' distance of my Seatstream, and 'lo and behold', he moved past that threshold and did touch me! His aged hand rested on my shoulder and he offered a cheeky smile before turning and talkin' again! "Now, for likes of Mr. Michael Chang, here...what he's about to undertake won't be too grueling... This is because he has previously traveled across Earth in our VG sub-orbital crafts. Not only that, but due to his cool composure and thrill-seeking attitude, he is the exception. Mikey has one of the highest G-Force tolerance levels ever documented in our basic training."

    Yeah. I couldn't actually believe what I was hearin'.

    Sam went on. "Therefore, it is our collective hope that you nine others, and the hundreds of thousands elsewhere, will put in the work needed to meet a similar standard. In closing, the need for Gravity Adjustment is very important, so please take my final words as a worthwhile reminder...

    "In a Freighter or Star Shuttle emergency, your survival could depend on mastering the Anti-G Straining Maneuver. If you do not, then you will likely succumb to the world-famous 'G-Loc', lose consciousness due to poor breathing technique, and potentially die in our new and hazardous environment. Especially as onboard help may not arrive in time. To prevent G-Loc, you must learn to execute short bursts of deep breathing, alongside the tensing of your lower body - the legs, the thighs, and the buttocks - no Forest Gump jokes, please..." I found it funny, and while the old man took a breathable pause, a geeky snort did escape me. "...Sensibly, abdomen muscles must also be tensed. All of which can be assisted by lifting yourself an inch off of your seat, thus, stopping vital oxygenated blood from leaving your torso and the oxygen-dependent brain.

    "'But Sam', I hear you say, 'I thought we get issued with Habitat Suits? I thought they will prevent us from having to do the lower body muscle work?'

    "Well, folks, you will," Sam continued. "During the maiden takeoff and re-entry of The Wealth Core and Freighters, Habitat Suits will be worn. Their water tube features will keep you cool. Meanwhile, their inflatable bladder-pouches will help to keep your blood, torso-bound. But as I mentioned a moment ago, if gravity is ever lost and Star Shuttles jettisoned, they could oscillate considerably, especially in the turbulence of our aggressive troposphere. Please understand that the shuttles will be capable of moving at three times the speed of sound. Therefore, this training is something we must sensibly undertake."

    Even though I wasn't phased by what The Elder was sayin', I could clearly see that Chon 'n' Sarah, were. Nevertheless, I was forced to take my eyes off my compadres. Sam hadn't quite finished... "Folks, with that technical stuff aside, I would like to conclude by wishing you all a happy World Environment Day 2049 - Sam Branson - over and out." A second later, The Elder and his team of aero auditors, disappeared.

    For me, the astonished quiet that followed was a good thing, as I was left to sit and ponder. Dozens of thoughts flashed through me, but one stood out. It was a professional and transitional idea on what I could do, once orbital. After all, I'd need a new distraction from Michelle, especially if I wanted to remain faithful and celibate. Not only that, but I didn't wanna be a Visual Holo-Engineer forever, and I knew Chon 'n' Sarah would understand. With this the case, I began forward-thinkin' like, Chancellor Palpatine. I closed my eyes, then made an important link. And one in which I hoped might pay off, sooner rather than later.