The answer to the inmates' precognitive warnings was simple, subtle action within the group. I could essentially do anything I wanted with the station's systems as long as I continued to appear, outwardly, to be nothing more than a true, trapped inmate.
The visions they received showed things that might happen, but in a way that if a person doesn't stand out didn't draw direct attention to themselves as the anomaly then the mastermind would remain a complete mystery. I took heavy influence from the only Force user to have completely fooled the entire Republic, gaining political power right under the noses of the best Jedi for years a masterclass in subtle, pervasive deception.
Some of the inmates rightly thought I was the one able to leave my cell because of the fantastic snacks I was able to produce. I curved their nascent mistrust by "purposely on accident" showing them a cleaning droid depositing contraband food directly into my cell's delivery slot, implying that I was simply bribing or hacking the droids, rather than running the entire facility.
It wasn't enough for the inmates to completely trust me, but it was enough to divert their suspicion and keep their mouths shut. Or perhaps it wasn't enough; it was hard to say given their paranoid nature.
"Look at this, you pathetic fool," I muttered loudly, as a cleaning bot delivered a platter of fried noodles to my cell. "The key is just a simple priority override in their task matrix. They're just droids."
I kept my head down, used the system to move myself to a different, less-observed cell, and continued my life like this for a few more months.
But life had become profoundly tedious. Ever since the precognitive visions started to flood the inmates about a potentially freed prisoner, their natural suspicion turned them from grumpy, but cooperative trading partners into closed-off, suspicious, and aggressive menaces who refused to share their knowledge. Force training became slow again, and even the small amount of competitive entertainment that ping pong offered was quickly stifled by rampant mistrust.
I didn't want to stay anymore. I was perfectly safe because of the nature of this prison, but it severely lacked the spark of joy and dynamism that life required. We existed, but it was an empty, purposeless life. The Jedi could be so very cruel in their passive indifference. Perhaps it was just me, as I steadfastly refused to waste my time on meditation.
And so, I planned my escape. I had to wait patiently for the next designated supply and new inmate transport ship, but that gave me plenty of time to prepare the highly specific gases I needed.
When the transport finally arrived, I initiated my plan and gassed the entire ship. It was astonishingly easy.
"Security Override: Master Level," I whispered into my repurposed holo-bracelet, standing in the transfer corridor. "Release anesthetic agent Alpha-7 into docking bay 4 and Transport Hull. Cycle air once all personnel are confirmed unconscious."
With the Jedi Master completely high as a kite in his quarters due to my chronic gas poisoning, the only remaining worry was the transport ship, which was staffed entirely with droids and that was never going to be a problem for me. The new inmates found themselves being gassed, carried to their cells, and unceremoniously imprisoned. None of them even saw me enter the ship's docking bay.
I left the transport ship, initiated a full data wipe of the ship's logs concerning my passage, and then hopped to several different civilian ships.
I traveled deep into the Outer Rim and backwater planets, each time making sure I changed my facial features and basic appearance using simple Force illusions. I wasn't heading in any one direction; I just floated around, making sure that my ass was completely covered. Only after my fifteenth backwater planet did I finally allow myself to put some focused thought into my future actions.
I made the next step of my life super simple for myself. I never again wanted to be controlled or imprisoned, as the Jedi had done. What would I need to prevent that? Power. Not just personal power, but a deterrent. What I needed was a terrifying threat that destroyed the entire game board if ever I was attacked. A nuclear table flip. Something that would instantly dissuade an attack because it would guarantee mutual destruction.
I didn't know how to achieve that specific level of existential deterrent, but I knew I could work toward maximum personal power. The Jedi and the Brotherhood of Darkness weren't the only Force users out there, and so I began to search for the hidden, fringe groups.
My journey became a spiritual and tactical tour of the galaxy's forgotten Force traditions:
The Dagoyan Order: I learned how to use the Force passively and deepen my roots with it. I had personally seen a Master punch through dark steel, though I wasn't close enough to verify if it was a true display of physical Force enhancement or some Dagoyan trickery.
"The Force is a river, Initiate," a Master told me, "don't try to swim against it. Let it carry you. The deeper your roots, the stronger your strike."
"I prefer steering the river, Master," I replied, which earned me a stern look, but the lesson was taken.
The Matukai: They were like martial monks who primarily used the Force to sense their surroundings and boast themselves physically. They also made great bread. I found their physical augmentation techniques fascinating, a perfect counter to the Jedi's lack of physical specialization.
The Fallanassi: This tradition had incredible control over illusions. They even had a secret, powerful illusion ability that projected an image across the galaxy at the cost of the user's life force. I was smart enough not to learn that particular technique, but their control over subtle mental manipulation was invaluable.
"What is real, Ban Bailo," one Fallanassi adept asked me, their face flickering like a holo-projection, "if we can convince you otherwise?"
"The tax bill," I instantly replied. "That's always real." They did not appreciate my humor, but their training was essential.
The Zeison Sha: They hated the Jedi, which was fine by me. They were amazing with throwing weapons such as disc blades. Each one thrown would curve and twist until it found its mark with the help of focused telekinesis.
"The blade is an extension of your mind," their warrior instructor explained, watching me practice. "Let the Force draw the blood, Initiate."
I would have stayed with them longer, but they were isolationists who lived on an impossibly inhospitable, frigid planet. The cold was unbearable, even with my enhanced metabolism.
The Aing-Tii: I eventually met up with one of their anti-slave ships and tried to learn some of their incredible abilities. They had powers that left me dumbfounded. Their ships were organic, powered entirely by the Force, and they could travel instantly between two points it was literally teleportation. It took a lot of gifts, presents, and generous promises to learn just a little of their "Flow-Walking" principles, and the training ended abruptly when they decided they had enough of me.
There were many groups of Force sensitives out in space, but not all of them were successful, and yet there was always something valuable to learn about the Force from them. My goal was simple: distill the greatest powers of all traditions into my personal arsenal, becoming a synthesis of unstoppable power and untraceable deception.