Past, Present, Future [Solomon]

[Palara Iscandar]

Generis, Atravis System, 9.---

"This place is beautiful," he said quietly, staring out from the landing pad at the vista before him. Before, the planet had been a tourist destination of the rich and adventurous. Now, so soon after all out war and the current pervading fear of planet destroying missiles, it was quiet, and out of the way, rarely frequented. She knew that's what he enjoyed the most; peace and quiet, little urbanisation, and a freighter hold of cargo to deliver.

"Is she...?" she trailed off, glancing over at her companion. He shook his head with a grin.

"She's asleep," he said. "I'll wake her and we have plenty of deliveries to make, so you can do whatever's so important here without us bothering you."

"You would not...!" she started, but trailed off, smiling at how he whistled tunelessly.

"You're preoccupied about somethin'," he said. She opened her mouth to speak, but he shook his head with an understanding smile. "I ain't going to ask what it is. As long as it won't bring harm to my ship or... her, I don't need to know."

She found herself looking at the man agog. He reached over and gently pushed up on her chin, closing her open mouth.

"You'll let flies in," he said chuckling.

-------------------------------------------

She'd spent the better part of the day simply looking up possible locations on city maps and atlases. The feeling she'd last felt in his presence was even stronger now. Based on what she remembered of him, she assumed he'd be out of the way. News on the destruction of a cathedral had caught her eye, and she knew he had been a part of it. The cathedral had been out in the middle of nowhere, in the steep mountains. It made sense then, that he'd be out there too.

She had been waiting for him when he returned from his deliveries. He had made a good amount of money and was in a good mood, and so agreed to shuttle her to the out of the way monasteries she'd circled. In his ship, the trip was cut from hours to minutes. First one, then the next, and the next... all held no sign of him. But the third to last one, farthest out from the cities on the planet, some acres of farmland around it suddenly stood out to her.

Her companion landed the ship by a large barn, and a group of robed monks approached, some surly, but others simply serenely curious.

She stood and raced out to the entrance ramp to the ship, jumping it to save some time.

"I am lookeenk for a man," she gasped to the amused human. "'E eez tall, and dark of skeen. 'is 'ead eez shaved —"

"Ah," the monk said quietly, stopping her words as they tripped out of her mouth. "You are looking for Brother Solomon."

She nodded.

The monk smiled, and gestured for her to follow him. She began to follow, but stopped and turned around, remembering her companion.

"Oh don't mind me," he said airily, standing on the entrance ramp with his young Togrutan mechanic at his side. "I'll just admire the scenery."

She smiled and turned back to the monk, who led her from the farmland up a well cared for gravel path to an ancient stone cathedral-like monastery. Ivy crawled up the walls, in some places completely blocking from sight the stone beneath it. He pushed open the huge double doors, and she followed him into a cavernous foyer, with simple yet elegant staircases hewn from the rock leading up to a second floor and a balcony. At the far end of the foyer was a dais with what she assumed was an altar of some kind. There were no benches or seats around at all.

"This way," the monk said, and she followed him up a staircase and into one of the wings of the monastery. "Please be as quiet as possible. Our cells are small, and many are praying or sleeping."

He stopped at a cell door, and knocked quietly.

"Brother Solomon?" he called into the door. "You have a guest."

[Rev Solomon]

But my delight is in the law of the LORD, and on His word do I meditate day and night...

Not since the days after the Purge, when his violent descent into darkness had led him to crash-land on the surface of Generis, when the brothers and sisters of the Faith had first taken him in and healed his wounds, had Reverend Solomon been fortunate enough to spend so much time in focused meditation. He meditated on the words of the Book, on the will of the Force, and, more perilously, on the duel he had fought with Darth Acera in the Cathedral of Stars. Each time he revisited that night was exhausting - not because of the horrors of battle or because of the grievous injuries he had sustained, but because of the oppressive, unrelenting presence of the Dark Side. It was there in Acera's lilting voice, in her curled lips, in the twisted images of the padawans she'd slaughtered, in the madness and rage that had fueled her onslaught against him. But he returned to it, again and again, all for that moment on the rooftop when he had sensed something else, something hidden, buried deep within her like a flower going to seed in lifeless soil.

The people who walk in darkness will see a great light.

Brother Zacharias's voice shook him from his meditations as if out of a dream, and when he opened his eyes he was almost surprised to find himself not on a rain-battered rooftop but in a small, stone cell with a folding cot, a short, wooden reading table, and a basin full of cool, clear water. He passed his hand over the lantern on the edge of the table, and the light inside flared up to fill the room. Then he rose from his stool and unfolded his long, lean frame, which was missing a few parts. He'd traded his long, nerfskin coat for an unassuming brown habit tied around his middle with a cord belt; his old clothes along with his other effects were safely stored in the little chest beneath his cot.

Solomon took a deep breath to compose himself, then turned and lifted the latch on his door using the remaining fingers on his left hand. What he saw on the other side filled him with wonder.

"Well, bless my soul." He stared in unguarded shock for a moment, and then a moon-bright grin spread across his face. "I knew you'd find me if you sought me out, but I never figured on seeing you here."

[Palara Iscandar]

Palara had to restrain her own gasp of shock. The tall man had lost his right arm, and fingers on his left hand.

"I knew you were 'ere," she said quietly. "When we landed, I could feel your presence in ze city."

She felt, all at once and without preparation, shy.

"I 'ad thought you dead," she murmured. "I saw you — your speerit. Zen you were gone, and all I 'ad left was Wei, and 'e is 'opeless, as lost as I am; what could 'e teach me? But zen I returned to Eemperial Centre, and zere was... zere was..."

Her rambling slowed to a trickle as she remembered Atrapes facing off against Wei. Maybe Wei might have won, but she hadn't been too hopeful, and she respected the drunk Jedi at the very least.She remembered feeling so cold, like all her warmth, all her strength was being sucked into Atrapes's cold hand around her neck.

She finally stopped, almost on the verge of tears.

"It seemed like ze Light 'ad abandoned me."

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon's smile melted away as she poured out her troubles like a flood. It was difficult to connect this frightened young woman with the grim Inquisitor who'd hounded him and dueled him on Tatooine, and who, with just as much ferocity and perseverance, had joined him in hunting a Force-adept murderer on Fell Astar. But none of that mattered anymore. She was here, and she was in need.

He sent a quiet glance to Brother Zacharias, who simply bowed his head, offered a gesture of blessing, and turned back down the corridor toward the foyer. Then he turned all his attention to the Twi'lek woman before him.

"I think you and I should take a walk," he said. "These cells are good for sleeping, good for praying, and terrible for just about anything else."

The Jedi preacher led her further down the corridor to a back door that opened into a verdant courtyard, where several of the monks lovingly tended gardens of flowers, and further up the slopes of the mountain where grapevines crawled over long rows of fencing, gently ripening in the sun. He turned down one of the rows and began inspecting the ties that bound the vines to their trellises, encouraging them to grow out of the shade of their neighbors' leaves and into the light.

"You've been surrounded by the Dark Side for most of your life," he said. "To stay true to the Light in such conditions takes a great deal of inner strength. But it also takes its toll."

[Palara Iscandar]

Simply walking around this place was enough to help stabilize her emotions. The life around her reverberated through the Force in such a clean way that she couldn't help but feel almost refreshed.

"Yet you and ozzer Jedi did much ze same for twenty years," Iscandar pointed out quietly. She snorted out a laugh and looked away at where the sun was only just beginning to set. "'ere I am, free for ze first time in... so long, and I lose my control. I don't understand myself."

She wiped her eyes, and let out a long breath. It seemed a lot of her anxiety was leaving as well.

"You know, if you need 'elp, I can... I can get you to someone 'oo can replace zem. Your arm, and fingers."

[Rev Solomon]

"You have a kind heart," Solomon replied with a smile. "I already have everything I need. For now, it's more important that I keep my head down."

He ambled on farther down the row, finding a vine that was straining at its binding. He reached to untie it with his remaining fingers, then gently lifted the vine free with the Force.

"You shouldn't sell yourself short. Not all the Jedi persevered. And those who did found other means of support. The Light Side isn't only found in temples and in meditation. You can find it in honest work, in family, or in doing a favor for a friend in need."

He released the vine and felt the energy flowing freely through its stem. Then he handed the length of nylon twine to Palara and pointed to the spot where it needed to be re-tied.

"What is it that you need, Inspector?"

[Palara Iscandar]

Palara took the twine and tied it, though her expression was one of frustration.

"I don't know," she said. "And, my loyalty... it seems my lack of direction was noticed, which is why I am able to be 'ere. It is as if..." she quieted, fearful of speaking of Atrapes even here, far from him, "'e is allowing me to find myself. Which is nonsense!"

She laughed mockingly, but it was a quiet one, subdued by her thoughts and confusion.

"I feel as if 'e is not worried about me losing my loyalty to 'im and ze Empire. After some of ze things I 'ave done, I was, zough."

She took another deep breath and exhaled slowly, hoping to calm enough to allow the Force to do its work. In that, and many other things besides, Atrapes was a more than competent instructor.

She glanced back down to the monastery, and beyond to the large barn where she could see the ship still parked. She couldn't see her companion or the little mechanic, though she knew they were down there somewhere. The scene was idyllic in the extreme, and she suddenly wished she had a holocam to capture it; she was sure he'd like it.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon watched as she turned to take in the panorama on the slopes below the vineyard - the weathered, tan stones of the monastery, the terraced fields of swaying grain and root vegetables, and beyond, the sweeping valleys full of old-growth pine forests and golden prairies, bordered on both sides by snow-capped mountains that faded into misty blue on the distant horizon. Generis was so large and so pure it made the galaxy shrink in one's mind, and if you stayed long enough it was easy to forget that you'd ever lived anywhere else. That was its power, and also its peril.

"Why don't we start from the beginning?" he said gently. "Tell me how you came into the service of the Empire."

[Palara Iscandar]

"Zat is a long story," she said. "Per'aps we could find somewhere to sit."

Solomon began to lead her to a bench, and Palara began to speak.

She wasn't planning on telling Solomon everything, but it started falling out of her mouth and soul without her meaning to, and she couldn't find the will to hold back more than little pieces. Her birth to a dancer woman in Hutt space, living as a slave girl before cutting out her chip herself and fleeing; finding herself at ten scrubbing dishes aboard a large tramp freighter in the Corporate Sector for three years; and then the pirate attack which had her sold to slavers once more, only this time the slavers transported her to Imperial space, and she learned how to dance, to be graceful, acrobatics, and lessons from older whores who told her how to get a man to climax with just her fingertips and a striptease. How at fifteen she'd been sold to an Imperial governor looking for a young alien girl to slake his lusts, and how for the next two years she served him and was abused by him in manners she couldn't speak of, even now.

She tried to keep her words brief, but the hopelessness of those years bled through. Her suicide attempts, the times she tried to run, only to be shocked into submission by a more advanced slave chip, the nights where she only emptied herself of everything, making herself hollow so it wouldn't hurt so much when the governor would enter her room and she would strip for him.

She spoke of Atrapes, the Inquisitor, who had come to question the governor on something unrelated to her. She told of his disregard, how he used the Force to find her, and spoke of the hate she held for the man being a beacon for him. She spoke of how odd it was for her when Atrapes didn't use her; he didn't make her take off her clothing, nor his, nor did he use her for physical or mental pleasure. When he left the first time, she had cried, because he had been the first to see a person of agency for themselves. When he returned, she told of how he took her into the governor's dining room, and how she killed the governor, his wife, and his children, who had tried to hide under the table with Atrapes's lightsaber. She spoke of Atrapes's words, how they seemed to be a mist that surrounded her mind, how his voice seemed to hypnotise and disarm her without a thought. She told of how she felt hollow after, but the sight of the governor, fear and pain on his face that she had caused and the fact that Atrapes himself removed the slave chip then and there made her feel like there was justice in the galaxy.

She said little of the Inquisition. Atrapes covered up her murders, trained her, and she took part in the tests for entry, a bloody free-for-all in a mock starship against seven others. All of them died, though she remained hidden for most of the battle. She was trained more, in interrogation, in infiltration, in observation. Atrapes taught her of the Light, as she abhorred the Dark after her killing of the governor and his family.

"I apologise," she said hoarsely after she had finished. The sky was darkening. "I did not mean to speak so much."

[Rev Solomon]

There was nothing to do but listen, in the manner of priests and ministers from time out of mind, as she bared her soul to him. In twenty-seven years as an itinerant preacher on Dantooine, Solomon had heard the confessions of murderers and rapists, the testimonies of children who had been tortured and molested by their relatives, the desperate pleas of the bereaved for comfort and sanity in the face of unspeakable suffering. It had taught him that there was evil in all corners of the galaxy that grieved the soul, and that it was a razor's edge between hardening your heart to such tales of sorrow and being washed away in the tides of despair.

As Palara finished her tale, Solomon's eyes were bright with moisture, but he quickly waved off her apology. "No... no, I asked. And your story deserves to be told. You've been denied a voice for far too long."

He gazed over the slopes as the firebugs began crawling out of their diurnal resting places, twinkling in the tall grass like tiny embers of golden red.

"You said you felt like your master wasn't worried about losing your loyalty. Are you worried about it?"

[Palara Iscandar]

Iscandar wiped her eyes quickly, and took Solomon's offered change of subject — a slight one, but better than dwelling on it — gratefully.

"I do not think it matters, but I do not feel as if I am loyal," she said quietly, her voice still slightly hoarse. "Not to ze Empire as it is. What 'e did for me — whatevair 'is reasons — I cannot forget, and I swore an oath. All 'e asked in return was zat I swear to serve ze Empire. After being zere for a year I realized zat it was odd 'e didn't ask me to serve 'im."

She followed Solomon's eyes and found herself taken by the muted beauty of the firebugs in the dark. The night was quiet, save for the odd insect call, though there was perhaps a cacophony of sounds further down the mountain.

She didn't say that even though she wasn't particularly loyal to the Empire, what she'd seen of the Alliance firsthand had not inspired her either. The chaos, disorganization and the plethora of voices all shouting for something left her somewhat nostalgic for the strict ordering and system of the Empire. She supposed she'd gotten used to it after serving it for years. It was part of the reason she'd stuck with the smuggler that had brought her into Alliance space; he wasn't fond of either, and though he quietly bucked the system he for the most part merely kept his head down and lived as best he could. She found it refreshing in a way, that all he cared about was finding enough money to free his mechanic's family from slavery, and following up on a rumour of a dead relative of his own.

"Ze Jedi are on Ossus," she said finally, casting Solomon a sidelong glance. She felt a bit empty now, but calm and collected, which was a relief after the emotional dips and dives she'd been experiencing since she'd been given this mission. "Will you stay 'ere, or will you join zem?"

[Rev Solomon]

"I hope to join them before long," Solomon replied. "But I have unfinished business to attend to first. I've been spending my time in prayer and meditation to prepare myself, so I can be sure I'll be ready this time."

He caught a questioning glance from Palara. His own face was grave.

"I discovered the truth behind the murders (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?22425-Silent-Songs&p=378654#post378654) we investigated on Fell Astar," he said. "The ones we weren't able to explain. A former Jedi, and a close friend of mine, has been corrupted by a powerful Sith lord. She murdered those adepts to accelerate her own descent into the Dark Side of the Force. We fought. She left me for dead and escaped."

[Palara Iscandar]

She remembered Fell Astar. The killer who'd hidden himself from her sight, and struck her while she looked for him.

"I would offer to 'elp you," she said slowly, looking at him in the darkening light. "But I 'ave a feeling zat you would not accept it."

Palara had a hard time believing that Solomon had lost to the woman he talking about; he had seemed implacable to her, almost unbeatable. But it would explain the ghost she'd seen back before facing Wei on Dantooine.

Perhaps, Palara mused to herself, it had never been her lot to be the one to defeat him. Was it her destiny to always be defeated?

She pushed such thoughts out of her head.

"At ze vairy least, let me ask my... companion if 'e would consent to taking you where you need to go, yes?"

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon smiled. "You have a kind heart. But the time is not yet right for me to leave. There's still much I have to learn before I can confront her again. I'll be stronger this time, because this time I will not be relying on strength."

He had to hold back laughter at the expression on her face - it wasn't his intention to mock her. "I know, it sounds like spiritualistic nonsense. I doubt I could fully put it in words. But I have faith that the will of the Force will be fulfilled."

[Palara Iscandar]

A kind heart, he'd said. She didn't believe it, but she also oddly enough trusted the Jedi beside her.

"Spiritualistic nonsense, maybe," she said, a trace of humor in her tone, "but it is nonsense I am not so quick to ignore, now."

She'd relied on her strength and will for so long, and with much to show for it, but still, she felt incomplete. Perhaps strength in weakness had a wisdom she couldn't fathom just yet.

She stood.

"What," she started, but stopped, before firming her resolve and asking the question she hadn't known she needed to ask until that moment.

"What if ze will of ze Force is not what you want?" she frowned, feeling the question clumsy and ill worded. "'ow do you align your will with ze Force? Did not ze Jedi do so before — before ze Empire?"

And look what happened then, she hadn't said. While she didn't believe she had a kind heart, she knew she wasn't cruel.

[Rev Solomon]

She didn't have to add the post-script. Solomon had walked that path many times before in his own thoughts.

"We tried to," he said. "But I think by and large, we lost sight of what the will of the Force is: to cherish and protect life in all its forms. We became so enamored with the greater good that we could no longer see what we were sacrificing in its name. Misery. Injustice. The Dark Side drew power from our weakness. In the end, we were so blinded that we stood by while an entire race of clones was bred to fight our battles for us. And out of our blindness came the instrument of our destruction."

He looked up to meet Palara's eyes from where he sat. "Even the wise may be led astray, Palara. But the will of the Force is not a puzzle to be solved. It's more like... like learning a dance."

The preacher accepted Palara's helping hand as he rose from his seat on the bench, and he towered over her in the waning light. "Your steps are clumsy at first. But over time, the music fills you, and you know it like your own heartbeat. You know which movements will fit the melody, and which ones are out of place. But there is freedom in the knowing. The steps are your own. And you take them with confidence, because you know you aren't dancing alone."

[Palara Iscandar]

"You are lucky," she said, after a moment digesting the explanation she'd been given. "I see two pat's... ah, avenues, before me. In one I serve ze Empire. I will die, and my death will be in service to tyranny. 'owever slowly it is changing — and it is changing — it is still tyranny. Per'aps I will be lucky, and it will not be an Imperial servant zat kills me because I am no longer useful, but a Jedi, or rebel on some far distant planet will end me. Ze ozzer, I abandon ze Empire. I die zen too, and much sooner. Mistrust and suspicion follow me; ze Jedi will not take me for I will lead ze Empire to zem before zey are ready, and ze Alliance will believe I am still an Imperial servant. I die alone, 'aving turned my back on ze only justice I 'ave ever seen in zis galaxy."

They had begun their walk back to the monastery. She had thought this through several times. It was almost freeing and crushing at the same time to realize she was destined to die. She'd long been aware that life and galaxy weren't fair. Her life was testament to that. She smiled.

"Could you per'aps teach me a bit of zat dance you were talking about? I could use it."

[Rev Solomon]

"You fear the paths you see laid out before you," Solomon replied. "That's only natural. But it doesn't mean those are the only paths you have to choose from. Others have left the Empire before you and found a home in the Alliance. And many loyal citizens of the Empire have gone on to lead long, prosperous lives of conscience. And even if both those doors are closed to you, there are still places in the galaxy where the Empire and the Alliance are nothing more than a whisper from the distant stars."

The sky deepened above them, and one by one the stars appeared, cold, clear, and impossibly far. Solomon reached down to grasp Palara's hand in his own.

"I hope for better things than exile for you, Palara. I don't know what shape they might take. But in all my travels, I have rarely encountered any sentient being with your inner strength. Without it, you would have been broken long ago.

"I never had a padawan learner of my own. But if you would stay with me a while longer, I would gladly teach you all I know about dancing in the Light."

[Palara Iscandar]

The next morning, she broke the news of her new plan with her companion.

He looked at her for a moment, and she could see the cynic's soul within grappling with its innate skepticism and disbelief. Finally, he nodded, though he didn't seem torn up about it.

"Shuvin's taken a liking to this place, and it seems so've you," he said when she finished. With a wave of his hand, though he had no control of the Force, he quieted her rejoinder. "Everyone's got something weighin' 'em down. How we choose to deal with it is our own business. But you've more'n paid your way, and made me some money too. A little break between jobs will be fine."

She wanted to say something, anything, but his grin silenced her again.

"Just because it don't give me any comfort means nothing. If you need to sit up here for a week or so praying and chanting whatever these monks pray'n sing, then you go on ahead. I'll take Shuvin back to the city and we'll have ourselves a grand old time fixin' up Alderaan and gettin' supplies and whatever else needs doing. You can reach me. If it ends up you need to stay longer, I'll give you my comm link identifier and you can shoot me a long range holocom."

He began to turn, but Palara moved in quickly and hugged him. It shocked him into paralysis, but after a moment he draped his arms lightly over her back. Even in comfort, he wanted to weigh on her as lightly as possible.

"Zank you," she said into his chest. "Ben."

Ben stepped away awkwardly and scratched the back of his head and scuffed the ground with one booted heel.

"S'nothin'," he said. He turned and made his way back to the ship. "I'll stay in touch. You do the same now, y'hear?"

A few moments later, the ship began hovering and turning in the direction of the city, and with a loud roar, the engines catapulted it into the sky. She felt more than heard Solomon's approach behind her, and she turned slightly.

"I am ready to dance in ze Light, Solomon," she said firmly. "But I warn you, zat I am not ze most pliant student."

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon smiled back at his saturnine pupil. "Let's take a walk."

The preacher led Palara away from the monastery grounds into the forest, where the air was cool and close in the shade of towering pine trees. A thick carpet of heather and dry needles crunched underfoot while, overhead, brightly colored songbirds announced their dominance over their arboreal fiefdoms and flitted nimbly from branch to branch. Something cried musically in the misty distance and was answered by its mate from the cover of a nearby cliff. It was a primordial world, unbounded by technology or time, scarcely marking the passage of two bipedal intruders.

They had walked some distance under the statuesque pines before Solomon spoke again. "If a child were to ask you, 'What is the Force,' what would you tell them?"

[Palara Iscandar]

"Ze Force is a field of energy zat is present t'roughout ze galaxy. Some are born able to manipulate it for different effects," the Knight answered simply. She glanced at the Jedi. "Why?"

[Rev Solomon]

"You've answered well," Solomon replied. "But you've also betrayed your biases. You've been trained to think of the Force as a tool to be bent to your will. With that mindset, the will of the Force, if it even exists, is nothing more than an obstacle to be overcome."

The path steadily climbed under their feet, but the trees clung indiscriminately to the uneven ground. "When did the Force begin? Where did it come from?"

[Palara Iscandar]

"I suppose it must have come into being when ze galaxy or ze universe was formed," the twilek said, manoeuvring over the roots and uneven ground gracefully. Her brow creased, and she made no attempt to hide her confusion and slight irritation at these basic, and to her, somewhat useless questions. "But does it matter if it was before time or only was after time began? It is, and zat is what is important, no?"

[Rev Solomon]

"Where a thing comes from can tell you much about what it is," Solomon replied, undeterred by her resistance. "And it matters very much whether the Force is simply an accidental feature of the galaxy or a fundamental truth of its existence. You can't understand interstellar physics without gravity. And you can't understand existence itself without the Force. It is the foundation of all that is, the reason that there is something instead of nothing."

He reached toward a slope full of loose stone and scree, and two rocks the size of fists floated into the air around his outstretched hand. "This is the Unifying Force, which binds matter and energy, even space and time, into their present forms. It is neither Light nor Dark, but it simply is. In it, all things have their destiny, and all things must come to an end." He allowed the rocks to drop to the ground, and they rolled a short way down the slope and came to rest.

[Palara Iscandar]

The Knight to be frowned, considering Solomon's description. If she was understanding him correctly, she'd been well acquainted with the Unifying Force for some time.

"Zen ze Force was before time," she said, still not quite comprehending the importance the preacher was placing on its beginnings. "And ze Force orders ze universe?"

[Rev Solomon]

"Yes," Solomon replied. "It was there when the universe began, and it will be there when the universe draws to an end. It links the past to the future. And because of that, many Jedi masters have sought visions of the future from the Unifying Force. They believed these visions helped them to know the Force's will. But when you spend all your time meditating on the future, you lose sight of the present. You can even sacrifice your freedom in the name of finding your destiny."

He turned toward her again with eyes bright and full of secrets. "But the Force is bigger than that. So big, and so wonderful, that we have to divide it up just to make sense of it. The Unifying Force is just one aspect that helps us to understand its nature. Its counterpart, the energy that penetrates our bodies and souls and binds us to the present - that's the Living Force."

[Palara Iscandar]

"Zis sounds needlessly complicated," the Imperial muttered, but she kept her attention on what Solomon was telling her, while trying to comprehend what he was trying to teach her.

"So ze Living Force and ze Unifying Force are two aspects of one reality," she said, an attempt to at least somewhat simplify the distinctions the Jedi was making. "Does zat mean zat ze Living Force is what we, euh, use in combat or for... ozzer zings?"

Her question ended lamely; it was clear she'd never used the Force outside of combat or for searching out secrets and hidden adepts, which was in itself a part of combat in her perception.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon offered Palara an apologetic smile. "It is complicated. But keep in mind we're trying to explain something that transcends all life, and all existence. I won't claim to have it all figured out myself. What I'm trying to get at is the tension between these two ideas: the Unifying, and the Living.

"In the Unifying Force, we find form, state of being, causality, and destiny. In the Living Force, we find purpose, change, freedom, and possibility. In combat, we rely on both, from the elementary physics of a lightsaber, to the mind and hands that animate it. But if I may be so bold, I think part of your confusion lies in the fact that you are thinking of the Force as merely something that you use."

[Palara Iscandar]

"What else am I to do with it?" Iscandar asked, feeling an alien sort of irritation bubble up within her. She clamped down on it with an iron will and continued. Even so, some of that leaked out into her voice. "Is ze Force a zing? Or are you saying zat it is somezing more?"

She sighed and sat on the slope, looking out over the intensely beautiful scenery laid out before her before turning her eyes back to Solomon.

"I am trying to see where you are going with zis, Solomon," she said. "But I am afraid I cannot guess it. What more can I do with it but use it?"

[Rev Solomon]

"You can enjoy it."

He saw the confusion gathering on her face again, and he gestured to the forest before them. "As you enjoy a beautiful view. Or time spent with a dear friend. Or a life well-lived. The Force is a part of you, Palara, and you are a part of it. You are one of its creatures. I said earlier that the will of the Force is to protect and cherish all life. That means that you are cherished as well. You are not a cog in a machine, or a pawn of destiny. You are a special creation, unique in the history of the universe, and your future is full of possibilities. This is the nature of the Living Force."

Just ahead of them, the forest spilled away into a broad, bowl sunk into the side of the mountain, with slopes covered in gently swaying heather, and at the center of the bowl there stood a ruined plinth surrounded by broken stone columns, far older than the monastery they had left behind. From the plinth one could look out from the mountainside and see the vast plains of Generis stretching past the horizon, bordered by snow-capped ridges and riddled with glittering rivers and lakes, while above the sky stretched on forever, wild and clear and impossibly blue.

"When we met," Solomon said, "you told me (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?22112-Form-III-One-Man-Fortress-Against-All-Odds&p=376602&viewfull=1#post376602) that the Force was a tool, and that so were you. If you believe nothing else I say to you, then believe this: the Force is alive in you, and you are so much more than a tool of the Empire. In the Force, you have communion with all living things, as a sister, and as a friend. And it is through this communion that you have the power of the Light Side of the Force. It is not conquered. It is not bargained with. It is not coerced into submission. It is freely given as an act of love."

[Palara Iscandar]

Palara frowned, though the expression was more one of thought than irritation.

"I can love a rock, but it does not love me back; it 'as no personality," she said. "I can love... for lack of a better word, 'umanity, but 'umanity cannot love me in reciprocation; it is just a word to organize and make compre'ensible ze concept."

She looked at Solomon intently, her thoughts coalescing into words as she thought them. Normally, she would have let them sit, pondered them and filtred them unconsciously. She preferred action to introspection, movement to stillness, and this philosophy and its complexity made her irritated. She had been expecting techniques of meditation or breathing, applications of the philosophy that she could internalize. That had been the way Atrapes had taught her. She was still trying to parse the words Solomon was saying. Love? Sister? Communion?

"What is it, Solomon?" she asked, remembering Wei's words on Dantooine about fate and destiny and will. "What is ze Force? Is it life? 'Ow can one love life, in ze way you speak? One can love living, zis I understand, but such an abstract concept as life? Sentience? Can an abstract concept 'ave a will — or love — at all? I 'ave not felt such a thing, zough I suppose zat means nothing."

She said the last with amusement, though she was not joking. Solomon looked ready to respond, but she held up a hand; she wasn't quite done, and she needed the time to allow herself to calm and assess herself. Still, she spoke, giving air to her more troubling reflections.

"Must I love my enemies to defeat zem?" she asked. "I 'ave met and killed Jedi, and zose trained by Jedi, before, Solomon. Zey did not love or cherish me when zey tried to strike me down."

She felt a bit guilty, admitting to her teacher a fact that she was sure he had already guessed at. It was absurd, and she wasn't going to apologize for it, either; she had done what she had done, and tears and sorrow now wouldn't grant her foes their lives back. The galaxy, she knew, was a cruel place. She realized with a start that it was that view that made it so difficult for her to see the Force as a benevolent (being? It had been much simpler before) with a will to love and cherish life. It was stupidly personal and so rife with bias, but she couldn't help but wonder — what about her life?

Still, in the back of her mind, she wondered if she had killed anyone Solomon had known, or seen, or cared for. She only knew for sure of three people who had been Jedi, though she had killed at least thirty Force adepts and users in her time in the Inquisitoriate.

She banished those thoughts for a later time of introspection.

"You do not need to answer zat. It is a foolish question, wizzout relevance to our discussion." She smiled wryly, and noted one last thing. "Zough from your description, it must be 'ard to be a practitioner of ze Light and be a misanthrope."

[Rev Solomon]

"Oh, I know more than one Jedi who fits the type," Solomon replied with a laugh. "But I don't think it was a foolish question at all. In combat we are at the greatest risk of drifting from the Light into the Dark. You know that from experience. You may not need to love your enemy to win a battle, but why is it that you fight? For the love of justice, of peace, of the lives you aim to defend. When you fight for selfish reasons - to gain power, to get revenge, out of fear or hatred... there lies the path to the Dark Side. The Jedi you fought may have opposed the Empire out of conscience or out of fear. We're only mortal, and liable to stumble. That's what makes it so important to remember why we fight at all."

He started down the steep slope toward the ruins, into a breeze that tugged at the edges of his monastic robes. "If in your travels you met a young girl who had been sold into slavery, as you once were, into a life of abuse and captivity, would you not be moved to compassion? Would you not feel outrage toward her captors? Would you not wish to fight for her, and for all who are like her?"

[Palara Iscandar]

"Ze galaxy, it is not a good place, Solomon," Palara answered, her voice hard. "I 'ave seen such t'ings. Ze desire to control, to exploit, I cannot remove it from ozzers. What am I to do? Kill each one I come across zat claims to own anozzer?"