Alone. In the woods. In quiet. Whether in the stealth of the hunt or the speed of the run, this was the space he needed to think. Between household duties and the call of commerce or duty, there was the call of the wild. The woods were a friend to the friendless, a welcomer of strangers and the estranged, and a fertile space for passive or active meditation. The intense focus of pursuit, of tracking wild Shatual, where all scents and sounds told a story. Or a space where the mind of soldier, hunter, and all those other modes of being could simply dissolve. Thoughts could come or go, drifting in and out like clouds in a sky of infinite possibility. Unless there was a storm. LIke today. Like now.
Even the gentle quiet of wild places wasn’t enough space for the raging war inside of Solus at this moment.
The vanquishing of the Sith invaders had torn Solus to the core of his being.
The purge of the presence of evil was his goal. Decimate the would-be destroyers of our homeland, of everything we are and stand for, bringing their dark magic to our turf… Our sacred space, Solus thought to himself. But the attempted destruction of evil had shown him something far more terrifying… Evil wasn’t outside of him or his countrymen. Each target he destroyed was viewed as a predatory animal, only to find in himself the predatory instinct alive and well. He hated what he saw, and he feared that how he was being was of the darkest and most sinister corners in the universe. He sensed his malice. His anger. His hate. His own suffering. And in attempting to clean up the evil he saw on the outside, it only compounded the presence of darkness within.
“I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE!!”
He hadn’t said the words aloud before, but they erupted out of his mouth like a volcano. Good thing he was standing alone, surrounded by the trees and wildlife that were his closest friends. A Mandalorian who can’t kriffing do it? ARE YOU INSANE?? he thought to himself. But that was it. The decision was made. I refuse to kill.
It wasn’t the slaughter of well-deserving thugs, no, it was the sense that the evil they sought to wipe out lived on. And it lived through me in that moment. I’m no Sith, but in that moment, we were more alike than different. Maybe nothing different could have been done. Love and hate. Light and dark. Equal and opposite reactions. Doomed to continue in gridlock for forever. Maybe this is how the Force works...
The Force.
Those words stopped him in his tracks. He reawakened to the present moment, to his external environment, to the rough, jagged, technical single-track that was used by combat trainees just months ago. He took a deep breath, felt his heart pulsing in his chest, and started to run again.
The Force.
He couldn’t remember the first time he heard that term, but it stuck. He had always felt a pull he couldn’t explain, a draw inward that was somehow outward at the same time. For most of his young life, Solus just thought it was because he was a loner. Not the most incredible athlete or warrior with a notable skill above all others in any one category, save for his observation (when he wanted, he could turn inward just as well). The most perceptive and intuitive, the most withdrawn. He knew now there was something more.
An energy, and he was sensitive to it and susceptible to it somehow. He had premonitions, gut feelings, specific pictures and imaginings that would come true to the detail. While he was no gifted speaker, he had an unconscious knack for persuasion. And he just had… feelings. About spaces. Feelings that were not merely tactical but not easily described. He was beginning to wonder what else was here… in the Force… or whatever you call it.
Osik.
Realization dawned. Memories began to flood back to him as, like a Shatual, he jumped from rock to rock and sped up switchbacks with a lightness of body and a growing lightness of being within.
He had always been different from the others. The observer more than the warrior. He could hold his own in combat at a distance or hand-to-hand, but he was never the strongest, the fastest, the best. In hunting (animals) and foraging, he something sacred, a divine and mysterious transaction. A cosmic dance. A circle of life, not a linear continuation of our people and our culture, but a part of something much bigger. He couldn’t put his finger on it and he spent no time or effort attempting to communicate with words. Mandos were extremely distrustful of force-users, and whatever Solus felt and sensed, it was obviously not a welcome part of the day-to-day conversation. Not safe to share with his family, his peers, and certainly not his ranking officers.
Osik.
This was not going to go over well.
A Mandalorian Warrior who refused to take life and who believed in the Force.
He had no idea what the next steps were in his life, what the cost would be, and where this would lead. All he could do was put one foot in front of the other and continue running as best he knew how.
As daylight waned, clarity dawned.
He sped downhill with a renewed sense of calm, even at the brisk pace. He didn’t just run, he flew. Yes there was darkness, but the light was growing and expanding within. Yes, there would be choices, but it didn’t matter. They would be made when the time came.
Running out of the woods and into a clearing, he turned to finish his run back home at a full sprint.
Then he saw his family out in the field bringing in the equipment from the day’s harvest.
Osik, I’m screwed.
And it’s only Tuesday.
