Here's the second Marissa Sune/Master Slask vignette, which mostly describes some of his teachings/her training. I experimented a little with this one: I've been told by a couple of test readers (who are a most villianous, unsavory lot, I assure yoiu) that it wasn't quite clear what was going on until a certain point. So...if you think this one's put together funny and have any suggestions, please post 'em.
Meanwhile, enjoy the story.
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Hilltop"Up the hill, Master?" Marissa asked.
"Yes." Slask answered.
Marissa grinned and began to jog She enjoyed hilltop days, though they could be a challenge. Sorkan was temperate, but the area Slask had chosen for her training was humid and the slope he'd picked for exercise was littered with rocks, sinkholes, and thornbushes. She ran alone and wasn't allowed to go up the same way twice.
Her feet pounded the ground. She let their rhythm relax her, and she stretched out with the Force. Its whispers would tell her where to step, where to avoid, at least in theory.
In practice, she'd fall at least three times on every journey. Marissa had grown two inches in the last three months. When she looked in the mirror, it seemed to her as if the legs of a much taller person had replaced her own.
"I look like a Quayark." She'd complained.
"More like a Howlrunner." Her master had replied, not being at all helpful. "Quayark's are prey animals."
The ground began to curve upward. The first few obstacles were avoided. She had tried to concentrate on the path, the first few times.
"You are trying too hard. Relax yourself." Slask had advised.
"But if I relax too much I won't pay attention." She'd protested.
"Yes you will." He'd chuckled. "You listen to the Force differently for different tasks. This requires your attention on the most basic level. Disconnect your thoughts from your instincts, and the part you need won't be so distracted."
The trick was working. Her body responded without conscious thought, her too-large feet coming down in between stones, or just past dangerous roots. She enjoyed the feeling, enjoyed listening to the Force whisper and then feeling her body react. She stumbled, then laughed. Even trying to analyze the connection could distract her. She forced her thoughts to other things.
Slask had introduced her to blasters.
"Aren't these a little...uncivilized, Master?" She'd asked.
"A weapon is a weapon, my padawan. No matter what many Jedi believe. Try one."
The sidearms had been laid out on the same table they used when they ate outdoors. In the distance, a large melon had been set atop a stump. Marissa picked up one of the blasters, a somewhat bulky example, and Slask had chuckled. She'd glanced at him, wondering if she'd done something wrong.
"Go on." He'd said. "I had assumed you'd pick something smaller."
She'd shrugged, a bit defensively -- this had taken place just after their arrival, and while she'd trusted him, it hadn't been as completely as she did now. He'd shown her how to operate the thing, instructed her on a few safety protocols. Then she'd aimed at the melon and fired.
The shot missed. She'd frowned.
"It's a skill." Slask had reminded. "It must be learned, practiced."
She'd thought about saying that a blaster wasn't the weapon of a Jedi, but even thinking it had felt odd. She realized that she didn't feel that way. The idea had been told to her as if it were the truth.
"Compared to your lightsaber, its rather uncontrolled." Slask admitted. "The bolts have mass, weight...the do not move as light does despite what some say, but they are too fast for even the quickest Jedi to guide their flight. You must learn to aim, as anyone else would."
Marissa had nodded, fired again. Closer, but still a miss.
"There may be times when a lightsaber would be unsuitable or unavailable." Slask had cautioned, even as his scaly hands moved her elbows and forearms into a more correct firing position. "And hunting with a saber may be enjoyable, but it is not efficient. Someday one of these weapons may feed you."
The third shot had clipped the melon, sending a few bits of flaming rind into the air. She'd realized just how truthful her new master was being, and how open. It had made her feel good.
She narrowly avoided a patch of thorns; one stiff briar snagged her thigh. She was wearing excercise shorts. She cursed lightly at the pain, then stumbled and fell. Her anger swelled. She examined it.
She'd tried to concentrate in a more conventional sense after the thorny branch had caught her leg. Thus, she fell. She'd failed to maintain her detachment.. There was no sense concentrating on such things, and so she put it out of her head, got up, and began to jog again.
Her anger subsided.
"Master, when you talked to me of anger..." She'd queried one night. It'd been a particularly dark evening, and one Slask had decided would be suitable for cooking outdoors. The crackle of the campfire and the sounds of the night had made her comfortable. It was still important to Marissa that she be comfortable when questioning her Master. "...you said that it tells me things, and that I can listen."
Slask, his brown scales reflecting little of the firelight as he adjusted the innards of his lightsaber.
"I trust what you teach me, Master, but it still seems so opposed to what I've learned before." She had stated. "How do I know when my anger is worth listening to? How will I know when I'm not angry for selfish reasons?"
"You're worried about the dark side." Slask had responded, setting his work aside. Marissa nodded.
"Your anger is a part of you...you've accepted that." The Trandoshan had continued. "Anger is a simple thing. It is a reaction to the universe not shaping itself to suit our whim. It is greedy. It wants you to sate yourself in whatever manner you see fit, and it demands that you act when you are not fed in the way you wish to be."
The lizard-man's eyes had looked thoughtful.
"When you feel anger, you must ask why. What made you angry? Why did it make you angry? Answer those questions. If you are angry because you see...an injustice you could prevent or a starving child that could be fed, then act on it. If you are angry because you made a mistake or are having difficulty, act to correct the mistake. It's when you are angry for less savory reasons that you should shut out its voice. I've seen you do this many times. As I said when I took you as a padawan, you've already learned this lesson."
Marissa had nodded.
"I'm simply curious, Master. So it's when we listen to our anger for reasons that benefit only us that anger can lead to the dark side?"
"Not precisely." Slask had pointed to one of the rocks containing the fire. "If you wish to move that stone...with the Force...how would you do it?"
Marissa had blinked. "I...just would, Master."
"
Think about how you'd do it, my padawan. Try and describe it."
Marissa pondered the question. She'd never been asked to do that before.
"I'd listen for its...noise, master. I'd stretch out with the Force in the way that would intice it to rise."
Slask nodded. "There's an easier way, isn't there?"
Marissa's stomach had clenched.
"Yes, master...but..."
"But you're not supposed to do it that way."
Marissa had nodded.
"If you wanted, though, you could simply tell the rock to move and give it no choice in the matter. Couldn't you?"
"Yes."
"Very much like asking someone to do something for you, compared with forcing them at blaster point."
"I suppose, Master."
Slask had chuckled. "That is why anger can lead to the dark side if you allow it control. It tempts you. It tells you the way things ought to be, and it brings to light how easily you could change them. First you're demanding the rock move. Soon it might not just be rocks, because allowing your anger free reign makes you more likely to do so again. Anger is greedy. Its stomach cannot fill."
"That seems...self-destructive, Master."
"It is. Even the most powerful Sith Lords in history were blinded by their greed, their ambition. They sought more than they needed to feed them, and it was never enough. Despite their discipline...and they had the same measure as any Jedi, I assure you...hunger invariably destroyed those the Jedi did not. Sometimes their own hunger, sometimes someone else's."
He had stoked the fire and smiled. "The dark side is a scavenging beast. Like most scavengers, it will glut itself until its belly bursts. But we are different, Marissa. We are predators. We take what we need, and no more."
To her surprise, she really had understood. It'd seemed instinctual, as if it were the way of things, or at least the way of Marissa Sune.
She found herself on the hilltop. She slid out of her reverie. There was pain in her left thigh. She looked down to see that it had bled. The wound was drying now. She wiped the excess off with the hem of her shorts, then looked up.
A wide valley spread out below her, the morning mist collecting in its trough and rendering the plant life lush and green.
Marissa leaned over and placed her hands on her knees. She controlled her breathing. Her heart slowed to it's resting state. She let the whispers of the valley into her mind; the birds, the animals, the trees, the people in town. That had been a chore for her once. Now it was simply part of the view. She listened and gazed for a time, already looking forward to the next hilltop day.
End
Topic: Hilltop (Read 3499 times)