Private Pressured Introspection | Solo

[Alicio Organa]

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SANCTUARY CITY, ALDERAAN
RESEARCH LAB​

It had been easy enough to obtain a geological compressor. Sanctuary City's domed gardens, which contained simulated biospheres of destroyed planets across the galaxy, used geologically-compressed soil and rock to make them as close to the real thing as possible. Alicio had simply asked to borrow one for a couple days. Of course, the geologist he took it from asked why an Alderaanian noble wanted access to such a device. Alicio responded, too easily, that he was testing the chemical properties of soil from a potential city-building project.

How was he to explain he was creating a lightsaber crystal in secret, based on nothing but visions and hunches?

The inside of the research lab was dull, littered with small instruments of observation and a few stray datapads. While more important at Sanctuary City's conception, the only time this particular lab was used these days was testing the acidity and saline content of potential farm soil. Alicio was glad for this fact, it meant he likely wouldn't be disturbed. The centerpiece of the room, however, more than made up for the drabness of the rest of it.

A large machine beeped quietly in the middle of the room. It was cylindrical, almost like a jet engine, capped with an open, concave disk to place materials upon. The shape of the top, and the various sharp knobs and edges coming from the base, made the geological compressor look like a dragon's gaping maw, silently shrieking in it's dormant state.

Trepidation clenched the nobleman's jaw as he stared at it. Could he do this? Should he?

He wasn't sure, but something in the back of his mind told him yes.

​

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[Alicio Organa]

​

Alicio's sleeves were quickly soiled by... well... soil.

The nobleman stood next to the compressor, shoveling dirt onto the inverted dome from a hovercrate. In the absence of a spade, he used his hands, scooping it into the forge, abandoning his noble heritage to work in the mud. He'd had the foresight to remove his gloves, but his arms were covered in rich, black soil, harvested from a nearby farm in Sanctuary City.

He didn't mind it much. The physical labor took his mind off other things.

After a few minutes of work, Alicio put on the finishing touches. From a workbench, Alicio began transitioning the contents of small labeled boxes into the compressor. One was labeled Kesh. Another Csilla. One by one, Alicio opened a container, pondered over it a moment, and poured it in. Until one box was left. Balmorra.

The Alderaanian poured that one in quickly. He wasn't able to think on it for long.

Alicio stared at the pile of dirt and rocks in remembrance, gathered from across the galaxy. Each grain had a story, each planet a tragedy. Each one was a former home for a resident in his city.

His hand hovered over the geological compressor's controls for a moment longer, before pressing a few buttons in succession. Blue jets of flame began heating the material.

No going back now.

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[Alicio Organa]

Alicio tasted music on his lips.

The first hour, which consisted of messing with the compressor's controls, had come and gone without issue. The material within the forge was barely recognizable as it's base components, having been superheated and compressed into looking more like a star. The temperature of the room had risen severely, forcing Alicio to abandon his coat, and cover his eyes from the bright light.

He hadn't been sure what to do after this. The geological compressor, the components, the specifications, all of that Alicio had learned on his own. But now what?

The song of the Force was his answer. Alicio heard it, in the back of his mind. It was quiet at first, so faint it could be a whisper, but growing in presence. To his synesthesia, the ethereal tune tasted like sea air, blowing in from the coast. Carrying the bite of salt, the cold of the ocean, but nostalgic and warm all the same.

Alicio, sufficiently covered in sweat, forced himself to look into the burning sun that was the device. He swore he saw a blue glimmer within, within the molten whites and oranges. And he... focused on it. Outstretched a hand, as if to pull it from the stone. The blue light flickered stronger.

Find me, the song seemed to taunt in it's salted tone. Find me.

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[Alicio Organa]

Four hours.

Alicio kept the blue ember alive for four hours.

In that time, Alicio strained with all of his might to shelter the spark. Hold it gently in his hand, nurture it like he felt he should. Its constant call of 'Find me' lost strength, until its coy plea, and the song of the Force, fell silent once more. His first attempt was a failure.

"No!"

Alicio fell to his knees, covered in rolling sweat, muscles shaking with strain. His fine royal vestments were no doubt beyond repair, but he didn't find himself caring in the slightest. He had been affected by the loss, more than he could've imagined.

He'd poured his heart into that light. Shaped it like a piece of artwork, until he couldn't tell where the mind ended, and the creation began. The harmony and peace it exuded, however weak, was genuine. When it died, it was as if a part of him had died with it.

With weak arms, Alicio pushed himself onto his knees, wiping sweat from his forehead. What had gone wrong? Had he not been careful? Were the specifications not perfect?

No. The problem was him. He had been too scared to break the crystal, fearing it's fragility. This time, he would hold onto it, and he wouldn't lose it for anything.

Finding a new strength, Alicio rocked back onto his feet, and peeled off the shirt clinging to his back. He extended both hands to the compressor, in a clasping gesture. After a moment, the song returned, but the taste was different. Along with the fresh sea air, was a hint of sickly-sweet myrrh.

Find me, and do not let go.
​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio was standing on a grand stage, in the middle of Sanctuary City.

He saw the crowds of refugees as clear as day, tinged in bright blue hues. The edges of his vision bled away, becoming as smudged and ill-defined as an oil painting. If he turned his head quickly enough, he swore he saw the brushstrokes, fading to black as the brush ran out of paint. There was no talking from the crowds, just the ringing of the Song in his ears.

Alicio saw Queen Faith step up next to him. She was talking in calm tones, but he didn't hear her. To his left was his sister Claire, giving him a comforting smile. Their parents were behind Claire, looking on with pride.

It was then that some unknown hand splashed water on the oiled canvas. The vision began to wobble and waver, as lines became less defined, and paint began to run down the forms of the people and buildings. No one seemed to notice the bleeding reality but Faith, who looked to Alicio in fear. She was counting on him.

In a panic, Alicio threw out his hands. The salted taste of the Song became violent, the incense turning to burnt smoke. But miraculously, the bleeding stopped. The painting froze, his family, his people, facing him with blank stares. The noble turned his palms upward, pushing up as if he were carrying something exceedingly heavy.

He had to bear the weight. Faith trusted him. His people relied on him. He had to.

Do not let go.
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[Alicio Organa]

Alicio held up the weight of the world for longer than he could keep track of. His arms were raised towards the sky, hands clawed and severe, as he fought to keep the canvas from dripping. But he was beginning to tire.

One by one, the buildings around Alicio bled into non-existence.

There was no great struggle. No fire, no screaming, no war. One moment, they were there, and the next, they ceased to be, the colors they were painted with draining to places unseen. The steward tried his best to keep his city, to hold it all up, but he was losing ground.

He looked to his family, his House, only to find they were gone.

Alicio dropped to a knee, palms towards the sky, pushing up against some invisible ceiling. The people began to dissolve, turning into their base colors, and running off the painting. Fathers, mothers, widows and widowers. And the children. One by one, they too disappeared, despite Alicio's strained yell. Thousands turned to hundreds, turned to dozens, turned to one.

He couldn't even tell who they were. It could have been anyone. Alicio was too concentrated on keeping them together, one hand dropped to the ground, the other outstretched.

"Aren't you afraid to lose it all?" the shadowed being crooned behind a silver mask, in the voice of the Song. "Let it go now. So it hurts less when it slips through your fingers."

But he couldn't.

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[Alicio Organa]

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Hold on Focus on the bitterness The future is uncertain You must look ahead Reach out Hold on to yourself​ Run away from your fear Do not fail your family Do not fail your city Do not fail your legacy You must choose Hold on ​

The voices were fighting now, competing ash and sea breeze. Alicio could barely keep them straight as they battled for control. He stretched his hand out trying desperately to save this shadowed figure. Alicio was pulled forward gently like a child led by a mother's hand, feet stumbling on cobblestones until they suddenly stopped. Now was the moment of truth. Hold on, or let go?​

Let go Feel the salt on your tongue The present is important Take solace in the now Reach out Let go of your fear Achieve your goals Make your House proud Build your people a refuge Create a legacy You must choose Let go

He didn't have time to decide before the vision faded, and he was alone in the labratory once more, hand outstretched and squeezing the air with white knuckles. His neck pulled his vision up slowly, where something caught his eye ahead.

Something glittered coldly, blue and black, within the geological compressor.​