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Mirrors of the Force. Part 10 by barbarasobczynska Mirrors of the Force. Part 10 by barbarasobczynska
an illustration to the tenth(and the last) part of the "Mirrors of the Force" story, a very unique StarWars fanfiction written by my dear friend Sebastian :iconcharonferryman:
this part happens long years later, and here the grown-up Laar is remiscing the events that took place in her and other characters' past,
(to comment and +fav on the literary aspects of our collaboration - please leave comments under Sebastian's submission of the part of the story itself:nod: :spotlight-left: [link] :spotlight-right:)
thank you for reading and watching illustrations for those of you who followed "The Mirrors of the Force" and in advance to those of you who will do it in the future, may the Force be with you:jedi:!


************************

Sebastian Buchner

Mirrors of the Force
Part X


You start out thinking that time is something that always passes the same way. A minute is always a minute, an hour always and hour. Time is a river and a day, you reason, can never be anything but a day.
How wrong you are. Days have passed since Iason…died…took over the ship, I do not know what he did. Days have passed but they feel more like years or eternities. Ages in their own right, filled with events and struggles and joys and at the end of it, your senses worked to a breaking point in trying to take all of this in, there stands death. But no, it is simply sleep, death’s younger brother, who delivers you to another age. Another eternity. I have become old, but how can one become old in a day or two?
Time is a still puddle filled with eddies and currents.
Trying to piece together how the ghost brother and I reached the sphere at the center of the ship I always find myself dissolving in giggling incredulity. To tell it…that’s a story even I would not believe and it has happened to me. How could I have known that the ship is controlled that way? So much pain and agony…but does that change the way I look at the ship, the place I had already called my former home? Perhaps. But this I must leave for later.
We rode the transporter and I was riveted, fascinated by the speed of our passage, by the unknown mental and intellectual abilities that the mind map opened up to me. It was clear, suddenly it was clear, why the ship had been built and why it had been sent off into space. Cynics and optimists had mingled to create their utopia, had separated it from homeworlds that sunk into chaos and warfare and had installed a simpler society than the one they had lost all hope in. They had dreamed of a new beginning. And for the first time I was aware that I was a descendant of these people. That I carried their dream inside of me. That I was about to be carried, myself, by that very dream far away from the ship.
Every movement of my thoughts was mirrored by a movement of the transporter. It was such a blissful synchronicity. A new corridor opened up before my eyes and a new corridor opened up before my thoughts. I knew were coming closer to the sphere and I knew that we would enter it. But how? I still don’t know that.
I’m sure it has happened to you that your thoughts were, for a minute or two, simply turned off and that you were left with nothing but the world around you. For me it was the other way round. The world that surrounded me was turned off and all that counted was the world of my thoughts. I know I was thinking that to enter the sphere was to enter the absolute core of my being, whatever that may mean. And the next moment we were inside and I saw all those withered and twisted faces and I saw Ti and I saw Iason who looked like he had been split in half. I ran over to them, held Iason by the shoulders. Ti’s face was so filled with shock and pain that I started to cry immediately.
We did the only thing we could. We did what he asked of us. We put him next to the woman that Ti called her sister and we left the sphere, drifting across empty space and immeasurable cold without oxygen, without suits, without losing our lives.
What happened in those old, short days? What happened just after Iason…left? The ship began to move. We saw it when sunlight came through windows that had previously been only dark and star-filled. Hostilities ceased. Some people had to be killed to establish order. Ti’s two sisters, Ro and Xza, killed themselves soon after. It was said that the voices inside their heads drove them insane. Ti, who never spoke much, stopped speaking entirely. The only thing she told me after Iason’s choice was that she could hear him, if she allowed the voices in her head to speak and that his voice was the only reason why she did not share her sisters’ fate. She is very weak now, barely more than a skeleton. She lives in the spirit place near the sphere amidst carvings and carpets and primitive patterns and I think she visits the sphere or tries to visit it. I bring her food and care. My children have started thinking of her as their aunt and I do not correct them. They come with me and spend time with their aunt. Some days she seems truly happy.
There is one thing that I do not like to speak about. I killed Jerek. It happened when I was examining the shuttles for the first time. The ghost brother was still with me at that time. Jerek came as I was climbing into one of the shuttles and he fired his gun at me. He hit me in the shoulder and the memory of him brings back that particular pain. The ghost brother helped me trick him. I took his gun from him and I shot him.
Later the ghost brother went away. I do not know how and why. Lug, my oldest kid, still met him. Something in Lug’s eyes reminds me of him, strangely enough. My ghost brother, who showed me the map…
My plan to leave the ship, to take up the dream that lived inside of me…that plan failed. There was no fuel for the shuttles and no way to make it. It took me long days of frustration before I understood that it was a blessing and that, had I boarded such a shuttle, I would have starved in a few weeks time. There is no habitable planet in five hundred years diameter from where we drifted. We have scientists now and astronomers and we have rediscovered many techniques and tools that our ancestors knew and we rebuild them, improve them and put them to use. They have found that out. They also found out, through vast and inexplicable star charts, that we are steering for the closest habitable planet. We all think that we…our offsprings…will settle there.
I have a family now. A husband and three children. Sometimes, in certain moods, I can see how my dream leaves me to live inside of Talha, my youngest daughter. It will take several generations until that dream, the dream of living on earth and under sky, can be fulfilled and I need to put trust into my children and their children and their children’s children that one day that dream will be fulfilled.
I have developed a foolish habit. If I were old I would understand but I am not yet old. When I use the computers of the ship, I imagine that I am talking to Iason. I imagine that it is him who is steering the ship and that when I touch metal, what I touch in fact is flesh. I talk tenderly to the ship sometimes…some other times I read the Do Ro M stories that my grandparents wrote to my children and I remember standing in front of a newly awakened man and how afraid I was of him then. He never got to read the stories. I’m a foolish woman. I imagine the lights on the computer change according to my voice when I read them…I’m a foolish woman and the days move too fast for my liking…



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

part I [link]
part II [link]
part III [link]
part IV [link]
part V [link]
part VI [link]
part VII [link]
PartVIII [link]
Part IX [link]
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:iconlithionn:
I hope the story starts with part IV : )
Reply
:iconhalogirl237:
halogirl237 Nov 3, 2012  Student Digital Artist
so beautiful, the writing and the artwork. Such a powerful emotion in these pieces, great job
Reply
:icongoblinqueeen:
I love the texture in here, so alive :)
Reply
:iconhell-on-a-stick:
your figures and perspectives are becoming more and more real and centered. they are createing a life for themselves and a movement....good. very good.
Reply
:iconpink-pony:
Pink-Pony Mar 8, 2009  Hobbyist Photographer
great illustration!
Reply
:iconjfkpaint:
I keep getting an old Russian Folk art feel. Not sure why. Tried reading the segment but couldn't make it though. Are they all sad?
Reply
:iconpeltipurkki:
Such a lovely illustration. Just can't describe it well enough. It's like some strange mixture of Star Wars and Rudolf Koivu (this one Finnish illustrator, which artwork I find particularly interesting)
Reply
:iconinobras:
Wonderful work! :clap:
Reply
:iconwhite-porcelain:
This is absolutely amazing. One of your best I would say. So much emotion in it, complex emotion too. And I love the "saintly" figure on the left - there is a sort of sad wisdom in her.
Reply
:iconbarbarasobczynska:
barbarasobczynska Mar 4, 2009  Professional General Artist
thank you, lovely girl:smooch:
Reply
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