[FIC] Critical Mass
I thought of the idea for this story whilst as usual, sat on the toilet. It's inspiration was a classical passacaglia that put me into a trance-like state while writing this (hence the philosophy to it) and also the mystery of Bao'Dur.
This short story is based on the moments of Bao'Dur receiving the orders to construct the Mass Shadow Generator during the Mandalorian wars.
Given the order, Bao'Dur knew what he must do. The back-up plan and last ditch effort. The construction of destruction, the Mass Shadow Generator. The unique gravitational anomalies in the system gave even the raw conception of this device, life. Without hesitation, Lieutenant Bao'Dur began the construction of the Mass Shadow Generator which was to be built whilst the enemy fleet approached Malachor V. The design was simple and to Bao'Dur, was as easy as repairing a broken hyperdrive. If only the consequences were as easy to live with.
Many days passed with a huge battle now in full force overhead the world of Malachor V. Millions fight and tear at each other on the surface whilst Bao'Dur constructs the brilliantly simple Mass Shadow Generator. The device was tailored to the system, using the planet's gravity to create a quantum singularity which effectively would stop the planet spinning by fracturing the planet from the inside out.
Bao'Dur constructed the Mass Shadow Generator with a blind obedience. Track of time disappeared as day and night became one, in no small part due to the roaring battle. He lost alot of self awareness in its construction, he became mindless. Determination to win the war drove him forward with the knowledge in that he would save the people that he loved. Victory at all costs? With an enemy so ruthless, he knew they would not stop at nothing to get the edge. Had the enemy the knowledge of a Mass Shadow Generator design, would they not construct the same? Upon completion of the Generator, Bao'Dur knew the answer. Honour. None of they're most brilliant leaders would ever conceive such a thing. There is no honour in so much destruction. This Generator, this is the act of desperation. A final cry, the fist to the wall. A truth that would haunt Bao'Dur for the rest of his life.
When we are children, lives are simple and carefree. It is easy to forget that everyone was once a child. Playing with the toys that build imagination. Had one toy been taken away, would we be different people than we are today? That which taught us the rights and wrongs, actions and consequences, had never been introduced to us. Different people we would be. The decisions early in life shape the delicate events of the future of one man or the entire Galaxy. These decisions made by others influence your life. It hardly seems fair that you have no control of what you learn and understand at such a young age and somebody else does it for you. Then, committing actions of destruction and slaughter is technically the blame of parents and tutors? No, the man pulling the trigger is the criminal, not the makers of the blaster. These are excuses for the weak minded, casting the blame onto his parents. Bao'Dur is truly lost, But no. A man is never truly lost, he just hasn't found what he is looking for. That toy to teach him the important lessons, because life is the search for that toy you never had.
But then again, I am Lieutenant Bao'Dur of the Mandalorian Mechanized Infantry Corps and I was given the wrong toys as a child.