Meet the Parents (Wyl)

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Aboard the Dauntless

They had parted ways with Saricia, the younger Lupine retiring to her own quarters to no doubt rest after their time on Cloud City. Loklorien s'Ilancy could not fault her student in any way - she too was rather exhausted, but the presence of young Wyl Staedtler at her side was enough to lift her spirits to an extent, and give her a strange sort of energy that she'd not felt since... well, since she had sent Teagan away with Zem. Any other time the elder Lupine would've simply taken herself straight to bed without a word to Dan; or anyone else that might cross her path even.

But, as the lift took her and Wyl up to the deck that hers and Dan's quarters were, she couldn't help the thin smile and sideways look she sent him from the corners of her eyes. She hadn't told him that they would be going to an admittedly impressive Alliance flagship of sorts, and the Lupine wondered just how he felt about that. Was he excited? Was he a little bit disappointed that s'Il and Saricia were the only Jedi aboard? Did he wish that his own master was here?

For now, Wyl would stay with her and Dan. He would sleep in Teagan's room even. She'd not consulted Dan beforehand, but the Lupine was unwilling to leave him to his own devices. She had a feeling that that would be the last thing even Wyl would want.

Folding her hands in front of her, s'Il squared her shoulders back as the lift slowed to a stop, and when the doors had opened she paused, gesturing that Wyl be the first to step out.

[Wyl Staedtler]

She was taller than he'd expected.

Not that he'd expected her or anything, at least not in a tangible sense, but it was a natural process to wonder about ones in-laws after a time. They went a long way in explaining the origins of a spouse's quirks and endearing habits and after listening to Tak's stories (and listening and listening and listening because girls could talk), Wyl had wondered just what sort of mother could belong to his delightfully vibrant friend.

No, not mother. Dama. That was what Fang always called her.

The little boy rocked back on his heels, glancing up at Tak's Dama's profile with as much discretion as he could muster; she had an uncanny knack for meeting his gaze each time and he didn't want her to think he was staring at her scar or anything because sometimes people got uncomfortable when you stared at things like that, especially if they didn't like to talk about it, and then they started to think that you were rude and not just curious. Which was an important distinction because rude people were gearhead jerks but curious people were usually just friendly and genuinely interested. Wyl was definitely not a gearhead jerk.

He smiled a little nervously when she caught him looking again but he resisted the urge to quickly shift his attention elsewhere and caught the slow smile on her face. Her grin reminded him of Tak's and the tension in his belly loosened somewhat; they both had good smiles, warm and with secrets hiding in the corners.

"Did someone send you to find me?" Wyl broke the quiet silence, his young voice pitched against the gentle hum of the lift. "Did my master send you?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

At that s'Il dipped her head to look at Wyl fully, her broken gaze gentle. Her hand moved to keep the lift doors open. His curiosity she knew would help him find his voice once more, and the nature of his question she'd also expected. Would her answer be what he wanted to hear? The likelihood of that was small, but the Lupine would tell him the truth.

"No one sent me to find you."

She didn't know his master, but would most certainly ask him about it at a later time.

"I came looking for you because I was curious to know the boy that Teagan wrote about in her letters."

Her free hand fell to his shoulder, ushering him out of the lift.

"Also, because I hear that you and Teagan are... " it was amusing to think about, let alone speak aloud.

"... married."

[Wyl Staedtler]

"Oh." The fleeting hope that the whereabouts of Daria and the others - and whether or not they were safe - would be forthcoming fizzled away as they exited the lift. He was worried about them, though he was certain that they could take care of themselves.

Wyl's eyes flicked around with eager interest despite the distracted tilt to his expression, scouring the corridor and cataloging the ship's anatomy as they continued on their way. Any pilot worth his salt understood his vessel inside and out and it was important to train himself to recognize small details if he was going to make the cut. He reckoned it doubled as a mind exercise, a way of keeping his burgeoning skills sharp, and beamed mentally at the idea of telling his master he understood the practical application of all those lessons on concentration now.

At the mention of his recent marriage, Wyl blushed.

"Oh, yeah. We would've invited you but it was sorta spur-of-the-moment," He sent s'Il an apologetic look and then held up his hand, fingers splayed to better showcase the red ring on his finger. They'd gotten lucky, he and Fang, finding the bands. They weren't just regular old rings, either, they were decoder rings which was ten times better because they'd be useful during escapes. If they ever had to escape anything, at least, which was probably really likely considering the fact that he'd already had to run at least five times before he'd hit double-digits. He and Tak were under no illusions: they were adventurers and were destined for an outlaw life. Gadget-riddled wedding rings were just a practical capitulation to the fates.

"And she gave me this, too," Wyl stuck a hand beneath his shirt collar and tugged out the sandpanther charm necklace. "It was before we decided to get married and I gave her my lucky rock because that was our first argument and we wanted to make sure that everything was okay. Swaps are better than apologies, sometimes. And cooler."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The sight of the ring - the decoder ring at that - made the corners of her lips quirk up into a bemused grin. It was the sight of the sand panther tooth charm that made her stop though, and reaching down, s'Il carefully turned it about with slender fingers, mindful of the cord that kept it around Wyl's neck. Her features softened with warmth, and the Lupine let out a slight henh.

"There are times when swaps are better than apologies, you are right. I remember when she got this."

She let go so that he could tuck it back into his shirt, and they continued on.

"We had gone to Imram'Lien, a holy city on Cathar. One of the priests of the sky temple there gave it to her. He said that it was blessed, and that the soul of the panther it had once belonged to lived inside of it. He told her that if she was ever in trouble, the panther would protect her."

Stopping then at a door, s'Il reached out to key the entry pad.

"And now it protects you too."

The door opened to reveal the darkened interior of her and Dan's quarters; not luxurious, but it had a strange sort of ancient quality to it. One wall held many of Dan's mementos from so many years of his service in the Alliance, and scattered about on other small tables were trinkets and old keepsakes, some more than twenty years old, and others far older than that. It was still early evening, and Dan would not be back for a short while yet. Which was good. She needed time to get to know Wyl beyond the excitement of their escape from Cloud City. No doubt he was hungry as well, and seeing that the hour for supper was fast approaching now was as good a time as any to begin preparing food.

s'Il looked down at him with a smile, gesturing inside with a smooth motion.

"After you."

[Wyl Staedtler]

The boy's eyes widened and he glanced down at the sandpanther tooth with new appreciation. What had been an impressive trinket now seemed suddenly heavy and important, the thin sheen of the polished incisor glinting richly. Wyl ran a finger along the curve of the tooth, prodding the pointed end before he carefully tucked it against his skin. With a history like that, who knew what the charm was capable of; maybe the priest had meant the soul of the panther would possess the wearer. Then he and Tak would both be able to change!

In fact, he could already feel a bit of panther persona creeping into his muscles. Squaring his shoulders, Wyl stepped into the quarters without hesitation, scanning the walls with slow eyes that seemed eager to take in every detail.

"Wow, this is like a museum!" He chirped, squinting up at a framed shadowbox with glinting medals inside. It wasn't intimidating, though, despite the array of decorations and valuables. The entire effect was calming and reminded Wyl of the special collections section of the central library on Coruscant, with it's warm glow and soft hush.

He paused, waiting for s'Il to direct the way. "I bet you have to be really careful when you're wrestlin' and stuff in here, huh?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The door closed behind them, and s'Il stepped past Wyl to lead the way into the kitchen area. Unseen by him, a strange sort of look fell over her features; something that was a mix of surprised amusement at his earnest remark and happiness over just the fact that he'd said it. Such innocence was one of the things that she had so sorely missed in Teagan's absence. But, at the same time, she was finding that Wyl was distinctly different than her daughter - Teagan would've never made mention of wrestling or horseplay in general. It was a difference that the elder Lupine was happy to experience.

"Oh most certainly," she finally answered, doing her best to keep her tone as level as possible. The thought of romping about her living space was nearly enough to make her chuckle aloud.

Passing by the soft leather sofa, the Lupine slowed to a stop beneath the small archway that led into the kitchen. Turning, she clasped her hands together in front of her and gave her guest a somewhat knowing smile.

"Are you hungry?"

It was a question that she already suspected the answer to.

[Wyl Staedtler]

"I'm starving," Wyl exclaimed enthusiastically. His stomach gave a pertinent rumble of agreement and he followed his mother-in-law through to the kitchen, fingers skimming and diving along the wall in speeder mimicry.

"Um," the boy leaned against the archway, face scrunching in apprehension as he remembered the first meal he and Fang had shared, "but not for mice."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

... mice?

A raised eyebrow was sent his way as she opened the refrigeration unit.

"Well," she began slowly, still trying to parse his request, "... you're lucky then, that I have no mice readily available."

He couldn't possibly be talking of sajoi, could he? No, certainly not. It was a bit too much of a stretch.

"But I do have some hawkbat eggs, shaak bacon, and flatcake mix. Would perhaps breakfast-for-dinner be good enough?"

[Wyl Staedtler]

The mere thought of hot, fluffy flatcakes (drowned in sugary syrup, hopefully) and salty bacon with a side of eggs was enough to make his mouth salivate in anticipation. Wyl nodded with great enthusiasm. It seemed his mother-in-law possessed a varied palate, thank the stars.

"I love breakfast-for-dinner," he grinned and helpfully lifted the carton of eggs from the cooler when s'Il opened it's door. "When I was little, um, back when I lived on Coruscant? On Natunda nights we used to have omelettes and sweesonberry rolls and hotcakes. It was like a tradition."

It wasn't the sort of thing he liked to talk about, really, Back Then. There wasn't much point to it usually and it wasn't a time he enjoyed thinking of but here, in the warm glow of the kitchen unit with a pleasant, friendly weariness rubbing at the edges of his consciousness, it was different. Maybe it was because s'Il was a Dama; there was something about them, Wyl figured, that made words spill out.

"What can I do t'help?" He asked, pushing back the sleeves of his tunic.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Smiling at his enthusiasm, s'Il pulled a clear glass bowl from one of the lower cabinets. Various cooking utensils followed; a whisk, ladle, spatula, and a pair of tongs for the shaak bacon. She was also mindful to pull a small carton of milk from the cooling unit, and a measuring cup. Cooking was normally Dan's nightly ritual, but the Lupine liked to think of herself as competent enough to make dinner for Wyl and herself. She'd done it plenty of times on Cathar with Tak.

From the egg carton, she pulled four eggs and set them on the counter.

"Well," a pot was set on one of the stove's eyes and a pan on the other, "... you can tell me how you like your eggs - "

A wry smile as she half-turned to him, sliding the glass bowl measuring cup, milk, a wooden spoon, and the box of flatcake mix along the counter toward him.

" - and then you can start stirring the flatcake mix."

[Wyl Staedtler]

Wyl turned the boxed mix around, squinting at the thin strip of directions printed along the side. He trailed a small finger down the list until he found the Basic, tapping it with a triumphant little hum.

Family-Size Recipe!
(Makes 14 flatcakes)

1) Measure 2 cups Fantastic Flatcakes Original Mix™ into medium sized mixing bowl.

The boy eyed the bowl critically - was it medium? What did a medium sized bowl look like? How could you tell if it was medium if you didn't know what the large and small bowls looked like? What if he added the mix and it overflowed? Was he being graded here? Was this a test of his skills as a provider? Would this determine Tak's Dama's opinion of his character and ultimately determine the course of their relationship?

Why the heck did people cook if it was this stressful?

Deciding to trust the bowl, Wyl carefully opened the box and painstakingly shook some of the sandy mix into the measuring cup, a cloud of buttery-scented powder rising into the air and clinging to his shirt. He crouched down, eying the level. Wyl clucked, shaking his head, and poured a little more in, then checked again. The process was repeated several more times before the boy sighed and picked up the measuring cup, coaxing a few teaspoons out and back into the box.

Finally satisfied, Wyl poured it into the bowl - it fit. Thank the stars.

"Oh, I like 'em any old way." He smiled at s'Il, wiping the back of his hand across his face, smearing flatcake mix across his cheek. "But I especially like 'em when they look like little suns only not molten and liquid like a real sun because there might be bacteria in them and it can go to your brain and make it explode. I read all about it."

Wyl turned back to the directions at hand.

2) Add 1 cup milk of your choice to mix.

More measuring? Oh boy. Tongue sticking out in concentration, he opened the milk and started pouring a thin, slow stream into the cup. "But if you like them a different way, that's okay too. I'll eat practically anything, as long as it isn't lethal."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was music to her ears, hearing a child's voice around her once more. She felt an intoxicated smile wrap itself across her lips, and with keen interest the Lupine watched Wyl from the corner of her eye. He was so cautious and precise, it made her feel as though her home was nearly complete and whole once more.

Without realizing it, s'Il found she'd turned to regard Wyl with quiet ease, her cryptic smile still present as she watched him. He paused to look up and meet her eyes, and she blinked.

"That's exactly how I like my eggs," she grinned, caught in the act of staring. She gave him a wink before returning to switch on the heat to one of the stove's eyes. The Shaak bacon was carefully laid out inside the pan, and it wasn't long before they began to sizzle and crackle, and that delightful smell of bacon filled the kitchen.

"They taste the best that way."

[Wyl Staedtler]

Smiling bashfully, Wyl nodded his agreement. He liked the easy warmth that s'Il exuded, the comfort of it great after the steady panic of being stranded on Bespin. Things were going to be okay, now. He felt sure of it.

Wyl poured the milk into the bowl neatly, then picked up the spoon and started to stir it with enthusiastic dedication.

"Do you have any, um, hot sauce?" He asked, inhaling deeply as the bacon popped. With a particularly vigorous swirl of the bowl, Wyl added quickly, "It's okay if you don't. But sometimes it's really, really good on not-molten-sun eggs. Like delicious lava."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Stopping to think, s'Il gave a cursory glance around the kitchen, her eyes scanning the upper cupboards.

"I... don't know."

Slowly she stepped around him, reaching up to open a cabinet door.

"If we do it would most certainly belong to," the Lupine hesitated, unsure of how to most adequately speak of Dan. She knew that Wyl had spoken with Dan in the past, but that had been something fleeting and over a comm channel. Her hand reached up, pulling a small glass bottle from one of the shelves and inspecting the deep red liquid it held.

Finally, she held it out to Wyl for him to scrutinize himself as she finished her sentence.

"... your father-in-law."

[Wyl Staedtler]

The hand that had been creeping forward toward the bottle suddenly stilled, then drew back.

"Oh, that's okay," Wyl said breezily, waving his palm in the air. "Actually, it looks like it might be too spicy for this guy."

Jerking a thumb into his chest, the boy nodded and lifted the spoon out of the bowl of flatcake batter, tapping it on the rim so that the excess plopped off. He'd talked to his father-in-law once, via holocast. The man was, like, a supersoldier or something. There was no way Wyl was going to snake his condiments without explicit permission. That was just stupid.

"I think the batter's ready. Want me to flip 'em? Morgan showed me how to do it without a spatula!"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The sudden withdrawal caused her to loft her brow, an amused expression crossing her features. But, she said nothing - instead simply setting the bottle off to the side. The bacon was crisped perfectly, and as she lifted each piece out with a pair of tongs to set on a plate off to the side, she gave Wyl the go-ahead.

"By all means."

It was a strange sort of heaven that the Lupine found herself in, and it was one that she fell headlong into.

"I've never been good at flipping flatcakes anyways," she smiled truthfully.

[Wyl Staedtler]

"It's not so hard to learn," Wyl assured s'Il earnestly. That wasn't exactly true: it had taken him almost an entire batch of flatcakes and a lot of patient coaching from Morgan before he'd managed to get it right. Still, it would probably be different for Tak's Dama. She was an adult and a mom and she could Change.

"It's all in the wrist," he explained seriously, taking up position at the stove. The pan set out was big enough to make two or three flatcakes at a time but Wyl ladled in only a single portion, head tilted to the side as he dabbed the cream-coloured batter into as perfect a circle as he could. "You gotta move real quick, without hesitating. It helps if you pretend you're a spacer stabbing a vicious raider."

As he talked, Wyl kept a keen eye on the 'cake. It was only a few minutes before the warm smell of heating sweetbread began to rise off the pan and the smooth surface of the batter began to bubble. Wyl grinned and glanced at s'Il, making sure she was watching.

"Okay, it's ready. First you wanna make sure it's niiiiiice and loose... and then you get a good grip... and then..." Tongue sticking out in concentration, the boy shifted the pan back and forth a few times before tipping it forward and then jerking it back towards his chest in a quick, smooth motion. The flatcake launched into the air, turning and landing on it's other side in the pan with a wet plop that elicited a victorious whoop from Wyl.

"Score!" He cheered, raising a small fist. An encouraging grin spread across his face and he beamed at s'Il. "Your turn!"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There had been a small amount of nervous observation, her worry that he might burn himself creasing into faint lines at the outer edges of her eyes. But, her fear allayed at his successful flip, s'Il matched his smile with her own. Of course, watching his method in its' entirety was a sight in and of itself, and the Lupine found it mesmerizing to be witness to. He was so focused, so concentrated, and she so taken in by him.

Standing beside him, s'Il watched intently as he went about sliding the finished flatcake onto a waiting plate. Another ladle-full of batter was poured into the pan, and the Lupine watched with half-lidded eyes as it began to cook. With a firm grip on the pan's handle, s'Il waited until just the right moment, shifting it slightly from side to side to make sure the flatcake wasn't too stuck. Satisfied, she gave a sharp stab forward, flicking her wrist slightly upward.

The 'cake flipped up and over, though unlike the neat landing that Wyl's had had, she noted with amusement that a small amount of batter splayed out at one edge. She grinned as she set the pan back down to allow the other side to cook for a short time.

So engrossed in the whole process were the two that neither heard the front door open, then close shortly after.

[General Dan]

"Since when do you cook?"

Dan was greeted by the smell of something nice. He was used to either doing the honors, or hauling off to the mess to get a quick bite if s'Il was asleep and couldn't be bothered to wake up for dinner.

Dan followed his nose, finding s'Il hanging out with an energetic scampt that had to be Wyl.

"Ah, that figures, you've hired a new chef!"

[Wyl Staedtler]

"Hey, you got it first tr--"

The deep voice that cut in so took him by surprise that Wyl stopped mid-praise, craning around sharply to peer over his shoulder. At the sight of his father-in-law, the boy's shoulders squared and he stood a little straighter. He'd only ever seen the man in holoform and the grainy impressions were nothing in comparison to a real, in-the-flesh view.

Wyl's eyes skittered across Dan's form in a quick survey, his brow pinching as he filed away details for later consideration the way Daria had coached him to do. Tak had already told him that her dad was old but she hadn't mentioned anything about him being crazy. So the chef thing was probably a joke. Maybe. After all, Wyl was just a kid and nobody would say something like that about a kid unless they were making one of those jokes that adults made sometimes so that you didn't feel so uncomfortable, right?

"Hi," Wyl finally said, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He took a few purposeful strides forward and stuck out his hand, tilting his head back to peer up at Dan with a guileless smile. "I'm Wyl Staedtler and m'really, really glad to be aboard and even gladder to finally meet you, sir. I hope you're hungry."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Ignoring his jab at her aversion to cooking, s'Il turned to look at Dan. He looked as he always did after returning from his normal duties; uniform jacket unbuttoned, grey hair pulled loosely back, and a generally level look about him that suggested he was at ease with where his life had led him.

The Lupine smiled at him, then returned her attentions to the stove and began ladling in another bit of flatcake batter.

"He usually is," she smirked, answering Wyl's last question with a mildly teasing tone.

[General Dan]

"Whadda we got? Flatcakes with hot sauce?"

A light flickered in Dan's eyes, a light lit by an undying affection for all sorts of greasy spoon diner food that he'd picked through over his long life, in almost every corner of the galaxy. Place like that, in war zone after the next, were oases in an ever-widening desert. Dan endeavored to never let the chance slip him by to enjoy that sort of thing.

He pressed his hand around Wyl's, giving the youngster a good example of how a firm handshake should be done.

"Good to meet you for real this time, young man. Staying out of trouble?"

[Wyl Staedtler]

The boy cocked his head to the side, considering for a long, quiet moment before he nodded. His lips twisted in scant hesitation.

"Mostly. I guess it sort of depends on your point of view and how you define trouble, sir." Wyl shrugged and heaved a worlds-weary sigh. "Sometimes a man finds himself in a sticky situation because that's just the way the muja muffin crumbles."

In fact, it was his experience that most trouble came along without being looked for. Especially if you were a professional adventurer. Even more especially when you were a professional adventurer with a wife who had secret powers.

"But almost completely I've been trying to avoid things like that," Wyl said, returning to the conversation. He smiled brightly and swiveled back to his flatcake-flipping duties, "There's bacon and eggs too. It's a feast!"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il stepped away to allow Wyl complete control of the stove-top. He was so sure of himself, and she couldn't help the perpetual smile on her lips as she moved to stand before Dan. Hands moved up to gently peel his uniform jacket away with matronly ease - it was obvious in her calm movements that she had done this so many times before.

Turning to face Wyl's turned back, she draped the jacket over one arm.

"It certainly is," she agreed.

A pat to Dan's arm, and she took a step back.

"I'll be right back," she excused herself under the guise of going to hang the jacket up in the closet, leaving the two alone.

[General Dan]

"Points of view, huh? Sounds like Jedi talk to me. Myself, I see it as you're either in the skillet, or out of it."

Still, something in Wyl's faux world-weary commentary made Dan smile.

"You've got a sure hand at that. Where'd you learn to cook like that?"

[Wyl Staedtler]

"My friend showed me. He can eat more than anybody I know and he's probably the best pilot in the whole entire galaxy!" It was clear from the warm glimmer in his eyes that his adoration of Morgan Evanar bordered on hero-worship and Wyl couldn't suppress a crooked grin at the thought of the man. All too quickly, however, the rush of fondness was chased away by a clenching twist of dread in the pit of his belly; he hoped the others were okay, wherever they were.

""Anyway." Wyl jerked one shoulder in a casual shrug. A little subdued, he picked up the spatula that had been lying unused on the countertop and poked at the presently cooking flatcake. "This is a pretty great ship. Do you live on her all the time?"

[General Dan]

Pulling a chair nearby to straddle while Wyl cooked, Dan considered the boy's question.

"Just about all the time these days. Sometimes I have work that takes me away from the ship, and sometimes we'll have time alone and go on trips, but this is basically my home now. Didn't always used to be that way though. I don't suppose Lok's told you about the old days in the Rebellion, no?"

[Wyl Staedtler]

It was oddly comforting to know that his in-laws lived aboard the Dauntless, for he too had spent the last few years on transports, flitting about the galaxy like a tumbleweed. There was a certain way about those who lived in transit, a neatness that came from compartmentalizing the bits and pieces of life in order to steady the rhythm of constant traveling, and he was familiar with it. Wyl felt his feet fix a little more firmly on the common ground.

"Uh uh," Wyl shook his head, face perking up with alert interest as he turned to glance at Dan. He loved stories. "Were you a soldier then?"

[General Dan]

He nodded to the boy's question.

"Many years ago. Oh, long since before you were born, I was fighting the Empire in a time before there was anything you could really call a Rebellion."

Of course, tales of exploits in the Rebellion caught Wyl in his thrall like a moth to flame.

"Back then, it was mostly running. The Empire was everywhere, so all you could do was fight a little here and there, and spend the next few months going system to system. Very easy to not be settled anywhere, when you knew that you might very well have to pick up and escape within minutes at any time."

[Wyl Staedtler]

"Man, I bet you went to some astral places," Wyl exclaimed, his attention to the stovetop waning as he was drawn in by imaginings of a rugged outlaw life, wild and raw in the pioneer days of a war that had been such a steady presence in his young life that it seemed unlikely it had ever had a beginning rather than an infinite existence.

If in the old days they'd done all that running, and Tak's father was as old as he looked, then the General must have been almost everywhere - or at least as much as a being could, given the size of the galaxy. It was the sort of accomplishment that any genuine adventurer envied and admired.

Wyl found himself closing the space between them, vaulting himself up onto the edge of the counter with the easy agility of youth. The boy leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. "You musta had some real close calls, bein' so outnumbered, huh?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"There were too many to count," came her voice as s'Il returned to the kitchen, her smile partly conspiratorial, and she winked to Wyl.

"It was... very different back then."

She took over the task of watching their cooking food from the boy, allowing him to turn his full attentions to Dan.

[General Dan]

"We did have a few."

Dan humored the boy's thirst for a good story, and leaned against the counter as he spun one.

"Outer Rim to Deep Core, we've probably been in what, oh, about 200 different battles. Some big, some small. Usually, we'd sneak into an Imperial base, blow up some big target, and high-tail it out of there."

[Wyl Staedtler]

"Two hundred?" Wyl echoed, his voice rising to disappear in an incredulous squeak. "You're kiddin' me."

Mouth agape, the boy glanced from Dan to s'Il and back again, waiting in bated silence to see if they were indeed pulling his leg; two hundred! Why, that meant Wyl would have had to tussle almost twice a month for his entire life just to equal the number!

"Oh man. Oh man," the boy's voice was fervently excited, though the prospect of such a goldmine of war tales had left him rather breathless. Wyl grinned. "Can you tell me about some of 'em? S'for educational purposes."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il broke into a hidden grin at that, using the moment to removed the finished flatcake onto the plate. It hadn't taken long to make enough for the three of them, and moving on, she changed out flatcake batter for eggs, which she was certain to cook sunny-side up.

"One stands out quite well in memory," she spoke softly; a contrast to Wyl's own excited voice. A sidelong look was sent to Dan as she continued to cook, as well as a smirk.

"From many years before either you or Teagan were born."

The two eggs didn't take long, and she doled them out onto a separate plate before cracking two more into the pan.

"I believe the planet was called Belsavis. A Jedi Master had gone there to hide younglings during the Purge, and we were sent to rescue them."

[General Dan]

Dan nodded, remembering it immediately.

"The Emperor's spies back then were very quick to find the few Jedi that remained in hiding. We were a part of a large underground network that helped to get Jedi, like the both of you, from out of the Empire's clutches. Some we saved. Some we couldn't save."

He looked a bit distant, shaking his head.

"At least that one ended happily. One of our most successful missions. Twenty two rescued."

[Wyl Staedtler]

"That's a whole lot more than we ever helped at once," Wyl clucked, shaking his head. The boy paused, nose scrunching a bit. His in-laws probably didn't know what he meant. They hadn't gotten down to any of the nitty-gritty talk yet, the sort of conversations that happened between family members.

"I mean, on Coruscant," the boy clarified. "When I was younger'n still lived there, we used to help Jedi out sometimes. They used to come to our apartment; I guess it was sorta like a safehouse, until they could get away." Wyl shrugged. "But we only ever had one or two at once on account of it only being a two-bedroom 'cause rent is stupid in the city and 'cause they only ever came to the Core if it was absolutely necessary or unavoidable."

He canted his head to the side, thoughtfully. "Wouldn't it be cool if, um, one of those younglings that you saved hid with us when they got older? It could totally have happened. We could have been connected without even knowing it!"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The second pair of eggs cooked as quickly as the first, and with an easy motion s'Il slid them to the plate.

"Indeed, it's possible," she agreed casually.

Taking up a stack of three plates, she moved to the table and set them out. Flatware and glasses followed next, as well as napkins.

Returning to the counter, she picked up the small platter of flatcakes.

"You say 'we'," she mused thoughtfully, "... who did you live with?"

[Wyl Staedtler]

The effect was immediate. Like a sharp wind snuffing out a burning flame, Wyl's face grew dark and shuttered, a guarded pain glancing off his young features before disappearing as the boy gathered together the tumultuous threads of memory that still hung raw and ragged despite the passing of years.

He turned his back to the pair of them under the guise of reading the back of the syrup flask.

"My mother," Wyl said. Mother because that was what the dead became, hollow and formal impressions of the once treasured familiars they had been in vivid life.

When he turned to bring the sweet topping to the tabletop, only his stiff gait gave indication of the awful bubbling in his chest. Wyl smiled. "There's 22 grams of sugar in this stuff - coma city, awesome!"

[General Dan]

Dan met s'Il's eyes. He wasn't some psychologist, but he could tell there was something more to it going on than the boy let on.

Working with the flatcake platter, he divided the portions out to each plate.

"I suppose it's possible."

Dan nodded, eager to deflect the conversation back to the more conventional.

"There's a surprisingly vibrant community of underground Jedi. Has been for a while."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The look she shared with Dan was a worried one, but s'Il filed all of that away for a later time. Now was not when such deep and heavy matters should be discussed, and the boy's sharp change in attitude - the way he'd said 'mother'... the Jedi could feel him shutting himself away momentarily. She felt the pain as sharply as anything real and tactile.

It made her features fall, if only for a moment.

Taking the syrup, she also looked at the label.

"I was not aware that sugar causes one to fall into a coma," she murmured, trying to make heads or tails from what she was reading. It all looked like numbered gibberish.

[Wyl Staedtler]

Wyl shrugged. "That's what Morgan always says when he takes my sweets -that it's for my own good because too much sugar will cause a di-a-betus coma. I think he just likes Gummy Ewoks."

[General Dan]

"Well if you don't have any holes in your teeth yet, I think the latter part is still a ways off."

Dan shared the syrup, measuring out a saccharine dosage that rivalled Wyl's own. He was definitely a fan of the stuff.

"I think the fact that we've got folks - and we still do, mind you - but got them on Coruscant all through these years, means we're gonna pull this one out in the end. After all, if there's anywhere the Empire would be able to take care of us, you'd think it would be on Coruscant."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was something missing. She knew it, and with a furrowed brow, the Lupine leaned back in her seat to stare at her plate. There were the eggs, the shaak bacon, the flatcakes, the syrup...

Ah yes.

Standing, s'Il crossed the short distance to an upper cupboard, and opening it, she pulled down a jar of kalanut butter. She never ate flatcakes without it; Dan had his syrup lake, and s'Il had her kalanut butter with a light amount of syrup spread along the top.

"The human spirit is an amazing thing," she agreed while retaking her seat, "... and in all of my years I've never once seen a man or woman with convictions simply give in."

Her fork spread a measure of the creamy, brown spread over her flatcake, and catching the look Dan was giving her, the Lupine made a small face.

"Not all of us enjoy a greater ratio of syrup than actual flatcake."

[Wyl Staedtler]

Wyl laughed at that - who the heck didn't love syrup? - and then glanced at his mother-in-law's plate and had the decency to smother his amused disbelief to a bright smile. He circumvented what could have become an awkward exchange by forking a saturated wedge of flatcake into his mouth.

Chewing thoughtfully, the boy considered what Dan had said.

"Do you really think so?" He swallowed and used his shirt to wipe a slow trickle of syrup from his chin. "Do you think we'll win?"

[General Dan]

Dan nodded without a second thought.

"Of course I do. The Empire's thrown a galaxy's worth of machines and weapons at us, swatting at thin air. They build two Death Stars, and are still nowhere near a victory over an enemy that, in all honesty, sometimes barely has a weapon in their hand."

Pausing for a bite, he continued.

"At the root of it all, ours is a battle of ideas. We have the power to inspire. The only thing the Empire can do is to instill fear, and that only works for so long."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

With a well of infinite patience, s'Il slid a napkin over to rest at the side of Wyl's plate to give him something other than a sleeve to use.

"Inspiration is the most powerful tool we have."

She knifed her egg in half.

"It is a long road that we must travel, but at the end of our road it will be the most wonderful thing of all."