Hope over Sandwhiches (DeWitt/open)

[Morgan Evanar]

His wrist chrono informed him he was indeed running late by five minutes. The extra care to make sure that his route was safe, and that he was properly prepared to deal with whatever was hunting him caused the delay. The route he had taken from the Senate building was bordering on overly elaborate.

Perhaps he was being parinoid. Morgan glanced down at his recently healed left arm, the muscle surrounding it slightly more than subtly smaller than his right. Perhaps not.

After checking in with security, he walked to the middle of the room, and looked for Jackson.

There was indeed a flaw to his planing--the Jedi Master had no idea what Jackson DeWitt looked like. At all. Not even a clue as to species.

With a sigh, he started to scratch his head, and glanced at his wrist chrono once again.

[Jackson DeWitt]

Jackson drained another glass of water, sitting and waiting at a table in the center of the room, in a spot that was sure to catch Master Evanar's attention. Drinking the cool liquid down, Jackson closed his eyes, calming himself...and attempting to stretch out with his feelings. All he could feel at the moment however, was his own heart, beating in his throat. He willed it down, and relaxed. This would be his third attempt at seeking admission into the Order. He was far from losing hope, but frustration seemed to be a daily diet for him. His small stipends that he sent back to Tattooine barely covered his absence on the vaporator farm, and his family was beginning to lose patience in his dream chasing. While he hadn't made it to the Order, Jackson was holding two jobs, attending trade school, and found time to rigorously work out. He'd even attended services at a Rodian temple. Even though he wasn't a member of the Rodian faith, Jackson figured a little spiritualism couldn't hurt, and he needed inspiration immensely.

So now, he waited for Master Evanar, and his verdict on his chances. Most had told him that he was nuts, but there were a few out there who supported his impossible dream.

[Morgan Evanar]

Another sigh. Morgan was never very good at reading others. Probably average at best. Slowly he took a deep breath, and tried to navigate the emotional soup around him. Nervous people abounded, so he nixed that quickly as a search focus. Another deep breath...

Morgan paused, trying to guess what Jackson might be feeling. Desperate? Maybe. Determined? Likely. But he was probably riding hope. Hope. He exhaled, and dove in. Jedi felt hope, the ones that were there, so did an unfamiliar face in the middle of the room.

The kid was short, stocky, nervous, hopeful, and determined. Water. No money, an interest in one's health, or both. Both, Morgan decided.

"Jackson DeWitt?"

[Jackson DeWitt]

"Yessir?"

Jackson looked up from his seat, eyes seeming to brighten at the sight of the Jedi Master. He rose from his seat, wiping the condensation from his glass on the leg of his pants, before extending it to Morgan.

"Pleasure to meet you, Master Evanar."

He smiled.

"I'm glad you could find time to respond to my letter, and meet with me. I don't wanna be a burden, so I'll try not to take up too much of your time."

He looked from Morgan to the table, gesturing back.

"D'you wanna take a seat, sir? Anything to drink?"

[Morgan Evanar]

He smiled as he shook Jackson's smaller hand and took a seat.

"Water, please. Jackson, I've set aside the better part of the afternoon, so, by all means, take your time." Jackson looked slightly relieved.

"In the letter you said something about being rejected, and most just leave it at that. Is there any particular reason for your persistence, aside from being very far from home with very little to your name?"

[Jackson DeWitt]

"Well..."

Jackson paused, pouring Morgan a cup of water from a nearby pitcher.

"...you ever had a dream before, sir? Not just like going to sleep and being somewhere else. But like there's a part of you that knows something that the other part of you can't believe, but its just as right? I have a dream to be a Jedi. I've listened to the stories, and I've been brought up with a serious conviction, knowing between right and wrong, and where my place on the dividing line was. My folks are hard working, but they can't do much else but fend for our family. I look up to them for that, because they are heroes the only way they know how to be. But...I ask myself, if I don't strive for this, am I really as heroic, seeing that I know what I must do, and somehow I sell myself short."

He laughed a little, and shook his head.

"I'm used to naysayers, sir...so if you're wondering why I'm here, that's fine by me. I don't reckon there are a lot of folks who would take one look at me and see something worth lookin at. But I'll tell you, sure as there's a sun shining over us now, that I won't ever quit. You've got my word on that."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan stared hard into the half empty glass of water. To have Jackson become his Padawan would be a rather fast way to kill his aspirations. Despite his Master rank, Morgan's track record with learners was abysmal.

"Well lad, I'll tell you what: find yourself a Master or Knight amoung the Jedi willing to train you, and you're in. I'd take you, but I'm not an ideal person to train anyone, except teaching Senators not to cut each other's throats."

[Jackson DeWitt]

"Can you do that, sir?"

Jackson's eyes widened, bright and at the same time, uncertain.

"I mean...with the others saying no and all? I don't want to be a burden to anyone, and I don't want any special treatment. If you think I'm up to the task, that's all I want to know, is all."

[Morgan Evanar]

"Jackson, this isn't special treatment. Tis a chance, and an acknowledgement of effort."

He smiled. "The only question is if your master will have the same amount of patience as you do. Things will come slow, but they'll come along."

Morgan picked up a fork and twirled it between his fingers.

"Fact of the matter is, I didn't know how to use the Force to do things more quickly, willfully, until I was a Knight." The fork and his fingers slowly became a blur of silver and flesh.

"Took some practice and perserverance."

[Jackson DeWitt]

Jackson's eyes were transfixed on the amazing feat of grace, deftness, and speed shown by the Jedi Master. After a long moment, he found his voice again.

"S-sir, I got perseverance in spades. That much, you don't have to worry about."

He could feel his heart beating in his throat, and swallowed deeply.

"So, you mean to tell me...that if I find a willing Knight or Master...to train me....that its okay, I mean with the Council and everything?"

Time itself seemed to slow for Jackson, awaiting Master Evanar's response.

[Morgan Evanar]

The Jedi Master nodded.

"Aye lad. The worst thing you can do is frustrate them." He said with a chuckle, and whistled one of the serving driods down.

"Biggest burger the chef can find with yllinth cheese and extra mushrooms and garlic. You want anything Jackson?"

[Jackson DeWitt]

"This is the greatest day of my life!"

Jackson bolted up from his seat, which fell backwards. Hastily, he turned around, righting his seat up, only to see it fall over once more. He set it up again, but didn't sit down."

"Master Evanar...thanks for the help, sir! I'd sit down for some chow, but...I can't rightfully afford it, and I got an awful lot of work to do, if what you say is true."

He moved to run off, but paused, whirling around, and grabbing Morgan by the hand, shaking energetically.

"Thank you, thank you...you won't regret it sir!"

Grinning like a kid in a candy store, Jackson hopped clear over the chair, bolting out of the B&G, leaping at the doorway to slap the top of the door frame as he went.

"Wahoo!!!"