The Theory of the Force

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was mid-afternoon. Peaceful, without interruption, no incoming comms to call her away from her rest. Everything about her short stay thus far had been a mostly quiet affair, despite the underlying worry that she couldn't help but feel. She was here under the good graces of the Council, but those good graces would not continue on into perpetuity, she knew well enough. As things stood, her ship would be arriving in two day's time; by then she would be ready to vacate, and ready to resume her assigned duties. The recuperation time allotted to her had been gratefully received, but she had no desire to test the bounds of what had already been allowed. As it was, there was no doubt a mountain of 'pads and flimsis waiting for her, each one piled high atop her desk.

Standing in the fresher, the Lupine gave a final inspection to her healed wounds; no scars. Good.

She reached behind her, palm resting on her spine and the marred, silver-burned cross head permanently pressed into her flesh. It was a lasting reminder - among many - of her terrible deeds from before.

A mismatched pair of eyes stared at her from her reflection in the mirror, and s'Il let out a long sigh as her hand fell away before reaching over to grasp at the off-white undertunic she'd hung on the doorknob. Shrugging it on, she looked back at herself. She was practically swimming in the thing; it fell to just above her knees, and satisfied she wrapped it closed, holding it together as she opened the door.

The sunlight in the bedroom filtered through partially opened blinds, giving everything inside a soft glow. It was almost other-worldly, and she couldn't help the light smile that passed over her features.

But, it was the man that was currently sitting on the edge of the bed that drew her eyes, causing a bare heh to escape from behind her lips.

She'd felt his presence before she'd even left the shower, but it still was a pleasant surprise to see him. It always was. When she spoke, her voice was airy and teasing. It was a tone that matched the sideways amused look she gave him as her free hand opened the closet, fingers slicing between the hung garments inside until they closed around one of her laundered uniforms.

She pulled it free.

"Don't you have a Padawan that you should be off training right now?"

[Zem Vymes]

Zem grimaced at Lok's needling, not needing much of a reminder of how difficult young Farran was to handle.

"I gave her some guided study work in the old temple, so she should have her hands full of old books today. Figure the best way to challenge her preconceptions is to show her the wisdom of Jedi who came before all of us."

He sighed, which rolled into an easy laugh.

"And...I needed a break. She's exhausting, and I'll be honest, I might be getting too old for this sort of thing."

Vymes rose to his feet, meeting Lok halfway. He placed his hands around her waist before landing a soft kiss on her lips.

"But not too old for everything."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

In this house, held in his embrace, it was a wondrous yet strange feeling of belonging and a sense that things were... right. Of course, it was a sad fact that the duties required of each of them made that rightness temporary. But, she was willing to shunt those notions to the side for the time being, and to exist in the moment. She had treasured her recovery time, using it to heal in both body and soul. To be with her children, to be with Zem, it was - all of it - so much more needed than she had imagined. Had she been so stretched thin? So pulled taut that her psyche was starved for something resembling a normal existence? It was. And she accepted that.

His hands holding her close, his scent filling her nostrils... it was all a heady concoction that nearly served to send her veering away from her intended course. With one hand still holding her uniform and the other making sure that the borrowed undertunic of his that she'd pilfered remained closed, the Lupine couldn't help the knowing grin that pulled back at the corners of her mouth as their lips met. It felt as though they were younger, yet without the everpresent threat of the Empire. When they had shared a bunk wherever they'd been needed; for as much as their comrades had needed them, they had needed each other. She still remembered the salvaged room on Malastare, and the bare-bones room on Talay. A host of other memories from those old times seemed to play out in her mind's eye, only to eventually be superseded by where they were now. In a home that he'd had built. For them. On Ossus. In a quiet room at the back of the house, alone. Teagan was in class, and the nanny droid had taken Markos on a small roundabout walk before she was to meet them for a round of vaccinations at the infirmary.

Zem's arrival hadn't been expected, but it also wasn't unwanted, either.

Still in his hold, s'Il let her upper body lean back ever-so-slightly as their lips parted, her neck craning so that she could look up at him.

"Well, Master Jedi," the uniform and its' hanger were casually dropped onto the bed, and her now-free hand shifted to run slender fingers up his neck and along his jawline, her palm coming to rest on his cheek.

"... perhaps then you can make me something for lunch. I have to be at the infirmary in half an hour to make sure Markos takes his immunizations without fuss."

[Zem Vymes]

"Ah, now I see why you're being so nice. Just angling for a free lunch."

He winked, then cracked a grin as he parted his embrace.

"Best get seconds. When you're back on that ship, you'll miss food this fresh. I'll go ahead and make you something nice. Just got a box delivered from Anbira this morning actually. The zuffig roots smell great."

Zem took the short series of steps to the kitchen and began to wash and prep the produce. The autochef unit anchored to one end of the counter helped, and saved the Jedi the most tedious part of the work - the basic trimming and knife work. It allowed him to focus more of his attention on Loklorien. She had that look on her face again - the one she got when she was trying to take in every sight and experience, as if she were saving them for lean days.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Changing into her uniform had become a task that she'd gotten very good at, and completed swiftly. It was only made quicker by the fact that she remained barefoot. No need to put on her boots until she was stepping out the door.

A meandering stride sent her down the short hallway and into the kitchen area, eyes taking everything in. The walls were clean and bare, and what few shelves that were about held a collection of both Zem's and Teagan's possessions. It was easy to tell which were her daughter's; a fist-sized chunk of red obsidian, a bowl full of fizzy-pop caps, a few old books from s'Il's own collection (she had wondered where they'd gotten to), a stuffed lothcat, a small holocube that cycled through holos of the girl with various friends, and even a bit of driftwood that had a carabiner loosely tied to it with thin leather strips.

Her duty jacket was pulled on, but she refrained from buttoning it just yet.

She fingered the bottom hasp, deep in thought as her roaming gaze finally made it to Zem.

A silence held for a few moments before she blinked, looking away and towards the main living area.

"It's nice to finally see it."

[Zem Vymes]

And seeing her reaction made it worth it. Zem allowed an unguarded smile when she turned back to look at the living area. Teagan was right - this was something that was deeply needed on a scale you couldn't quantify. Zem followed her into the living area.

"Not many of our kind get an honest chance at living a normal life. I can't promise you that, but I think this gets us as close as we can otherwise.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

That people in each of their professions had little chance for a life of normalcy was a gross understatement. They both had chosen to live lives that demanded such desires of a settled existence be shelved and - in some instances - cast aside. The old Order had forbidden such things, and the life of an Alliance officer, depending, was entangled in comings and goings that allowed little or no time for anything such as a family. Even in these times, with the Treaty, it was a particularly tricky thing to navigate. And during those early days? It was something that was simply not thought of for its' utter preposterous nature.

But here, and now?

In the immediate, the thought of living quietly... it was a fantasy that had come a few steps closer to reality. And while the barriers of duty and responsibility still kept it at a distance, the notion had gained a far more substantial footing. She was not exactly ready, but the desire was still there all the same. It did not exactly help that her standing within this new Jedi Order was still very much in question, but something of that nature was as bound by the will of the Council as anything else on Ossus.

She smiled, a slow expression that was accompanied by a single hand that reached gently over to take his own in a firm grip, fingers winding together with his.

Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

"It's perfect."

[Farran Esrimoure]

* * *

This was infuriating.

Every book that she seemed to pick up... as soon as she read a few passages... the Jedi were nothing like what Master Davola had said they were. Oh, there were a few similarities, but the big stuff? The main tenets? Nothing was the same. It was enough to make her scowl, and off by herself in the library, Farran snapped yet another of the old books closed. She'd amassed a sizable tower thus far, but each one had brought her no closer to pairing everything she'd learned growing up to the reality of what had actually taken place in the halls of the old Jedi Temple.

It was enough to make her sit back in her chair. A few minutes of thought passed, and Farran finally pushed her current reading material aside. Taking a few of the hide-bound books from the top, she set them to her left along with two datapads. The chair slid back, and she gathered her chosen books, leaving the rest on the table before starting for the wrap-around desk that was the checkout.

Five minutes later and she was stepping out into the afternoon sun with a small armload.

Master Vymes had sent her on this wild tooke chase, and she was determined to not let him get the better of her... again. No, she would take what she felt necessary from the library and return to him with little time wasted. No doubt he expected her to be pent up for a decent enough amount of time.

Passing another pair of students on their way in through the double doors, Farran began the trek to her Master's home.


* * *

[Zem Vymes]

Zem smirked. It was a wry and nuanced expression, starting in his eyes.

"Perfect is such an absolute term. Where do you go from there? I think its rare to find contentment. To find something, and say it's good, and know that's enough come what may. I think that sums us up. This is good. We are good. I have no idea what tomorrow brings, but I'm comforted. That's enough."

He gave her a little kiss, and went back to work in the kitchen.

"It makes me wonder sometimes, how our Order came into a dogma of self denial. Was their discipline admirable? Or did they refuse to ask the right questions. Things like that, they come to me a lot now. Here and there. In many ways, the sun's dawning here the way it rarely has for the Jedi. In the shadow of some very ancient knowledge, we face our past every day. Clear-eyed, I hope. We get to ask questions that maybe our masters did not."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

His musings made her take a moment, falling back into memories of long ago and their lives at the Temple. Before the Purge. Of the countless lessons ingrained in her and her fellow Padawans. Of the rules and codes of conduct that was meant to define their each of their existences going forward. In the end, what had she taken away from those long hours of study and lecture?

It was something that she held close to her, and had come to realize over the course of both wonderful and terrible actions alike.

Love and fear had brought the Jedi to their knees, in the form of Anakin Skywalker, but it was also love that had redeemed him.

And her.

Through the events in all of their lives, everything they had all ever done seemed a cycle of love and fear, and in those rare, joyous occasions, redemption.

She sighed as the present returned, and the Lupine moved then, stepping forward so that she could lower herself into the chair that Teagan had said was Zem's favorite. As she sat, there was little doubt as to why; the soft, supple leather held comfort brought on by most likely many years of use, and her body seemed to sink into its' depths.

Her boots and a pair of socks had been set beside it earlier in the morning, and these she reached for now.

"I... think, that the Order we grew up in... it had forgotten some things. I wouldn't say abandoned, but just... forgot. I was not at the Temple when Master Jinn was there, but I've heard enough stories about him to make the guess that he was trying to remember those things, and encourage others to remember as well."

She pulled on one sock, and then the other.

"Institutional wisdom can be as dangerous as the Dark Side, I believe."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem retrieved the processed zuffig root from the autochef, setting it aside. He heated a dome-bottomed pan, pouring a scant amount of oil from a glass flask down the side, pivoting it regularly as it began to heat up. Lok's words had the sagacity of someone who had lived on both sides of the divide. Zem met her eyes.

"I would be foolish to disagree with you. There is plenty of danger and destruction done without a dark intent driving it. For every one hateful being in this galaxy, there are a hundred indifferent ones. Maybe more. It makes the mission to communicate to those people all the more important. Maybe Qui Gon Jinn saw it that way. Anbira claims to have heard his spirit. I would also be foolish to disagree with him."

The zuffig root went into the pan with a sizzle, filling the kitchen a moment later with an appealing aroma.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I've heard of Mr. Hicchoru and his... second sight."

The notion of Force Ghosts was one still approached with caution on her part. She could not exactly understand why, but it was something that she felt apart from. It unnerved her. Dreams were one thing, but an entity that was still involved with the living after escaping the mortal coil, it was a foreign and perplexing thing for her to consider.

But, it did not mean that she could not harbor a small amount of curiosity over what she knew of Anbira Hicchoru.

"Have you seen the spirits that he communes with?"

[Zem Vymes]

He shook his head.

"I have not. Some of the young pupils claimed to see them when the wheel was still in space, but I haven't heard of anyone else. There is some old writing on the phenomenon in the old library, but it's unfortunately incomplete with age."

Zem added more diced vegetables, giving a brisk shake of the pan.

"Recovering incomplete wisdom, I think, is going to be a task that occupies the Jedi well after both you and I are long gone."

[Farran Esrimoure]

* * *

The small pathway that led to Master Vymes' home was navigated with ease, as she'd often enough by now made this particular trip plenty of times. She was a small force of perturbed confusion and frustration, with her arms laden with old books and a few datapads. Applications in Meditation, Practical Existence Within The Force, Theories and Summations of the Old Masters had been her tomes of choice, and Farran had every intention of setting each one out for her Master to explain to her; or rather, explain why he had insisted that she read them.

Heavy footfalls brought her up the few stairs and onto the simple deck of kingwood planks that spanned the length of the front of the house.

With a booted foot, she gave the front door a few gentle-ish kicks.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The sudden sound of footsteps pulled her attentions away, and for a moment the Lupine wondered if it was her oldest, for some reason eschewing her classes in favor of being home. It caused a brief scowl to fall over her features, but the expression was swept away, to be replaced by one of curiosity at the storm of feelings that she could feel just outside the door, and the sharp rapping of a boot to the lower portion of the door.

Her footwear hadn't been slid on just yet, and slowly standing back up, she tracked her eyes back toward Zem.

"Are you expecting guests?"

[Zem Vymes]

Lok's question elicited a brief look of confusion on Zem's face. Of course, his senses followed the source of the sound a moment later, and the expression softened into one of familiarity. He sighed, giving his fiancee an almost apologetic glance.

"Yes and no."

He'd sent his pupil on an assignment of knowledge and discovery in the old library, that much he knew. He also fully expected young Farran to be ready at their next encounter with a barrage of questions. He simply hadn't anticipated it would be so soon.

"It looks like it might be lunch for three today. A working lunch."

Not taking a break from the kitchen, Zem reached a hand out towards the front door. The knob twisted gently, and the door creaked open.

"Come in, Farran."

[Farran Esrimoure]

She needed no other bidding, and Farran, with arms full, shouldered her way into the home of her Master without so much as a 'hello'. Instead, she was frowning. Her brow was knit in heavy thought as she halfway pivoted to push the door closed once more with a rather deft hip-check.

"Out of all the books in that old library," she started with a huff while turning back around, "... the only ones that I could find were - "

And at the sight that met her eyes, she stopped. She'd not expected for there to be anyone else here, and if there was it would've more than likely been the younger girl that also lived with Master Vymes. Instead, Farran simply stared at the one-eyed woman who was very obviously in the Alliance Navy if one were to go by the uniform. It was rather distinct.

"... um... "

She swallowed, blinked rapidly, then quickly cut her gaze to Master Vymes who was currently inhabiting the kitchen. Was he making food?

"... do I need to come back later?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Ah, no. No need to leave."

Her reassurance was swift, and s'Il allowed herself a moment to look over this girl that Zem had taken on. She looked flustered enough as it was, and to send her back out the door seemed... not right?

Farran Esrimoure. The once-Padawan of one Master Elys Davola. The books she'd brought with her spoke a fair bit to her dedication; or at least the Lupine hoped. Master Davola had been a strong proponent of the written word back at the Temple, and even when she'd com across him on Helska IV he'd retained that tendency, having written his own massive volumes of what he'd come to envision the Jedi as. Such a shame. A man so devoted to a waning art, taken to the brink and beyond of madness.

"Stay. We were... " her eye went to Zem then, "... well, he was simply preparing lunch. There is enough for another, yes?"

[Zem Vymes]

"Not at all, not at all. Come sit."

Zem gestured to the living room, giving Farran preference on where she chose to be seated.

"I'm making enough to go around. Have you met Captain s'Ilancy?"

He gestured to his fiancee.

"Farran Esrimore, this is Captain Loklorien s'Ilancy, of the Alliance of Free Planets. Lok, this is Farran Esrimore, my student."

A few more shakes of the pan to keep food from sticking, and Zem continued introductions.

"Farran, the Captain and I go back many years. All the way to the Clone Wars."

[Farran Esrimoure]

She was staring.

A few seconds later she let her eyes track back to Master Vymes, and with a quick nod, Farran took a few more steps further into the living area. She set her small armload on a rustic-looking wooden endtable that had aged brass accents along the edge.

Captain. Captain? She had a ship? The one-eyed woman looked too small and waifish to be a captain of anything; bony hands, an almost skeletal petite figure, sunken cheeks... what sorts of people did the Alliance let be in charge of their ships? But, she at least maintained a small bit of decorum.

"Ma'am," she finally got out, giving a respectful nod.

She didn't really sit down just yet, as her inspection of the other woman overtook everything else. The Clone Wars?

It was a strange notion, as she found herself looking from Captain s'Ilancy to Master Vymes, then back again.

"You age better."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Zem had said that she was different.

For the first time in a long while, she felt a smile come unbidden to her lips, and the Lupine let out a laugh. She cast her gaze to Zem, letting herself lower back down into her seat once more while in the same motion reaching over for one of her boots.

"Sometimes good genes mean you get to age more gracefully than your peers," she chuckled.

[Zem Vymes]

Lok demurred, and Farran for her part was displaying unusual social grace. Zem continued to put together lunch for them all, taking a cursory glance at the small stack of old books his pupil had brought with her.

"I see that you've found some reading of interest. What did you find?"

[Farran Esrimoure]

The laugh was a little bit unexpected. Farran pulled a strange face before her Master's words brought her back, and her eyes shifted to the books.

"Mostly old books," she started before reaching over to grab the 'pad that lay atop the others. With the scents of a home-cooked lunch filling her nostrils, she thumbed it on so that she could scroll through its' contents.

"But I grabbed this thing; it had passages from some old journals that I guess have to do with how we're supposed to live with the Force. Seems all a bit up in the clouds to me."

The Captain had gone to sit down and put on boots, so Farran took the initiative, stepping into the kitchen area and setting the 'pad on the counter.

"I guess it makes sense, if you lived in trees and talked to the wind or whatever it was the old Masters did before building their Temple on Coruscant."

She took to hovering then, staying just outside of Master Vymes' direct path but all the same drawn in by the meal of... whatever... that he was putting together.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The act of slipping on her boots was as second-nature as donning her uniform had become. It was all rote and comfortable. She did at least keep her attentions on the girl, noting the slight tone of frustration in her voice as she spoke. Of course, it wasn't difficult to tell that the smell of food had done well to distract her, and as she pulled tight the zipper clasp on her boot, the Lupine couldn't help but angle her head, affording the pair a sideways look of amusement - Zem going about preparing their lunch, and his Padawan orbiting him like a curious and close-to-starving nexu.

It was almost like looking back in time, and she couldn't help the smirk that pulled the corners of her lips back.

"Careful, he's liable to check any pilfering hands with that wooden spoon of his."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem stopped a brisk round of stirring with that comment, giving Lok a little smirk before sharply tapping the residue off the spoon's edge. He looked to Farran and nodded approvingly.

"That sounds like a good choice. Seeking perspective is sometimes useful. Not everyone comes to a life with the Jedi on the same path. It can help to respect those differences, and look a little deeper."

He paused.

"Salt."

An expecting glance at Farran.

"Behind you, on the right, please."

[Farran Esrimoure]

The words from Captain s'Ilancy caused a sudden flash of worry on her face, but Master Vymes' call for salt quickly cut through and gave her pause. She stared at him, blinked, then finally let her eyes roam helplessly until he further guided her to where it was kept. Quickly she reached out, one hand closing around the strange metal container. It looked like some sort of hammered and shaped representation of a tiny Anteevian snowbear.

"Here."

Holding it out to him, Farran once more let her eyes shift to the Captain.

"Are you a Jedi, too?"

She certainly didn't exactly look like one, but it was a question that couldn't help but be asked.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a small bit of surprise at the question, and s'Il allowed herself the momentary luxury of enjoying the chair's comfort before leaning forward and rising tos tand.

She brushed at the front of her uniform jacket out of habit.

"Not... exactly."

It was still a murky subject, and one that would take a long while to suss out.

"Well, not anymore, at least. But, yes. I used to be."

[Zem Vymes]

Rather than shaking the salt directly into the dish, Zem carefully dispensed into the palm of his hand, giving a careful eye to the quantity before he finally turned his palm under to release seasoning into the dish. He resumed stirring.

"Illustrative to your lesson choice, my Padawan. The Captain has taken a...different path."

Zem paused, meeting Lok's eyes.

"Sometimes, the force informs us in interesting ways."

[Farran Esrimoure]

Not a Jedi. But, she had once been of the Order...

She took in Master Vymes' words, but her thoughts gyrated wildly to the time on Helska IV, and of the stories that Master Davola had often regaled her with.

"Is this new Order not as the old, then? Not as grand as the one that you grew into? Is it not the same?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her previous discussion with Zem from what seemed like ages ago came swiftly to the forefront, as did her time spent with Master Davola on Helska IV. She knew the direction that Farran was trying to steer the conversation.

"This Order is as it is supposed to be; what was on Coruscant in those old days was not the same, but it was not entirely different, either."

Taking a few steps, the Lupine moved to stand on the opposite side of the cooking island that Zem and Farran inhabited.

"The Jedi are not godlike; they never were. They are not ones to be set upon pedestals of perfection."

[Zem Vymes]

Seeing everything in the pan turning to his liking, Zem turned off the heat, and moved the pan to a waiting trivet to allow it to rest. Lok's words were, a little sharp-edged. Not out of any ill feeling, but that was just her nature. He spoke to his student to help ease the corners a bit.

"The Order has always placed value on wisdom. The gathering of, preservation, and evolution. Without those three things, we become blind, either through careless forgetfulness or blinkered by dogma. There were things that the Jedi Order of our youth didn't see in time. When they did, it was nearly too late. It takes wisdom to keep the old ways, but just as much to recognize when they need to change.

He smiled sheepishly, again reaching for his spoon.

"Its not easy to explain, and its not easy to put into practice. You have to trust in the Force."

Zem opened a nearby cupboard, extracting three plain-looking plates.

"We can talk about it, but let's eat."

[Farran Esrimoure]

The smell of whatever Master Vymes was cooking, coupled with the words he spoke, seemed to awaken a hungry beast within her gut that she'd not been aware of. Idly she set herself into motion, reaching for the plates as her Master held them out for her to take. Deep in thought, the young woman took them to the table, setting them out with little fanfare; there was no ceremony to be had here. It was one of the first things that she'd learned after becoming Master Vymes' learner - he was the polar opposite of Master Davola. Rather than hinging upon ritual, he preferred to simply act and exist in as normal a fashion as he could. That he was cooking their lunch himself was evident enough of that fact, and Farran couldn't help but look at the books that she'd set down. She'd lightly skimmed one of them, finding herself at a bit of a loss with the words held within. It was why she'd tromped her way back here, to ask for clarification.

But it seemed that Master Vymes and his penchant for simple living had gotten the better of that intention, and momentarily dashed her expectations once more against the rocks of reality. The Jedi - were they as Master Davola had said they were? Or were they flawed beings like everyone else in the galaxy? Everything she was learning here seemed to indicate the latter, and it was perplexing.

Slowly, Farran sank into a chair before shooting back up again, remembering that they would need silverware to eat with.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The gears turning in the girl's head were obvious enough, and coming around the edge of the cooking island, s'Il bade her to sit once more.

"I'll get them," she assured gently.

A drawer was pulled open, and three forks pulled out from its' depths. Her free hand reached over, arm brushing against Zem's shoulder as her fingers deftly pulled three disposable serving towels from their stand in the corner of the countertop. She felt at home here, in this environment and with the man that had had it built. But, it was more than the physical. It was the unseen feelings and air of the place that made it whole. Made it home.

[Farran Esrimoure]

The Captain's reassurance was in some ways exactly opposite, and watching as the waifish blonde went about grasping the utensils that they would be using was a strange, almost out-of-body affair. She stared at this woman who had been - as Master Vymes said - about during the Clone Wars. Her curiosity was almost insatiable, as she felt a wash of memories pour over her. All of the things that Master Davola had told her, and all of the experiences that he had claimed to have...

"Did you know Master Davola? Elys Davola?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was a question that cut to the heart of more than what was seen on the surface. This girl, asking about a Mad Jedi and his insanity... or at least asking about whether or not she knew him...

For the moment, s'Il angled her head down, a partial nod of affirmation as she moved to place the forks that she'd collected beside the plates already placed upon the table.

"I remember him, yes."

[Zem Vymes]

They all began to eat, though Farran's appetite was tempered by her equal hunger for knowledge. At first, Zem said nothing, simply eating in silence. He and Farran had discussed Master Davola enough. It was time for perhaps some added perspective, no matter what that entailed.

[Farran Esrimoure]

"He used to tell me stories of the old Jedi Temple, and he showed me old holos of it, too."

She speared a small bit of food onto her fork, shoved it into her mouth, then chewed in thought as her memories of those old holos filled her mind. Swallowing, the girl went on.

"It looked big."

Master Zem didn't really say anything, instead focusing on his food, and with a shade of a frown, Farran knew that talking of her old Master seemed to be something he had no interest in.

To that end, she looked to the Captain.

"What was Master Davola like?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She was expecting the question, but still chose to delay the answer with a sip from her glass of water.

"He was quiet, from what I remember."

Her voice was level and low.

"Back then however, I was just a Padawan, and my exposure to many of the other Masters was minimal; especially when the Clone Wars began."

[Zem Vymes]

"What she means is that often we were separated on vastly different campaigns." Zem added after a sip of water.

"The Captain and I, we were sent to the Outer Rim Sieges. Carshoulis. Dantooine. Mygeeto. Master Davola was involved in another campaign."

[Farran Esrimoure]

"A campaign over Helska IV," she finished without thought, picking at her food with her fork.

"He used to tell me that the old Temple was full of artifacts and relics, and that it was the most important place in the galaxy."

Finally she took another bite, then washed it down with her own water.

"He used to say that all roads led to the Temple."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

They were starting down a road that Zem had warned her of, and s'Il blinked as she thought on her response. It was difficult to send through a filter of patience, considering she had been involved in the old madman's death. She knew how terribly the sickness of pride had eaten away at his mind, and how it had turned him into a monster.

"For some, those roads did indeed lead to the Temple. But not all."

She gave a bare frown then, as she went on.

"Master Davola was quiet the times that I saw him, but he was also very knowledgeable and kind."

[Zem Vymes]

"He carried with him a great knowledge of the history of the Jedi and the force." Zem added, spearing a bite of food but being noncommittal about it.

"Knowledge is also tempered by one's experiences. You may say that all roads lead to the temple, but by that point you can also say that from the temple, roads can lead anywhere. I think you'll find among those who survived that no two paths are the same."

[Farran Esrimoure]

"Like the two of you," she mused idly, her eyes going from Master Vymes to the Captain, then back to Master Vymes.

"Did you know back then, that you would be here, now? Master Davola used to tell me that he could see the future through the Force, and had told me that he'd foreseen my family's arrival on Helska IV years before it happened."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Core be blown, no," she couldn't help but chuckle. It was a bit of light-heartedness that she allowed herself, since the subject matter was decidedly deep. It would do no one any good to maintain too serious of an outlook here, now, over lunch.

"As a matter of fact, I found Master Vymes to be completely insufferable all those years ago, and was convinced that he would get himself killed within a week of the Sieges."

[Zem Vymes]

Zem conceded that point with a smile and a nod towards Lok, but he was thinking about the larger question Farran had asked.

"There are those among us with a talent for foresight. Sometimes, it can appear clear and plain. Other times, we only see a part of the full view. It is one of the most difficult things a Jedi can comprehend, because the future is not a static thing. It exists in frames of possibility - moving and shifting and becoming all the time. The future changes as we ourselves change."

[Farran Esrimoure]

"Oh."

With a piece of whatever it was Master Vymes had made on her fork, Farran brought it to her mouth. She chewed as she thought, and after swallowing, speared another bite.

A question nagged at her, then, and she looked squarely to Master Vymes.

"Did your master ever... try to show you... how to see the future?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Now that was an interesting question, but not for what exactly Farran had asked. An inquisitive look was sent to Zem in that moment, as she swallowed her own mouthful, and s'Il allowed herself the informal act of resting an elbow on the table, and her chin in her hand as she looked intently at him.

"And while we're at it, who exactly was your master?"

[Zem Vymes]

Zem pivoted his head deliberately at Lok, arching an eyebrow at her question.

"You never knew who I trained under?"

A moment passed. Nothing.

"Huh."

Vymes turned his attention back to Farran.

"Well, something new for you both then. I trained under Master Saessee Tiin. As far as seeing the future went, I think the furthest we went in depth on the matter was being half a second ahead of a missile when in the cockpit of a starfighter."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"You were a knight when we first met," she mused idly, taking in this bit of news with interest.

"... and as such, the matter of your tutelage never... came up."

Was it that strange notion of Fate that so many Jedi and Sith clung to? That both of their masters had gone to confront Darth Sidious, and were both killed by that mad, dark creature? For her, it was a fairly interesting coincidence.

"Hm."

It was an almost airy sound as she looked upon him in a new light. It was refreshing.

"Master Tiin was a consummate swordsman."

[Zem Vymes]

"Well," Zem chewed on the thought as he chewed a bite of food. Eventually, he settled on the downplay, "We can't all be attentive students."

He couldn't fully commit, however, and a little smile creased on his face.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was a strange expression that she gave him in that moment, and s'Il couldn't help the look of feigned admonishment, though the glint in her eye was the true telling of her amusement at his words. She herself allowed the corners of her lips to turn up just a small bit, and the Lupine finally gave a shake of her head as she returned to her food.

"Well, be all of that as it may, I think that this new revelation is quite enlightening."

She turned her attentions to Farran, then.

"Tell me, has Master Vymes blindfolded you and made you run through the woods yet? Or perhaps thrown overripe fruit at you?"

[Farran Esrimoure]

She was in the middle of chewing, but the Captain's question was enough to catch her slightly off-guard, and she stopped for a brief moment before hurriedly swallowing.

"I... no?"

Blinking as she looked from one to the other, her eyes finally settled upon her master.

"Will you be throwing fruit at me?"

It was a perplexing notion, and a shade less austere than what Master Davola had told her of the Jedi.

[Zem Vymes]

Zem's expression went unreadable as he turned over another forkful on his plate.

"We've already established that I'm only so skilled at seeing into the future."

He relented with a smile, taking another bite.

"Teaching finds yourself alive in the moment. If you're asking if I have a curriculum, young Farran, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you. I doubt you'll disappoint me, however. What I've learned this far along is that it isn't just what you teach, but how. Everyone responds differently."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her meal was half-finished, and the Lupine kept her words to herself, instead opting to chew, swallow, and enjoy the meal that Zem had prepared. She looked at Farran from over the tops of her eyes, curious about the girl's reaction.

[Farran Esrimoure]

Again she was stumped, and her expression pinched into one of unsure thought. The first stages of unlearning everything she had ever been taught was... arduous.

"As you say," she finally got out.

[Zem Vymes]

"Is it?"

Zem raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Setting aside his utensil for a moment, he laced his fingers together in front of his plate.

"You sound uncertain. Talk out your conflict. What's holding you back?"

[Farran Esrimoure]

"Not conflicted," she said around a mouthful, and swallowing, Farran went on.

"Just curious."

Her fork stilled, as she pursed her lips in thought.

Eventually, she found herself at a point where those thoughts had coalesced into something she could put to words.

"Am I supposed to forget everything I learned from before? Whatever you teach me now, is that what I should've learned from Master Davola?"

[Zem Vymes]

"If you forget what you've learned, you are imperiled to make mistakes that wisdom wards you against. No, what you have learned from Master Davola is important. It is the background into which you were formed. However, we all must continue to learn. That eternal pursuit makes us better Jedi - better people."

Zem smiled, looking from Loklorien to Farran.

"I see a lot of similarities that bind you. When I taught Loklorien, she herself carried knowledge from her former master that often times was at odds with my own experiences. I did not assert myself. I offered what I could give and what could be learned, and trusted my student to grow with it."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She only offered a fleeting, ghostly smile at his last words, and s'Il allowed herself to sit back in her seat for a few moments. Her fork was set down, and she pulled in a long breath, as if she was relishing the words in the air as much as the scents swirling through her olfactory senses. All of this was fascinating in a way, to see now, from the outside, how Zem chose to go about teaching a student.

She could still remember so many long years past, of their time on Pakuuni, in the small hut and the days spent learning. Happiness, frustration, melancholy, contentment, there had been many emotions found there, as well as many lessons learned. Lessons she could never forget. Lessons that she had grown from.

"What you learn before will always be with you. It learns to meld with what you learn after,. It is a unique understanding that belongs to no one but yourself."

[Zem Vymes]

"Farran, when we first met, you were scaling a cliff. That was what Master Davola taught you. And though I may disagree with some of his teachings, there's a fulsome kernel of understanding in focus an perseverance that you were taught early on."

The Jedi Master laced his fingers together in front of him.

"Doing what is hard to do, this distills who you are. Almost every task that is worth doing is hard."

[Farran Esrimoure]

"Actually, we met before that," came the hummed correction as she took a last bite of her lunch.

"In the Council Chambers."

For a brief second she chewed in thought, and it was only as she swallowed that she realized her flippant tone. She winced slightly, hoping that he wouldn't be too upset.

"I mean, That's how I remember it... "

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A Short While Later...


Their lunch had been... interesting, to say the least. But, it was nice to see Zem back in his element. He was a teacher through and through, in her eyes, and to see him interact with Ms. Esrimoure was almost like looking back in time.

Now though, as the two left the comforting confines of his home, s'Il couldn't help but pause as he made sure the door was shut fully.

Ms. Esrimoure had been sent back out with the task of actually reading the books she'd gotten from the library, which provided more of the privacy - as it were - that she preferred. Now, just the two of them, s'Il paused at the top step of the small front porch. It was a quaint space with a single rocker chair and a potted plant.

"You know," she started, "... a girl would almost think you had a thing for women with... keh'seh'a... the light hair?"

It was a teasing prod that she knew he'd see right through. She also knew that he wouldn't be fooled by her feigned ignorance of Basic.

[Zem Vymes]

"Heh."

A little grin creased Zem's face. He eased into the rocking chair, giving it a few gentle pushes until the boards beneath issued a small, pleasing creak.

"It's the sure sign of a troubled youth in search of serious guidance and constant supervision."

The parallels didn't end there, however. Zem had considered some similarities, but there were others still to explore.

"Both were once pupils of controversial teachers as well."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She made a face at that.

"Yes well, only one of those Masters lost his brain stones."

She descended halfway down the stairs, pausing only to turn back to him as he'd taken up residence in the chair.

"I take it that you are going to be here when I return?"

[Zem Vymes]

Zem smiled at his former pupil - now something more.

"I can't imagine anywhere else I'd rather be."

Whether contemplating the Force and what it meant to them all, to simply passing company with the ones he cared about, living in this moment felt more natural than anything he could consider.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A SHORT WHILE LATER...


It hadn't taken long to administer Markos' booster shots, as well as his vaccinations and other general health checks. The doctor on duty had been gentle and kind, even going so far as to give the boy a small taste of pea and nuna paste as a reward. Apparently it had become common knowledge that he was a large fan of that particular flavor, and the doctors and nurses had taken to using it as a useful bit of positive reinforcement.

And now, happily on her way back to Zem's home, s'Il held Markos with one arm, her free hand teasing at him as he smiled and laughed.

[Zem Vymes]

Zem's lightsaber hummed in a microcosm of its usual intensity. The blade had been trimmed and shaped so that it was barely a wisp of energy that extended past the emitter. The Jedi used the saber not as a weapon now, but as a tool, carefully and artfully cutting down a gnarled piece of wood a grain at a time, until a shape began to take form from the leavings. The air smelled pleasantly of green woodsmoke, never enough to overwhelm the senses.

He paused in his work, extinguishing the saber as he saw Lok returning to the house, bringing with her a familiar cherubic face. Zem smiled, rocking back in his seat slightly.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Ascending the stairs, s'Il let her booted feet clack on the wooden steps in a clipped beat. She held Markos close, his wide smile such a contrast to his lineage. And yet, out of the fires of all that, he had so unknowingly fallen into a new family that was something so much better. His innocence was pure and she envied her son for that.

Moving across the small front porch, the Lupine let her eye go from Markos to Zem, still contentedly seated in his rocker chair.

A deep breath, and she angled her upper body forward and down so that she knelt before the Jedi Master. Her arms pulled the boy away from her center and set him gently upon Zem's waiting lap.

"All of this right now," she felt as Markos instantly transferred his attentions to Zem, tiny hands going to eagerly grab at the wooden carving, "... it is peaceful."

She kept a splayed palm across her son's back, making sure that he was steadied. Her free hand shifted to rest upon Zem's knee.

"It feels... normal. Like there is nothing in the galaxy that you or I have to do, other than to simply exist."