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."