The Theory of the Force

[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."