![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blueskyingLife all around, flourishing in the cool damp forest, and I'm aware of the life outlining the topography. Three people, incandescent compared to the background, are occupied setting up camp. I'm sitting on a fallen tree with someone else and they've been talking, but I've picked up on something else.
She's saying, "-they don't like humans. Starting with the ones who came here as colonists long before the Emperor found the planet."
I can hear her sense change as she realizes something is happening and stretches out, herself. These are aliens I've never met, either individually or as a species, and so they're hard to actually read, not like the people nearby. My companion is trying to resolve the sense of the strangers. She has her own talent, but a very different history with it. Wanting to help her I say, quietly, "Four of them. No. Five. Try looking for deviations. The ways the minds are different from each other. That's the best way to resolve them."
There, her sense reflects surprise and a touch of annoyance - and from a greater distance I feel a surge of some emotion I can't yet read, and the aliens recede out of the range I can reasonably stretch to.
The woman - Mara - looks at me, and I tell her what just happened. Dubiously she suggests, "Maybe they didn't know we were here."
"No, they knew," I say. "In fact, I'm pretty sure they were coming directly toward us when they were—" I shake my head. "I want to say they were scared away. But that doesn't make any sense."
She looks up at the canopy above. "Could we have picked up an Imperial patrol?"
I shake my head again, confident. "No, I'd know if there were any other humans nearby."
"Bet that comes in handy," she mutters.
I tell her, "It's just a matter of training," but there's an uncertainty in my tone that she picks up on and wants to know about. Reluctantly I admit, "Nothing. Just . . . I was thinking about the twins. Thinking about how I'm going to have to train them some day."
Mara folds her arms over her bent knees. "You worried about when to start?"
I let out a breath. "I'm worried about being able to do it at all."
She shrugs. "What's to do? You teach them how to hear minds and move objects and use lightsabers. You did that with your sister, didn't you?" As usual her tone is guarded, somewhere in the vicinity of hostile; it's her way to irritate people, to make them lose their temper, but I don't think it's real hostility, and I decide spontaneously to say what's really bothering me.
"That was when I thought that was all there was to it. It's really just the beginning. They're going to be strong in the Force, and with that strength comes responsibility. How do I teach them that? How do I teach them wisdom and compassion and how not to abuse their power?" My sister will be fine, but the things that could go wrong... I look out into the forest, study it without seeing it.
There's a pause, and her sense is serious as she considers. Eventually she asks, "How does anyone teach anyone else that stuff? Mostly by example, I suppose."
I'm glad that she thought about it seriously. Personally, my public image aside I'm not sure how much of an example I can be. Reluctantly I nod, and then I change the subject. "How much Jedi training did the Emperor give you?"
There's that intrusive flash of disruption and shock and hatred from her that has become so familiar, chased by the nearly as familiar attempt to shake it off and squash the hatred. Mara would say that she doesn't like me, but she has a respect for me and what I've done, and what I'm trying to do here. She doesn't really want to kill me.
"Enough. All the basics," she says tightly, and tries to throw the previous topic back at me to shake her own discomfort. "Why, you checking for wisdom and compassion?"
I do my best to sound casual. "No, but as long as we've got a few more days until we reach Mount Tantiss, it might be a good idea to go over it again. You know, a refresher course sort of thing."
Mara's not buying it and gives me a hard stare, suspicion hard in her sense. "Have you seen something about what's ahead?"
I hedge at her for a second, but I've got to try and be honest. "A few images and pictures that didn't make any sense. I just think it would be a good idea for you to be as strong in the Force as possible before we go in."
She looks away, and there's the intrusive flash again. She hates those things. I half wish she would talk about what's happening, but I'm also not sure if I could help if I knew. Mara says, "You'll be there. What do I need to be strong in the Force for?"
Despite that I have the feeling that she'll work on this with me. We're lucky the others were willing to set up camp.
"For whatever purpose your destiny calls you to," I say, quiet but firm. "We have an hour or so left before sundown. Let's get started."
(See also)
She's saying, "-they don't like humans. Starting with the ones who came here as colonists long before the Emperor found the planet."
I can hear her sense change as she realizes something is happening and stretches out, herself. These are aliens I've never met, either individually or as a species, and so they're hard to actually read, not like the people nearby. My companion is trying to resolve the sense of the strangers. She has her own talent, but a very different history with it. Wanting to help her I say, quietly, "Four of them. No. Five. Try looking for deviations. The ways the minds are different from each other. That's the best way to resolve them."
There, her sense reflects surprise and a touch of annoyance - and from a greater distance I feel a surge of some emotion I can't yet read, and the aliens recede out of the range I can reasonably stretch to.
The woman - Mara - looks at me, and I tell her what just happened. Dubiously she suggests, "Maybe they didn't know we were here."
"No, they knew," I say. "In fact, I'm pretty sure they were coming directly toward us when they were—" I shake my head. "I want to say they were scared away. But that doesn't make any sense."
She looks up at the canopy above. "Could we have picked up an Imperial patrol?"
I shake my head again, confident. "No, I'd know if there were any other humans nearby."
"Bet that comes in handy," she mutters.
I tell her, "It's just a matter of training," but there's an uncertainty in my tone that she picks up on and wants to know about. Reluctantly I admit, "Nothing. Just . . . I was thinking about the twins. Thinking about how I'm going to have to train them some day."
Mara folds her arms over her bent knees. "You worried about when to start?"
I let out a breath. "I'm worried about being able to do it at all."
She shrugs. "What's to do? You teach them how to hear minds and move objects and use lightsabers. You did that with your sister, didn't you?" As usual her tone is guarded, somewhere in the vicinity of hostile; it's her way to irritate people, to make them lose their temper, but I don't think it's real hostility, and I decide spontaneously to say what's really bothering me.
"That was when I thought that was all there was to it. It's really just the beginning. They're going to be strong in the Force, and with that strength comes responsibility. How do I teach them that? How do I teach them wisdom and compassion and how not to abuse their power?" My sister will be fine, but the things that could go wrong... I look out into the forest, study it without seeing it.
There's a pause, and her sense is serious as she considers. Eventually she asks, "How does anyone teach anyone else that stuff? Mostly by example, I suppose."
I'm glad that she thought about it seriously. Personally, my public image aside I'm not sure how much of an example I can be. Reluctantly I nod, and then I change the subject. "How much Jedi training did the Emperor give you?"
There's that intrusive flash of disruption and shock and hatred from her that has become so familiar, chased by the nearly as familiar attempt to shake it off and squash the hatred. Mara would say that she doesn't like me, but she has a respect for me and what I've done, and what I'm trying to do here. She doesn't really want to kill me.
"Enough. All the basics," she says tightly, and tries to throw the previous topic back at me to shake her own discomfort. "Why, you checking for wisdom and compassion?"
I do my best to sound casual. "No, but as long as we've got a few more days until we reach Mount Tantiss, it might be a good idea to go over it again. You know, a refresher course sort of thing."
Mara's not buying it and gives me a hard stare, suspicion hard in her sense. "Have you seen something about what's ahead?"
I hedge at her for a second, but I've got to try and be honest. "A few images and pictures that didn't make any sense. I just think it would be a good idea for you to be as strong in the Force as possible before we go in."
She looks away, and there's the intrusive flash again. She hates those things. I half wish she would talk about what's happening, but I'm also not sure if I could help if I knew. Mara says, "You'll be there. What do I need to be strong in the Force for?"
Despite that I have the feeling that she'll work on this with me. We're lucky the others were willing to set up camp.
"For whatever purpose your destiny calls you to," I say, quiet but firm. "We have an hour or so left before sundown. Let's get started."
(See also)
