2008-11-28 - The Littlest Spy

Within these clean white walls, the chaos of the City seems to disappear. The airspace above is completely clear of traffic, and the cacophony of aircars and speeders cannot seem to penetrate the heavy stonework all around. By day the clear blue sky shines down between the frame of the walls, and by night the brilliant stars of the Core are complimented by innumerable points of light drifting lazily through the sky: starships high in orbit.
Most of the courtyard is covered with a verdant green grass, speckled here and there with white star-shaped flowers; this plantlife grows freely across the untrimmed lawn. A road of the same clean white stone as the walls meanders across this lawn like a creek, spilling into wider 'ponds' of circular landing pads placed here and there seemingly at random. In the center of the lawn, a wide tower stands slightly higher than the walls, crowned with a simple dome. Similar towers stand at each corner of the walls.
 Tuil exits his ship and starts walking in the direction of some bushes. The morning is warm and fair and the grass green.
 Mornings on Coruscant are brisk and pleasant, for those who don't mind the chiller winds of the coming winter. At the Jedi Enclave, young pupils were already out and about it, stretching, exercising, practicing their skills. The younger ones with basic maneuvers - moving training stones from one pile to another without so much as lifting a finger, while the older children begin sparring sessions with wooden swords.
Clack! Clack! The weapons strikes fill the air, crisp and precise, under the watchful eyes of instructors.
And, another pair of eyes, curious ones, peaking out from behind shrubbery leaves, watching in silence.
 Tuil walks past a particular group of padawans and greets them for a moment, watching their progress. He speaks with one of them who is waiting for her own turn and learns the names of their masters. He nods and then waves the teenaged girl forward as it is her turn. Then Tuil turns back to the bushes and eyes them slowly.
 Amidst all the young hopefuls, all the aspiring heroes, what is another in a sea of those gifted with the Force? Even if that other was desperately mimicking the motions of the shrub as the wind tugged at the remaining leaves.
Oh, what troublesome a child, yet sneaky, this Liam L'hnnar. Attention fixed on each and every action the younglings perform. Their balance, their coordination, the subtle hints of power beneath the visible surface. Little would give him away, one would hope, save for the occasional glimmer of green-blue light beneath a leaf. Morning dew, perhaps?
 And yet it is all too obvious to one long practiced in being guided by the Force and also well trained by his master in the arts of observation and detection. Tuil folds his arms and turns to watch the young lady duel it out with a boy her age. Her supple limbs move with easy grace while the boy, shorter and less coordinated, works from a disadvantage. Still, he seems to enjoy a fluidness that comes and goes as the Force flows through him moreso than his female dueling partner.
 Certainly, each strike, parry, and riposte bring an exciting burst of sound to the lawns, with it, a flow of the Force in that pattern of grace and power. But, that does not seem to hold the attentions of the shadow pupil. It is, instead, the most basic of training exercises that garner his gaze.
Liam shifts behind his screen of foliage, old leaves crinkling under feet, knees, and hands. Hardly loud enough over the sounds of sparring.
 Despite her natural abilities, the young woman is soon finding herself on the defense as the boy, smaller and less coordinated, gives himself to the Force more and more. In the end, he locks swords with his opponent and swirls them around until the girl's is forced from her grasp and the wooden pole flies through the air and lands in the nearby bushes.
There is a brief congratulations before the young woman, flushed and just a little chagrined from having been beaten by that kid, heads for the bushes to retrieve her weapon.
 "Ow." The bushes whine, then rustle, as the little scoundrel behind them scoots out of the way, leaving behind the practice blade and a datapad containing literature exclusive to the Jedi enclave. Liam hides quickly in a neighboring bush, fingers curling around the little beacon of light at his neck, lest it ruin his otherwise flawless cover.
 The girl is oblivious to Liam's movements, but the gaze of Tuil notes them without much difficulty. Her sword in hand, the girl comes back by Tuil and he leans close to her to whisper a few words of advice into her ear as the other apprentices hack at each other. He points at one move in particular and then waves for the girl to rejoin her fellows before the master turns to walk towards Liam's bush.
 Temporarily relieved, the boy takes a moment to nurse the growing lump on his shoulder, grumbling under his breath about weapons and the dangers that come with them. The crinkle of grasses and the swish of fabric, however, stills any further movement, and draws lips into a tight line of silence. Each footfall ends a breath on the verge of exhale.
 "Hello, intruder." Tuil stands before the bush and calls out. "Learning anything?"
 "Intruder? But, I'm.." the young, somewhat familiar voice behind the leaves drops to something mildly suggestive, laden with a syrupy sense of truthfullness, despite the unbelievable probability. "just a bush." Then, the shrub adds, in a little hiss, "Rustle, rustle."
 "Too late." Tuil pushes aside the upper branches to get a look at what's inside. "See anything interesting or are you just here for the fine fresh air?"
 The petulant frown of failure greets the Jedi under leaves and branches. "The fresh air," Liam replies, folding his arms over his chest. Wrapped in a cloak of softly-shimmering greens and browns, a military-grade camouflage, clothes scuffed by mud, morning moisture, and grass stains, the little L'hnnar appears to have been in the locale for some time.
"Good morning, General Lindo," the boy calls cooly from his bent half-squat.
 Tuil waves for Liam to come out and he steps back. "Good morning to you, Master L'hnnar. Shouldn't you be at the medical academy seeing to your studies?"
 The boy rises slowly, wobbly on his legs. He slaps each thigh softly to get circulation going, then shakes his head. "It is a fall holiday," Liam explains, taking a hesitant glance around the garden expanse. Some of the children have broken from their learning to peer curiously, while they can.
 Tuil looks at those padawans gathered around him and then smirks, shooing them away. "Return to your studies and practice. Your lunch will be ready soon, I am sure." He glances back at Liam and waves for him to come out. "They're curious about you, those that can feel you..." The Jedi lowers his voice, "Your skills have increased."
 Liam releases his grip on the necklace, letting the little formless jewel fall free to catch the peaks of the sun's light in the garden. It shimmers cooly in response, as the young man uses both hands to pull branches apart enough to stumble out into the grass. "I--" he starts awkwardly, gray eyes wandering away from the Jedi to the other children, again. A few stare back, most diligently return to their tasks. Rocks don't move themselves, after all.
"I've.. ugh," he tries another time, digging a booted toe into the moist soil. "been practicing."
 Tuil nods slowly as Liam gets this out. He turns then and calls to the young woman from before, "Lenka, your assistance, please."
The girl comes over in her sleek bodysuit leaving her graceful limbs free for maximum movement in her training.
Tuil nods to the dark-haired beauty as she arrives and asks her, "This young man here has learned a few things over time and I would have you test him a moment. Throw something at him and see if he is able to stop it."
Lenka nods and concentrates, finding the nearest straw object. Her command of the Force is still immature and she strunches her features as she concentrates.
FORCE: Tuil calls upon the Force.
COMBAT: Tuil hurls a stone training sphere toward Liam!
COMBAT: Liam tries to dodge, but Tuil's flying debris mildly wounds him.
 The boy's eyes flicker to the girl, on whom they rest for a time longer than needed. It's the Force, of course, that keeps his attention, not the sleek curve of the-- rocks! Flying rocks.
Too late, Liam registers that there is, indeed, something flying for him. He tries to duck out of the perfectly round training tool, but instead, in his bumbling, manages to duck /into/ it, groaning with the soft crack that comes as stone meets face.
"Oww," he groans, hand flying up to cup the reddening cheek. Light dances within his necklace, briefly, before settling. Liam, however, protests in a whine, the words muffled by sore facial muscles, "I don't know how to do that! Why do you think I was in those stupid bushes in the first place?"
 Tuil hmmms to himself, folding his arms as he watches all this play out, his attantion as much on Lenka as she struggles as Liam as he attempts to dodge. The young woman looks pleased at her efforts and Tuil glances her way. A moment of silence speech passes between them and Lenka reddens again and then turns to go after bowing to the master.
Tuil turns back to Liam, "Don't know how to do what? Move rocks or stop them?"
 Liam moves his fingers tentatively over the busted cheek, feeling at the skin there. Faintly, like ripples in a calm pond, the tug of the Force comes and goes, and when the hand falls down to his side to ball into a fist, the redness and swelling have passed, settling into the faint discoloration of a days-old bruise.
"I don't know. Both," the boy's voice comes frustrated, eyes downcast at the offending ball now mocking him from the grass. "Stupid rocks. They never do what I want."
 Tuil sits down on the grass and waves for Liam to do so as well. "You need to clear your mind first if you intend to move rocks and other things as well." The Jedi glances back to see where the girl has gone and he calls back to Liam, "Those who wish to use the Force must have their thoughts focused on what they are doing, not on someone else."
 Inadvertedly, the boy's gaze follows the Jedi's back onto the dark-haired young woman. Color rises to the his cheeks, this time, from no injury. Unless those to one's ego count.
"I can clear my mind just fine," Liam replies quickly, settling down as instructed. He takes a position of old ascetics, the kind seen in old databooks, folding legs over each other, straightening his shoulders.
"But, it's hard to focus," he explains in a whisper, "when there's everything else all around you." He blinks slowly, then most seriously adds, "the grass is very noisy, here."
 "Ah, you are hypersensitive? A boy's senses you have? Or perhaps you should speak to one of your medical superiors about therapy for autism?" Tuil shrugs. "Or maybe you just need discipline? In any case, put Lenka out of your mind."
 "I'm not autistic!" Liam snaps hotly, breathing out a frustrated sigh. "And, she's not--" He pauses, taking a quick breath. "Any more. But everything else is." His eyes flutter closed for a second before snapping open again. "I-- read that to meditate correctly, you had to close your eyes and listen to the Force. But, it's everywhere. And, it's loud."
 Tuil nods slowly as is his wont. "If it's everywhere and it's loud, you have already come halfway. Now you just need to still your own thoughts and urges. Are you capable of doing that?"
 "I think. Sometimes," Liam admits meekly. His hands rise to cup his necklace as he attempts to do just that. A silent minute goes by, then another, until he lets out a frustrated huff. "I can't do it while you're watching!"
 Tuil mutters something about Liam and public restrooms, but then he nods and turns his body away from Liam. "Your calm seems to be quite fragile. I am interested in how you've learned so much over time without being able to guard against your natural tendencies."
 "I don't know," Liam whispers back, slowly drifting back into the meditative frame of mind. "When I didn't have class, I'd go out into the razorgrass and listen to the ocean after a storm." He voice gets slower and smaller. "And..." he cuts off, falling into steady breathing.
 Tuil hmmms to himself and asks, "Have you received any training or have you learned your techniques through trial and error?"
 The youth's eyes remain closed, fingers wrapped around his gem, but he replies all the same, in that faint tone of someone half-listening, "Training? What do you mean? With what?" Nearby rocks, especially the practice sphere sit idly by, watching in silence. "I read a lot... and thought about things Mister Dega had said."
 "I see. Mr. Dega I'm sure will be pleased to know that you have used his words well." Tuil isn't looking at Liam at all, "Can you feel the rocks around you? Touch them through the Force?"
 "He didn't seem too pleased to see me when I saw him last," Liam sighs softly, then shifts, readjusting his seated position. "No. They are rocks."
 "What does that mean to you, that they are rocks? Please explain that." Tuil pulls out his pipe and puts the stem's end between his teeth, though he makes no move to light it as he continues this discussion with Liam.
 The boy snaps out of his broodings, blinking. "They're rocks," Liam stares at the old man. "That's it. There's nothing else to them. Just rock. And more rock. They're not like the grass, or the leaves, or the children."
 "Ah! A key misunderstanding." Tuil shakes his head and explains. "The rocks are inanimate objects, yes. You control them, you pick them up and block them, because the Force surrounds them. Manipulate the Force around them and you manipulate them too."
 Liam blinks again, then bites his lower lip. "I.. think I understand," is his reply to that, but glancing over at the same, mocking stone, he doesn't appear much enthusiastic about the prospect. Very unlike the children to whom the whole process comes naturally. Some even seem to be able to do it while standing on their heads, as nervous glances in their direction indicate.
"So.. around it?" The boy stares down at the sphere, and it back at him. Silent, unmoving.
 Tuil nods. "Around it, yes. The Force srounds us, it is between you and the ground, the ship and the land, the rock and the grass. Size matters not for all things are equal in the Force."
 The rock is stubborn and determined, gravity a pleasant force, intent on keeping it just there, amidst the grasses. The child's hands unwind from his grip on his charm, and the green green gems sparkles with life against the white of his shirt.
"The grass doesn't find you very comfortable," Liam tells the stone, then, when staring seems to do nothing. It gives a small shudder, and, finally, shakily rises a few centimeters off the broken stalks.
 Tuil nods slowly. "Are you going to settle for just a few centimeters?
 Concentration breaks, and the stone plops back down where it had lain before. Liam's eyes dart from it to the Jedi. "That-- was enough," he makes a face. "to get it off the grass." Looking back, however, the boy frowns, sighs, and encourages it upwards again. It goes to that same height, albeit more fluidly.
 "Good. If you come with me, I will complete your training." Tuil turns back to Liam with a firm expression of expectation.
 "Go with you.. where?" Grass gets smushed beneath stone yet again. Liam bristles, almost defensively. "I don't-- I just.. wanted to know how to catch blaster bolts with my hands... so I could protect my father." The boy looks down and breaks posture to retrieve the round object with his hands, running his fingers over the blades of grass.
 "Exactly. Think of it. Your father trusts me. I am a servant of Corellia. If I were to train you, Corellia would have two Jedi Knights working on its behalf with the Force as their ally, two knights to protect your father." Tuil nods with certainty.
 "I don't /want/ to be a Jedi," Liam snaps firmly. "No matter what I might have told your bantha-brained guards out front to get in here." Any children within earshot might have gasped in shock. He lowers his tone to a whisper, at that.
"I just... wanted to help him. But, if you won't teach me, I'll-- just practice until I can." His face takes on a determined scowl.
 Tuil gets to his feet and looks down at Liam. "It is foolish to resist your destiny, but you must choose your own path. So be it." He waves for Liam to come with him to the gate. "I will see you out."
Even as Liam exclaims about the guards and Tuil rises to show the kid out, Lenka has returned, freshly showered and wearing clean Jedi robes. She frowns at the emotional display of the boy and looks upon him with subtle hints of pity and disapproval.
 Liam stands quickly after the man, passing a look from him, to the girl. "Here," he says sulkily, holding out the training sphere. "You dropped this, earlier." And he tosses it, without any theatrics, without any pushes of the Force, to Lenka. A simple, underhand throw.
He says nothing further, brushing his military camouflage with a hand, then moving to follow Tuil out of the enclave.
 Tuil leads the way to the gateway and he turns back to Liam as the boy comes along. "Farewell, Master L'hnnar. I'm sure I'll see you again. I suggest though that you not come back here unless you are seeking the training or are in danger and in need of help. May the Force be with you."
 "Then you'd better get better guards out front," Liam offers a clipped half-smile. "Those'll believe anything you tell them." At the gate, he pauses, looking back to the immaculate gardens. Now, children not much older than he have moved out into the lawn, the youngsters having gone for lunch. Faint crackles of lightsaber play now sounds in the air.
The boy sighs, shakes his head, then bows it to Tuil. "Don't worry," he finishes when he straightens again. "I won't be back, General Lindo." Then, his step out is a quiet one, followed by a quick "May the Force be with you." over the shoulder, before he begins his descent down the path to the magtrains.
Category:November 2008 RP Logs