Nar Shaddaa

As evening comes, for certain galactic values of evening that are only relevant if you force yourself onto a regular sleep schedule, Arali tends to a couple odd corners of the garden. The gardens as a whole are Master Thun's project, but Arali has her tea.

And her lily.

A single large salt water lily floats in a meditation pool, its fibrous roots occasionally releasing a bubble of air, sending ripples through the pond.

An effect that is, momentarily, ruined as Arali hooks up the filtration system. Give this particular pool any amount of time unfiltered, and the algae will grow like wildfire. This flower does its job well.

She checks the time on her comm. Her guest should be here soon.

Not entirely sure what this is about, Ashla arrives. "Yo."

The twi'lek shuts down the filter and disconnects it from the meditation pool, in no particular rush. She wipes up a bit of spilled water, then rises and bows to the togruta.

"Padawan Vyliis, I presume? My name is Arali Zian. I am an aide to Master Thun. Master Zyl speaks highly of your potential. Please, be seated." She gestures to the edge of the meditation pool.

Ashla sits. "I see.... Can I ask what this is about? Master Maaka didn't inform me of anything." She's curious with a hint of distrusting.

Cynicism. Suspicion. Consistent with Master Zyl's assessment.

"You may."

A weighted pause, as a bubble rises from the lily's roots, sending ripples through the pool. The silence of the garden at this hour is absolute, the pop audible.

"Though I wouldn't recommend expecting an answer most of the time. The order loves being cryptic in its training."

One part honesty, one part levity.

"I am told you are a healer?"

Ashla nods. "I like to think of myself as a doctor. Though Master Maaka had me contact a navy surgeon to learn more about medicine."

"I'm glad," the twi'lek nods. "Mind well his teachings. But there are certain healing techniques he cannot teach you, stemming from your relationship with the force."

Pop. Pop.

One bubble, then another, the two sets of rings coming together to create a new harmony.

"Do you like tea?" There isn't the slightest shift in tone, as if it is the most natural extension of their conversation possible.

"Ah. No. I can't do that. I've yet to learn to do anything with the Force like." Ashla shrugs. "I've been told the Force guided me with my medical practice, and I now understand that's what happen," a look of distaste crosses Ashla's face during that admission.

"Sure. I'm not a huge fan tea, but I'll drink it."

"Then let's see if we can't change your mind, shall we? Come with me."

She leads Ashla to a corner full of tea planters and hands the togruta a small pair of shears."Preparing a tea bag takes six leaves. Carefully snip the top two leaves from fresh growth- that is, shoots whose stems are still green."

What this has to do with anything, the twi'lek does not let on.

Ashla sighs. This must be some Jedi training technique. Of course, it is. Ashla does manage not to roll her eyes at the thought at least. She follows instructions.

Arali fixes a number of very fine details of Ashla's gardening technique, to make the smallest, cleanest cut, easiest to grow back.

From there, it is quite the production. A little kitchenette hides behind a half-concealed accessway, already set up to prepare the tea. Arali directs Ashla on how to steam the leaves, then shock them with cold water, press, bake, flip, grind, bag and boil. Come the end of the production, the women are back at the meditation pool with two cups of exceedingly fresh green tea.

"...and the final ingredients... are patience, and calm. Take in the warmth, the aroma," she smells deeply of the brew, "and be at peace." She exhales, closes her eyes, and lets the tension leave her body as she waits for the tea to cool.

Ashla is obviously bothered by something. She's unable to maintain the slightest bit of calm, even less so than her normally hyperactive mind would allow.

"Is something worrying you?" she asks, unsurprised at the unease.

"I went on a date with a Sith." She shakes her head still in disbelief. "They're fucking crazy."

Ashla sighs. "We started debating emotion and the Force. You know. What you would expect from a date between a Sith and a Jedi. Then, he started talking about the glories of love which I thought was him just trying to get in my pants." Ashla closes her eyes. "Then, he started talking about founding his own house and me joining him. I mean, that's fucking crazy, right? You don't propose marriage before the meal is served on the first date, right?"

Ashla opens her eyes again. "Master Maaka is right. The Sith just let their emotions control them too much."

"A date?" Arali raises an eyebrow, amused.

"It is good to engage the Sith like this. Peaceful opportunities for discussion for discussion like this are few and far between. But before passing judgment, seek first to understand. This is, after all, one man, not the Sith as a whole. One piece and one interpretation of a greater puzzle."

Her voice shifts, taking on the meditative cadence familiar to Jedi meditations.

"Peace is a lie; there is only Passion.
Through Passion, I gain Strength.
Through Strength, I gain Power.
Through Power, I achieve Victory.
Through Victory, I will break my chains.
The Force will set me free."

She looks to Ashla, gauging her reaction.

"This is the code of the Sith. Its meaning and implications vary from one to the next as much as interpretations of the Jedi code. And just as many Jedi do not necessarily agree with every aspect or commonly accepted portion of our code, many Sith feel the same of theirs. It does, however, offer a starting point.

"The Sith way is, fundamentally, selfish. That is, it is about self. Removing the inhibitions and restrictions that keep one in the way of their own desires and ambitions. To become a paragon of one's inherent nature, channeling one's inner base urges into outward-facing power, and turns them into an exaggeration, even a parody of themselves. Unfortunately, if that base nature is obnoxious, lustful and desperate, well..." she trails off, Ashla clearly more freshly informed of the consequences at the moment.

Ashla nods. "Yeah, well, I wasn't going to turn him down and show weakness." Ashla shakes her head. "He claimed he was just asking me to be his retainer, but why talk about love and stuff? It was terrifying."

Hearing the Sith Code, Ashla shrugs. "Personally, I think the Sith Code is bizarre. It talks about freedom, but they all serve the Emperor whose main power seems to be being the Emperor. But like you said, it's about interpretations. If our orders were switched, would they be much different? I mean if the Jedi were in the Empire, would they be any different than the Sith as we know them? And vice versa?"

Ashla shrugs. "I'm just wondering how much is the Code themselves and how much is it the environment the people who learned the Code grew up in."

"Vigilance is wise. But yes, much is of the order and individual, more than the code. Had the order come to be under different circumstances, under that same creed? Well, those lines might not come to imply immediately placing those chains on others.

"Training on Korriban is harsh, oppressive, and brutal. Most Sith apprentices do not survive the process, and those who do have likely slain at least one of their peers. It is an environment that deeply encourages corruption and perversion, and is one of the greatest tragedies of the Sith; they are their own victims. Tormented by their forebears, they perpetuate the cycle of pain and violence."

She shakes her head, then lifts her tea cup, now cool enough to drink, and takes one gentle, soothing sip.

Ashla considers that point in her own context. She is not bothered by much of the terrible things she has suffered because that's how life is? Is she any different than a Sith? Maybe, those things were wrong and Ashla was.... nope. Nope. NOPE. A deep breath.

"I think I can understand. It's much easier to accept that the galaxy is a terrible place and that's just how it is. It's harder to admit that the galaxy is a terrible place, but it can be better. That you were a victim."

"People need the world to make sense. Being victimized cannot be denied forever, but even then, it can be rationalized. 'It happened because I was weak, and I deserved it. I prove this by inflicting the same treatment on other people who are weak, because they deserve it.' It becomes natural. Normal. And the cycle continues, until enough people have the courage to turn from that path, to oppose it."

She gestures to the cup in Ashla's hands, "Please, try the tea. You did well for a first attempt."

Ashla doesn't want to think about the implications it may have for herself, so she just drinks some tea.

"It's good." For tea. "Thank you for the tea. What kind is it?"

"It is a simple green tea," she explains, "One of the more relaxing blends, fit for later hours, and it promotes the body's natural healing abilities. It is a foundation for delivering many traditional herbal remedies."

And, when you're done, the vessel for a lesson.

She continues peacefully sipping at her tea.

Ashla nods. "Good. I could probably use a calming down."

The pair finish the tea in relative silence, disturbed only by the bubbling air bubbles coming from the lily's roots in the meditation pool.

When they're done, Arali sets down her cup.

"Your master has no doubt taught you that the Force binds all things, living and nonliving. Simply meditate in this garden, and you can feel the ties that bind us. These ties, however, are not all equal, and their intensity and meaning can change. What you just experienced was one of the most primal ways of deepening such a connection. One very potent, yet so natural and familiar that you may not notice it."

Ashla nods and meditates awaiting further instructions.

"Open your mind to the life all around you." In the garden, such a task is easy; it's so vibrant here, and so dull beyond its borders, even if unclear to the untrained. "Yet one calls to you. It is part of you, as you are part of it."

One plant seems clearest in the bright yet murky haze. The tea plant! Reaching out to it, it's as if there is no line between her and it; she can feel its strong, healthy roots, feeding on rich soil. The dull ache of fresh cuts.

After a moment, "What do you sense?"