Recipe for Disaster
Scene 14
Quinlan Vos defied all expectations by displaying a degree of contrition uncommon among feral creatures of his ilk.
"Hey Kenobi," he hailed his agemate. "Sorry about the fark-up earlier today. I hear Master Jinn had your hide."
Shuffling forward in the line of initiates and padawans waiting to be served, Obi-Wan gave an exasperated snort by way of reply. "Your antics had far-reaching consequences, Vos. Let's leave it at that."
The Kiffar demonstrated his goodwill by landing a solid punch against his fellow padawan's shoulder. "You're a card, Kenobi. Glad there's no hard feelings, brother."
In between each of his many penitential laps about the entire Temple perimeter, Obi-Wan had been privileged to receive a most comprehensive drilling at the hands of his own master. He mentally recited the Lotus of Supernal Patience mantra yet again now. I am a Jedi. I extend the flower of compassion to all sentient beings, regardless of their worthiness in my eyes, or affinity to my self. I am a Jedi. I extend -
The servitor droid dumped food onto his plate and waved him on, cooing gently at him to make way for others. Nearly comatose from the marathon run, he bumbled his way to a small table recently vacated by a group of noisy younglings.
"Not there, if it's all the same to you," Vos objected, appearing uninvited at his elbow again. "Little kids are the worst. They leave gnarly psychic imprints on everything they touch. I can't even describe it. Ugh."
I extend the flower of compassion to all sentient beings - even Quinlan Vos - regardless etc etc.. "Fine." They moved to an empty pair of seats in another section. "Master Yoda says the mind of a child is a wonderful thing." Obi-Wan set down his tray and slid in behind it, ready to drop on the spot.
Quinlan shrugged. "Yeah, not if you gotta experience it firsthand, you know? Telemetry can be a real vetch."
"My heart bleeds for you." I am a Jedi. I extend the flower of compassion to all sentient beings, regardless of their wretched telemetric powers and propensity for vexing the deuce out of me. I am a Jedi. I -
"So, looks like the grudge match is all set up for tomorrow," the Kiffar padawan gaily carried on, scarfing down his own supper with an enthusiasm reminiscent of a gundark gnawing upon a desiccated carcass. "Can't help but think this whole cooking class thing has to issue into the greater good."
That was rather broad minded for Vos. Obi-Wan looked up from an apathetic stirring of his arroz and torrfli, and regarded the other young Jedi curiously. "You mean that we've somehow developed a healthy camaraderie through the shared experience?" It would be dreadfully rude to set Vos straight on this point of misapprehension; on the other hand, he only intended to extend the flower of compassion, not the olive branch of peace. "Vos," he began, tentatively, wondering whether his blunt honesty would cost him another few circuits about the perimeter and whether his sore legs could withstand any further abuse. "I think I ought to tell you frankly that -"
"No need to make a dramatic gesture," Quinlan assured him, belching luxuriantly and slouching back in his seat. "I got your number. Plus I always knew you weren't really such a prissy barve beneath the facade. All a guy needs is to be taken down a few pegs and his inner nature shines out. It's like the Force brought us together so you could grow in wisdom."
There was a moment of silence. Vos picked his teeth and rose with a singularly indolent grace. "See ya tomorrow," he promised, sauntering away without a care in the world.
Obi-Wan clutched the edge of the table and recited his mantra over and over and over again.