"Hm. How strange, to meet two people who reject the Force in one day," she says, amused, "Very well, I will bow to your wishes in this."

"As it is, for now, you will need to be close to him in order to hear the Force. Perhaps over time your connection may be re-broadened on its own, but this will take time."

She's silent. Thoughts purposefully slow. She can't let herself lose control.

"I'm afraid."

"What is it that scares you? You must understand your fear, in order to overcome it, and move past it." 

Slow, deep breaths.

"Pain. Consequences. Judgement."

But is that truly it? Maybe some of it...

"That is something," she hums to herself, "You must meditate on this. Understand yourself. What is it you fear? Is it the reactions of others? The Council? Your young man? Or is it the danger you, yourself, pose?"

...she opens her eyes. Wryly amused.

"I see now why Rhae warned me of you."

"Did he?" she smiles, slightly, "He is an intelligent man. He did refuse to let me meet you, while you were young and untried. It is true that I am not an easy teacher, though my lessons will make you strong."

"We shall see. It's a big decision. Life altering. To let myself become one with the Force again... my life may not be perfect, but the way I am now, like you said, I am free."

"Indeed. And perhaps you are even happy, as well. But are you fulfilled? Can you live the life you see stretching ahead of you, your regrets hanging from your shoulders until the day you die? These are questions only you can answer, but if your answer is yes, then I will leave you be. If no...? 

"Then you may have need of me." 

Sharra accepts this.

"I will meditate on your words," she says as she stands. "The main hold is open to you, as well as any of the contents in the galley. If you wouldn't mind keeping out of the more sensitive areas of the ship, I'd appreciate it."

She nods, "Very well. Should you need me, I will likely be here. I, also, have much to meditate on." 

So saying, she lowers her head, her breathing settling into a soft, even pattern. 

Sharra stays for an extra moment, watching, before she picks up Kreia's now empty bowl and departs.

She places it into the galley for later cleaning, refills her own bowl - and another of the mild version, and makes her way Atton-ward.

He's in the port dormitory, surrounded by parts of bunks, the mattresses leaning against the wall. He's working his way through a datapad in one hand, while his other holds a spoon over the nearly-empty bowl in his lap. 

Sharra blinks. "What did the Hawk ever do to you?"

"Uh," he blinks away from the datapad and up at her, "-oh, I'm just-" he waves the datapad around, "Reorganizing the bunks. We can put 'em all together, have one big bed instead of three small ones."

"Cozy," she says, sosososo fond, and sits down next to him. "I come bearing seconds."

"Ooh," he reaches out- pauses, "Non-spicy seconds, right?" 

"'Course, I'm no sadist. Foodwise."

"Mm," he takes the bowl, "You shoulda taken a mess shift. Could've swapped in the spicy stuff in those thugs' bowls."

She sneaks her feet into his lap. Cold.

"They don't deserve my spicy. Maybe if I could have just made it for you... and Uthuar. I bet he would love it."

"Nah, I just bet they couldn't handle it either. Just think of the faces they'd make..." 

He sips his stew, and sets his datapad aside so he can pat her feet with his other hand. 

Happymmm. She oms her spicy stew and doesn't actually think of the faces they would make.

He manages a few more bites before the silence gets to him.

"Soo... what was that about a holo of Revan?" 

She peeks her eyes open - nudges him with her foot.

"I could show you, if you like, but it's in Zaldyrian."

"...Is that where the soup's from?"