Oh, it does have a mind of its own, she all but laughed to herself. She hadn't honestly expected the man capable of producing an original thought, much less a question.
"My mother and aunt trained me. Later, my master. You might know him as Glasya Ren." She felt no compunction at offering him an answer; what was he going to do, run and tell Captain Phasma or some other high ranking official that she'd deigned to speak with him for something other than orders? He didn't seem like the type to go tattle-tale on someone, and Issan was curious how far this conversation might go.
"It was quite different from the Order's training. More...hands on training. I understand you train with simulators, practice dry runs? Have you seen combat yet?" Issan honestly knew little of the stormtroopers training, having only taken a single cursory tour upon her entrance into the Knights of Ren around one of the Order's ships. Glasya likely knew more, enjoying knowledge in any shape and form, but Issan had found it tedious at best.
The Order's structure had its benefits, but she found the training lacking emotion. There was sense in that, but she also found it to be a flaw. What good was clay until it had experienced its first firing? Only then would the maker see cracks, find out the true strength of the material.