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The Art of War	By : Aggy Category: Star Wars (All) > General Views: 2647 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
See first chapter for disclaimer

The Art of War
Chapter 2

He was taller than she expected. For some reason Jolyn had always expected
pilots to be short. Maybe it was because
the holos always showed them standing next to brawny
commandos that towered over everyone. He
had a pilot�s swagger, cocky with a hint of arrogance that should have made him
insufferable, but instead came off as sexy.
He looked like a boy that had been raised on a farm. She knew �boy� was an inaccurate description,
but he had a youthful face and his wide-eyed reaction to the excitement around
him gave him an air of naivety. Wholesome. The word
popped into her mind. Innocent
and wholesome, a combination that was completely unexpected in a man that was a
member of the legendary Rogue Squadron.

His dark hair and eyes were the same as the holos. What the holos hadn�t shown her was how handsome he was. Gavin Darklighter
wasn�t attractive in the usual, holo star sort of
way, but he had strong features. His
skin had a beautiful sun bronzed glow that had her thinking about shadows and
light. She suddenly craved paint and
canvas, wanting to capture the motes of light that danced through her brain.

//Calm down. You can paint later. Talk now.//
She forced herself to ignore the fluttering in her stomach and focus on
the sketch before her. The footsteps
stopped beside her. Her fur ruffled
slightly as his sleeve brushed against her bare arm. She smiled.
The expression was the subdued smile Gavin knew Bothans
used in front of Humans, showing almost none of her sharp teeth. �You are a gifted artist, Lieutenant Darklighter.�

Jolyn tipped her head to one side,
watching the pilot carefully to see his reaction to her words.

He smiled gravely.
�Thank you.�

She waited for him to add some sort of comment. When the silence stretched between them, she
tried to keep the conversation going, not wanting the Human to leave. �I wish that you had done some of them in
color. They are vivid in charcoal and pencil, but they would LIVE if they had
even a hint of color.�

The pilot shifted from one foot to the other. �I never picked up the knack of paint or
pastel.�

Her ears drooped slightly in disappointment. �That�s too bad, Lieutenant. Your line quality is exquisite.� The female gesturing
widely, almost spinning in place.
�In color it would be magnificent!�

Gavin studied her, watching her hands wave as she talked
about pigment and paint quality. �You�re
a painter, I assume.�

Her blue eyes widened.
�How did you know?�

He gently caught one of her hands and turned it so that back
was visible. �All the
flecks of paint on your fur.�

A Human would have blushed.
The Bothan�s gold fur rippled, or at least
rippled until the dried paint caused the motion to stop. She winced and sighed. �I hate it when I get paint on my fur. It HURTS.�

Gavin couldn�t help smiling.
He ran his thumbs over the paint splotches. �Nothing will remove it?�

The Bothan sighed gustily. �Paint remover will get rid of it, but it
will also bleach my fur. So I have a
choice, be multicolored or suddenly become white in spots.� She leaned forward and whispered, �I thought
the paint would be less noticeable.�

That caused Gavin to chuckle. �So instead of being a blotchy Bothan you�re speckled instead?�

�You never know, speckles might become fashionable someday.�

�Maybe,� he conceded, though he seriously doubted that Bothans across the Galaxy would suddenly wake up one
morning and decide that throwing paint on themselves
was fashionable.

Shyly, she pulled her hand free. �Would you mind, walking with me,
Lieutenant? I would love to talk to you
while viewing your sketches.�

Darklighter looked over his
shoulder, checking to see if any of his friends were looking for him. All the Rogues and their lovers were in small
groups, chatting happily. He felt a tiny
spark of pride knowing that it was HIS work that was giving them all an
opportunity to socialize in a normal setting.
Though Gavin wasn�t sure how �normal� a gallery opening was. He didn�t know any of the other patrons of
the exhibit, so he could ignore anyone who might be interested in speaking to
him.

�I�d be happy to,� he replied, offering the female his
arm. She hesitated a moment, then slid
her arm through his. �You never told me
your name.�

�Jolyn,� she answered, running her
hand over the crystal beads that trailed through her pale fur.

�Jolyn isn�t a usual Bothan name.�

She laughed, a deep sound that
rumbled softly from her throat. �The
gallery�s owner, Stephan, has a little boy.
When he was learning to speak, Kev could never
say my real name. Jol�skn
was too complicated for him. So he
dropped a few consonants and it became Jolyn. The name stuck. I liked it, so I kept it.�

�So you work here?� Gavin asked.

Jolyn blew out a frustrated
sigh. �Of course I work here. Didn�t I just say that?�

Gavin thought a moment.
�Indirectly, I guess.� He watched
her study another of his sketches, this one of an x-wing and its maintenance
crew. �You�re name is just Jol�skn. No clan
name?�

The female turned away from the drawing. Her eyes narrowed slightly, her ears pulling
back slightly. �My clan doesn�t want me
and I don�t want them. Jolyn�s the name my friends gave me and it is the one that
I honor.�

The pilot winced, wishing he could take back his words. Bothan honor was a
tricky thing and even after having a relationship with a Bothan
from the squad he still didn�t understand its intricacies. �I�m sorry, Jolyn. I didn�t mean to offend you. Please forgive me.�

Her ears twitched, then she
relaxed. �Apology accepted.� Suddenly she focused on another drawing,
practically dragging him over to it.
�Oh! This is amazing. Simply amazing.� She stepped closer until her nose was almost
touching the paper. �How did you capture
the fur? It looks REAL.�

Gavin felt himself grow cold inside as the painter studied a
portrait of Asyr Sei�lar. He stared at the image of his dead lover and
tried not to let grief ruin this happy evening.
//She would be proud of me, even if I kept this aspect of myself hidden
from her.//
They�d both had secrets, some cultural, others personal. They�d respected those differences and Asyr had never asked why some nights he needed to wander
off alone. He still missed her. But he wouldn�t, couldn�t,
let that old sorrow take over.

Jolyn looked over her shoulder at
him, envy and respect brightening her eyes.
�I�ve been trying to make fur look that real for years and I�ve never
been able to do it.� Her rambling stopped
when she realized the Human was trying to control his emotions. �Did I say something wrong?� She turned around, facing him. �I usually say the wrong thing. I�m terribly sorry if I said something to
upset you.�

The pilot shook his head.
�No, you said nothing wrong.�

She looked at the portrait, then at Gavin. Understanding took hold. �Oh!
You once had a relationship with a Bothan. Is this her?�

Darklighter nodded, swallowing the
grief that was creeping through him.
�This is Asyr Sei�lar. She died at Corvis Minor Five.�

�I saw the reports on the HoloNet. She was an excellent pilot. At least the holos
said she was.�

�She was one of the best,� Gavin said simply. Even if she never won the same number of kill
markers as the rest of the squadron, she was still one of the best. At least to him.

//I�m probably going to offend him with
this line of conversation. Oh
well. I usually offend everyone I meet
at least once.//
�It�s rare for a Human to date a Bothan.�

Gavin nodded, uncertain where this topic would lead. Some Bothans
thought it was a disgrace for one of their people to date a Human.

�Did you date her because you liked her or because you
wanted to know what it was like to be with a non-Human?�

�What?� Gavin yelped.

Jolyn laughed. �Did you date her because you liked her or
did you just want to fuck a Bothan.�

�I would never. . .�
Gavin left the thought unfinished, uncertain HOW to finish it. How could anyone think that he would. . .

The female studied him carefully. Despite her silly gestures, she actually
seemed extremely perceptive. �No, you�re
not the type. You dated her because you
liked her, not because you wanted to fuck a non-Human.� She gave him the strange, lolling smile that Bothans used with other Bothans. He knew it was a sign that she liked
him. �Though when you met her, you might
have wondered what it was like to make love to someone with fur.�

Heat scorched Gavin�s cheeks. He sputtered, causing her to grin
widely. �Yep, you did. I don�t blame you. The first time I found a Human attractive, I
wondered what it was like to touch a body that WASN�T covered in fur.�

That statement made him blush a deeper shade, which Jolyn found fascinating.
She loved the way Human skin turned colors, turning beautiful shades to
convey their emotions. Bothans did the same with rippling fur, which was lovely in
its own way, but lacked the vibrancy of Human emotion.

She turned away from him, knowing that Human males disliked
blushing, to study the sketch of his lost Bothan. �You loved her very much,� Jolyn said softly.
�You can see it in the softness of the lines. She was a beloved subject. I�m surprised that you�re willing to part
with this one.�

Gavin allowed his embarrassment to flow away, focusing on Asyr�s face. �Yes, I
loved her very much.� He rolled his
shoulders, easing the tension that memory created. �I kept the drawings of her when she was
happy, but this one . . . I never liked her mood in this one. She was so pensive, almost despairing. I hate remembering her that way. So why not let someone enjoy looking at her?�

One tawny ear cocked sideways as Jolyn
glanced from the sketch to its artist.
�And it memorializes her,� she added shrewdly.

Suddenly at a loss of words, Gavin could only nod.

She laughed and leaned against his shoulder. �Don�t worry, I have
that effect on most people. Everyone
sees me as a flighty, fizz-brained painter.
They rarely notice that there�s actually a brain in my skull that isn�t
made of fizz.�

�And you rarely prove otherwise,� he guessed.

�Why should I? Most
people think I�m a vapid fool. I learn
many interesting data points that way.�
When the pilot gave her a questioning look, she sighed. �No, I�m not an information broker. I�m too open for that profession. I�d be killed within an hour of attempting to
deal with one of those cutthroats.�

She glanced at the crowd, then
grinned, ears pricked forward, eyes glowing with mischief. �Let�s get out of here. No one will miss you.�

�But . . .� Gavin gestured at the framed drawings
that decorated the walls. �This show is
for me.�

Tugging lightly on his arm, she began leading him towards
the back of the gallery. �No one expects
you to stay the entire night. Everyone
will have a grand time whether you�re here or not.�

Darklighter shrugged and let Jolyn lead him away.
�Where are you taking me?�

�To see MY work! Unless you don�t want to
see my paintings.�

�Of course I do.� And
he found himself wanting to see both the paintings and the artist that created
them. �And maybe afterward we could get
a cup of caf?�

�Most men want to get something alcoholic when they ask me
out. Probably hoping
that the alcohol will either dull my tongue or make it more active.� The Bothan laughed
as Gavin gave her a shocked look. //I
was right. Wholesome
and innocent. What a fascinating
combination. I�ll have to be careful not
to scandalize him TOO much.//

She decided to stay silent as she led him into the Violet
Phase�s storeroom. As she wove around
the plasteel racks that held various pieces of
artwork, she barely noticed the way Gavin stared at the neatly organized
space.

//Aren�t storerooms supposed to be cluttered?// Chaotic described
the storage spaces assigned to the snubfighter
squadrons. As he walked by each rack, he
read the carefully lettered labels that marked each one, describing each item
on the shelf and naming its artist. �Did
a droid organize all this?�

Jolyn�s ears twitched in
amusement. �Actually I catalogued
everything.�

�You?� Gavin�s voice was incredulous.

The Bothan considered being
offended, but decided to take his surprise as a compliment. �I arrange the exhibits. I got sick of things just being thrown in
here. I couldn�t make a proper display
if I didn�t know where anything was, so I decided to organize.�

Before Gavin could comment, Jolyn pulled
a painting out of its rack. �This is
mine.� The pride in her voice was
obvious, as was the insecurity in her blue eyes. �What do you think?�

It was a bright blend of pastel colors flaming across the
canvas. Flowers danced in a spiral
outwards, giving movement to what would normally be called a still life. It was strange and exciting. It made him want to smile. �It�s beautiful. I . . .� he stared into Jolyn�s
hopeful face and sighed. �I really don�t
have the words to describe it. I�m a pilot. I don�t have training in art.�

She shoved the painting back into its spot then flung her
arms around his neck. �That is the best
review I�ve ever received!�

Uncertainly, Gavin wrapped his arms around her. �Hasn�t your work ever been reviewed?�

�Yes. By snooty
critics that talk about style and balance and other boring things. They�ve praised me, but you . . . You spoke
honestly. You think it�s beautiful. That�s better than any of their educated
reviews.�

He was pleased that he had made her so happy, but wasn�t
sure if he should pull away from her hug or pull her
closer. She solved the dilemma by
stepping away and pulling more paintings free of their racks. Thankfully, she
didn�t want more praise, only wanting him to see the powerful works she had
created.

He was moved by the portraits that she had painted. Though lacking the crisp realism he always
strove for, they portrayed each person in a loving detail. The features were blurred, but they were
lifelike, showing personality instead of the actual exact proportions of face
and body. They captured the soul, Gavin
realized. He wondered what would happen
if she painted a portrait using one of his sketches as the initial reference.

When the last one settled back into its place, she rubbed
dust off the end of her nose. �I am
thirsty,� she announced, throwing her head up regally. �You promised me caf
and I want it now!�

�Bossy aren�t you?� Gavin chuckled.

�Aren�t all Bothans?� she
countered. �I want caf. Iced with whipping cream on
top. And maybe some of those
pretty pink sprinkles on top of the whipped cream.�

�Anything else, Mistress Bossy?�

She thought for a moment.
�And a nice ripe berry on top!�

Gavin laughed, letting Jolyn drag
him out of the storage room and away from the party. Mirax noticed his
strange situation. She grinned and waved
before Jolyn gave one final tug and pulled him out of
the gallery.
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The Art of War