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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
- 2
- 3
See first chapter for disclaimer

The Art of War
Chapter 3

Jolyn got her iced caf with whipping cream and a berry on top. She lamented the lack of sprinkles, then
maneuvered the straw into her muzzle and took a sip. The dreamy expression on her face battled
with her comical attempts at using the straw.
He ordered caf, strong and black. He sensed he�d need clarity while talking to
Jolyn.

�I don�t mean to be rude, but you�re not like any Bothan
I�ve ever met.�

Jolyn smiled, or at least did the Bothan equivalent of a
smile, showing fangs and lolling tongue.
�I think that�s the best compliment I�ve ever received.�

Gavin couldn�t help staring at the female. �Most Bothans pride themselves on acting . .
.�

�Proper. Dignified. Stuffy.� Jolyn rolled
her blue eyes at the Rogue. �Is there
any other adjectives I missed?� She took
a sip of her iced caf, cream covering the tip of her
nose. Her eyes crossed before she slowly
licked the white fluff away. Gavin shook
his head, unable to speak as he watched her pink tongue.

�Like I said earlier, my family disowned me.� She gave an eloquent shrug. �So I disowned them.�

Gavin was sure that they were both speaking Basic, but he
couldn�t quite understand what was going on.
�Why did they disown you? Exile
is a pretty serious punishment on Bothawui.�

�I defied my parents,� Jolyn said simply. �I wanted to be an artist. My parents wanted me to be a politician.�

�Another Borsk Fey'lya� Darklighter
muttered.

Jolyn ran a hand over her tawny fur. �But much better looking.� She sighed, her light mood darkening. �On our world, art is something scorned. It�s a hobby, not a profession. And it�s nothing more than a way to relax
between important functions.� Her eyes
grew distant, both with pain and happiness.
�But for me, it was pleasure. It
was as invigorating as a summer storm.
It became as vital as breathing.�

�And your parents hated it,� Gavin guessed.

�I don�t think �hate� is a strong enough word for what they
felt,� Jolyn laughed. Despite the
flippant tone, that past hurt still ached.
�My mother had fits ever time I came home covered with paint.�

Gavin�s eyes drifted to the splotches of red and blue that
freckled Jolyn�s hands. �My father
glowered whenever I even hinted at a career that didn�t involve politics. Once my mother took away my
paints, forbidding me to ever use them again. I just took up drawing.� The Bothan grimaced. �I never really was good at drawing, but it
was an outlet.� She sipped at her caf, taking care not to get her nose coated again. �When my parents found my drawings, they burned
them.� Her voice picked up a harsh edge
that raised the hair at the back of Gavin�s neck. �They forced me to watch as my drawings and
paintings became ashes.�

She shook herself, her hair rippling ferociously. �I was sixteen at the time, not quite an
adult, but close enough to legal age. I
stole some credits from them, enough to get on a transport and head for Coruscant. When I
found work, I paid them back and sent them a message telling them I was
safe. I got a coolly worded reply that
said I had been disowned.�

Gavin tried to imagine his parents doing such a thing and
failed. There was no way they would turn
their backs on him. They hadn�t
supported his decision to become a Rogue, but they hadn�t denied him his
chance. How must it feel to be rejected
in such a cruel way?

�What did you do when you reached Coruscant? It isn�t exactly open to non-Humans.�

�I worked three menial jobs at once, earning enough money to
scrape by. I went hungry quite a few days
so that I could buy a new set of paints.�
She smiled dreamily. �It was
wonderful. I could paint without fear of
anyone finding out. I could paint
whatever subjects I wanted, whenever I wanted.�
Her eyes focused on him. The
Rogue wasn�t sure if he should enjoy her scrutiny or worry about its
intensity. �And then the heroes came to Coruscant. It was
liberated from those Imperial bastards and I could finally sell my paintings at
legitimate galleries.�

Gavin felt himself blushing from her �heroes� comment, but
ignored the heat that crept across his cheeks.
�You said you worked at the gallery.�

Jolyn eyed her empty glass and considered ordering another caf. �I do. Occasionally, they showcase my art. Not on nights like tonight. Tonight, you get the whole gallery. But after they�ve sold a few of your
drawings, my paintings will return to their normal places.�

He took a sip of his cooling caf. �I�m sorry my drawings displaced yours.�

�Don�t be. They�re
much better than anything I�ve painted.�

Gavin shook his head.
�No they�re not. They�re
different that�s all. They�re
beautiful. I draw realism. You paint. . .�

�Fantasy?� Jolyn guessed.

�No, you paint the inner beauty. I draw the outer shell.�

�A very interesting way to describe it,� the Bothan said
slowly. She rolled his words around in
her mind. Wonderful ideas for paintings
blossomed. She quickly filed them away
until she had a moment alone to create.

Slowly, their conversation moved away from art to other
topics. Holos
they had seen. Novels they had
read. Rare luxuries that Gavin savored;
mundane actions that Jolyn took for granted until she saw how rare they were to
the pilot. //Must be
hard, being out in space all the time.
Shut off from the rest of the Galaxy.//
She had never thought of it while watching newscasts of the Rogues
adventures on the �Net, but now, while sitting across from one of those famous
beings, she realized how out of touch they were. //How sad, to protect us all, they end up
alienating themselves from the very people they�re protecting.// Jolyn would never voice that thought to
Gavin. Why make him think about his
isolation?

By the time Gavin�s caf had grown
ice cold and Joyln�s iced caf
was room temperature, the Gand that had served them
their drinks was glaring vibroblades at them. Joyln nodded her
head towards the frustrated being. �I
think he wants us to leave.�

�It is getting late,� Darklighter
admitted, glancing at his chrono. �I don�t want to leave but I guess we
should. Can I walk you home?�

�I�m sure you can,� Jolyn answered. �You have the correct number of legs. Though if you didn�t I�m sure you could
manage something. A hoverchair. Or maybe just hopping on one leg all the way.�

Gavin shook his head in frustration. �I meant: may I walk you home?�

Jolyn blinked at him.
�If that�s what you meant, that�s what you should have said! And yes, you may walk me home.�

//Bothans are so confusing . . . // No, not all Bothans. Most of the Bothans Gavin had met were precise,
frighteningly precise. But Jolyn seemed
to revel in being obscure and mercurial.

He stood and offered the female his hand. Her fingers wrapped around his, claws gently
touching his skin as he pulled her to her feet.
They left the restaurant, ignoring the muttered curses of the Gand. She led him
through a maze of walkways, lifts, and corridors. To Gavin, it seemed that they reached her
doorway much too soon.

Jolyn looked at her door, then at the pilot, finding herself
at a loss for words. �So . . . I guess
this is where we say good bye.�

�I guess it is,� Gavin answered. He swallowed hard, trying to remember some of
the convoluted protocols that Asyr taught him.
Suddenly, he bowed, keeping his eyes to the ground. //Looking up while bowing
is a grave insult. Bowing too low
is a sign of submission. Hold my hands loosely.
Don�t make a fist. Gods, was
there anything else I should remember? //
�I would be honored to speak with you again.�

The Bothan blinked at the Human. //So his lover taught him something of our
culture. And he was compassionate enough
to remember her lessons.//
It had been a long time since one of her kind had shown her such
an honor. Usually her status as an exile
meant she was contemptible. To see a
Human treat her with a Bothan�s
sign of respect was mind boggling.
Pushing away a strange feeling of nostalgia, Jolyn cleared her
throat. �I would be pleased to speak
with you again, Gavin Darklighter.�

He straightened and smiled shyly. //That smile is going to get me in trouble,// Jolyn decided, //And I�m going to enjoy ever nanosecond
of it.// His eyes widened as she stepped
forward, eyebrows sweeping upward gracefully.
//Gods, I�d love to paint him.
What a fascinating subject he would be!// Slowly, carefully, she rubbed her check
against his. �You are welcome in my den,
Gavin Darklighter.
May my hearth bring comfort, my fire bring
warmth, and my presence bring friendship to you.�

She waited for him to react.
She knew he probably didn�t know the rest of that ancient blessing. He didn�t, but his answer was
delightful. His arms encircled her and
he rubbed his smooth cheek against her fur.
�Thank you, Jolyn. I am deeply
honored.�

A shiver ran down her spine, she wanted to let this moment
stretch out into infinity, but knew it could not last. �And I will be thrilled to talk to you
again. I hope you come to see me again.�

Gavin stepped away, but still remained comfortably
close. �I will. Unless I�m. . .� His voice trailed off and he shrugged
apologetically.

�Unless you�re called on a mission. I know that you have duties. I�m not so shallow that I think that you�re
going to drop everything just to visit me.�

�Some women are shallow enough to think that,� Gavin
muttered.

�Then they are shallow AND selfish. You have an important duty. You can�t just ignore it to satisfy some
stuck-up female�s whim.� She shook her
head and smiled. �I went off on a
tangent. Sorry about that. Please come see me any time you�re
on-planet. I�d really do want to talk to
you again.�

�I will, Jolyn. I promise.�
He returned her smile. �Good
night.�

�Good night, Gavin.�
She waited for him to leave, but instead he watched her for a long
moment, then shifted from one foot to the other. Jolyn studied him, ears quirking
forward. //Did I forget to do
something? Human culture is so
confusing.// �Um . . . Gavin, did you
want something?�

�I was waiting for you to go inside,� Gavin said, a faint
flush creeping over his features.
�Why?� //It�s more than just confusing. It�s baffling!//

Gavin ran a hand through is black hair. �To make sure you�re safe.�

Jolyn fought the urge to laugh. A Bothan male wouldn�t have dared suggest
that a female couldn�t take care of herself.
But she knew Darklighter meant no insult. It was chivalry not disrespect that caused
him to act in such a way. �I�m at my
doorstep, Gavin. I am perfectly safe.�

�I�d prefer to wait until you were inside before I
leave.� He squared his shoulders,
suddenly his shyness replaced with resolve.

//Males! Stubborn no
matter the species.// But Gavin�s
stubbornness was rather endearing. �All
right, I�ll go inside.� //Even though I
would really enjoy the view of you walking away. I�m sure he has a wonderful. . .// Perhaps she�d be able to watch some other
time. She keyed open the door and
stepped into the opening. �May the
Force be with you, Gavin Darklighter.�

He bowed his head slightly, causing his hair to fall into
his eyes. �And with
you, Jolyn.�

It took all her willpower to NOT brush his hair out of his
eyes. Not to grab him and pull him
inside. Instead she let the door slide
closed. Sighing, she padded through her tiny
apartment and tried not to think about how dull the night seemed now that Gavin
was gone.
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The Art of War