Star Wars: The Sith War - Fiction: What To Do?

[Evana]

Steam filled the small room as the shower’s running stream of hot water fogged the mirrors and frosted glass door. A pale silhouette, visible behind the frost, swayed lazily as she allowed herself he opportunity to relax and enjoy the hot water to drench her curves. Her hands pushed through her soaked hair. It was so platinum blond that it almost appeared a silvery-gray color while wet.

Several ‘bleeps’ and ‘bloops’ broke her silent relaxation.

“I don’t know Ayvee,” the desperate noble said over the rushing water. “I really don’t know what we’re going to do.”

AV-8R, Evana’s pilot droid, rolled into the refresher, his mechanized servos humming in contrast to the shower. The purple R4 unit turned its domed head in the direction of where Evana was soaking. He wobbled and made more noises.

“I know, I know… get me a towel, please,” the water went silent and the glass door slid open. Ayvee’s claw manipulator rose up slowly and handed her a towel as best he could for his size. She thanked her companion as she draped it around her and walked into the main living area of her small dwelling. “We’re kind of screwed little guy.”

Ayvee went “wooooooo” to express his unlove of the situation.

“We aren’t going to get very far with the Sith hounding our every step, that’s for sure.” With another towel in hand she dried her hair. “We can’t keep running and hiding though. Ugh… this is all so… way to big for me.” Punctuated by a sigh of frustration Evana collapsed backward on her bed. “We’re never getting home Ayvee. We’re going to die out here in the Corellia Sector of Nar Shaddaa. Fun huh?”

Ayvee bleeped out binary that Evana seemed fairly adept at understanding. He began detailing the difference in her and him, mostly her death being permanent while he could simply be rebuilt and continue on and with a standard memory wipe would most likely not even recall who she was afterwards.

“You totally suck at making me feel better. You know that?” She rolled her eyes and sighed again. The scant clad young beauty rolled over on to her tummy, keeping care to remain tucked properly in her towel, her pillow near her head. She unfolded and put on her glasses from off of her nightstand. Stretching one more time she pulled over her book shaped datapad.

She spoke a phrase in an odd tongue and the magnetic locking clasp flashed three times in red until finally blinking green and unlatching with a mechanical ‘click’. It was a rather novel disguise for a datapad. Most nobles and prominent diplomats were fond acquiring designer comms and datapads, it was just a way to display ones station silently.

On the left side of the ‘book’ a LCD display quickly spelled out a greeting and ‘booted’ up with Evana’s personal theme, a pastel array of flowers and cute bunnies but that’s not what interested her tonight. On the right side of the pages nine data cards were tucked safely away in little niches squeezed into their own little section in three rows of three. Next to those cards, taking up the left half of the ‘page’ was Evana’s most sacred treasure: her father’s lightsaber.

Gently her fingertips traced their way over the Jedi weapon. “It was my Dad’s,” she said to Ayvee. “He’d have known what to do.”

Ayvee could express only a ‘Oooo’ in binary as his organic master seemed to become lost in memory.

[Evana]

The tiny room was lit only with the small reading light that rested on the nightstand beside the bed. Silently asleep the worn out Evana Nivix, still in nothing but a shower towel, rested comfortably. Her thumb gently stroked the lightsaber lovingly like a child would their teddy bear.

Shadows klung to everything within the ephemeral mists of the memory that played in the sleeping woman's mind. A room, sparsely furnished, elegant in its design and used for meditation.

A young girl stepped through the threshold clutching a kowakian monkey lizard stuffed toy tightly to her. A shirt several sizes to large for her covered her frame concealing her feet and leaving a wide tail of unused shirt behind her. It was amazing she hadn't tripped over it all.

"When I gwow up will yoo teach me to bwing peace to da gawaxy da?" Like the coo of a dove her soft innocent words filled the chamber and brought a smile to the face of the man sitting at its center.

Broad shouldered and muscular for his age the Force had tempered his physique to withstand the blight of aging. The venerable bearded man motioned for her to approach him. He greeted her arrival with an outstretched arm, huggin her gently and finally resting his hand upon her small shoulder.

"Peace, my daughter, is a lie." Gravel tumbled in his voice but his tone was nothing but sincere. "Wars are eternal. All one may hope to be in this galaxy is a leader or a follower. A great leader's courage to fulfill his vision comes from passion, not position. He rallies those passions in others to inspire them to defend their homes and freedom. That Leader will inspire his people to win the day, and in the end there will be peace, for a time. The people may forget what their leader said, but they will never forget how he made them feel."

His hands once again rested tightly around his double-bladed lightsaber. "Peace it a lie. There is only Passion. That is your lesson for this day my daughter. Leave me to my meditations."

She smiled. "Wuv yoo daddy. I won' foget." Pattering foot steps echoed through the empty halls as the youngling scampered off to bed. Peace is a lie, there is only passion. danced in her mind, she would make her father proud one day.