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There's a new painting on the right wall. Hera is waiting in the office, seated in the chair she always sits in, hands folded in her lap. Very still – her fingers don't fidget, her feet don't swing. She's finally grown enough that her toes comfortably touch the floor. Only her eyes flicker, down to her hands, and then up again, to the right wall, to the new piece of art that hadn't been there before.

To her eyes, it's a strange collection of rectangular shapes, among which she can barely make out what looks like a head, a neck, shoulders. Maybe arms. She counts the colors, white, blue, black, beige, lighter blue, darker blue. She perceives something that reminds her of light, light through a window, so that it makes bright squares on the floor that mingle with the shadow around it. She knows that it's Terran art. The head and neck and shoulders don't have to belong to a Terran, and yet, she knows. It's the kind of art he would have. And there was art like this, in the house, before –

She stops her thoughts at that, goes back to counting colors. Gray, like steel. Orange, a light orange, like rust.

He wouldn't make her wait if he didn't have to. She knows that. She feels no impatience, not even any curiosity as to why he called her in. There's always a reason. And with nothing else to occupy her, she sets her focus on memorizing this painting, just as she has memorized every other object and corner and space of this office.

Pale yellow. Dark green. Maybe, around those shoulders, the back of a chair.

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Thrawn would not mind if she got distracted, but it is a good sign that she chooses not to be.

"I would have thought she would press harder on your throwing technique, but there is something to be said for distance weapons. Have you disassembled one yet?"

Hera nods.

"She taught me that first, to take it apart and put it back together, before I could learn to fire it."

"Did she time you?"

He suspects the answer is yes, but whether she has started to encourage Hera to compete against herself . . . that may be an open question for at least another week.

"Yes, sir."

Hera takes another sip of her tea, and then, "She says later I'll have to do it blindfolded."

"Mastering that does tend to improve your sighted performance. It will be interesting for you to see precisely how much, when you reach that point."

He smiles, thin lips barely curving up at one corner.

"And mathematics is giving you no trouble? Flight calculations can be difficult, on the fly."

"I like flight calculations."

Though she does pause, still looking down at her soup, her spoon dipped in though she doesn't yet lift it. Another child might not so readily admit when their teacher has offered criticism, but -

"T'lul says I sometimes get distracted, because I try to do applied calculations before I learn the um - 'underlying theory.'"

She says the last two words in English, as she's not entirely sure she can express the Vulcan's term in Sy Bisti.

Edited 2018-07-25 13:04 (UTC)

"There's something to be said for practical applications, but T'lul is right. Understanding the underlying theory is what makes it easier to problem-solve in stressful situations."

Thrawn, too, uses the English term for now, just to make his statement absolutely clear.

Hera nods, dutifully. Any protest or reluctance is kept to herself.

"Datiu finished chemical sensitivities in Terrans compared to other species. Now Ijin is going to teach me about plasma conduits."

"Good lessons, all. Though I did wonder if, given your lessons have been going so well, you might be interested in playing a game?"

He steeples his fingers, regarding her over the tops of them.

She blinks up from the meal, her eyes just a little wide with surprise.

But she answers, "Okay."

"It is called chess, I do not know if you're already familiar with it. It's a Terran game, unfortunately, but it is very . . . useful to know, when it comes to understanding their martial point of view."

His voice is very dry on that last.

"There are other useful tools, and we will get to them with time. But this is a good one to begin with, because the rules are deceptively straightforward."

Hera shakes her head, as she hasn't heard that name before.

But she also listens intently to his explanation, and when he's finished replies, "I understand."

His smile is less thin, this time.

"We shall see. But let us finish eating, first. There is no sense in getting food on the game board."

Or the pieces.

Hera has no trouble following these instructions, though she's still careful to keep her pace more or less aligned with Thrawn's.

She's also still careful to gather up and consume every drop of soup, and every crumb from the biscuits.

And once they've finished, she doesn't need to be asked to help gather up the bowls and plates and set them aside.

When that minor chore is finished, Thrawn wipes the table off before going to the desk and opening one of the bottom drawers, wide and deep. He draws out a game board made of rich, dark wood, inlaid with different-colored granite squares, light and dark. There is a matching wooden box, and he brings both of these over to the table.

The box is set in front of Hera, and he opens it, revealing beautifully-carved marble pieces within.

"Would you like to investigate the pieces first? I shall explain their use in a moment."

She might not have known the name, but as soon as Hera sees the light-dark squares of the game board, her eyes alight with recognition. Her gaze turns to the box as Thrawn opens it, and she puts her hands on the table so she can pull herself up a little, and lean over the box as she looks inside it.

Her eyes flicker up when Thrawn speaks, and she nods. She slips slightly back into her seat, and reaches carefully into the box, first selecting one of the white marble pieces, carved into the shape of a horse. She'd never seen a real horse - before she'd studied them as part of Terran history and biology, she'd only known them from art and films that had sometimes appeared in her old household.

"That is what the Terrans call a knight," Thrawn says, as Hera turns the piece. "It moves in an irregular fashion compared to the rest of the pieces, which all move in straight lines. I shall demonstrate."

He sets the piece down on the board, moving it in a three square L-shaped pattern.

"It may take some time to become used to, but this piece is particularly strong when one is capable of imagining the unexpected."

Her eyes follow as he moves the piece across the board.

After he's finished this explanation, she nods to indicate her understanding.

Then she looks back into the box, and picks out another piece, this the only one of its kind. She runs her fingers along its curved edges, and the even points of the crown-like shape that tops the figure.

Then she looks back up to Thrawn, and holds the piece out to him.

Thrawn takes it from her, turning it over in his hand while he studies it out of narrowed scarlet eyes. He smiles briefly, then rests it on the board as well.

"This is a piece called the queen. She can move in any way the other pieces move, forward and backward, but not the way the knight moves. She can take any number of squares at a time, again unlike the other pieces. Some would call her the most powerful piece on the board."

Hera's eyes linger on the queen for a moment, and then the matching black piece still in the box. But she already has enough wisdom to know that if there are so many other pieces, each must be important.

So next she picks out the shortest piece, with similar curved edges but rounded top.

"There are a lot of these," she says, turning it over in her fingers before also holding it out to him.

"Those are what Terrans call pawns."

He looks down at her as he says that word, enunciating clearly.

"Have you heard them use it before, if you remember?"

Hera looks back down to the piece in her hands.

She stays that way for a few seconds, not turning the piece over or moving it at all from where it rests on her palm.

But with her eyes still down, she answers quietly, "Yes."

"They are the pieces that some might claim are the easiest to sacrifice if a player wished to lure her opponent out. Bait for a trap, if you will."

He pauses after that, attention turning from the chess pieces to Hera, watching for her reaction. And to see, perhaps, if she chooses to ask any question.

Hera's eyes stay down for another moment, but then she lifts her thumb, and again rolls the pawn over in her hand. It's not a question that comes to her mind, but a deduction.

"Then it's important, too."

From a certain point of view, in any case.

Thrawn smiles.

"Precisely. A person that is aware of that is one step ahead of her opponent, if they are of the opposite mind."