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In three weeks the Chimaera will deploy. Pyrondi and Hammerly continue to work together fluidly, supervising the retrofitting with their usual detailed efficiency. The young navigator, Bal’tem, has taken a shine to the two women—likely because they asked for her opinion for the navigator’s station and she was able to explain that she prefers a chair that in addition to sliding forward and backward, also swivels. Now, the trio are nearly inseparable much to Caretaker Zivahn’s dismay.
EDF pilots are given a crash course on how to pilot TIE defenders and will continue training with simulators during travel to the necessary sector. Thrawn has supervised their trainings and is unsurprised that they have caught on quickly. The Defense Force has and continues to be the reigning super power of the region.
Dobbs continues to learn Cheunh, though Un’hee volunteers to help him more than he had expected. It seems that the two have taken a liking to each other, which is more than what Thrawn can say for himself and Un’hee. She barely tolerates him at best and downright hates him at worst—much like his CO it seems.
Tensions with Eli continue. Thrawn provides all necessary status updates regarding the pilots, ship repairs and retrofitting, and his own research as requested. Eli, the entire time, sits still, watching him with a cold and calculating gaze, and when he’s done he asks him sharp and pointed questions. Thrawn feels like his defenses have been breached, Eli knows him and yet Thrawn cannot get a foothold around his once friend. It makes him wonder if he has become stagnant, if he will even be any help against the Grysks.
“Any other questions, sir?” Thrawn asks.
“Not at this time. Do you have any questions for me, Senior Captain?”
“The council said that we may have to deploy sooner. Is this still a possibility?”
“Not if they want us deploying in one piece,” Eli growls. “I’ll handle it. Continue in a three week trajectory.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eli stands and Thrawn stiffens into something like parade rest. He sweeps out of the room and leaves Thrawn in the wake of his indifference.
~
Two weeks and before the Chimaera deploys, Thrawn joins Pyrondi and Hammerly for dinner.
“Admiral—I mean,” Pyrondi begins.
Thrawn holds up a dismissive hand and folds himself over the bench. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“No, not at all, sir,” Hammerly says.
“Are you both acclimating well?”
“Yes, sir,” they say simultaneously and then share a quick smile.
“Everyone has been very receptive and kind,” Hammerly says.
“And extremely efficient,” Pyrondi supplies.
“Good,” Thrawn says and suddenly finds himself uncertain how to proceed. These two women aren’t his friends, per se, but they are the closest approximation. He has known them for years—has comforted Hammerly when her mother died and made sure she could be home for the funeral, has helped Pyrondi grow into the leader she is today. It all weighs too much on his tongue to find space for small talk.
“So,” Hammerly says, stretching out the syllable. “Kind of crazy that Vanto is the CO, right?”
“Keep your voice down,” Pyrondi hisses.
Hammerly glances around to make sure nobody of importance has heard them and lowers herself closer to her tray. “I’m just saying… I never knew he had it in him.”
“He has always been capable,” Thrawn mutters. “Has he spoken to either of you?”
“I mean, we did that meeting.” Eli has made it a point to speak with every senior officer one-on-one to ask about their assimilation and for anyway he could improve.
“Outside of the meetings.”
Hammerly contemplates. “No, not really. But during the meeting he seemed nice, much less,” she furrows her brow and frowns.
“I did ask him how he found himself as a CO in my meeting,” Pyrondi says.
“Pyro, are you insane?” Hammerly hisses.
“What did he say?”
She shrugs. “He just smirked and he was the lesser evil.”
“As opposed to what?” Hammerly prompts.
“I’m not that crazy,” she says. “Do you know what that means?”
Both women look at him. He shakes his head. “No.”
Hammerly puts her cheek in her hand and rests her elbow on the table. “I miss the old Vanto. He was less secretive.”
“You mean, less guarded. The man acts like everyone is out to get him.”
Thrawn looks between Pyrondi and Hammerly. They’re right. Eli is on edge, wary of others, and fiercely protective of the Ascendancy.
“Thank you very much. Have a good evening,” Thrawn says and packs up his dinner and exits swiftly.
~
Admiral Mak’ro folds his arms over his chest and glares at Thrawn. “Is there a reason you’re calling me… at 0400 in the morning?”
“My apologies… I had assumed you would be awake,” Thrawn says. Once, when they had served aboard the Springhawk , Mak’ro was frequently in the gym by 0400 and on the bridge by 0600.
“I am, but that’s not the point. What do you want?” Mak’ro asks and Thrawn is relieved that of all the changes that have happened in his absence, Mak’ro is just as prickly as ever.
“I have a few questions about my commanding officer, Commodore Ivant.”
“And you can’t ask him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Do you know the commodore well?”
Mak’ro growls and sits back. “Well enough.”
“He seems to distrust most of his crew.”
“Wouldn’t you? They’re fresh from the Empire that wasn’t exactly known for liking outsiders.”
“Commodore Ivant is Human.”
“That isn’t what I said,” Mak’ro says. “He is just as much Chiss as me or Ar’alani. He’s an outsider now and I suspect he’s ready to be treated as such.”
“Why?”
“Why don’t you rub two brain cells together and figure it out.”
Thrawn frowns. “You seem protective of him.”
“I’m not a gossip.”
“Very well.”
“Thrawn, take my advice, just talk to the man.”
“Thank you, Admiral, for your time.” Thrawn kills the comm and sits back. Manipulating people into giving him information has never been his strong suit. However, he has always been skilled at research and as Senior Captain, he should be able to view prior service records of everyone aboard his ship.
Pulling up his questis, finds Ivant’s service record. He began his journey aboard the Steadfast as a Lieutenant Commander, but was then transferred to the Springhawk after being promoted to Senior Commander and then back to the Steadfast as a Mid Captain… then there is a long break in his service record that is marked classified. When he returns to the Springhawk he is a Commodore.
He pulls the dates of service into a data matrix and, feeling a touch like Eli, references the crews of those ships within those dates. There are a few staple members, like Ar’alani or Mak’ro, but there is one name that he sees repeatedly: Vah’nya, Vah’nya, and then eventually Zivahn. He pulls up her record and finds that only her time as a Caretaker is unclassified, all military service prior to that is sealed.
Which means she was a navigator, which means Eli would have likely worked closely with her given his projects and how close he is to the Bal’tem. He closes everything down, wipes the search history and sweeps out of his office.
~
Thrawn knocks on the door to the caretaker suite and it opens almost immediately. Bal’tem grins up at him, though she is missing her two front teeth. “Good afternoon, Senior Captain. I knew you would come.”
“Is that so?” Thrawn asks. “Did you know that I would bring you candy?” he asks and procures a small sack of chocolate from behind his back.
Her grin grows wider and vanishes as Zivahn snatches the candy from his grasp. “Bribing children, that is low even for you.”
“Do you have a moment to speak?” Thrawn asks.
She sighs and waves him in. She looks pointedly at Bal’tem and the girl’s brow furrows. Zivahn, in turn, tosses her a single chocolate and the girl catches it with hardly a spared glance before disappearing into her room. “I assume you want to talk about Ivant.”
“What has led you to this conclusion?”
“Please,” she scoffs as she pours two cups of cacoleaf. Thrawn notes that the pot has recently been brewed, and enough was made for two. “You both pretend to be so aloof, but if anyone bothered to pay attention they would find you predictable.”
“How so?” he asks and tries to ignore the feeling of ineptitude biting at his ankles. He was only afforded such grace for his brilliance on a battlefield, if he is so predictable perhaps he is not what the Ascendancy needs.
“The commodore is ignoring you. I assume you’re trying to find his longest standing friend and pulled up our records.” She offers him a cup and leans against the kitchen table. “Though I must say I’m almost offended you don’t remember me from before.”
“My apologies. I have never been an expert at interpersonal relationships.”
She snorts. “You can say that again.”
“Do you know the reason he is so… distant?”
“Have you tried asking him ?”
“Not in so many words… no.” He has though. He has tried making a conversation with Eli and was met with… he doesn’t know how to describe it—resignation? Refusal? It, like so many other expressions, are wholly unidentifiable.
She heaves a sigh. “Eli has been forged by fire. Give him time to come to you.”
“What happened?”
“For a while, it was hard for him to assimilate with us. Chiss hate outsiders and he… well, he didn’t fit in. Then I watched as everything went to shit and suddenly he had to be everything we lacked as a people. I watched for years as more and more of him faded away and after the accident—”
“What accident?”
Her jaw snaps shut. “I shouldn’t say. He always accuses me of meddling.”
“Zivahn, I implore you, whatever information you have is vital. A ship cannot run if its leadership is unaligned.”
“Talk to Un’hee,” she says and checks the chrono. “At this time she’s likely in the dojo.”
“Thank you.” He sets down the cup of caco and moves to take his leave.
“Thrawn,” she says and he turns back to her. “Things are not as you left them. Families are broken and people have had to do what they can to survive. Eli is no different.”
“You call him Eli?”
“It’s his name,” she says. “Ivant is just a mask he hides behind.”
~
Thrawn checks four different dojos before he finds the one in which Un’hee is training. After the first two, he decided that she would likely pick a dojo with a view of the stars and thus focused his search to the outer dojos. It is just luck that she is in the second one he checks.
The young girl is training with a staff and uses the punching bag as her unfortunate victim. Her hair is braided back out of her face and she wears standard PT gear.
“Why are you here?” she asks after a solid thwap of the stick against the punching bag.
“To train. Though, I could use a sparring partner.”
She straightens and faces him. “I don’t like it when people don’t say what they mean.”
“Neither do I,” he says, “Perhaps the loser of the match will share information the other requires.”
“I won’t compromise the commodore.”
“I would hope not.” He grabs a staff and faces her. “Shall we?”
She attacks like lightning—combustive and fast. Thrawn instantly finds himself on the defensive—which he naturally prefers. He parries her blows, and has her beat in three.
“What is your relationship to the commodore?”
“I’m his aide.”
“Try again. The truth this time. I know there is a reason you do not have a family name yet are only a lieutenant commander.”
“Ivant is my adopted father. I don’t have a family name because he was never adopted into one either. We are all the other has. Does that answer satisfy you?”
“It does.”
They reset and she comes after him with the sort of feline fury he has only seen from Ar’alani. She knocks the staff from his hand. “What are your intentions?”
“To serve the Ascendancy.”
“Too vague. Try again.”
“To finish the mission I started. I wish to protect the Ascendancy, I went to the Empire to amass an army. I have brought back technology we have never seen and this will bring about the conflict with the Grysk.”
“Why do you want to know about the commodore?”
“One question per match, Lieutenant Commander.”
She growls and they set off again. The sparring is technically advanced, she clearly had an excellent teacher and the more he fights against her, the more he can see her predicting his next step. It seems that she is also a skywalker. He swipes at her feet and she hits the mat.
“Zivahn told me of an accident. What happened?”
Un’hee glares up at him. “It wasn’t an accident. It was an attack. Ivant has been working with navigators to reveal other abilities. He had six of us on his ship to see if we would learn from each other. Six navigators is an unfathomable payout. There was a mutiny. At one point, someone had rigged charges along the hall. I saw it, but it was too late. Zivahn was barely able to put up a forcefield before he was burned.”
Thrawn kneels beside her.
“I will never forget that. The smell of burning flesh, the way he sobbed. I had never seen him cry before, but the pain… I could feel it.” She clutches her chest and shudders. “We barely made it to the shuttle and even then we didn’t have any medical equipment. By the time we returned to Naporar they thought he was going to die…”
“And he was promoted to commodore,” Thrawn supplies.
“For protecting us, yeah.”
“This is why he is leary of new crews.”
“And why navigators no longer stay together. There are six of us here as well, but I’m sure you’ve only met three.”
“I see.”
She sits up. “Ivant doesn’t trust anybody and you’re not very trustworthy.”
Thrawn bows his head.
“But… if anyone could understand what he went through, it’s you.”
~
Three days before the Chimaera is set to deploy, Thrawn has an appointment to talk with Eli. There had been sooner openings, but he had needed time to collect himself—to practice what he wanted to say.
Un’hee answers the door. “Senior Captain.”
“Lieutenant Commander, I have an appointment.”
She checks her questis. “Indeed, you do. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thank you.” He waits in what used to be his living space and paces along the familiar path. The furniture has all been replaced with EDF standard furnishings and there is no decor. Thrawn wasn’t very frivolous either, but he at least had an art piece or two.
“Senior Captain,” Ivant emerges. “I’m ready for you.”
Thrawn follows him into his office and sits only after Ivant has done the same.
“What do you want to talk about?” Ivant asks. “I’ve received both of your reports and have no pressing questions for either.”
“I would like to apologize.”
Ivant blinks. “I see.”
“I sent you here with little preparation. I trusted that the network that once supported me would do the same for you. I had not expected the political fall out that would follow and for that you have my sincerest apologies.”
Ivant stands and Thrawn can see him trying to press down his anger. “I didn’t need you to take care of me. I made a network, the Stybla took care of me like I was one of their own even if the Syndicure wouldn’t allow an adoption. No, you don’t get to make yourself a victim. What is your fault is that you should have been here. You were too busy staying in the Empire where you could be in charge, where you could feel important.”
“I never stayed for self-importance,” Thrawn interjects, rising to meet him.
“Didn’t you? When I came back you could have left. We had an extraction plan ready.”
“The Emperor would have followed me into the Chaos.”
“With what navigators, Thrawn!?”
The silence that follows is loud. They stand with a table between them, but it may as well be a chasm—an irreparable void. A friendship lost to war and distance and martyrdom.
“Mistakes were made,” Thrawn whispers. “I failed. I failed our people and more importantly you. I will always serve the Ascendancy, but my loyalty will forever belong to you and only you.”
Ivant’s eyes soften and for a minute he looks like Eli. “I don’t want your loyalty,” he hisses. “I hate that you left us to figure this out on our own. We needed you. Everything went to shit, civil war broke out, Grysks were slaughtering our people and I had to be the one to hold it all together. When this war is over, I’ll likely be executed, do you understand that? Do you understand that I am the guard dog of the Ascendancy? The one who will kill any Grysk who gets in my way? Do you know what I am?!” His chest is heaving with anger and Thrawn is relieved. He would rather feel his anger than nothing at all.
Thrawn starts to round the table and Eli tracks his movement like a wounded animal. “I will never forgive myself for the wrongs I have done to you or our people.”
They stand face to face for the first time since they’ve been reunited.
“But there is innocent blood on my hands as well. The war is not yet over, but when it is we will be side by side in front of the executioner,” Thrawn says. “Thank you for allowing me this time to speak with you.”
Thrawn steps back and Eli reaches out, fast as lightning and grabs his uniform. They stay like this, an odd stalemate of wills. “I don’t need you,” Eli finally whispers.
“You never have needed me.”
Eli closes the distance between them and lets his head fall against his chest. It feels like surrender and Thrawn brings a hand up to cradle the back of his head.
And Eli weeps. It starts quietly, a soft warmth of tears to quiet sniffling, and then hiccups as he clings to Thrawn. And Thrawn holds him. He knows this self hatred. He knows the nightmares, the loss, the blood on his hands. He knows the feeling of falling into a dark void with nothing to bring him back right.
He holds Eli closer and Eli clings to him like he is drowning. They don’t speak or move until Un’hee informs him that their meeting time is over and that his next engagement is in ten minutes.
Thrawn straightens Eli’s uniform and salutes. Eli does the same and they go to work.