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“Good Day, Lieutenant Vanto.”
Thrawn knew he was a dead man walking. By getting involved with the Chiss Ascendancy, he was giving the Emperor all the more reason not to trust his loyalties. Further, if the rumors were true, that the Emperor was in fact able to read minds, then now he was truly sealing his fate. It took every ounce of his concentration to not crack under the pressure. So when confronted with Eli, Thrawn felt himself run on a sort of automatic pilot. Unable to address the feelings stirring within him he would simply deliver a pleasantry, move the group along.
“We need to go to the observation post. The boarding party has done its initial sweep. We should join them as quickly as possible.”
That would have to do. He’d not stuttered or misspoken. His face remained an impassive mask. Thrawn turned away from Eli and Ar’alani to begin the walk back to his shuttle. Left foot, right foot. His personal Death Trooper guards closed in as they approached the ramp. It was nearly claustrophobic but Thrawn would not tell them to break formation. That would be a sign of weakness.
“Of course.” Ar’alani replied, and a moment passed where there was only one additional set of footsteps. Eli had hesitated. “Come, Lieutenant.”
Eli had hesitated.
Thrawn was glad that he lead the group, allowing himself a moment to close his eyes, exhaling as deeply as he could in this second. He would not crack. He could not. He was in too deep. Yet, here he was, an ache in his chest burning right through him. Thrawn would not be shocked if his core was blooming in heat in Ar’alani’s vision. Thankfully, she did not mention it, and humans could not see in the infrared spectrum.
“Yes, Admiral.”
Eli sounded pointedly disappointed. Maybe even bothered. Thrawn knew exactly why.
He did not permit himself the pleasant thought, fearing it would split him in two.
The rest of the walk passed by in excruciating silence, but Thrawn knew that if he had tried to speak again he might break composure. No, this was for the best. Yet…
Catching Eli’s reflection on the polished hull on the ship, Thrawn felt his heart seize. Oh how he wanted to pull the man into an embrace, kiss every inch of skin.
“Interesting design” Ar’alani said, gesturing to the observation post floating in space before them once in the shuttle. “Not one I’ve seen before.”
A moment of silence passed. Eli did not comment, and Thrawn gripped his forearms behind his back so hard he feared he may pierce the fabric of his uniform. Loosening his strangle-hold, he responded. “Nor I.” The two words felt like running a marathon. It was all too much, yet he wanted so much more. The conversation between Thrawn and Ar’alani dragged on forever, him only providing simple observations. It was routine. Easy. Too easy.
No. It was not at all. Eli did not speak, but he existed in the too small space, breathing the same air and frowning. Thrawn cursed himself for catching Eli’s expression in the corner of his eye. He looked thoughtful and upset and entirely the opposite of how Thrawn had left him. Ar’alani had told him that the human’s transition had been difficult, most of the Chiss thinking him a sort of inferior.
And now this was how Thrawn was going to treat him. Much the same. Not worth anything more than a “Good day.”
It was wrong, inhumane, cruel. But it was necessary. Above all, above feelings and lives and trust and anything else tangible or intangible, the mission came first. Thrawn had warned Eli to that fact, not in those exact words but the sentiment had been there, yet he had insisted on nurturing the budding romance between them. Eli knew where Thrawn’s loyalties lay. That was likely why the human, prone to voicing strong opinions, was keeping strongly, eerily quiet.
But Eli was not who Thrawn should be worrying about. It was the Emperor. A being who, with a point of the finger, could order Thrawn executed, or worse. Mined for information on the Chiss. There was a back up plan, Thrawn considered as he ran his tongue across his back molar, but it was still not optimal. It would disrupt the mission.
“You’re certain?” Ar’alani pressed. Thrawn braced himself. This would be difficult news to deliver.
“Yes, all of them are dead.” He nearly turned to Eli for a translation of his next word, forgetting for a moment that he was indeed communicating in his native tongue. A bad habit that always struck at the most inappropriate times. “Murdered.”
Ar’alani did not seem to notice his pause, nodding.
Eli let out a low whistle, the sort to indicate a mild sort of shock or surprise, usually followed with some sort of colloquialism like ‘whoa’ or ‘Krayt spit’. But this time, there was only the whistle, a hand on his hip while the other fiddled with the hem of his tunic. His eyes locked on the observation post, Thrawn afforded himself a single glance.
Seeming to sense Thrawn’s movement, Eli locked eyes with Thrawn, eyebrows raising slightly as if to bitterly ask ‘really?’. Now it really was too much. Turning away from it all, Thrawn excused himself, barely able to keep a walking pace. Locking himself in the hall refresher, he slid down the smooth door until he was sitting on the floor, arms wrapping around his legs.
He shuddered, breathing growing uneven and labored. There was a choice he’d need to make. And it needed to be made now. Thinking over the roster of humans present, he quickly decided to send Eli planetside the first chance he got with a different sort of human he needed gone, a nuisance.
There was no way he’d be able to trust himself around the human, not at this rate. And he could not jeopardize the mission. Steadying himself, Thrawn rose back to his feet, smoothing out his uniform and washing his hands for good measure. What was likely to be his last meeting with Eli, squandered. Such was his fate, to be at the mercy of the Ascendancy.
The only other option was exile, and that was worse than death, wasn’t it?