Chapter Text
You knew a storm was coming, you'd seen it build up for months. Eli Vanto was a human ticking time bomb and you had a feeling, deep down, that you were fated to be a collateral in that specific explosion.
'Breathe,' you said, 'I don't understand anything you're saying.'
'It's just all of them, all of them, being xenophobic, entitled, kriffing pricks, is what I'm saying,' Vanto ground out, slower, but with as much venom as in his speedier delivery.
He'd been ranting from the moment he sat across from you at the small bar of your open kitchen. The entire Blood Crow's crew was getting it, and the glass of fizz you'd placed in his hands had not slowed him one bit. You'd just watched him get redder in the face as he went along until you'd felt obliged to intervene.
'So let me get this straight,' you asked, knowing he wouldn't like what you were about to say. 'You're telling me that every last officer aboard your ship is disrespecting you because of Thrawn, and it's all entirely their fault, and Thrawn is perfectly innocent in all of this?'
Eli frowned, his freckled nose scrunching up in a petulant grimace. 'Thrawn gets the bulk of the disrespect. Since Rossi took over it's been nothing but harassment from her, and everyone else just slipped right back into their bad habits. Thrawn doesn't see half of it, and the other half, he just shrugs off. He's not getting respected the way he ought to be. It really isn't his fault.'
'Well, maybe you should enlighten him? He's gotten you into his business, dragging you around. Heck, he's already dragged you into one court martial. Maybe, you know, just maybe, he owes you his support?'
Eli snorted and gave you a long suffering look. 'I've tried. Hells, I really did.'
'And?'
'And he's just so patient... He nods away, and then decides to suffer silently through it. Expects me to do the same. Lead by example, yadeedah. What am I supposed to do? Whine?'
You rolled your eyes hard at him. He most certainly did whine, just not on the Blood Crow. Apparently he saved it all up for you.
If Eli were working in system for the admiralty, or doing local enforcement and kept regular quarters at the barracks, you could understand a little whining as a way to decompress. But Eli worked long distance, and Thrawn had a knack for making their work assignments crazier than their orders entailed. Eli was rarely on Corruscant. When he had enough RNR he usually left to see his family on Lysatra, to whom he probably depicted a happy and healthy life full of lothcat kittens and military parades. When his time off was too short to warrant the trip, he stayed at the admiralty, and occupied one of the temp rooms of your barrack unit.
You, as a high ranking engineer living on base, had the best lodging, with a private kitchen, a little lounge with an actual window looking over one of the pedestrian concourses, and a bed that could fit two people. Not that you were officially supposed to have people over, but to hells with that. Eli often crashed on your couch.
Sadly not so often that he could let the pressure out regularly. Hence he built it up and up, and today was explosion day. Luckily you'd known the Lysatran long enough to realise this from the moment he'd stepped through your door, rucksack bouncing on his hunched shoulders. You'd given him fizz and a shoulder to cry on as you prepared a little something for him. There were no signs so far that Eli was aware of what you'd ordered, he was that badly affected.
'I've been telling you to ask for a different post each time you trot your complaints in front of me Eli, are you expecting something different from me today?' You asked, an eyebrow cocked and your arms akimbo. 'I don't think weapons officers should have ensigns. That's just another weapons officer with a lesser pay. Come work for me though. I could use an ensign too, except you'd be putting your mind to work and the position pays three times more, easily.'
'Since when are you able to hand out jobs?' Eli asked.
You only sighed. There was no meaning in insisting, you knew the arguments he would raise, and they were good ones. The fact that he'd been appointed to Thrawn and that the Chiss was in the Emperor's direct favour was actually an excellent point. Besides, you could only recommend people for transfers and little else, so yes, two points in Eli's favour.
'Look,' you said, reaching across the counter to grab Eli's wrist. 'I like you, you know that right? I care for you, really. It saddens me to see you this rattled. Each time you're back the stories get worse. You get worse.'
He looked up at you, weary brown eyes peaking from under a tousled mess of dark umber hair.
'I know you care,' he said, voice now as weary as his gaze. He sighed like a little bit of his soul was escaping him with it. 'I know you want what's best for me, you've been so supportive ever since I moved in and... Yeah just, thanks. Means a lot.'
'I'm not saying that so you can thank me, Eli,' you replied, and as a chime came from your comm: 'Though I suppose you'll have good enough reason for that in a minute.'
He cocked his head, curious, hair tumbling. You let out a little laugh. He needed a haircut. He was becoming too cute to fit military standards. No bother, you could give him a trim tomorrow. For now however... You made your way out of your quarters, into the communal corridor and to the barracks' door. A delivery droid that was an unrecognisable hack job of random parts hovered there, pulling your order on a hoverpad behind it.
'That's very timely of you,' you complimented the droid, collecting your bag. 'I'll add this tip for how prompt you were, get yourself some nice quality servicing with it or something.'
You left 'You need it' unsaid. Droids might not be sentient, but it didn't seem too hard to hurt their feelings. The little guy flew away with a happy trill and you made your way back to Vanto.
He had his chin in his hand, lips pouty, eyes glazed with a far-away look. The smell that wafted from your package immediately called him back to reality. He stood up straight, head snapping towards you.
'No way you didn't–'
'You're a damned blood hound Vanto,' you drawled in a poor imitation of his wildspace twang. 'I haven't gotten two steps in the room.'
'You really did?'
And suddenly he was more like a puppy blood hound, big eyed and overeager.
'I did, I even placed the order right in front of you, but you were busy painting Captain Rossi as a witch, you didn't notice.'
He looked sheepish for all of one minute, which was the time it took to unpack the food. You had ordered from Old Samben, the greasiest fast food joint in the entire quadrant, and a haunt of yours since Eli had introduced you to it. They made fried tubbers, fried pecor nuggest and thighs, fried chocmint (a desert that had made Eli cry the first time he'd eaten it and had revolted you beyond words), and a handful of other wild space delicacies with a twist: every last damn thing was deep fried, and sometimes twice over.
Seeing the storm brewing on Eli's countenance, you'd ordered up the whole menu. Treating your friends to their favourite artery clogging junk food was a great way to spend your cushy engineer pay, you figured. You saved so much from living in the barracks, and besides, the look on Eli's face alone was worth it.
He sucked his fingers clean, contemplating the spread in front of you with hooded eyes.
'You're the best, you know that right?' He said, smiling up at you. 'This is exactly what I needed.'
You shrugged. 'I goull ginda tell—' you swallowed '—I could tell, Old Samben could cure you of anything.'
'So if I get shot, you think they should put me in a vat of Old Samben instead of a bacta tank?'
'Exactly. By the time you eat your way to the seal of the vat, you'd be cured.'
You shared a laugh and turned your attention back to the food, neither of you raised to let it grow cold. Finally, with a glow to him you weren't sure was happiness (it could be grease, no way to tell without touching, and if it wasn't grease, your fingers would change that promptly), Eli sighed contentedly. Only scraps remained on the counter between you, the rest spirited away behind distended imperial issue shirts.
'If this is you liking me,' he said dreamily, 'I wonder what it'd be like if you loved me.'
You choked on your drink. Eli's laugh barely registered under your cough and his hearty slaps on your back.