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Vurawn’s face was impassive as always, marked only by a small frown. Few would be able to tell he was upset.
Vurass was one of those few.
“You’re going away?” his little brother asked.
“Yes,” Vurass answered him levelly, matching his brother’s even tone. “I’ve been accepted as a merit-adoptive and will be moving to the homestead on Naporar.”
He watched Vurawn process that information.
“Naporar is where the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet is stationed,” the boy finally said.
“Yes,” Vurass confirmed. “I expect we’ll be together again quite soon.”
Vurawn nodded and looked out over the town’s icy harbor. He’d always been reserved, preferring to keep his thoughts to himself. Creative, impulsive, and emotional in his own way, Vurass mused, but personally restrained. It’s why he was saying goodbye here, on the docks, instead of in the Kivu family’s cramped apartment, where Vurass knew the memory of their sister still lingered, even if they never spoke of her. Perhaps because they never spoke of her.
“You’ll be fine,” Vurass broke out of his own thoughts. “You’re a genius, and you excel at your exercises at school. You’ll be line leader before you know it, and someone will notice. They’ll never leave someone like you behind.”
Vurawn didn’t answer.
Vurass sighed and stepped forward to lightly clasp his brother’s shoulder, still so much smaller than his own.
“We won’t be brothers anymore,” Vurawn broke the silence.
“It’s mostly a formality,” Vurass assured him. “I won’t be Kivu, but once you’re adopted, neither will you. We’ll be brothers again. It’s only a few years.”
Vurawn finally turned to look at him searchingly. Nodded once. Turned back to the cold sea.
Vurass gripped Vurawn’s shoulder one more time, then let the boy slip from his grasp. He had a transport to catch.
He’d always known Vurawn was meant for greater things than frozen Rentor. His brother was a genius, a mastermind since childhood. He could win any strategy game within an hour of learning it, had been directing his peers with battlefield tactics before some of them could read.
Vurass had had to work hard to excel, staying up late to study and calculating his every friendship, fighting for a place in the Junior Syndicure where he could get noticed by the right people and start building the connections to get Vurawn to where he should be. Where he deserved to be.
Now Vurass was taking his first steps up.
He’d made sure to catch the attention of all the right people. He couldn’t afford to impress just any family, with his brother’s career on the line. He’d asked around and made sure to stick with the military families, the ones with fleets and captains who went on to be admirals. He’d made his list, considered them all, weighed each against each other, and made his decision.
The Irizi Family would be perfect for his brother, Zirass knew.
*
Irizi’ras’safis cursed as his hand wavered, leaving a wobbly line where he needed a straight, clean slash. This was an important meeting, both for the Irizi and his career. Everything had to be perfect.
He snatched up another wipe and started over, steadying his wrist as he leaned in towards the mirror, dragging the eyeliner slowly across blue skin. It had to be perfect.
His comm beeped and he swore again, holding his face still through sheer force of will as he finished the eye and glanced at the chrono. Not late yet.
The comm beeped again, loudly, and he took a second to snatch it from the chair where it rested over his Junior Aristocra robes and flick on the speaker, tossing it onto the vanity and starting on the other eye.
“Irizi’ras’safis,” he answered.
“Zirass!” the unexpected voice caused his hand to twitch, smearing another mark over his eyelid. He mouthed a curse and snatched for the wipes, almost distracting him from the call.
But not quite.
“Vurawn? What?”
“It’s Thrawn,” his brother’s voice was clearly recognizable over the comm, though he hadn’t heard it in years. “I’ve been adopted by the Mitth.”
“I heard,” Zirass tried to keep the scowl out of his voice, and hopefully succeeded with sheer startlement at the call. He’d spent years getting the influence to point the Irizi towards Vurawn, only to be upstaged by some Mitth Aristocra. He was happy his brother was off Rentor, he was, but…
“They’re sponsoring me at the Academy,” Thrawn continued. “I’ve just arrived on Naporar. You’re still at the Irizi homestead here, right?”
“You’re not supposed to know about that,” Zirass reminded him, feeling his stomach sink. His chrono beeped the five-minute warning, and he hurriedly finished the last sweep over his eye.
“But I do,” Thrawn pointed out with his own brand of impeccable logic. “I have a free weekend in a few weeks. Will you be here?”
“Thrawn,” Zirass sighed, quickly shaking out his robes and doing a last check for stains or creases. Not that he had time to do anything about it if there were, but still.
“What is it?” Thrawn finally picked up on his tone.
“We can’t see each other,” Zirass gave up on being nice and told him bluntly. “You’re Mitth. I’m Irizi. We’re enemies, Thrawn.”
The comm was silent. Zirass finished throwing his robes on and started on the complicated knots of his sash, double-checking the mirror to make sure he hadn’t mussed his hair. If he wanted the Irizi to make a proper bid for his brother, he was going to need more pull than a Junior Aristocra. That meant climbing the ladder, and fast.
And making sure his and Thrawn’s relationship took backstage. Irizi frowned on nepotism outside of the family, and merit-adoptives who planned to stay with them were expected to completely disown their former families. He needed to make sure they didn’t think he was doing Thrawn a personal favor, or his reputation would be ruined, and all his plans with it. Especially now that Thrawn was Mitth, the Irizi’s long-time rival.
“You said we’d be brothers again. Once I was adopted,” Thrawn stated quietly from the still-open comm.
“Yes, I did. That was before you joined the Mitth,” Zirass started to explain. His chrono beeped more insistently. He had to go. “Look, I don’t have time right now. The Ruling Families are different than what we grew up with. You’ll understand. Just, don’t call again, ok?”
“Very well. I shall respect your wishes,” Thrawn replied and clicked off.
There was something wrong with Thrawn’s tone, but Zirass didn’t have time for his little brother’s eccentricities. Thrawn was a genius. He’d do amazing at the Academy, and in the military. The Irizi would be fools to give up on him.
Zirass was the weak link here. He wasn’t anywhere near as brilliant as his brother, he’d had to struggle for every step he climbed, and the ice was slick beneath his feet. He still had to get the Irizi to recognize Thrawn’s value and make him a better offer than the Mitth, without revealing his own personal interest in the matter, or it was all over. This would take every bit of subtlety and tact he’d managed to collect and probably quite a bit more. He couldn’t afford any slips.
His brother would just have to wait a little longer. Zirass could explain everything once they were family again.
*
Ziara sighed and placed her empty glass on a tray. She hated these parties, but the Irizi insisted on showing off their crop of cadets every chance they could get. The Defense Force was what they were known for, after all, and they weren’t giving up any of their influence without a fight. Especially with the Mitth sniffing around.
She loitered unobtrusively by a delicately carved column, admiring the shifting lights of the floor panels. The politics may be annoying, but at least the Irizi could always be relied on put on a good show. And they’d certainly been pulling out the stops recently. The food, at least, was a nice change from Academy rations.
Scanning the crowd for anyone else she needed to talk to before finally escaping for the night, she noticed an Aristocra hovering nearby. Young for the position, she noted, but doing a decent job of hiding his interest. Not good enough, though, especially after she’d had situational awareness drilled into her by years of military training.
Seeing her looking over, the Aristocra took the opportunity to approach. “Cadet Irizi’ar’alani?”
“I am she,” Ziara responded coolly.
“I am Aristocra Irizi’ras’safis. I greet you,” he said formally. “How is the Academy?”
“It is well,” she answered, just as formal. “How is the homestead?”
“It is well,” he replied, looking a little startled to be asked. “Have you friends?”
“I am not at the Academy to make friends,” she points out. Then, at his slightly put-out look, “I have made allies.”
Zirass’s expression cleared as he nodded, an almost wistful smile appearing for a moment before smoothing over. “Any of interest?”
Ziara eyed him, trying to get a read on what the Aristocra wanted. He was clearly after something if he was making small talk with a cadet; he should be chatting up the syndics, trying to better his own position.
“None of note to the Irizi,” she settled on saying. “I will, of course, keep the family informed.”
“Of course,” he agreed, then paused.
“Is there something else?” she asked, hoping against hope he would get to the point.
To her surprise, he did. Start to, at least. “Forgive my intrusion, Cadet Irizi’ar’alani, but I had hoped you could be of some assistance. As you have likely heard, the Irizi’s place in the Defense Force has begun to be challenged.”
He paused.
“So some say,” she hedged. The Irizi’s influence over the military… well, she was Irizi. What was good for her family was good for her.
But the Defense Force was for all the Ascendancy, not one family.
“Quite,” the Aristocra continued. “As such, I… and others… have been keeping an eye on a number of cadets who may prove of interest to the Irizi in the future. After all, we can provide much more support in the realm of the military than most other families.”
“Of course,” Ziara agreed politely, keeping her face neutral. Recruiting merit-adoptives was the duty of the Patriarch’s Office, not a newly-minted Aristocra.
It was probably a personal project. He wouldn’t be the first to try and impress his superiors by going above and beyond his basic duties. He clearly didn’t know much about the military, if he thought a cadet was going to be helpful, and obviously didn’t care about the Defense Force’s neutrality in family affairs, which was… not her concern. She was Blood, after all.
“We would appreciate another set of eyes,” he finished, deceptively casual. “Reports offer only a limited view of a person’s character. A second opinion, from someone who has seen them both at their best and worst, as an equal, would be valuable.”
“I see,” Ziara said, noncommittally. Definitely a personal project, Irizi’ras’safis was far too eager for this to be someone else’s dream. “Did you have anyone specific in mind?”
“One or two,” he admits. “There’s one in particular with great potential.”
“Do they have a name?” Ziara asked dryly. “I don’t know everyone, but if we cross paths, I can keep you informed, Aristocra.”
“Please, call me Zirass,” he answered earnestly. “His name is Mitth’raw’nuru, and I believe he’ll be a great asset to the Irizi.”
*
“General, I wanted to thank you again for coming,” Ziara matched her steps to General Ba’kif’s longer strides.
“Of course,” the older man replied. “I’m glad you called. Today’s exercise was very interesting, don’t you think?”
“Quite,” Ziara replied, thinking back to the battle. And the panel. And Cadet Thrawn.
She’d eventually decided to notify Syndic Zirass, when she’d caught the name on the attendance sheet. He’d been so earnest in their messages that she figured it wouldn’t cause any harm, at least, and could get an Aristocra on her side. Or Thrawn’s.
He’d been very excited to hear about Thrawn’s impressive coursework. The cheating accusation had definitely upset him, too. He’d seemed almost affronted, somehow.
“What did you notice?” Ba’kif asked.
Ziara frowned, reviewing the day. Thrawn’s tactics had been impressive, certainly, but that answer was too obvious.
“The board didn’t believe Cadet Mitth’raw’nuru when he explained his tactics,” she reasoned slowly, “even though he spoke the truth. Even with an explanation, and the fact that the cadet had no motive to cheat, they considered only the simple answer.”
“Indeed,” the General smiled approvingly. “While it is true that often the simplest explanation is correct, one should not ignore evidence or instinct that points towards the more complex answer. And one must consider which answer is, indeed, simpler – that an upstanding young cadet would risk his place by cheating, or that he would attempt a new strategy and succeed?”
“An excellent point, General,” Ziara agreed thoughtfully. “I will keep this lesson in mind.”
“See that you do,” the general answered. “Now, I believe you have a question for me?”
Ziara took a deep breath. He was right, of course. She hadn’t had to walk him back to the shuttle, and most cadets would be back to their studies after such a long, wasted day.
Well, not wasted, but the lessons she learned today were not ones that would help her pass her classes.
“Yes, sir,” she began. “I called you this morning because I recalled some rumors of how Cadet Mitth’raw’nuru had arrived at the Academy, and these let me to believe that you would be willing to assist in this matter.”
“And your question?” Ba’kif deflected, neither confirming nor denying.
Ziara thought back to her conversation with Zirass, and their messages since. She thought of Thrawn’s unorthodox but brilliant tactics with the patrol craft, his stiff face as he sat before the panel. The empty seat where the Mitth spokesperson should have sat.
“Why Mitth?” she finally asked bluntly. “The Irizi have the greater military interest. We would have taken him in, and supported him through training.”
“The Defense Force is for the Ascendancy, not any one family,” Ba’kif pointed out mildly. “Why do you think someone might have alerted the Mitth and not the Irizi?”
“Because the Irizi have the greater military power,” Ziara answered, “and the Defense Force is for the Ascendancy, not any one family.”
“Perhaps,” Ba’kif answered evenly. “Would you disagree?”
“Perhaps not,” Ziara replied softly. She was Blood of the Irizi, and what was good for the Irizi was good for her. But there was a reason flag rank officers left their families. If she ever got that far, she would, too.
Ba’kif nodded, and they finished their walk to the shuttle pad in silence. He couldn’t confirm or deny anything, of course. A Supreme General throwing his weight behind a family, even over something as small as a single merit-adoptive, would disrupt the delicate political balance of the Nine Families and the Defense Force. At the least, his reputation – and career – would be ruined.
She doubted Zirass would understand. He’d never seemed overly concerned with the military’s vaunted neutrality, focused only on improving the Irizi’s standing. And Thrawn.
No, she’d keep this conversation to herself.
*
Zirass set aside his reports for the day. He had forgotten how much of a problem little brothers could be.
Thrawn was, of course, doing amazing in the CEDF. He’d been promoted an entire two ranks after the Lioaoin pirate incident, nearly unheard of in the Defense Force. Of course, he’d probably never know how close he’d come to a court-martial as his superiors debated whether or not deliberately baiting the pirates counted as a preemptive strike.
It had turned out in Thrawn’s favor – after all, the pirates had attacked first, Thrawn’s mission was simply one of identifying the culprits – but it had been closer than Zirass would have liked. Or expected, considering Thrawn’s place in the Mitth.
There was something… off, there, Zirass mused as he packed up his desk. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it – but it was past midnight, and the words on the questis were starting to blur. He’d sleep on it, and re-read the reports tomorrow.
Keeping his brother out of trouble was going to be harder than he’d thought. Much harder.
But he couldn’t fail. Thrawn might be just a rising star now, but he would be key to ensuring the future safety of the Ascendancy. Zirass knew it in his bones.
More than that, Thrawn was his brother. And Zirass had promised to keep them together.
He sighed as he finished packing his carry-bag and headed for the door. Personally, he appreciated Csilla duty, although he knew many of his colleagues hated living on the frozen planet. But while underground, he got to stay at an apartment a mere five-minute walk from the office, and while on surface-shift he got to enjoy the beauty of the glittering ice and snow. Perhaps it was the Rentor in him.
Ziara, at least, seemed to be looking out for Thrawn, Zirass considered as he headed back to his apartment. From all reports, she seemed to be firmly in his corner and had been the commander of Thrawn’s pirate hunt. She clearly recognized his brilliance and, from her conversations with Zirass, not only trusted Thrawn’s genius but also kept an eye out for where his flaws would trip him up. With Thrawn serving as her third officer, Zirass was confident she would look out for his little brother where he couldn’t.
He’d wondered if Thrawn would try to contact him; Ziara, as an Irizi and his commanding officer, would be the perfect cover to finally get back in touch. But no messages had come through, and Ziara showed no indication of knowing about their connection. It was just as well, Zirass supposed. He’d finally started making serious headway in getting Thrawn noticed by the right people, and it wouldn’t do to jeopardize that now.
Thrawn had never been so cautious before, but it had been years since Zirass had spoken to him. For all he knew, Ziara and life had finally gotten him to reign in that calculated impulsiveness that had given their parents so many grey hairs. Although the pirate incident certainly spoke of Thrawn’s brand of recklessness.
Letting himself into the apartment, Zirass allowed himself a small frown as he tried to think back on his last contact with his brother. It would have had to have been that disastrous conversation so many years ago, when Thrawn had first been adopted by the Mitth. He’d been rushed, he remembered; with Thrawn snatched up by the Mitth and all his work to get the Irizi interested, Zirass had barely had time to breath. Not that that had changed.
But he’d made Aristocra and passed the Trials, at least. His position was not quite so precarious, although his work to recruit Thrawn remained tenuous.
Frowning, Zirass settled on his couch and pulled out his comm, trying to remember what he’d said to Thrawn. The logs were long gone, but thinking back…
He’d had to remind Thrawn that he wasn’t supposed to know about the location of the Irizi homestead, he remembered. He’d tried to explain the family rivalry and told Thrawn they couldn’t talk, not with his standing so fragile at the time.
He’d assumed Thrawn would understand. His brother was a genius, and while the family rivalries may be complex in their details, they were really quite simple in concept. The Irizi and Mitth were bitter rivals. As a new merit-adoptive at the time, he couldn’t afford to show any signs of disloyalty. Meeting with a Mitth, especially one he wasn’t supposed to have any legitimate connection to, could easily be construed as sabotage. After all, he’d already let slip one family secret to Thrawn before he’d even made it to the Irizi homestead – who knows what else he could have passed along?
Zirass sighed, kicking off his shoes and outer robe to lay down on the couch. Despite being mainly decorative, it was really quite comfortable, especially after a long day. He rubbed his burning eyes, blinking away the spots from staring at questis screens, and felt exhaustion set in. Ziara had mentioned Thrawn had trouble with politics, but he couldn’t possibly miss something so obvious. Ziara could explain the details. Perhaps he could message her. In the morning.
Besides, Thrawn had to know Zirass would always be in his corner. He’d promised, after all.
*
“Ah, I greet you, Syndic Zirass. Please, take a seat.”
Zirass lightly closed the door behind him and headed for the chair across from the desk. Like many of the offices for higher-ranked Irizi syndics, it was just slightly larger than necessary, with imposing ceilings that echoed back every step on the polished floor no matter how softly stepped.
“I greet you, Speaker Irizi’eva’naris,” Zirass greeted the older Chiss as he reached the desk. “You asked to speak with me?”
“I did,” Speaker Zi’evan eyed Zirass as he sat in the chair. “I’ve been reading through your proposal regarding Senior Commander Mitth’raw’nuru.”
“I see,” Zirass replied when she paused. He’d hardly dared hope, when the Speaker had asked for his proposal, after months of dropping more subtle hints in the right ears. It had seemed far more likely it was a simple bid to humor the newly promoted Syndic, but here they were.
“You focus quite heavily on his military genius,” the Speaker observed critically, “which is admittedly impressive. That being said,” she leaned back to watch Zirass’s reaction, “I am given to understand he’s rather… inept in the realm of politics.”
“That seems hardly relevant,” Zirass argued, choosing his words carefully, “considering that he is not only military but in the Expansionary Defense Fleet. He’ll be as far from politics as it is possible to be while still a citizen.”
“But as we both know, Syndic Zirass, politics reach all corners of Chiss society. Even the Fleet, however much they wish to stay separate. The chance that Commander Thrawn will someday embarrass his family is, some would argue, quite high.”
“I would disagree. Respectfully, Speaker,” Zirass replied coolly, his heart hammering in his chest. “While Commander Thrawn may not be the most politically savvy, he is also not so foolish as to make such a blunder. For one, he has his own allies to call on for counsel, many of whom I am given to understand are quite powerful, and will not lead him astray on either personal or family grounds.”
“Hm,” the Speaker looked back over her questis, silently reading through a few pages. Zirass stilled his fingers from their once-habitual fidgeting, a nervous habit he’d long since trained away.
“He also seems to have cultivated a habit of ignoring military protocol,” she casually observed, breaking the tense silence without looking up from her questis.
“Are you referring to the incident with the Lioaoin pirates? I understand that that issue was resolved. With a double promotion, no less,” Zirass added.
“Perhaps,” the Speaker raised an eyebrow. “In fact, I was referring to the incident with the Garwians.”
Zirass frowned. “I wasn’t aware there had been an incident with the Garwians.”
“Really? I understand he dragged the Parala halfway across the Chaos in the middle of the night for a Garwian distress call.”
“The Fleet is permitted to offer humanitarian aid after such battles,” Zirass tried. “Commander Thrawn did not violate protocols by moving to observe. And it did provide the opportunity to monitor both Lioaoin and Garwian tactics in case of future conflict.”
“Hm,” was the Speaker’s only response, as she went back to reviewing the questis. Zirass stilled his hands again and hoped she didn’t know Thrawn as well as he did. He, at least, had noticed the reported change in the Garwian’s tactics that had won them the day against the pirates. His brother had always hated standing by when he felt he could make a difference.
“Still,” Speaker Zi’evan once more broke the silence, “some might argue that these blunders of his may someday outweigh his successes.”
“Really?” Zirass didn’t try to hide his surprise. “Speaker, with all due respect, Thrawn’s successes speak for themselves. A few close calls with proper protocol hardly come close to shadowing his brilliance. Remember, for all that the Syndicure flapped their hands over the Lioaoin incident, he took out the entire pirate fleet with three ships. Three.”
“I believe the exercise was under the command of Mid Captain Irizi’ar’alani,” Speaker Zi’evan stated drily, “not Commander Thrawn.”
“We both know whose plan it was,” Zirass pushed. “If anything, that only speaks more to his ability.”
Zirass paused to take a breath. He couldn’t afford to drop his guard, here. The Speaker was watching him far too closely, and he knew a test when he was taking one.
“I would also point out,” he continued with less vehemence, “That indeed, Mid Captain Ziara was in command of the Lioaoin incident, which is what prompted her own promotion. To Senior Captain.”
“And?” she inquired.
“Despite Thrawn’s own family ties, he clearly works well with the Irizi,” Zirass picked his way through his next argument with all the care of his lifelong quest. “We are known for our strong ties to the military. Having Senior Commander Thrawn’s successes reflect on us will only strengthen our position. Furthermore,” he paused for a calculated breath, “it seems unlikely Senior Captain Ziara’s career will stall any time soon.”
The Speaker’s eyes flickered over Zirass’s face. He resisted the urge to hold his breath under the scrutiny, keeping his mask of calm in place. Even breaths. Relaxed shoulders. Cool face.
“An excellent point,” Speaker Zi’evan finally admitted. “And a very well-reasoned argument. Overall, an excellent proposal.”
“Speaker?” Zirass blinked.
“I happen to agree with you,” the Speaker stated bluntly. “But it’s important to make sure such things are done right. You’ve come a long way in the Irizi, Zirass; it’s been a pleasure to watch you improve.”
“I – thank you, Speaker,” Zirass stammered out.
“Your arguments here are clearly laid out and focus on the benefit to the Irizi without the appearance of bias in either direction. Truly, well done,” the woman quickly skimmed through the questis again before setting it down with a definite click. “I admit, we’ve been watching you carefully since you raised this idea.”
Zirass’s throat went dry. “Speaker?”
“Your records are sealed, of course, as are Thrawn’s, not that we’d have them anyway,” Speaker Zi’evan continued, seemingly oblivious to Zirass’s sudden anxiety. “But some of us have been around a bit too long for such things to be quite as effective. And there are those who have access to all of the Irizi records, sealed or not,” she added.
“Of course,” Zirass agreed through numb lips.
“As you can imagine, I’m sure, there were concerns,” the Speaker continued, “regarding your potential bias in this matter. But in light of our meeting today and our own inquiries, I believe it is safe to say that we will consider your proposal. You are a credit to the Irizi, Syndic Irizi’ras’safis,” the Speaker concluded with a warm smile.
“Thank you, Speaker,” Zirass suppressed a sigh of relief even as he took the warning to heart. “As always, my first and only duty is to the Irizi.”
*
“Well, Syndic Zirass, I have to thank you for giving us a head start,” Speaker Zi’evan began as soon as they were seated in her office.
“Thank you, Speaker,” he replied, with all the calm he could manage over bubbling excitement. “I am grateful to have been of use to the Irizi.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Speaker Zi’evan warned. “Remember, the Boadil and the Ufsa are our allies, and they’re not particularly happy with Senior Commander Mitth’raw’nuru. We have plenty of ruffled feathers to smooth over before we’ll be in a position to make an offer.”
“But the upset should blow over quickly,” Zirass pointed out. “After all, he did save the liner, and 8,000 people with it. Including our own Aristocra.”
“Very true,” the Speaker agreed. “Nonetheless, it will take a few weeks at least for the Ufsa to deal with their captain to the Boadil’s satisfaction, and until then Thrawn will remain their scapegoat. We can’t openly court someone who cost the Boadil so many millions until then, no matter how spectacular the rescue.”
“Of course, Speaker,” Zirass settled with saying.
“But that gives us some time to draft our arguments, both for Thrawn, and for the rest of the Patriarch’s office,” Zi’evan continued. “We’d appreciate your thoughts on what approach would be best for Thrawn himself. To detach from another family, even one that has not been particularly supportive, is no small thing.”
“Indeed,” Zirass mused. “I expect – from what I’ve heard of the man – he’d appreciate a tactical perspective. Several of the Mitth have been almost openly disdainful of him; the Irizi could offer stronger family support, for instance.” Zirass paused for a moment. This might be going too far… but Thrawn’s rescue had been impressive. And with the Irizi’s military presence waning and the upcoming promotions…
“For one thing,” Zirass offered cautiously, “with the Mitth, he is only a merit-adoptive, and shows no interest in taking time out of his duties to study for or pass the Trials. His position, therefore, remains tenuous; if he were to lose his commission, perhaps to the machinations of those who have made little secret of their opposition to his place in the family, he would be returned to the ranks of common families. A devastating blow, to one who has fought so hard to defend the Ascendancy.”
“A devastating blow indeed,” the Speaker eyed Zirass contemplatively. “And you think the Irizi could offer better?”
“Of course, Speaker,” Zirass continued. “After all, the most dangerous of his detractors are among the Mitth; the Irizi would have no such issues.”
“And,” Speaker Zi’evan added drily, “the Irizi could, perhaps, offer him a stronger position. Trial-Born, perhaps?”
“Speaker Zi’evan!” Zirass practiced his surprise. “That’s an incredible step. I’m sure it would make for an offer even Thrawn couldn’t refuse, but would the Patriarch’s Office even agree to it?”
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” the Speaker responded airily. She picked up the questis from where it had sat on the corner of her desk and held it out to Zirass. “I want your proposal on my desk by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Mine?” Zirass took the questis, hands steady through years of practice. “You want me to write it?”
“Yours,” Speaker Zi’evan confirmed, already pulling up her own questis in a clear dismissal. “You’re an eloquent syndic, Zirass, and you’ve taken point on this project long before it was within our sights. I trust you’ll have the best interests of the Irizi at heart.”
“Of course, Speaker. Thank you,” Zirass stood and bowed, then headed for the door. He had much to do if he wanted to finish a full proposal – for an offer of Trial-Born! – by tomorrow.
Zirass took a deep breath. It was everything he had hoped for. Finally bringing his brother back into the family, keeping his promise after all these long, fruitless years.
Wandering the homestead, he began ordering his thoughts, always his first step. He had the proposal he had shared with the Speaker’s Office, which could serve as the foundation of this next draft. He’d have to add the most recent events and check in on the current gossip; the hearing had ended just that morning, and the rumor mills and, thus, the court of public opinion, would have only just begun to spin. He’d have his own comments to add to the mix as well, to make sure it turned in the right direction…
As he always did when he needed to think, Zirass turned his feet towards the Irizi’s impressive art gallery. There was nothing like perusing the paintings and sculptures to focus his thoughts on his genius little brother.
He was deep in his questis by the time he reached the right hallway and turned into the gallery without bothering to look up, letting his feet carry him through the familiar rooms. He paused as he heard voices ahead, echoing through the often-deserted rooms.
Turning a corner, Zirass was brought to an abrupt halt as the absolute last person he’d expected to see at the Irizi homestead looked away from the elegant painting hanging on the wall to meet his eyes.
Senior Commander Thrawn blinked back.
Zirass was so shocked it took him a full second to notice Senior Captain Ziara standing at Thrawn’s side. Of course – she had attended the hearing as well and would have returned to the homestead afterward.
Which didn’t explain why she’d brought Thrawn with her.
“Syndic Irizi’ras’safis,” Ziara greeted him coolly, stepping between him and Thrawn. When had his brother gotten so tall?
“Senior Captain Ziara,” he greeted back, distracted. “An – unexpected pleasure.”
“Unexpected?” she asked back. “This is my uncle’s gallery. I visit often.”
“Of course,” Zirass tried to catch his footing. “Your pardon. And – Senior Commander Thrawn, I believe?”
“Mitth’raw’nuru,” Ziara corrected. “Senior Commander, this is Syndic Irizi’ras’safis.”
Zirass blinked again at her insistence on offering Thrawn’s full name, surely unnecessary. Only the most formal events used them in place of a core name, and as a syndic, it was hardly a faux pas for him to skip the full introduction.
“Syndic Irizi’ras’safis,” Thrawn greeted formally. Zirass tried to think of something to say.
“Senior Commander,” he started, marshaling his thoughts, “my congratulations on the incident with the liner. I understand you handled it with surprising ingenuity.”
“Surprising?” Ziara pounced. “It was hardly a complex affair. Thrawn did what was necessary.”
“Of course,” Zirass stumbled at her hostility.
“Is not Irizi allied with the Ufsa and Boadil?” Thrawn asked mildly. “I would have thought you would be more upset at the insult to your allies.”
“I – there are certainly some ruffled feathers,” Zirass answered, “but there was, after all, an Irizi Aristrocra on board. You saved their life, and the lives of the other passengers. In the face of your heroism, the liner itself is a small price to pay.”
“As Senior Captain Ziara has said,” Thrawn replied, “I did only what was necessary.”
“For the good of the Ascendancy,” Ziara added.
“I would expect nothing less from a warrior of your caliber,” Zirass offered. When had his brother gotten so stiff? They’d used to talk for hours, Vurawn throwing out question after question that Vurass had carefully answered, each in turn. Even the silences had been comfortable; now, you could cut the tension with a knife.
What had gone wrong?
Zirass searched for something else to say. This was the first time he’d seen in brother in years, and even with the end of their separation in sight, he found he couldn’t turn away from the proud warrior in front of him.
Thrawn had grown so much. He wondered what he thought of Zirass, if Zirass had changed as well.
But the end was in sight. As long as Zirass didn’t slip up. A final test.
“I understand you are interested in art, Senior Commander,” he took his shelter behind the offered formality. “I hope you are enjoying the gallery?”
“It is quite impressive,” Thrawn replied, turning back to the painting. A landscape, the view from a cliff overlooking the sea, a ship caught in a far-off storm, Zirass noted. Thrawn didn’t elaborate.
Zirass paused, hoping to draw out his brother’s thoughts. Vurawn used to talk for hours about paintings, sculptures, whatever piece had caught his eye; it was the one certain method Vurass had for getting his brother talking when he was in a mood.
Not anymore, it would seem, as the seconds ticked by.
Thrawn’s eyes flicked over the painting, catching on tiny details Zirass was sure he was missing. Ziara remained standing between them, also turned to the painting, but with eyes narrowed and still, a slight frown upon her face. Zirass turned his gaze on it as well, fighting the urge to drink in the sight of his brother for another few seconds.
Soon. Soon they’d be together. A few weeks at most.
“We don’t wish to keep you, Syndic,” Ziara broke in abruptly. “I’m sure you’re very busy.”
“Oh. Of course,” Zirass startled at the dismissal. As much as he wanted to talk with Thrawn, it was clear this wasn’t the place or time, and he was out of excuses to drag out the conversation. Not to mention he had a proposal to write. A very, very important proposal. “Senior Captain Ziara. Senior Commander Thrawn, it was an honor to meet you in person.”
“Syndic,” Thrawn offered levelly, eyes on the painting.
With one last nod to Ziara, and glance to his brother’s profile – that of a warrior – Zirass turned aside and left. He had work to do.
*
Now-Commodore Ar’alani hummed as she thought over Thrawn’s question at the party. As of today, she was no longer of the Irizi; she no longer had a stake, or a duty, or a hand in their political power grabs. For better or worse.
The offer for Thrawn to join the Irizi, as a Trial-Born, even, was not entirely unexpected. After all, he’d had a round of stunning successes, and Syndic Zirass, at least, had been gunning for him for years. She’s sure he must be ecstatic to see all his hard work pay off.
As to whether the Irizi would be a better family for Thrawn…
The Mitth certainly had at least a few members disgruntled with his placement, but whether they had enough power to oust him, she had no way of knowing. The Irizi, on the other hand…
She thought back to the meeting with Syndic Zirass in the gallery a few weeks back. He’d been startled to see a Mitth at the homestead, that was clear; his conversation had been painfully stiff, even as he’d offered extravagant praise to Thrawn. Trying to hide his distaste? She didn’t know the man well enough to say; most of their conversations, such as they were, were over questis. He’d certainly barely looked at her while Thrawn was in the room.
It was unfortunate. She’d wondered, at times, if they could be friends; he had a frankness unusual for most politicians, in her experience, and glimmerings of a tactical mind. His clear admiration of Thrawn had helped her feel a lot better about her friend’s chances in the political realm, with at least one syndic in his corner. She’d hoped, if Syndic Zirass couldn’t be a friend, he could at least be an ally.
Thrawn had remarked afterwards at how cold Zirass had been, at the gallery. He’d seemed disquieted – worried for her status with the family, having introduced an outsider? Concerned over his unorthodox invitation to the Irizi homestead? Reminded that, politically, he was in enemy territory? He hadn’t elaborated. But it was clear Zirass only cared about Thrawn for the Irizi, and not for, well, Thrawn. Now that she was no longer with the family, she was unlikely to encounter the syndic again.
Just as well, considering she was about to destroy his chances of getting to Thrawn forever.
*
“He refused.”
“What?” Zirass blurted in shock. “He refused? Why? How?”
“I don’t know,” Aristocra Zistalmu sneered. “At the very least, he hasn’t accepted. And it’s been nearly a week.”
Zirass went to speak and found he had nothing to say. He took a deep breath and smoothed his face. “What exactly did he say?”
“Only that he had to think on it before making a decision. Which for him, is obviously a refusal. Especially after he had time to check with his allies with more sense.”
Zirass took another breath, this one to deal with the Aristocra. Older than him, but lower ranked; he’d have to handle this delicately to avoid making an enemy, but after his early promotion, he’d had lots of practice.
“I see,” he started, giving himself time to think. “Well. Thank you for your efforts, Aristocra Zistalmu. I’m sure your work was perfect, as usual; it’s hardly your fault if the man couldn’t see sense.”
“Certainly,” Zistalmu grumbled. “Thank you, Syndic.”
Zirass paused at the grudging, nearly rude remark, wondering what Zistalmu’s problem was. The rudeness towards him, a too-young syndic, he was used to; the disdain towards Thrawn…
A problem for another day. Today, he had other fires to put out.
What was Thrawn thinking?
He bid an absent farewell to Zistalmu as he headed for his office. Why would Thrawn refuse his offer? He’d spent years working to get Thrawn into the Irizi so they could be family again. And now Thrawn had given up that chance.
Zirass closed the door behind him, and, after a pause, locked it. There wasn’t anything else on his schedule for the day, and he didn’t want to be disturbed.
What had gone wrong?
The last he’d seen Thrawn was at the gallery. It had been awkward, painfully so. Ziara, who he’d thought to be a friend and ally, had even physically separated them; Thrawn had refused to speak with him more than basic pleasantries.
Thrawn clearly hated him, Zirass decided. Why wouldn’t he? Zirass’s promise had been made so long ago, to a boy who was now a powerful warrior; he himself was hardly the naïve merit-adoptive he’d been when he left Rentor. When he abandoned his family.
He’d promised they’d be together, always. He’s promised they’d be family, always, and then what? He’d run off to the Irizi, left little Vurawn behind. He’d been too slow, too stupid, too weak, and then Vurawn was gone, Thrawn the warrior left in his place. Thrawn the warrior, Thrawn the genius, who hardly needed an idiot brother hanging around. Zirass had always been slow. It had only taken him years to realize how much his brother must despise him. How greatly he had failed.
Zirass took a shuddering breath where he stood, directionless, in the middle of his office. Fighting back tears unbecoming of a Syndic, he carefully sat behind his desk, gently placing his questis precisely squared in front of him.
Thrawn was enormously successful, in the Mitth. He didn’t need Zirass’s help, had never needed Zirass’s help, with the Academy and the Defense Force or anything else.
But his position with the Mitth was still precarious, his position with the fleet dependent on his standing, and he was still shit at politics.
Thrawn might not want anything to do with his estranged brother, but Zirass was hardly going to give up now. He may never be Thrawn’s family again, legally, but he would always be an older brother, and he would look out for his family – ALL of his family – as much as he could.
Whether Thrawn liked it or not.
*
“A recruitment offer of merit-adoptive is one thing. A recruitment offer of Trial-Born is another,” Thurfian interjected, frowning as the quiet hum of the March of Silence flowed around them. “Someone must have looked into his record, and decided that Thrawn would be an asset, not a detriment to the Irizi.”
Zistalmu frowned himself. It was true, and the offer of Trial-Born had surprised him as well, especially after his own look into Thrawn’s record. It could just be an attempt to steal him from the Mitth, but…
“There’s a syndic,” he recalled. “Syndic Irizi’ras’safis. He wrote both proposals for Thrawn’s recruitment; the official one submitted to the Patriarch’s office after the hearing about the liner, and the original, submitted after the Lioaoin incident.”
“As far back as that?” he seemed to have caught Thurfian by surprise.
“Why not?” Zistalmu jumped to defend his family. “He is an impressive commander, and destroying an entire pirate fleet with a mere three ships is no small feat, even with now-Commodore Ar’alani in command.”
“Nonetheless,” Thurfian waved aside Thrawn’s exploits, “he may have gained some recognition, but hardly enough to prompt the Irizi to make the effort to steal him from the Mitth, at that point. Unless your recruitment strategy is wildly different from ours. Why was Syndic Zirass even looking into it?”
Zistalmu tried to think back to the few interactions he’d had with the young man. “It’s some sort of personal project, I think. He’s not the first to try and get a leg up doing extra work. He’s young, for a syndic, so it must have worked out for him. The Speaker certainly supported it, if it made it to the Patriarch’s Office.”
“Hm. Rather high-reaching for a personal project. Especially for a new syndic,” Thurfian mused.
“Thrawn has been highly successful,” Zistalmu grudgingly admitted. “Especially for someone so young, who may be willing to take more risks, he could be an alluring asset. There remains a reasonable chance for glory to his family.”
“Still. Something to think on,” Thurfian moved on. “As for our own plans for Thrawn, here is what I propose…”
*
“Just as well,” Syndic Irizi’ila’ranu muttered as they milled about the entrance to the hearing chamber.
“Just as well what?” Zirass fought to keep his tone even, the day’s stress starting to catch up.
“Just as well Senior Commander Thrawn never accepted the Irizi offer. Otherwise, this would be our problem,” Zi’ilar elaborated, eyes on the doors to the hearing chamber.
Fortunately, they opened before Zirass had to formulate a reply. It had been so many, many years since he and Thrawn had been brothers; with the retirement of Speaker Zi’evan, there was probably no one left in the Irizi who remembered they’d once been family.
It had been so long, Zirass wondered if he remembered how to be a brother. Their last conversation had been a disaster, after all.
Zirass took his seat as attending syndic for the Irizi as the other syndics, observing and attending, did the same around the semi-circle overlooking the Defense Force tribunal. The five representatives of the Defense Force were already seated at the bar in front, while the central dais and witness stand remained empty. For now.
General Ba’kif was here, he noted with some relief, as was Admiral Ja’fosk. He knew less about the other admirals, but at least those two had defended Thrawn before. He was sure Commodore Ar’alani would stand witness. As the only witness to the incident on Solitair, the only question was what, exactly, she would decide to say.
Thrawn hadn’t, in the end, broken protocol. According to his own admission, he had been asked and had refused. Ar’alani’s report had concurred. By all rights, they should never have been on Solitair, much less in the Garwian command center, when the Lioaoins attacked. But they had not, in the end, gotten involved. No matter how close it had come.
Thrawn would be fine, Zirass tried to convince himself. It would be fine.
The chamber settled down, the rustling of robes dying away as the various syndics found their seats. As a hush fell, the main double doors opened ponderously, and Thrawn was led in by two armed guards.
He took his place on the dais, bowed to the tribunal, bowed to the attending syndics, and so the court-martial began.
“Senior Commander Mitth’raw’nuru,” Admiral Ja’fosk announced. “You have been brought before this tribunal to discuss your actions on the planet Solitair, in connection to the Garwian-Lioaoin conflict. You have been accused of violating military protocol and the laws of the Ascendancy. Do you understand?”
“Admiral, I do,” Thrawn’s voice was clear and strong, his face blank.
“Then we will proceed with the charges. Senior Commander Mitth’raw’nuru, you are accused of violating the protocols prohibiting preemptive strikes, specifically regarding your presence in the Garwian command center on Solitair during the Lioaoin attack and the advice and assistance you offered to the Garwians during that attack. Do you understand the charges laid against you?”
“Admiral, I do,” Thrawn answered.
“In that case, we will proceed with a review of the incident. Senior Commander Mitth’raw’nuru, please explain your presence on Solitair.”
The questions were fairly straightforward, coming from the Defense Force, and Thrawn’s answered rarely strayed from information already available in the report. As the tribunal dragged on, Zirass could tell the syndics were growing restless; it was a common strategy to repeat questions in order to catch the accused in a lie but did make for tedious proceedings for everyone else. Thrawn remained inscrutable at this distance, his answers cool and calm.
Finally, the Admirals finished their questions for Thrawn and brought in the first witness. Commodore Ar’alani, of course, had also been on Solitair as Thrawn’s commanding officer. The questions were answered quickly and perfunctory, reinforcing Thrawn’s testimony, Ar’alani’s face revealing nothing.
There were a handful of other witnesses from the Destrama who were questioned on the travel to Solitair, first contact with the planet, loss of contact with Ar’alani and Thrawn, and reestablishing communications. Not being on the ground, the officers had little specifics to offer and were quickly dismissed to the sitting area.
Thrawn’s face never changed where he stood at ease on the defendant’s dais.
Zirass took a deep breath. Here it begins.
“The Defense Force will consider the testimony. Syndics,” and even Ja’fosk seemed unhappy, knowing what was to come, “if the Families have further questions, they may present them now.”
“Admirals! The Mitth Family has a question for the defendant,” the first voice rang out harshly against the murmurings of the attending syndics.
“The tribunal recognizes Syndic Thurfian,” Ja’fosk answered.
“Senior Commander Thrawn, we ask of you, what led the Garwians to target your supposed gifts? How did they know you might be of assistance in their fight?” Syndic Thurfian snapped.
Zirass frowned. Thurfian clearly disliked Thrawn; while Zirass knew Thrawn had his detractors among the Mitth, he also clearly had his supporters. For Thurfian to be standing here, as attending syndic for the Mitth, meant either the family had given up on Thrawn entirely… or Thurfian had burned some not-insignificant political favors to oppose Thrawn.
“Syndic of the Mitth, I could not say precisely why the Garwians would attempt to use me in their machinations,” Thrawn answered the question evenly. “There are several possibilities.”
“Please, elaborate,” Thurfian sneered.
“For one, my exploits against the Lioaoins, when they struck against the Ascendancy, are not unknown to the region,” Thrawn continued. “A Pathfinder was involved, and my scouting mission to the Lioaoin Regime was not quiet. It is likely that, if the Garwians had wished to know more of that campaign, my name would be quickly uncovered, as would my skill.”
“For another, they might perhaps remember you from the Parala, when you went running to their rescue?” Thurfian probed.
Zirass winced inwardly, mind racing. Thurfian clearly had it out for Thrawn, for whatever reason. With him as attending syndic for the Mitth, Thrawn would be getting no support from his family – support he very much needed, with all the politics of his contentious career coming into play.
This was going to be difficult.
“Doubtful,” Thrawn replied. “The Parala offered no assistance to the Garwians and did not respond to their hails. The Garwians would have no reason to learn the names of its officers, nor recall them after so much time has passed.”
“Admirals, the Irizi Family has a question for the defendant,” Zirass rose and declared in his best let’s-move-this-along tone.
“The tribunal recognizes Syndic Zirass,” Admiral Ja’fosk announced – with some relief, Zirass thought he detected.
“Senior Commander Thrawn,” Zirass struggled to keep his face smooth as he met his brother’s eyes for, once more, the first time in years. “Did you, at any point previous to receiving Security Chief Frangelic’s invitation, personally communicate with or reach out to the Garwians?”
“Syndic Zirass,” Thrawn hesitated for just a brief moment on his name, “I did not.”
“Senior Commander Thrawn,” Zirass made sure to speak the title clearly, “did you, at any point previous to receiving the invitation, direct, instruct, order, or ask anyone to communicate with the Garwians on your behalf?”
“Syndic Zirass, I did not.”
“Senior Commander Thrawn, is there any way the Garwians could have learned of your impressive tactical abilities or numerous successes against the Lioaoins and other threats to the Ascendancy from you directly or a member of your crew under your command?”
“Syndic Zirass, I can think of no way the Garwians would have learned of such from me or a warrior under my command,” Thrawn answered firmly, eyeing Zirass almost warily.
“Thank you, Senior Commander Thrawn, Admirals,” Zirass concluded politely and sat down.
“Admirals, the Obbic Family has a question for witness Commodore Ar’alani,” the Obbic syndic stood.
Zirass kept his face blank. Thurfian looked, well, busy glowering at Thrawn. But Obbic was allied to the Mitth. If Thurfian had gotten to their syndics as well… This was going to take every bit of political ability he’d fought to gain, and possibly then some.
“Commodore Ar’alani,” Zirass blinked back to the present as Ja’fosk finished and the syndic began, “Did Senior Commander Thrawn offer any tactical advice to the Garwians?”
“He did not,” Ar’alani’s voice brooked no argument.
“Did he answer any of their questions during the attack?”
“He did not.”
“Did he try to?”
Ar’alani paused. For not even a second, but it was there. “He did not.”
The syndic paused as well, his eyes resting heavily on Zirass’s former friend. “Commodore Ar’alani, you have served alongside Senior Commander Thrawn for many years, overseeing many of his victories… and missteps. In fact, I believe you were a proctor during his time at the Academy and knew him personally as a cadet.”
Ar’alani was silent.
“Commodore Ar’alani,” the syndic continued. “Are there any other witnesses to the events in the Garwian security center?”
“There are not,” Ar’alani answered clearly.
“Thank you, Commodore,” the syndic finished softly. “Admirals.”
“Admirals,” Zirass stood quickly, before another syndic could take the floor, “the Irizi family has a question for Commodore Ar’alani.”
Ar’alani had once been Irizi. It was perfectly expected for him to defend her, especially against such an accusation, unspoken or not, with all of the vehemence he could muster. And with his brother’s career at stake, that was quite a bit.
“The tribunal recognizes Syndic Zirass.”
“Commodore Ar’alani,” Zirass martialed his thoughts, and continued forcefully, “how long have you served the Ascendancy?”
She paused. Zirass dared to think he’d caught her by surprise.
“All of my life, Syndic.”
“Have you served with distinction?”
“Yes, Syndic.”
“Have you served with honor?”
“Yes, Syndic.”
“Is there anything in this galaxy that would cause you to doubt your honor, Commodore Ar’alani? Anyone in this galaxy who would challenge it? Any that might turn you aside?”
“No, Syndic,” she announced, loudly and clearly over the murmuring of the Syndicure. Threatening the honor of the Irizi – even a former Irizi – would not be born. Not with Zirass to challenge it.
“Thank you, Commodore Ar’alani,” Zirass replied, emphasizing her name and rank. “Thank you, Admirals.”
“Admirals, the Ufsa family has a question for the defendant,” the next syndic took his place. Ufsa, an Irizi ally. Zirass hadn’t arranged for a defense the way Thurfian had apparently arranged for an offence, but the Mitth had its own enemies, and Zirass his own allies, here.
“The tribunal recognizes Syndic Satorna.”
“Senior Commander Thrawn, what tactical information could you have offered to the Garwians, that they did not already have?”
Thrawn paused, thinking. “The Lioaoins have several tactical blind spots, which I identified after analyzing their artwork and ship design and confirmed during my mission against the pirates and my observations of their assaults on Garwian space. For one, they have a tendency to overcompensate when flanked, perhaps an overreaction to finding their enemies behind them, and overall tend to maneuver poorly against fast-moving opponents, leaving their vulnerabilities exposed. Against a solid blockade they do quite well, but against any faster-moving targets they lose precision and direction quickly.”
“And you say, Senior Commander, that you determined this through only their artwork and a handful of skirmishes?” the syndic asked.
“Yes, Syndic. Their artwork contains elements speaking to a forwardness of direction and momentum, emphasizing their straightforward mindset that bleeds into their tactics. The Lioaoins favor simple, full-on assaults, relying on high numbers and surprise attacks to overwhelm their opponents. Anything that turns them aside from that forward push will likewise confuse and disorient them, causing them to make mistakes that leave them vulnerable to counterattacks.”
“Thank you, Senior Commander, Admirals,” the Ufsa syndic finished, sounding reluctantly impressed. Zirass privately smirked; his brother was most certainly a genius, whatever else they said of him.
“The Mitth Family has a question for the defendant,” Thurfian’s voice interrupted Zirass’s thoughts.
“This tribunal,” Admiral Ja’fosk clearly enunciated each word in response to Thurfian’s discourtesy, “recognizes Syndic Thurfian.”
“Senior Commander Thrawn,” Thurfian rushed the title disparagingly, “Do you mean to tell this tribunal that you knew full well of the weaknesses of the Lioaoin pirates, who, as we well know, have in the past threatened the Ascendancy, and did not, even for a moment, so much as consider offering any hints to the Garwians?”
Zirass winced to himself and desperately hoped Thrawn had developed some sense of self-preservation since he’d last had to coach his little brother through explaining a broken vase to their parents.
“Syndic Thurfian,” Thrawn began, thoughtfully. “I most certainly gave the situation its full consideration, including the presence of Commodore Ar’alani and myself on Solitair. It is true that, had the Garwian defenses failed, we would likely be located within the combat zone. It is true that, in the past, the Lioaoin pirates have threatened the Ascendancy. However, it was clear that the Garwian defenses were sufficient to repel the Lioaoin attack, and that the time that the Lioaoins could threaten the Ascendancy is long gone with their sound defeat in the Kinoss system, and they would not dare move against us again. Their attack on the Garwians, therefore, was not an affair of the Chiss Ascendancy.”
“But did you want to help them?” Thurfian fired back. “They are, after all, respected merchants who deal with the Ascendancy.”
“What I want is irrelevant,” Thrawn blinked, seeming surprised at the question. “What matters is that I am a warrior of the Ascendancy. Our protocols dictate I could not intervene in the fight. Therefore, I did not.”
“You have come close to breaking protocol before,” Thurfian pointed out. “How can we know that you have not done so here? How can we know that you will not someday cross that line?”
“Syndic Thurfian,” Zirass interjects. Rudely, but so long as Ja’fosk allowed it… “We are not here to discuss some hypothetical future, nor compare every blight upon Senior Commander Thrawn to his impressive list of successes. We are here to determine if Senior Commander Thrawn has broken protocol during his time on Solitair. It is the Irizi’s opinion that Senior Commander Thrawn has answered this inquiry excellently, and that he has proven his innocence to our satisfaction. Furthermore, we find your questioning of previous events occurring under former Captain Irizi’ar’alani irrelevant and inappropriate, much less the Obbic’s questioning of the honor of one of our most highly decorated warriors of the Ascendancy. Thank you, Admirals.” He sat back down, sending one final glare to Thurfian and the Obbic syndic.
“The Chaf second the Irizi’s decision on this matter,” the Chaf syndic jumped in. Well, they had been currying favor with the Irizi lately.
“As does the Ufsa,” Syndic Satorna glared at the Chaf syndic for speaking first.
“The tribunal recognizes the syndics,” Admiral Ja’fosk interrupted before the infighting could escalate. “Thank you, Families, for your additional examination of the case. This court will now adjourn to discuss the verdict. Witnesses, you are dismissed; Senior Commander Thrawn, you will remain.”
“Admiral,” Thrawn bowed, as did the witnesses, filing out the side door. The syndics began to shuffle out as well, the babble of voices beginning to swell as the real fight began.
Zirass paused as he rose, looking down at his little brother. There remained much to be done; he had to rally his allies among the Irizi, check in with the Ufsa and Boadil, see if the Chaf could be courted. Ask around to see if the observing Mitth syndics agreed with Thurfian or could be swayed in Thrawn’s favor. The Boadil were known to have maintained some connections with the Mitth from their last alliance…
Thrawn’s testimony had been impressive; turning it to his tactical genius had done well to emphasize his service to the Ascendancy and reflecting Ar’alani’s highly respected and honorable service onto his actions had served to highlight his own dedication. With the right words in the right ears, Zirass was confident he could spin this to his little brother’s side; perhaps even push the Mitth into tying him closer to the family, where they’d have to back him or risk their own reputation. Or maybe Thrawn would elect to join the Irizi family after all; even Zirass’s unwanted presence couldn’t negate the political advantages he stood to gain.
But before he left to begin his own battle, Zirass paused to catch his brother’s eye. He didn’t know what he expected to see, each vague idea more distressing than the last. Hatred? Disappointment? Disregard?
Instead, Thrawn met his eyes squarely, his expression open. He looked surprised, perhaps even stunned. He looked… perhaps even pleased.
Zirass might even dare to believe he saw hope shining out of his brother’s eyes.
Perhaps his actions may speak for him where words had failed his family so miserably.
*
Greetings and Salutations to Senior Syndic Irizi’ras’safis:
In regards to your previous inquiries, no, there has not been word from Mid Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo since our last communication, which I have confirmed was, indeed, yesterday. As I have informed you, our communications with Picket Force Two occur at established intervals and when there is something of value to report. Your desperate need to stay in touch through the medium of an extremely busy Admiral with her own duties to attend to is not considered something of value to report, even for a recently promoted senior syndic. Congratulations.
Do not think I am unsympathetic. I stand by my decisions and the advice I have given, for the good of the Ascendancy, but I am glad you two have reconciled and that I could play a role in that, however small. Although I admit Thrawn’s sorry tale of family woe was certainly not what I was expecting to hear when he approached me after his court-martial, especially having only known you two to be at odds. It certainly makes your bizarre behavior much more understandable. And less disturbing.
Regardless, seeing as Thrawn has not seen fit to update either of us on his situation, I would suggest checking the latest report from Syndic Chaf’orm’bintrano, who has been overseeing the interests of the Fifth Ruling Family in the area. Apparently, your brother is back on his usual behavior and has allowed a group of humans to wander around his base in the interest of cultural exchange. It was, apparently, too much to hope for that his demotion would teach him anything useful.
More troubling is Chaf’orm’bintrano’s report that he has apparently seized a Vagaari pirate ship without, as the syndic sees it, legal cause. I’m sure there’s more to it than that – there always is, with your brother – but it’ll take more than my word to head off the inquiry. I’ve been directed to review the situation in person.
I did attempt to suggest your involvement, as the Irizi may be considered a ‘neutral’ family in this matter, but unfortunately, the Mitth were rather insistent on sending their own observer. Mitth’ali’astov seems to view Thrawn favorably, at least, though I haven’t had reasonable cause to speak with her at length on the subject.
You’ll just have to wait until Thrawn’s back from Crustai to see him again.
By the hand of Admiral Ar’alani of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet, Picket Force Six, Commander of the Destrama,
Best wishes.