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Eli lays flat on his stomach, rifle settled comfortably on his shoulder. This isn't a mission that is usually assigned to them, but between core world politics and Eli's marksmanship score, here they are, in the middle of a desert waiting for their target.
Thrawn, despite the heat, has been deadly still. Eli, who is used to the heat, has been letting his sweat drip in his eyes to refrain from any additional movement.
They've been here for hours. The target supposedly should be coming through this pass in a few hours but that means nothing. They could easily be here all night.
Thrawn peers through the binocs and subtly taps out coordinates on Eli’s elbow. He rotates the barrel and scope and peers down the pass. Sure enough, the rebel convoy is approaching. Eli takes a breath, steals himself.
Thrawn taps out the wind speed and trajectory along with the amount of convoys—something Eli can't see with his scope focused so closely.
Their orders had been clear: elimination, no survivors. Eli has always been squeamish about taking another’s life, it just doesn’t feel right. Even now, this far disconnected from the scene, his palms sweat with dread. But he has orders and—
He waits until the shot is lined up perfectly and, upon an exhale, he squeezes the trigger.
The rifle kicks into his shoulder and below the lead convoy swerves to the right, exploding on impact.
Eli lines up his next shot, sees the confusion in the pilot's face before he squeezes the trigger again and the front viewport is painted red.
One more. Eli lines up the shot. Beside him, Thrawn shoots up and fires off two quick rounds with his service pistol. An ambush. The first shot revealed their location, the second only guaranteed that a search party would find them.
Eli doesn't break his focus and instead fires the third round, sending the third convoy to join the others in a fiery end.
He sweeps his scope across the field of battle, determines there are no survivors and leaps up to join the fray behind him.
Except, Thrawn has already dispatched the ambushers.
"Thanks," Eli breathes, the first words he has spoken all day.
Thrawn nods. "Is the mission complete?"
"Yes, sir."
"I will hail a shuttle then. Let us find shelter until then.”
Eli pushes to his feet, slinging the rifle over his shoulder. “I think I saw a cave over here.”
Thrawn follows him, hailing a shuttle. They weave through the rocky terrain and throughout their entire journey, Eli can’t help but think they make a deadly pair. Few will ever know that, though. All they will see are two wild space yokels.
They arrive at the cave and they set about making camp. Thrawn wades deeper into the berth, searching for any local fauna that could give them trouble. Eli flutters around the mouth and entrance, gathering supplies for a fire if they are here past dark. Which, knowing command, they probably will be. Thrawn will probably be relieved when the temperature drops with the sun, Eli will be freezing like he always is.
When they have finished setting up camp, they each sit on one side of the cave, facing each other. It’s not very wide, with their legs extended, their boots nearly touch, but neither of them comment upon it or move to afford the other more space.
“Thanks for having my back there,” Eli murmurs, his voice carrying across the cavern.
Thrawn nods. “You did well.”
Eli scoffs. “If I can do anything well, I can shoot, sir.”
Thrawn smirks. “Your time on Lysatra nurtured this skill.”
“Something like that. There were always critters trying to get in our supplies. I never—”
“I see,” Thrawn says into the silence of Eli’s throat constricting.
He forces himself to exhale. It’s done. It’s over. He can’t go back and unkill those people.
“You did well,” Thrawn says again, speaking into his discomfort. “Their deaths were quick and painless. Over time, the feeling of guilt will wane.”
“Does it get easier?” he whispers, throat too tight to allow for any more volume.
“Killing people?”
“Yeah.”
“No,” Thrawn says and the direct answer nearly sends Eli’s head spinning. “As it should not.”
He doesn’t elaborate and Eli suspects he doesn’t need to. Chiss are warriors, killing is expected, but there is something to be said about the ease of taking a life. If it were easy, it would mean considering your opponent as less than, as nothing more than livestock heading to slaughter. Knowing that they’re not, knowing that they have opinions and thoughts that sway their beliefs and tactics means that they are something greater. It means knowing their death will have a ripple effect on the things they have touched.
Eli looks at Thrawn and wonders if the ripple effect of that preemptive strike is what landed him here now. Thrawn catches his gaze, his brilliant eyes shining in the waning light, and Eli decides it doesn't much matter.
They make a good team.