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Most days aboard the ISD Chimaera were calm, uneventful affairs - traveling from one sector of the Outer Rim to another, punctuated with impromptu battles with smugglers or bands of pirates they came across during their standard patrols. Occasionally orders from High Command sent the ship on busywork missions that no one else felt like doing (or felt was below them), leaving the tasks to Thrawn to oversee; these generally took place in out-of-the-way sections of space, or on worlds with no clear exploitable qualities.
They had just completed one such task, resupplying a so-called ‘punishment base' on a frozen hell of a world that people were sent to to end their careers. Thrawn, of course, had loved every second of it; by the end of the week he was energized in a way that Eli had never seen. Eli had gotten far less enjoyment out of the assignment, but it was his job to assist his Admiral, so he had gotten to experience the wonder of it all with him: delighting in the driving snow and slick ice underfoot, the near-constant darkness, and the bone-chilling cold. They never spent more time than necessary in the relative comfort of the base or on the Destroyer in orbit overhead, no; not when they could be out enjoying the 'pristine natural landscape' of the planet. It had taken nearly five days to get everything settled before they were ready to get back underway, and would take almost another full week to return to where they had left off on their patrol route.
At 0500, Eli Vanto woke blearily with his alarm. His head was still fuzzy from the night before, where he spent the evening having drinks and playing cards in Thrawn’s quarters. He had been concerned that the Chiss would be disappointed having to leave the ice planet, but on the contrary, he had been almost jovial, surprisingly sociable and in good humor. They had drank rather more than Eli had intended, exchanging toasts in their respective native tongues and playing hand after hand until Eli had realized it was well past ship’s midnight. Thrawn had insisted on escorting Eli back to his room; his last memory was pulling off his uniform and falling onto his bed, two red points of light in the dimly-lit hall disappearing as his door slid closed.
Just have to make it through today, then I’m off rotation for three, Eli thought, feeling more human as he stepped out of the shower and got dressed. He brushed his hair and teeth, popped a few headache and ion tabs, and glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked pale and tired, but no more so than anyone else would at this hour; he had hardly been the only one celebrating getting back underway last night. Adjusting his kepi, he nodded to his reflection then headed to the canteen.
At least things are back to normal now, Eli thought as he carried two cups of caf to the bridge, his datapad tucked under his arm.
Things, as it turned out, were very not back to normal. There was a tension on the bridge, thick and heavy - more than he could attribute to a bunch of hungover navy officers being at work against their will. The usual murmur of conversation was absent, his footfalls echoing across the walkway as he made his way to where Thrawn stood at the main viewport. Eli tried to catch Faro’s eye as he passed her by, but she stubbornly refused to look up from her datapad. He tried Hammerly and Pyrondi next, his steps slowing and brows lifting; they both glanced at Thrawn then back at Eli, shaking their heads almost imperceptibly.
Eli caught Thrawn’s reflection in the viewport as he drew closer: eyes narrowed, lips parted just enough to show his clenched teeth. Rather than standing with his spine straight and hands at his back, his shoulders were slightly hunched, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
I guess the Admiral didn’t sleep, and now he's taking his crabbiness out on the crew. Great. It really wasn’t like Thrawn to do that, but they really had been up rather late. That, plus having to leave an environment he clearly loved in order to return to the monotony of patrol.. Well. Nothing to be done but try to make it through the day, and intercede where he could to make things a little easier for everyone else.
Thrawn’s gaze shifted, the intensity of it even in reflection making Eli nearly stumble in his approach as their eyes met. Thrawn's demeanor changed instantly: his face practically lit up, eyes widening and a small smile spreading on his lips. He stood up tall as he turned, eyes roaming over Eli as he drew closer and closer; the weight of dread on the bridge was instantly gone, like a sunbeam had broken through black clouds.
“Sir. Your caf,” Eli said, holding out the cup. Thrawn took the offered drink, long fingers wrapping slowly around the container and lingering over Eli’s gloved ones.
“Thank you, Commander.” His tone was warm, pleased - like Eli had brought him new rare art to study and not simply a cup of the subpar caf served across the Navy. After a few moments Thrawn shifted his grip, allowing Eli to pull his hand away. He lifted the cup to his lips and sipped, humming his appreciation.
“Yes, well. Let me know if you need anything, Sir.” Eli glanced up, surprised to see Thrawn staring down at him with unusual intensity. Thrawn blinked once, slowly, then nodded. “Carry on, Commander.”
Eli headed to his station and started pulling up spreadsheets on his datapad, exchanging smiles with the rest of the crew as he passed them. Whatever storm had been brewing was gone, much to the relief of everyone present.
The rest of the morning went by without incident. Eli occasionally had the distinct sensation of eyes resting on him, though whenever he glanced up he couldn’t find the source. Just my imagination, he supposed. The feeling grew in both occurrence and intensity until about lunchtime, at which point the hairs on the back of his neck began pricking up; a subconscious warning for a danger that wasn’t there. Just his fellow bridgemates chatting quietly and Thrawn, walking the length of the bridge or lingering at the edges of the room, investigating the work of the rest of the crew.
Normally Thrawn would have retired to his off-bridge office to do his own work by now, but he had sent Faro there instead. She and Eli had been discussing the best locations along their patrol to linger when they were back on course; seeing the Chimaera and the rest of the fleet in high orbit overhead was generally an effective reminder of the Empire’s presence for any who might need it, for one reason or another. Thrawn had approached - no, he had stalked over to them, setting a firm hand on Eli’s shoulder while ordering Faro to relocate to the office to continue her work. She took it in stride, as she took most of the Admiral’s peculiarities - besides, the office was far more pleasant to work in, and a perk of her rank she didn’t often get to use given Thrawn’s more hands-on leadership style. Thrawn himself hadn’t didn't as she stepped away, his eyes narrowed until the door closed behind her. His attention returned to Eli at that point, the cool weight of his hand still pressing down on his shoulder.
“Take your lunch in my personal office, Commander, and resume working on your project in there for the remainder of your shift.” Thrawn’s voice was soft, nearly a purr; a profound difference from the sharp tone he had just used with his first officer.
“Yes, Sir!” Eli was more than happy to follow the order - Thrawn’s chair was comfortable, and his large desk and superior computer gave Eli the space to have far more datasheets open and processing simultaneously than his workstation. Thrawn met his enthusiasm with another smile, his eyes tracking over Eli’s face before turning away, satisfied.
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The afternoon passed by quickly. Eli was so engrossed in his work, in hunting cargo manifests then cross referencing them against the shipping routes of dozens of freighters, in comparing several complex matrices against the constantly updating rate figures of the intergalactic metals market, that he lost complete track of time. It wasn’t until he heard a deep inhale of air that his finally eyes focused past his spreadsheets to the figure standing, unmoving, in the dim room beyond. Thrawn had shed his uniform and put on workout clothes, the dark blacks of the cloth he wore and blue of his skin blending in with the holoprojection; his red eyes, unblinking, were close enough to the equally red door-lock indicator that Eli simply hadn’t realized he was no longer alone. How long had Thrawn been standing there? How long had he been staring silently at Eli? His nostrils flared as he lifted his chin and took another deep breath, his mouth falling open and eyes half-lidding while Eli yelped in delayed surprise.
“Sir! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was, I’ll get out of your way..” Eli’s hands danced over the keys and closed down his programs. Thrawn’s eyes narrowed, and Eli could swear he heard a rumble coming from deep in his chest.
“Take your time, Commander. Would you care to join me in a sparring session?” It wasn’t an unusual question; in fact, it happened more often than not, though seldom this early in the evening.
“Sure, let me grab my gear and I’ll meet you down at-”
“No.” Thrawn cut Eli off sharply, then cleared his throat and spoke again, the silken purr back in his voice. “No need. We can use my private dojo. There is plenty of room for us both, and we need not worry about.. prying eyes.” Thrawn held out a thin pile of folded cloth. “I took the liberty of retrieving your clothing for you.”
“Oh. Uh, yeah, that’s good, Sir. Thank you.” Eli took the offered clothes; Thrawn’s fingers stroked down his own bare ones, his gloves and hat abandoned on the top of the desk hours ago. “I’ll just.. Step into the ‘fresher to change, and meet you there.”
Thrawn did not respond, and Eli did not notice the way the Chiss stared at him, his breath rate increasing and muscles twitching as Eli slid past him and headed deeper into his quarters.
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Eli had the distinct impression that Thrawn was showing off.
Rather than joining him in their usual pre-sparring stretches, Thrawn was going through martial arts forms. His movements were fluid and precise, the placement of his feet and swing of his arms perfectly controlled. He was graceful for someone so tall, and shockingly flexible. Eli couldn't help but stare, and Thrawn seemed to like that; every time he glanced over and caught Eli’s eye, his chin lifted a little higher, his eyes flashed a little brighter.
Thrawn's behavior was't the only thing different, though. Eli couldn’t be sure, but it sure seemed like Thrawn’s forehead crests were slightly more pronounced than usual, the skin over them darker. Also his scent, something unidentifiable despite years of Eli trying to figure out an accurate comparison, was stronger than it typically was. It wasn’t unpleasant - far from it, Eli very much enjoyed how Thrawn smelled - but it normally wasn’t detectable unless in close quarters with the man. Now, after being in Thrawn's office, he felt like he had bathed in it; like it had entered his pores and sank into his hair. And was it his imagination, or was there a vague striped pattern of darker blue on the back of Thrawn’s arms?
“Commander.”
Eli’s attention snapped back to the present and he scrambled to his feet; Thrawn was apparently feeling suitably limber, as he was now standing in a ready stance with one arm extended.
“Come.”