Work Text:
Eli ducked into the first empty classroom he found and pulled out his datapad, his thoughts racing along faster than his fingers could type. For weeks, ever since he and Thrawn transferred to the Imperial Academy on Coruscant, he’d known the words were in there somewhere, but they remained buried in the back of his mind, disappearing each time he tried to see them clearly. It took witnessing their training instructor unfairly and baselessly accuse Thrawn of cheating, and suddenly everything slid into place.
Commandant Deenlark,
No doubt you will hear other versions of this story, and I would like to offer my perspective concerning the matter of Cadet Thrawn and the telemetry analysis examination. As Thrawn’s study partner, I would like to attest that his skills exceed the scope of the course, and his perfect score on the exam comes as no surprise. I am also able to provide oral testimony on this matter as needed.
But Eli knew that wasn’t the extent of the problem.
Additionally, I believe this is part of a larger trend in which Cadet Thrawn is blamed for classroom disruptions caused by other cadets who continue their actions without consequences or reprimand.
Eli watched the cursor blink, his brief, shining moment of clarity dissolving into a sense of powerlessness.
Can’t you do anything about this? It’s not fair.
No, he thought, running the cursor backward and erasing his last line of text. It wasn’t fair, and he knew all Commandant Deenlark would have to say about that was that life wasn't fair. Appealing to the Empire’s sense of fairness was naive and stupid, and it wasn’t his place as another lowly cadet to get involved in something like this. Beyond punishing Eli for speaking out of turn to a superior officer, Deenlark might also suspect Eli of cheating, and so close to graduation, after so many years of work, Eli couldn’t risk getting dragged down alongside Thrawn.
After all, this was how the core worlds treated outsiders, and Eli had known that when he arrived. The snide comments from fellow cadets and instructors alike, the lopsided scrutiny—it wasn’t Eli’s fault that Thrawn was an alien. This was just the price of admission if they wanted to graduate from the academy.
He backspaced, returning the document to its original blank before deleting it entirely. He wished he could delete the feeling in his stomach that told him he was being a coward.
~
For the first time in five days, Eli had a moment to himself. Between graduation and seeing his family and learning the fate of his future, all he wanted to do was take a hot shower and sleep for a full rotation, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until he set the record straight with his parents.
Hi Mom, Dad:
It was good to see you earlier, and by the time you get this, I hope you’ll be back home on Lysatra. I know it’s a long flight to Coruscant, so I appreciate you coming to see me graduate. I hope you’re proud. I got my ship assignment, too. I’ve been designated to the Blood Crow with Lt. Thrawn.
He conveniently left out the fact that he hadn’t been given a supply officer position because he knew any pride his parents felt would immediately vanish. His eyes glanced over to the data card that contained his future—his derailed career. Now that the shock had worn off, he realized he was relieved—grateful, even—to begin his career in the Imperial Navy with a familiar face nearby. Whether he intended to or not, he’d gotten used to Thrawn’s presence and found the exiled Chiss’s steady calm an anchor against his own uncertainty. He felt how he felt, and there was nothing more to say to his parents. They’d made it abundantly clear how they felt about aliens, never mind that they’d spent the entire weekend enduring the silent ridicule of the Coruscanti elite for their Wild Space accents. When you didn’t belong, it helped to remember that somebody else always belonged less than you.
He’s not so bad, Eli found himself typing in spite of himself. Really. I know the stories you’ve heard about the Chiss, but those are just stories. I’ve gotten to know Thrawn, to see what he’s actually like, and honestly, I admire him, and I think you would, too, if you got the chance to know him. He’s loyal and dedicated, and when he sets his mind to something—
He jumped as the door to the dormitory slid open, and Thrawn appeared, offering Eli the smallest hint of a smile. Eli smiled back tightly, afraid that his face reflected what he’d just been typing.
You get the picture. We’re both outsiders here. It’s been good to have someone on my side. I hope you can understand. Talk soon.
Love,
Eli
He glanced over to Thrawn, who sat stiffly on his bed, bent over a datapad. Thrawn’s hair hung loosely into his eyes, and Eli wanted to reach out and tuck the stray locks behind Thrawn’s ear, the urge so powerful it sent a shiver down his arm. Instead, he returned to his datapad and erased the message. Nothing he said would change anything.
~
Thrawn,
I’ve been on the Steadfast for 74 rotations now, and while I’ve begun to settle in, learning a lot of new names and faces, not to mention an entirely new language, it’s hard to know if I’ve found anyone I could really call a friend. It feels wrong to complain about my own loneliness here among your people, and I often wonder if this is how you’ve felt ever since we started at the academy together, like an outsider no matter what you do. I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to make it feel like I belong here.
You said a friend must be allowed the freedom to wander. Our paths seem so different now. I look out at the stars, and I know they’re not the ones you see, wherever you are. I don’t know where your path will lead you any more than I know my own future. Given the choice, though, even with my freedom, I’d choose to wander beside you. That’s what friends do.
I know you’re out there. You know I’m out here. I wish that was enough for me, just knowing, but it's not. It's just not. Why didn’t you ask me to stay? Why don’t you ask me to come back?
Eli
His chrono beeped, signaling that he was due on the bridge in ten minutes. Ten minutes or ten hours, it would never be enough time to tamp down the ache that went everywhere with him now. He might as well have just written I miss you and saved himself some words. He moved to erase the file, then stopped. Five more minutes until he was on duty. Instead of deleting the file, he saved it and suppressed it, ensuring that no one would ever accidentally stumble across what he’d written. Nothing ever stopped being true just because you looked away.
~
TO: Admiral Ar’alani of the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet
SUBJECT: Resignation
Please accept my formal resignation from my position as Lieutenant aboard the ship Steadfast, effective immediately.
Eli gnashed his teeth in frustration. What game was Thrawn playing, sending Eli halfway across the galaxy for some poorly-defined errand—busywork whose purpose no one had even bothered to explain to Eli—and this was what he got in return?
A mere acknowledgement? Barely a greeting?
He’d been working his ass off for months, isolated, alone, and never questioning his orders. No end in sight, no hint of what his work meant or if it even mattered, and that’s all he got? Good day?
That’s it. He’d had enough. He’d submit his resignation to Ar’alani and ask her to drop him off at the next ship depot they saw. He didn’t care much what happened; he’d make his own way back to Wild Space.
My apologies for my abrupt departure.
What loyalty did he even owe the Chiss anyway, since apparently loyalty didn’t seem to be an important trait to them, did it?
I trust you will find another capable officer to analyze the selected data in my place.
Eli’van’to
He gripped the datapad so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and he made it all the way to the door of Ar’alani’s office before his mind caught up with his feelings. With every second that passed, he doubted his plan even more. He wasn’t doing this because he thought it was the right thing to do; he was resigning because he wanted to hurt Thrawn. When he heard the sound of something moving behind Ar’alani’s door—a muffled voice, words he couldn’t make out—he abandoned his mission altogether and returned to his quarters.
Rubbing his eyes, he threw himself onto his bed and tried not to cry. In a final flash of anger, he stood up and snapped the data pad in two, tossing the pieces onto the corner of his desk. He sank back onto his bed. If he felt the same in the morning, he could always rewrite the letter.
~
Morning. He’d been awake for an hour now, staring at the ceiling of his bunk and waiting for his alarm to go off, and when it did, he was surprised to find himself content to get up and start his day. Nodding to the Chiss officers already on duty, he sat at his workstation and began to sift through the data he’d been assigned. It still made no sense, and he was no closer to finding a pattern or even a reason for the project in the first place, but day after day, he returned.
Sometimes, his mind emptied, and the words he dreamed of saying floated across his vision.
Thrawn,
I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time, and I’m not quite sure why I haven’t. Well, I do know why I haven’t, but I’m tired of keeping it to myself because I’ve felt this way for a long time and it hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s gotten stronger. I’m not expecting you to feel the same, and you don’t have to pretend anything just to spare my feelings. I just wanted you to know.
Too wordy. Convoluted.
Thrawn,
I just wanted you to know that—
No.
Thrawn,
I need you to know that—
There was no need to sugarcoat it.
Thrawn,
I love you.
Fuck.
I love you.
Too honest. Eli blinked his eyes like he’d just been staring at the sun. He gave up, deleting the document from his new datapad and double-checking that it was gone.
~
Thrawn,
Meet me in the data analysis center, 22:00 hours.
Eli
He pressed send and looked at his chrono. Only four hours to go.
~
Eli planned to stake out a corner of the data analysis center a full hour before he’d requested Thrawn meet him, giving him time to make sure everything was perfect and that there would be no surprises. It made sense, then, that when he arrived an hour and a half early, Thrawn was already seated at a console, his eyes staring intently at the empty screen. Eli coughed nervously.
“You’re early,” Thrawn said.
“You’re earlier.”
“I had some…data…to analyze.”
“That’s so interesting,” Eli said, sitting beside Thrawn. Their knees almost touched. “I’ve been doing some data analysis, too, actually.”
Thrawn raised an eyebrow at him. “In that case, perhaps we can compare results,” he said. “Depending, of course, on what you have been analyzing.”
“Yes, I’d like to, um, compare results,” Eli said, reaching nervously for the datapad where he’d written himself notes. He fought back the urge to continue their meandering small talk. If he really wanted to, he could both prolong the conversation indefinitely and shield himself from ever actually having to say anything vulnerable. Yes, he could do that, but he knew he’d only be angry with himself after the fact, and his feelings would still be there, too.
He glanced at his datapad. He’d been optimistic; the only note read: Tell him you love him.
“So I’ve been running a long-range analysis, looking for changes over time,” he said. His mouth felt dry, like it was full of chalk, but it was too late to stop now. “And I haven’t really noticed any change. Or, well, I guess—the trend line is consistent—steady, really.”
“Interesting,” Thrawn said, nodding. He brought his hand up to his chin in thought. “And what is it you have been observing?”
“My feelings,” Eli blurted out. “About you. For you.”
Thrawn blinked twice in a subtle—but real—display of surprise, then nodded. Though vaguely reassured, Eli had no idea what Thrawn was trying to communicate that he understood.
“I see,” Thrawn said. “Do you happen to have…or, could you share what you have been—“
“Just this,” Eli said as he leaned in, closing his eyes as he brought his face toward Thrawn’s. He had meant for it to be just one kiss, quick and to-the-point, but just as he began to pull away, Thrawn pulled him back, kissing him deeper. What started as just hesitant lips turned into lips and teeth and tongues, their hands fumbling for one another, fingers grasping at fabric and muscle and each other.
“Just that,” Eli said again, taking a deep breath.
“Thank you…for sharing,” Thrawn said. He looked at Eli. “I would like to know more.”
“Oh, shoot,” Eli said, patting the outside of his pockets. “I think I left the datapad with the rest of my data in my quarters.” His face relaxed into a smile. “We can go there now and take a look, yeah?”
“That would be most illuminating.”
Illuminating, indeed. Eli saw everything clearly now. He couldn’t change the past, and he didn’t know the future, but when he looked down and saw his hand in Thrawn’s, the present shone brilliantly.
“C’mon,” he said impatiently. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”