Work Text:
Filling Lieutenant Commander Vanto's shoes was a hard task, both for Thrawn and the several aides he had trialed and dismissed in turn. But a Grand Admiral had a right to be picky, for certain, and you actually respected him taking the extra effort to find a proper match for his needs rather than simply taking the next person randomly appointed to him. All this only heard through the Chimaera's rumor mill, of course, though what exactly had happened to Vanto was... rather up to debate.
What you didn't quite expect was to be the next candidate.
You shifted your weight from one foot to the other as you waited for him in his office, hands behind your back, and eyes flitting around the various works of art around the room, some of them holos, some of them real and-
A holo of one of your pieces from college was on his desk?
Ooooh noooooo-
You feel your face heat, and you looked away, focusing on one of the more naturalistic holos on the wall. Judging by the texture, the original was a painting.
You hear the door slide open, and you barely have time to snap to attention before he's saying, "At ease, Lieutenant."
You pause for a moment, taken off gaurd by the immediacy of the order, before you fall back into your default position. He steps beside you, glancing at the piece that caught your attention, before his eyes turn to you. "What do you see in this work, Lieutenant?"
You swallow thickly. Your admiration of the man was no secret among your friends, and they'd teased you relentlessly about how well or poorly you would be able to maintain your composure this close.
But you were professional. You could answer that much.
"I was just wondering if the artist had a scientific background," You say, almost shyly. "Their attention to the anatomical accuracy of plants and animals reminds me of scientific illustration, almost, more than painting."
"Before this artist retired and began painting," Thrawn's eyes glow in the subdued light of his office, and you aren't sure if the pleased look in them is real, or in your imagination. "He was an ecosystems engineer for several terraforming projects during the Republic. Very good, Lieutenant."
You could only hope he can't see how warm your face gets at the compliment, and you duck your head a little, "Thank you, sir."
Your eyes flicker to the holo of your art sitting on his desk, once again wondering what he might see in it.
Thrawn notices the movement, following your gaze, before looking back to you. "You do fine work," is all he says as explanation, though a Grand Admiral never truly needs to explain himself. He let's that hang for a second, studying how your flustered expression deepens with an almost amused smirk, though you might just imagine that. "Report to my office at 0630 hours tomorrow, and we will discuss my expectations for you as my aide. For now, I have other matters to attend to." He turns to his desk and sits down, pulling out his datapad. "Dismissed."
You balk at him for a moment. No trial period? No proper interview? Just a brief discussion about art, and that's it?
But you catch yourself. You're not one to question your-
"If you have questions, ask them," Thrawn interrupts your thoughts, looking back up at you. "I understand Captain Rit did not appreciate inquisitive subordinates. I do."
You hesitate a moment. The Captain had always criticized you for asking him too many questions, though only when time allowed it, you wouldn't dare do so in an emergency - but you'd always wanted to understand. "What makes me different than the candidates you trialed and rejected, sir?"
That subtle amused look is on his face again, and you think it take a long time working with him before you'll be able to read his face properly, to tell what that look actually means. "Like I said, Lieutenant. You do fine work." He nods to your art work. "The attention to detail, combined with whats obviously an attempt to incorporate new and unfamiliar techniques speaks to simultaneous commitment to quality, while still working to improve and expand your skills and knowledge base." His glowing red eyes move back to you, and you feel more seen, more stripped bare and pinned by those eyes than anyone had ever made you feel in their entire life. "Is that explanation satisfactory, Lieutenant?"
You fight the urge to wipe you sweaty palms on your uniform, heart pounding in your ears, and warmth in your chest.
You're in deep shit.
But you nod. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
He nods again, turning back to his datapad. "Dismissed," he says again, though not brusquely, before adding, "And I will see you first thing in the morning."
"...I look forward to it, sir."
And you really did. Maybe just a little too much.