Thrawn - Blog Posts
Hi there what are we talking about I’m curious :0
anyways take some art I’m sure you’ll appreciate and not worry about any fear :)
I think I’m finally free. I have not seen the evil blue military man on my dash in over 2 months. I did it. The curse has been lifted
I can finally face no worry creeping down my spine for the threat of his existence in my presence has been permanently eradicated.
"HAPPY NEW YEAR 2025" 🎇🎆🎉 😀
GRAND ADMIRAL PRAWN
The fully rendered art for this joke (x)
Redraw of a thing I made a few years ago :>
And may the fourth be with you hehehe
hey there!! THRANTOBER incoming?? i haven't finished making the prompts list yet, let me know in the comments if you have ideas
The Copper Wire and the Stars
After following your heart you run into a certain Senior Captain.
Can be read as platonic or romantic, g/n reader, no warnings.
The halls of the Chiss cruiser were emense. Constructed of rings and circuits that intertwined and overlapped with one another, creating intricate patterns that all led to the center of the ship in a spiral. The halls curved along with it, large enough for five grown chiss to stand side-by-side and walk comfortably down, every door was the exact same rectangular shape with slightly curved edges, every once in a while a uniformed chiss would exit from one of the durasteel doors with an automated hiss. It was nearly impossible to tell them apart, impossible to nagivate the large ship except by the markings along the edges of the walls that were all in Chenuh. You had no sense of direction as you wondered the halls, unable to tell up from down, left from right, if you were sideways or pointed straight up. And no matter how good your internal compass was onland, here you could not pin point true north no matter how hard you tried, or the gravity well as it would be here.
As you walked along the halls, your eyes wondered, taking in every crevice of the large vessel. They drifted along the walls, and the floors, studying every passing robotic and chiss alike. As well as the few other humans who crossed your path, each appearing just as wonderstruck as you felt. Allowing a hand to carefully trace along the wall, your large eyes swept upwards to the bundles of wires that traversed the ceilings. Though you were certain they were not meant to be elegant, merely for functionality, making sure that various functions of the ship were properly supplied. You found a beauty in the coppery strands, as they twisted and turned along the height of the ceiling, you could only think of them as art. Keeping your eyes on the wires, you found one that you felt most drawn to and followed it. With no where to be and no idea where you were, you chased after the copper path. As it twisted and turned, joining with larger strands and splitting back apart into its own being, you followed it down hallways small and large, through automatic doors and passed many other beings. It seemed as if the strand would continue forever, and you had no problem wiht that, settling with yourself that you would follow it forever until you found the end. As your soft boots padded against the floors, a slight skip came to your step, as if you were dancing along to the music of a piano or some other instrument. Your feet felt like they barley touched the ground, and your pace quickened. On the verge of runnning, running after the copper thread. That is when it came to an end.
Looking up still as you came to a sudden halt, the wire twisted in on itself and shot straight up. Possibly into the inner workings of the ship, or onto the upper level. You did not know. A breathless laugh escaped your lips as you stood, alone in the wide open hallway. Looking around, you found yourself completely alone, not another soul in sight. With a hum, you looked to the wire above you and waved goodbye to it, before setting off to find your starting point and your room again. As you turned a small viewport caught your eye. Barely two feet long and half of that high, the window showed still space outside. Freestanding stars, glittering red, white, yellow, blue, and green. They twinkled in and out of existence just as they did on your own world, the black void of space magnifying their brilliance. You stood there for a long while, a few minutes, a few hours, what did it matter. You studied every speck that you could see, counting the coloured ones, and smiling whenever you saw one move. You studied one cluster that you were almost certain made a constellation that you were familiar with from your planet, when the skies exploded in streams of streaking colours. The stars blurred together, becoming bright white lines that painted the inside of the cruiser with light, as it entered hyperspace. It burned your eyes for a moment, the light, but captivated as you were you could not bring yourself to look away. As a spacefaring species, the Chiss did not bother with protective shielding along the edges of the viewports, they had evolved for the lights to not bother them. As a member of a younger species in the asspect of spacetravel, you simply had to remember to not gaze for too long.
Tearing your eyes from the viewport, they landed once again on the coppery wire that led you here. Peaking around the corners of the hall, you made sure that there was no one coming near you, as your eyes locked on one segment of the line. A burbling laugh slipped from your lips and you spun yourself around.
Keeping your movements small and tight, you brought your arms to clasp at your heart. Your laughs echoing through your ears, the copper plating on the ceiling all blurred into one solid sheet with artificial swirls working their way through them. You continued to twist around, the fabric of your clothes flowing with you in what little ways they could, letting your arms free to spin beside you as enjoyed the pure bliss of this. You spotted a glimpse of blue from the corner of your eye and came to an abrupt stop, stumbling to the side, as a chiss came from around the corner. His blueish-black hair was slicked back in proper military fashion, his hands clasped behind his back, his long strides that had been carrying him in her direction came to a stop. His uniform, a dark grey, was perfectly pressed, lines of burgundy ran through the seams. On one shoulder he proudly displayed the symbol of the Ascendancy, on the other a blazing sun. It was the commander of this vessel. You had met him more than once, specifically when you had first arrived on the vessel. He had welcomed you and your kin, and exchanged names. His was Mitth’raw’nuruodo.
His studious face, with his strong cheekbones and sharp jawline, took in your state. Standing to the side of the hall, chest rising and falling a bit too quickly, cheeks flushed, and eyes wide, still in perfect view of the starry night outside. A singular eyebrow quirked upwards, perhaps amusement twinkled in his eyes, he took a breath as he prepared to speak.
“Ms. (y/n),” his cool voice enveloped you, steady as he was with just a hint of youth.
“Captain Thrawn,” you returned his greeting, your head inclining in his direction as his did the same. He smiled, it barely noticeable, a ghost of one. And continued forward, striding down the hall. As he passed you, the scent of evergreens and crisp winter days drifted with him. Bringing with it the memories of frolickling in the snow, making angels and snowmen, trying to climb trees with branches too close together. Breaking branches and watching the sap run across your fingers. The cold causing your nose and cheeks to turn different shades of pink, the cold slush of the melting snow underneath your boots. The warmth of a drink when you returned in, the smell of gingerbread in the oven. A deep breath in, as you tried to steady your pounding heart. At the noise the chiss came to a stop, and turned to gaze at you. His gaze pierced through any armor you may have had, slicing all of your protections, and reading your soul.
“You’re unsteady,” it was true, with every shift you made the room began to spin again. “Do you require assistance?” he cocked his head to the side, expectant of your answer.
“I...” you swallowed, “I could use some help getting back to my room.” he smiled that small smile again, it was barely the edge of his lip pulling up. He crossed over to you in one long stride, and held his hand out for you. With one last breath, you reached over and gripped onto his outstreached hand. It was gloved, and the leather fabric tightened and pulled as he gently nudged you foward. He turned you to be beside him, fastening your arm in the crook of his. Holding tight as you began your walk back down the long halls.
You traverrsed them in silence for a few moments, your eyes again beginning to wander about the ship, eyes alight with fascination. You had once again began to follow the copper coil back to where you had been, when his voice startled you back to reality.
“If I may ask, what were you doing?” For a moment you wondered if he had seen you spinning, but more likely he was asking how you had gotten lost.
“I...” your cheeks reddened, “I wanted to explore the ship. My people have nothing like this.”
“Do they not?” his head quirked to the side, keen interest in his eyes, though you knew that he was aware that his people were far more advanced than yours were. You were a first generation. The first generation of your people to be contacted by aliens.
“No. I spent my entire life believing that the furthest anyone could reach was another planet in our solar system. In a single chambered capsle. Unreachable for someone like me. But now,” your eyes sparkled, “there are unlimited possibilities.”
He hummed, his head remaining straight, “The possibilties are endless. Even I am at times struck with the magnificance of the universe.” You blinked, yes it was magnificent. A whole new world opened to you with its discovery.
“It’s a piece of art. A massive painting, each new story a single brushstroke. It’s beautiful.” He came to a stop, just by the side of another viewport. Looking out at the sea of stars, you could see the lives of millions of beings, their dreams written in the stars, their aspirations, and goals. Their failures and doubts. You wondered if someone looked out at them and wondered about you. You couldn’t help but glance at the red eyes that refelcted back at you through the glass. That looked into your own.
Moving away, you began to walk down the path again. You became aware of the movement of other beings up ahead. Glancing at the blue skinned chiss beside you, you decided to slip your arm from his. Your heart screamed at you as the last bit of contact slipped away, and you chastised its yearning. He was an alien, a military man, you didn’t know him, he didn’t know you, he had no interest in you. You straightened, and found that you were no longer dizzy.
“Thank you for your help, Captain. I believe I can find my way from here.” With a nod, you turned to walk away, and a hand came to rest on your forearm.
“Please,” his eyes peered into yours, the shinning red intense as he studied you, “you still seem unsteady from your” his lips definitely moved upwards that time, “twirling.” A faint rosy hue took over your cheeks and a nervous laugh started.
“Allow me to accompany you the rest of the way,” he once again held out his hand. You began to smile.
“I'll allow it,” this time his smile is prominant, “Thank you.”
“It is my pleasure,” once again he links his arm with yours and moves through the crowds of the cuiser, safely depositing you at your cabin door, a nod as a farewell. The copper wire still high above you, and the stars streaking past.
I have a hankering for Thranto.
Is Audible worth it? I just want to finally listen to all of the Thrawn books (I love the snippets I've heard of Marc Thompson's voice), but will I actually save anything? Or would it be better to buy them individually?
Audible is $14.95/month aka 1 credit per month or 1 free book per month, but the Thrawn audiobooks range from a little less to a little more than $15 each. There is a plan that is $119.50/year, that give you 12 credits.
Buying books individually: $171.25
Monthly plan: $179.40
Yearly plan: $119.50
But once I get these books, I'll probably never use it again seeing as I don't really listen to audiobooks.
If you couldn't tell this was me thinking outloud, I problem solve better when I'm speaking to someone else.
I've heard some debate over which Family the skywalkers will choose. I haven't heard much over the possibility of Vah'nya losing Third Sight, but imagine if she did. Whose Family would she choose? Ar'alani's former Family the Irizi? Her (possible) father Thrawn's? To my knowledge there aren't any Chiss she's particularly close to.
But you know what would be sweet? If she took the Family of a very close friend, of someone who swore to protect her. It would be unconventional. It would cause an uproar in the Syndicure.
Imagine if she took the name Eli'vah'nya. Ivah.
Chiss take
Chiss purr.
That’s it, that’s my take.
Vurawn wondered often what his life would have looked like if he had taken the Mitth's proposal to be a merit adoptive all those years ago. At odds with the foul faced Syndic who had come to collect him? Surrounded by different friends than the ones he had now? On course for a successful military career? Certainly not here.
The Kivu were considered an obscure family by the majority of the rest of the Acendancy. As a Lesser Family, they had developed their own customs and traditions. They were more expressive than other Families, they valued art, each Kivu having their own favored medium. They grew up dancing and singing, it was uncommon for a Kivu not to be proficient in some instrument. They were an anomaly. A cultural hub in the midst of Rentor.
But what unsettled the other Families the most about the Kivu was their method for choosing their new Patriarch. While other Families elected their Patriarch democratically or the dying Patriarch chose their successor themselves, the Kivu title was passed down through blood. From Patriarch to their eldest child.
Vurawn had entered the military as a young male and had made it quite far for his time spent there and his Family name. Junior Captain. But he had other duties, and when news of his Patriarch's death reached him, he had to return to Rentor. He left his military career behind him.
And he found himself here. In a world where he was mentored by Thooraki himself, a brotherhood with a young Mitth, blossoming friendship with a sweet Syndic, a rivalry with a Prime. Ten ruling families instead of nine. A golden cape displaying his Family's symbol. And a title:
Patriarch Kivu'raw'nuru.
Eli Vanto (reciting his script): I have been sent to warn you of the oncoming storm. The death of the Acendancy. The great evil that is coming your way. I come as a sign of good faith, I come at the bidding of Grand Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo. For proof I have his most prized journal.
Thurfian: ...you smell funny.
@tinylilmeowmeow inspired by this post
Don't feel sorry. I'm a Thurfian apologist and a Thrawn apologist at the same time, so it's fun.
The thing is, Thurfian is the character that is mostly always right, he does it for the Ascendancy and see Thrawn for the actual menace that he his, but he has a hard time proving because Thrawn is a prodigy that always get away with everything (until he doesn't).
I bet he gained white hair early thanks to our dear Grand Admiral.
I actually ask myself if I shouldn't write for him from time to time, but the fandom for the Ascandancy trilogy is really niche.
You absolutely should write for him, the fandom is niche, but those who are here are like parasites and we need to feed. Plus I've been looking for good Thurfian fics.
One of the things that fascinates me about the Thrawn trilogies is that he always has a mirror. During the Empire Era it's Pryce and to a certain extent Krennic, even Tarkin from a certain point of view. In the Acendancy Era it was supposed to be Thrass, but his time was cut short (😔). Thalias tried to fill the role, but his mirror shouldn't agree with him. Thurfian is a prodigy of his own right. He does not have the strategic skills of Thrawn when it comes to the battlefield, but when it comes to matters of the court there is no one that you would be in better hands with. Whether you like it or not.
I believe is that Thurfian is just as much of a menace as Thrawn. Thrawn cannot possibly see the devastation that his actions take on the Acendancy from within, but Thurfian cannot see the affects of his inaction from without.
And yes, Thurfian isn't that old, he just has permanent stress lines.
I promise I'm not a Thurfian apologist. It's just that he's an interesting, dynamic character and I desperately want Thrawn to be accepted by his people.
The Arrival
Warnings: none
Chiss delegates were coming to the Empire. When Governor Arihnda Pryce had first heard the news she had scarcely believed her ears, but no, they had not tricked her and neither had the secretary that had brought her the news. Arihnda grimaced, she almost felt sorry for what she had done to the poor girl. But surving in the Empire was a dangerous game, and one could never be too careful. So she didn't let her mind dwell on it. Still, she couldn't believe that she was here at what appeared to be a regular, old, run of the mill gathering of the Coruscant elite. There was dancing, party drinks, colored lights strung from every eave, the only oddity from any other high-class party was that this one was held at the forefront of a landing platform. Currently empty, but as the night went on the whispers of people began to rise, the whispers that tonight's gathering was in fact a welcoming party for the Chiss....Aristocra who would be joining the Empire.
Ah yes, the Chiss. A remarkable species, tall and lithe, with few exceptions, in her personal experience. They all possessed a blue palor, ranging from a powdered baby blue, to a deep midnight. Their eyes shone bright red, glowing even in the daylight. And they all sported a series of strange markings across their foreheads, it was unique to each Chiss and she often caught herself wondering if the patterns continued down to other places on their bodies.
The most important aspect of a party, Arihnda had decided years ago, was the people. And that night the small square they had carved out, was certainly not lacking. Some of the most important men and women in galaxy had gathered there, including but not limited to: Moff Jerjerrod, Moff Adelhard, Moff Delian Mors, Grand Moff Tolruck, and even Grand Moff Tarkin. As well as a number of ISB officers and lesser goveners and senators, Arihnda Pryce herself included. But none of them concerned her tonight. Any other night her eyes would sought him out, but tonight he was impossible to miss.
The Chiss stood only twenty feet away from her, engaged in conversation with Colonel Yularen, an expected occurrence. His white uniform was buttoned up the neck, his golden shoulder bars neatly polished, and his Grand Admiral's plaque shined in the diming light. His blueish-black hair that had grown long enough to curl slightly, was tucked under and pinned, giving the allusion that it was shorter than it truly was. In his un-gloved hand he held a flute of some dark red alcohol. Swirling it gently and taking a sip every once in a while, he would have come off as completely impassive, undisturbed by the prospect of tonight's meeting, if his red eyes hadn't kept flicking over to the spaceport every few moments or his neck hadn't been tightening against the pressed colar of his uniform. To the untrained eye he seemed as calm as ever, but Arihnda could see that he was nervous.
Moving through the crowd, swiping a glass of some yellow sparkling drink from a busdroid, she made her way towards the Grand Admiral and Colonel. As she approached she could discern that they were in deep conversation concerning the Grand Admiral Thrawn's Tie Defender project. A smile tugged at the corner of her lip, she had long since convinced the Admiral to station that project of his on her home planet of Lothal, and so far the arrangement had paid off wonderfully for the both of them.
Due to it, Lothal remained the center point for all military activity in the Outer Rim, providing it with an unchallenged position of power with the lesser systems and a direct connection to Coruscant itself, meaning a communications hub. And for the Admiral, virtually free testing grounds, supplies, and labor. The deal wouldn't get any sweeter. From what she had been told the Tie Defender project was proceeding at a satisfactory speed and continued to produce the most efficient fighters the galaxy had ever seen. As she neared the end of her musings, she stepped to the edge of the two men's conversation range, just as Thrawn was finishing his sentence.
"...even pilots of mediocre skill are aces behind the controls of a Defender."
"They will surely be a great asset for the Empire." Arihnda stepped forward, hands clasped behind her back, she inclined her head to the two men. Yularen took a step back, allowing her intrance into their circle while also distancing himself. His critical eyes took in her modest uniform for the occasion. She had opted to remain in her grey Imperial jumper, instead of dressing up for the night. From her side she could feel Thrawn eyes burning into her. She had long since become accustomed to his...intensity, but she had not yet learned how to be comfortable under it. Nor did she think she ever would. It took all of her willpower just not to squirm.
"Grand Admiral Thrawn, Colonel Yularen," she greeted them both.
"Governor Pryce," Thrawn's deep melodious voice rose to greet her in turn. Yularen bowed to them both, before turning and striding off to find company in another group. Arihnda's lips pressed into a thin line. He had never exactly agreed with Thrawn's choice of companionship with her. She turned to look up at the Chiss, he towered over her, his presence was both comforting in a way and intimidating. She was aware that he could as surely be a powerful enemy as he was an ally. Though, she thought ruefully, she didn't know what he would do without her on the political field.
Glancing at him, she wondered if he understood the political significance of the Chiss sending delegates into Empire space. Maybe that was why he was so on edge, maybe it was only because it had been so long since he had been among his own people. Watching as his hand tightened around the neck of his glass as he once again glanced towards the landing pad, she decided to broach the subject.
"When do you expect them to arrive?" she kept her voice light, nonchalant. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip, his gazed still fixed forward.
"I am not sure what you mean," she smiled slightly, he would bluff his way out of a confrontation with a bloodcrazed enemy and mislead even the brightest tactician. But this man was a horrible liar when it came to casual conversation.
"Oh?" a slight eyebrow raise, "I thought it would be at the forefront of you mind."
He gave her a poor imitation of a quizzical expression, and she internally sighed.
"The arrival of the Chiss delegates?" he paused for a moment before his shoulders dropped a few inches.
"It has crossed my mind once or twice," he admitted, and by "once or twice" she knew he meant that he hadn't stopped thinking about it once.
"Are you ready for their arrival?"
"I had hoped so," he paused and she gained the faint sense that he was speaking more to himself than to her, "I had hoped that I would have more time before facing the Aristocra again." A puzzled expression took over her face.
"Again?" Thrawn turned to face her, his own face blank, a slow blink took over.
"I am cavpet for a reason, Governor Pryce. The Aristocra are an army of their own right, their fight to protect the Ascendancy from within. They proclaimed me a danger to our world and they had every right to do so." She stayed silent for a moment, mulling over his words in her head, she could understand his fears to face his people if they thought he was a danger to their society. But surely they must recognize that he would not intentionally endanger them? If he was even a fraction as loyal to the Ascendancy as he was to the Empire than there was no doubt that he would give his life to protect them. A word he had used snagged at her attention, she twisted her tongue around the foreign pronunciation before turning to face him again.
"Cavpet?" The word was strangled in her mouth, but understandable as she forced it out. He hung his head, his lips pressing together and the skin around his eyes tightening. She leaned closer, unused to such displays of emotion from him, as he spoke.
"Exile."
Arihnda barely managed to keep the look of shock off of her face. She had heard rumors of him having been found on a desolate, uninhabited planet, but she had never even heard a rumor that he was outcasted.
"I...I am sorry," what was she meant to say? There was no way that she could relate. Thrown out from your land, separated from your people, your family. Having everything you loved and knew stripped away from you and being trust into an unknown and dangerous land filled with people trying to stab you at all corners. Wait, maybe she did know how it felt.
But even then, having to stand still and greet the people who threw you out. Acting as a diplomat for the people who showed you no mercy? It was cruel. She could almost feel sorry for him.
"It is no fault of yours," he stated it simply "I do not blame the Aristocra, I understand their reasoning, and I am aware that my exile had to happen so that I could continue to the next stage of my life." She stared at him for a few seconds, that was not how she would have felt if she was in his shoes. He turned his head to hers and a small smile graced his lips. It was exquisite.
"I had hoped that I would be able to construct a viable ground for the Ascendancy to accept me back by the time I came to meet with the Aristocra," melancholy filled his eyes, "I find that unlikely to happen." He straightened and stared down at Arihnda for a second, before nodding and turning to walk away from her.
"Ms. Price," she muttered a goodbye and went her own separate way. Not commenting on his misuse of her title.
Arihnda lingered around the edges of the party for hours, interacting and conversing with various diplomats here and there while she waited and watched. Thrawn had not yet rejoined the socialites' circle. She had suspected that he had run off somewhere to discuss battle tactics with Colonel Yularen, until she spotted the Colonel in vigorous conversation with his own ISB agents. And Tarkin was still in his place, standing almost completely still, allowing suitors to come to him rather than chase them out. There was no one nor anything out of place that could have pointed her towards what Thrawn had disappeared to.
The night dragged on, and as it grew later, some of the politicians began to wane out. Dragging bejeweled skirts and feathered headdresses behind them, they made their way to the exits and out into the cold Coruscant night. It wasn't uncommon for these kinds of parties to last until the very break of dawn, and sometimes continue after, but many of the politicians and military leaders were becoming impatient.
They would wait nearly two hours more, before a sleek spacecraft appeared.
Long and slinder, the vessel gave the appearance of a large bodied snake. Swirls and straight lines of engravings traced the walls of the ship. And it grew closer, three legs popped from the belly of the ship and allowed it to land on the small platform. As it did an outrageous cheer went up from the surrounding socialites.
Looking around Arihnda Pryce could see the curiosity and wonder spreading across the faces of the men and women around her, she listened to their cheers as if in a far away chamber, busy trying to dissect the alien ship, trying to learn what she could before the Chiss, she knew where inevitably inside, exited the craft. There was nothing that she could see beyond the outside design and artistry. She wished there were books that held the secrets to Chiss policy and political intrigue. But unfortunately and excitingly, this was first contact, she would have to learn as she went. As she finished her meager observations, the hatch door at the center of the ship slid open.
Arihnda's heart stuttered. She stared at the ramp leading from the ship to the ground floor, waiting with baited breath as the thuds of people's footsteps became audible from within the ship. She felt herself unconsciously leaning forward, when from the edge of the doorway she caught a glimpse of dark fabric. And two Chiss exited the ship.
They were both of them male, standing at around six foot, one was an inch taller than the other. The one on the left was a deep azure in colour, his eyes remarkably bright against his darker skin, his mouth was pulled into a tight line, and his brow was furrowed. He scanned the area in sync with the Chiss to the right, the closest colour she could think of to describe him was cyan. Not a bright blinding blue, but lighter than any other she had seen. He looked younger than his companion as well, and his eyes seemed to shine a bit more. They both had dark blue-black hair cropped close to the tops of their ears, along with wearing dark grey uniforms, striped along the edges with burgundy red and sporting twin blazing suns on their shoulders. Arihnda didn't mistake them for the Aristocra for a second, she had been among enough military personnel in her lifetime to recognize a uniform where she saw one, and they both had rank plaque on their chests, though she couldn't decifer their meaning.
Her observation was comfirmed correct as the two soldiers positioned themselves at the two sides of the door. And while neither of them carried a visible firearm, probably as a sign of good-faith from the Aristocra, she had no doubt that they could hold their own.
Turning her gaze back to the door of the strange vessel, she was met with the gaze of an older Chiss decked in red, older than the two who had stepped out before, older than Thrawn. His gaze rested on her for two seconds, and during that time she could hear the blood pumping through her ears. His gaze was no less intense than Thrawn's, it must be a species thing then, but unlike Thrawn where she got the feeling he was picking her apart, laying her out on a medtable, and reading her strategies and tactics. It seemed as if with this man, just from those two seconds of study, he could (and would) strip her of every dignity and acomplishment, shred her every dream and hope until nothing was left but a breathing shell, scavenging for power at the bottom of the sea floor. She shuddered, and made a note not to anger him, he had the same look about him as Grand Moff Tarkin.
Looking closely at him, studying his patterns. She noticed that his skin was darker than any of the others, his blue-back hair was graying, pulled into long locks that coiled around his head, his ridges were more defined than those of Thrawn. And his regalia, she frowned as she got a closer look at it, it was the same colour of the other twos' uniform threads. Besides his black boots and gloves, he was draped in dark burgundy red. The fabric swung around him, and from his shoulders a caplet fell. It was decorated in a variety of fine threads that twisted into intricate patterns, but as he stepped down she caught a glimpse of the crest embroidered onto the back of the caplet, a blazing sun. Was it the sign of the Ascendancy?
The idea was pushed to the back of her mind as another male in black exited the ship, tucked under his arm was a holopad of unknown design and a bundle of burgundy fabric. This outfit was made of considerably more fine fabric than that of the soldiers, and the way he held himself reminded her all too well of the politicians standing around her. Though his suit was still striped with burgundy. The Chiss must really like red, she thought ruefully, observing the four Chiss who stood just outside of the vessel.
Grand Moff Tarkin began his approach to the elder Chiss leading the parade, when two more exited the ship. This time a woman cloaked in black striped with yellow exited, and a male of the same age and height with stripes of dark blue stepped off with her. And as Arihnda watched they turned in such a way that she could see they each wore unique crests, not that of the sun. Though looking closer she did begin to see that another patch was present on their opposing shoulders, what appeared to be a solar system composed of two rings, with a single planet in the first and three in the second as well as another larger circle connected to the one in the upper lefthand corner, looking at all of the Chiss she noticed that they all carried this crest, no matter the colour they wore. Last and finally, two more soldiers exited the vessel, both wearing the respective colours of the chiss who came out immediately before them. And these two she noted with a hint of surprise, were carrying blasters.
They filled out of the ship, two of the four soldiers standing at the back of the convoy near the doors of the spaceship, the other two stood at the sides, the three in striped finery stood at the center protected by the warriors at their sides, and at the front stood the one in full burgundy, with his hand now firmly grasped in Tarkin's.
"Welcome to the Empire, I am Grand Moff Tarkin. We were told to expect you tonight. Have a drink, rest yourselves after you long flight. Afterward we will travel further into the capital to meet the Emporer himself." Tarkin's smile was filled with joy, his words flowed like honey, but in truth it was all a test, it was always a test with him. Of course the Chiss were allowed and welcome to stay as long as they wished to mingle, but it would be impolite and improper to leave the Emperor waiting any longer than necessary.
A protocol droid scurried over and gave the fine dressed Chiss the translation in Sy Bisti. The Chiss watched Tarkin his face unchanging, his eyes blank as the protocol droid rattled on. When it had finished, he started himself and spoke. But not in Sy Bisti, not in his native tongue, instead he spoke in Basic. It was undefined and rough, but he knew more than enough to hold a short conversation and be understood.
"I thank you Grand Moff, for your seen hospitality. I and mine, will stay half of the hour. Then we will travel to city's capital to meet with your Emperor." Well played, it would be rude to reject a Grand Moff's invitation, thirty minutes with the excuse of the Emperor waiting for them was more than satisfactory. Apparently Tarkin believed so as well, if the quirk of his lips was any indication.
"And what do I call you?" The older Chiss smiled, a thin, knife like thing.
"I am Patriarch Mitth'urf'ianico. It will be easier for you to call me Thurfian." Once again Arihnda found herself frowning, so it was not just Thrawn's solution to shorten his name. And as for the Mitth, why was the first part of their name the same? Arihnda watched carefully as Tarkin bowed his head and gestured to those around.
"Please mingle, if there is anything I may do for you, speak it and it shall be yours." The Chiss, Thurfian, smiled at his proclamation. He tilted his head as if to think, though no seriousness was put into the gesture.
"There is one thing you may help with Grand Moff." his eyes twinkled as Tarkin promised "anything" as he brought his hand to rest above his heart, "Where is Mitth'raw'nuruodo?" The Grand Moff did not seem surprised by the question in the least. He clasped his hands as he opened his mouth to answer the very question she had been wondering the answer to.
"He is here." Tarkin took a step back and gestured high, to a balcony where Thrawn stood, his hands perfectly clasped behind his back as he gazed down at the scene below. From his vantage point he would have had a perfect view of the landing platform and the entire yard, he could keep an eye on everyone simultaneously. From high above, he inclined his head ever so slightly in the Patriarch's direction before beginning to make his way off of the balcony and down the stairs to meet with those below.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, and the company of socialites parted to make room for him as he slowly walked his towards the eight other Chiss. His pace was slow and calculated as he approached them, he eyes the one in front warily. With good reason Pryce believed, he reeked of danger. He passed her side, and she could see him glance at her from the corner of his eye as he strode past and continued down the aisle. He reached his destination quickly enough, beside Grand Moff Tarkin, directly in front of Patriarch Thurfian.
"Grand Admiral Thrawn." Tarkin aknowledged. He automatically spaced his feet, and squared his shoulders, coming to attention and staring ahead. But even from where she stood so many steps back, despite his attempts to hide it, and remain as stoic and calm as he could. She could see his fist clenching, and the sweat dripping from his neck.
The elder Chiss took him in with one sweep of his eyes.
"Thrawn," his lips curled in what Pryce could only describe as an automatic reaction of disdain. A trained reaction to his name. Thrawn, for his part, remained unphased, staring straight ahead.
"Thurfian," Arihnda was almost certain that he was breaking some sort of protocol there by excluding the Patriarch's title. That same nasty smile crossed his lips, and he leaned forward.
"Grand Admiral," Patriarch Thurfian snorted and stepped back, he looked Thrawn up and down once again. He raised his hand to shoulder height, two fingers raised with the others curled inwards. And made a sharp gesture towards Thrawn. Without hesitation the two soldiers with the red accents charged forward, they gripped Thrawn by the shoulders and pushed him down, one of them kicked in the back of his leg forcing him onto his knees, as they roughly grabbed his long hair and pulled his head back so that he was glaring up at Thurfian. Tarkin took a step forward, his mouth opened to protest, but the soldier in yellow quickly moved to intercept him and pushed him back.
Arihnda jerked forward, a protest if her own catching in her throat as watched the Patriarch take the step back towards Thrawn.
Thurfian clasped his gloved hands behind his back, one brow arched as he glowered down at the other Chiss. He appeared satisfied at Thrawn's position, kneeling in front of him. His hair had come undone and fell across his face, giving him an almost wild appearance. Thurfian's mouth curled as he opened it to speak, a language she did not recognize came from his lips. It floated with a melodious cadence, hard consonants were replaced with vowels, glottal stops such as those found in their names passed without the speaker lingering on them, it was overly filled with "ch's," "ce's" and "s's" making each word flow into the next. Arihnda found herself unable to decern where one sentence ended, and where another began. Bordering frantic, she searched for the translator droid, only to find it standing off to the side, its head cocked to the side in what she would describe as confusion in a human. Distantly, she heard it mutter:
"Curious, I have no records of this language in my database." Karabast. Her one chance to understand what they were doing to him, thrown away. She locked her eyes on Thrawn, hoping that by observing him she could determine what they were doing. How they were punishing him.
Even kneeled on the ground, forced below his station and disgraced, he held himself with the same stoic grace that he always possessed. His expression was unchanging, the only visible sign of any discomfort the clenched fists at his sides. Thurfian shouted a long winded sentence in Thrawn's direction, it was accusatory, this time she caught one word cavpet. Thrawn's own response, in contrast, was short and direct, one word from what she could tell. Thurfian barked a laugh, and Arihnda found herself glaring at the side of his head, wishing that she could tear if off for mocking the Grand Admiral, when he moved forward and tore the plaque from Thrawn's uniform. An outcry rose from the crowds around. Each of the Chiss's faces remained impassive, the only movement the flicker of the blue accented Aristocra, and Thrawn's head bowing down, not reacting to stop the Patriarch in any way.
Thurfian bent down, his face mere inches from Thrawn's and spoke in a voice so soft she wouldn't have believed it had come from him if she hadn't heard it herself.
"Nah cavpet," Thrawn's head snapped up to meet his gaze, shock evident in his eyes and...that was hope she saw. More words were exchanged, this time in a commanding voice again. She could not discern any their meanings, they were all too closely related and unlike anything she had ever heard before. Then he gestured to the Aristocra who stood beside him, and the young man presented him with the red caplet.
The Patriarch held his head high and proud, the caplet draped across his arms, as the two soldiers released Thrawn. She expected him to rush to his feet, but to her surprise he remained knelt. He looked younger there, on his knees, his face tilted upwards, his lips parted slightly, and his eyes shining bright. The words he whispered were broken, and Thurfian replied. Thrawn's jaw set, and his shoulders straightened. He stared ahead, unflinching, as the other began to chant. Soon he was joined by the other Chiss who wore red uniforms. Slowly lifting the caplet high, he unpinned the clasp, and swung it around Thrawn's back. Fastening the burgundy fabric around his shoulder.
He spoke a few more words, before lifting the younger Chiss to his feet. They stared at one another for a moment, before the Aristocra behind them whispered one quiet word.
"K'ihn."
A smiled crossed Thurfian's face, as Thrawn turned to him with wonder in his eyes. He nodded to him and clasped his arm in his own.
"Bah to k'ihn Mitth," he handed the Admiral his plaque back, and Thrawn fastened it over the burgundy cape. Seeming as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders, a small smile lifting his lips. Thurfian placed an arm around the Admiral's shoulders, and began to lead him through the crowd of people, past Grand Moff Tarkin, to the building that Thrawn had exited from. "Come, we have much to discuss."
Arihnda craned her neck, trying to catch the Grand Admiral's eye as he traversed through the crowd once again. But his gaze remained locked ahead, his full attention on the Patriarch, both speaking in the twisting language of before. The Patriarch's arm never leaving Thrawn's shoulders. A red striped guard following them closely. She took a few quick steps foward, intent on following them, before she found her path blocked by the translator droid.
"Curious, very curious." Anger bubbled in her stomach, she reached out and twisted its shoulder so that the protocol droid was facing her.
"What is curious?" she snarled, shaking it a bit. The droid gave a startled squeal before straitening itself back out and answering her with a slightly shaky voice.
"If I have correctly identified a language with a common root as that of the Chiss, as I believe I have; interpreted their voice and mannerisms correctly; and reviewed the symbolism of the caplet, I may be able to give a rudementary translation of the ceremony." Arihnda Pryce stared at him for a second before gesturing for him to continue.
"Well then hurry it up." The droid shuffled back.
"Oh, forgive me mistress, I would feel much more comfortable in my assessment if I was allowed a few days to overview the gathered data and time with one of the natives of the species."
Looking around, the other Aristocra had begun to mingle with the politicians who had remained. Each Aristocra was followed closely by a soldier in the same colour as them. Grand Moff Tarkin had dissapeared with the Patriarch and Thrawn, Colonel Yularen had engaged the burgandy clothed Chiss in a vigourous welcome, to which he replied with an almost cold indiference. The yellow clothed Chiss made their way around the area, mingling with any and all politicians who came their way, she seemed to have a liking for the white frosted sweets that made their rounds. The one in blue, still stood back, closer to their ship, seemingly content to observe the party rather than join in the festivities. Clenching her fist around the droids arm, Arihnda began her march towards the last of the Chiss.
"Your request for additional time is denied; however, you may confer with a native of the species."
"Oh wonderful." The droid swung around and toddled after her, intriged to interact with one of the Chiss. Coming to a stop in front of the young male, she noted the mild surprise that crossed his face befor he masked it perfectly.
"Can I help you?" She could hear the grimace in his voice as the words came out clipped and heavily accented. The governor opened her own mouth to answer, before she was interupted by the protocol droid.
"Oh yes, I am RQ-O72 interspecies relations. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The droid held out a flat hand to the Chiss before them, he simply stared down the droid before muttering something under his breath that the guard behind him hummed in agreement to before turning to Arihnda herself.
"I am Syndic Clarr'obi'nero, Robin if you will." The alien inclined his head to her, in what she assumed was well meant greeting.
"A pleasure," she returned "I am Governor Arihnda Pryce. Governor Pryce will do." She noted the difference in the first of his name, and reminded herself to study it more in depth later. She opened her mouth to speak, perhaps to continue with the civilities, when protocol droid interupted her once again.
"It is of great interest to us what was said during the ceremony preformed with such haste," She sent a glare in the droids direction, as the corner of the Chiss's mouth twiched, and another offhand comment was made to his companion. "I have studied the intonation, and the sygnificcance of such a ceremony is not lost on me, I believe that the language has roots near the planet Exegol, a facisnating region, mostly ice planets. Which would explain your species' palor and inclination to run hot. Taking what I know of the lost languages of the Exegol peoples, I was able to cross reference..." The droid rattled on as Arihnda studied the young male, he had a faintly bemuused expression on his face as he, in turn, studied the droid. Beyond his base appearence, she couldn't decern anything of use from him. He was just as unreadable as the rest of his companions. But the waiting had gone on for long enough, her voice cut through the drooid's chatter.
"It was certainly a lovely ceremony. I wish only to know what it means." She paused for a second. "Grand Admiral Thrawn is a great friend of mine." Robin studied her for a second, a confused look blosoming on his features. He seemed to have exhaused his Basic capabilities. Arihnda turned to the droid.
"RQ-O72, relay everything that I just said into Sy Bisti." Another pause. "Exclude the last sentence."
"Yes, mistress." The droid launched into a long winded translation of her request in the chittery language. As he finished, Robin bowed once again to her.
"They certainly like bowing." She muttered. The droid opened it's box to relay that as well, before she quickly stopped him. The Chiss had mirth in his eyes as he straightened again and gestured to the protocol droid, and began his own chittery speach, speckled here and threre with the flowing words of his native tongue.
"The ceremony was indeed a hasty one, as it is of great importance. A wrong was done many years ago to Mitth'raw'nuruodo," Her impatience must have shown on her face, because he quickened his pace. "He was cavpet and now he is bun'zan'i once again." Bun'zan'i, it was one of the many words whispered by Thurfian before.
Looking up far above them all, the Grand Admiral and Patriarch stood face to face on the balcony, conversing in rapid speach, both cloaked in red burgundy, a significant colour she was sure. Her attention did not stray from them as the string of languages continued towards her. The Chiss bowed again, this time lower, and Arihnda gained the faint sense that he did it purposely. His smile twisting on his face. Thrawn's eyes alight with a fire she had never seen.
"He is bah to k'ihn, he is of the family. One with the Acendancy."
I decided to write a little scene from a story I'm thinking about writing. Let me know if you would like to see more!
Thrawn's daughter/Thurfian's Son
Her ears were burning, purple was beginning to spread across them like a wildfire as she stared at the preposterous male in front of her. He hated her, he had since the moment they met. She had believed that it was his hate for her that made him deny his brother's love for her. And now he tells her that she is too good for him? Her mind raced with memories from not so long ago.
"You called me a pig!"
He moved to her side, looking down at her as he spoke,
"Most certainly. Though do not be mistaken I only mean in regards to your attitude and dress. Your air is that of low born stock, but your family have climbed the social ranks quite impressively, and are of high intelligence, higher than even that of many in my own family, I can admit that. But that does not nullify the fact that your attitude is that of, in simple words, an overzealous heifer."
Her mouth fell open, red eyes staring at the male in front of her,
"A heifer!"
He continued unfazed,
"Beyond that you are quite beautiful," his voice lowered" More beautiful than the Earthen swan, I believe the expression is."
She blinked at him a few times, "You misspeak."
"I do not exaggerate," he lifted her head, two fingers placed underneath her chin, "You will make a wonderful wife," he paused as he moved away, his perfectly plucked eyebrow coming to an arch,
"For some crazen male."
He began to walk away, his back turned to her. She called out desperate for answers,
"Then why do you keep me from your brother if you think so lowly of him?"
He paused once again and turned to face her,
"It is for simple reason that I think so lowly of him that I do keep you away from him. You are much too good for him," he lifted his head in thought, "Though a slime would be too good for him."
She stared slacked jawed, as the Patriarch's son bowed his head and turned on his heel, taking his leave.
The nerve of that man. She could hardly believe it.
Story idea:
The daughter of Thrawn and a human is in a Victorian-esque love triangle with Thrufian's two sons.
I have a vision,
And it will probably never be realized.
Taking from Legends, Nuruodo is a family name. In this case it defines what we as humans think of, instead of a political family. A surname.
There is a planet near the Ascendancy, so close some would mistake it for being a part of it. Our world, Earth. During this time, it "discovered" by the Chiss and recognized as a colony.
Humans are as we know them, no remarkable traits, but with key differences from the Star Wars humans. They're thought to be cousins genetically.
The humans begin to integrate into Chiss society, though many are unhappy about it. The story focuses around the humans fight to be recognized as equals by the chiss. And their victory.
It also examines the joys and hardships of a interspecies marriage between a chiss and a human. And their eventual success.
I have one scene playing on repeat in my head:
It has been decades since humans first began the fight for equality, and progress has been made. The MC and her husband stand on a balcony in the Aristocra's Hall, with their three children behind them. All clothed in burgundy red.
An usher announces every being who enters the room. They are there to witness the induction of new merit adoptives into the Family. His loud and clear voice reads over their names on the list.
"Presenting, of the house Nuruodo, honored by the Great Family of Stybla,
"Raw'nuruodo, Grand Admiral of the Empire, Agent of the Acendancy.
"(Y/N) Nuru, Syndic of the Ruling Family of Mitth.
"Their sons, Mitth'icra'nuru, cousin of the Family, Junior Commander of the Chiss Expansionary Defence Fleet. And Mitth'ras'nuru, cousin of the Family.
"Their daughter, Mitth'aia'nuru, cousin of the Family, Lieutenant of the Chiss Expansionary Defence Fleet."
*Thrawn was sent to the Empire for 8 years, he was rewelcomed into the Acendancy as an Agent and retained his rank of Grand Admiral, it is a complicated ordeal. His wife, is Syndic Prime of the Mitth, and combined chiss and human tradition for her name. Thicran is their eldest son, and an officer of the CEDF. His sister Thaian, is three years younger and followed his footsteps to become an officer. Their youngest brother Thrasn, was named after their uncle, he was born ten years after his sister and is not of age at the events of the scene.
We need more Kit Fisto fics.
We need more Thrawn fics.
We need more alienfucker fics period.
Happy May the 4th everyone.
Whenever, Wherever - Shakira
Lucky that I love a foreign land for
The lucky fact of your existence
Baby, I would climb the Andes solely
To count the freckles on your body
Never could imagine there were only
Ten million ways to love somebody
Don’t mind me… I’m just appreciating Thrawn’s little freckles
No one asked for this, but...
This man growls:
Deep and guttural, it comes from the back of his throat and works it's way up. His entire chest rumbles, and his body tenses, his teeth bared at the one who angered him or challenged. Before stalking forward.
This man, hisses:
Like a cat or a snake, wide mouthed and incisors flashing. His torso leans forward, while his feet stay planted. He'll smile after, and his quary gains the faint sense that if he had the chance, he would go for the neck.
Actually I think it would be really funny if Thrawn makes contact with the CDEF and it’s fucking Roscu who ends up picking up the transmission. I just KNOW she would be like “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me you ASSHOLE!! What are you DOING out here I will blast you into oblivion for trespassing in Chiss space fuck you fuck you” and Thrawn is just “I’m glad to see you haven’t changed I’m however Please help me I’m stranded and last I saw Ar’alani she wanted me to report in. I’m trying to find her.”
Not even a name drop?
You fucking cowards!
I teased this in a comment the other day and I had to write it. Comedy isn't my usual style so we'll see how this goes!
The Meiloorun
Thrawn x gn!reader, established relationship
Warnings: suggestive content, implied NSFW
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At the edge of the galaxy was not where you had expected to find yourself, in some practically unnamed system on an even more undistinguished planet. The fact that it was a binary star system was the most interesting thing about it. But Grand Admiral Thrawn had received word that there was Rebel activity in the area and was dead set on investigating it, and you were a loyal servant of the Empire, furthermore of the Chimaera and you were deeply loyal to its commander. But still, you sighed, why did you have to be chosen for a mission on this planet?
The suns were scorching, blazing trails of heat that were visible to the naked eye, you were sweating, beads dripping off of your neck. Even though you were barely clothed, garbed in a "traditional" scrap that allowed the rare bursts of wind to slip through while the wearer was still, technically speaking, modest.
Why you were chosen for this mission, you had no clue. You weren't a ground trooper, your speciality was numbers, statistics, patterns, that sort of thing. Your presence here wasn't needed here. But who were you to argue with a Grand Admiral? Thrawn had requested your presence and you had answered. Of course you had.
And speaking of the Grand Admiral, he stood beside you now. A sand colored tunic clinging to his own blue skin, muscles straining against his rolled up sleeves, his colar bone bare and...you should not be looking at your commanding officer that way, even if he was out of uniform. Even if his biceps flexed like that. NO! Hey, stop it.
It didn't help that you were almost certain that he had positioned himself three steps behind you so that he had a...view.
Every so often when you glanced back, you saw his eyes trained on you. And when you turned away you could feel them burning holes in your back.
As unsettling as his gaze was at times, you couldn't help the warmth that spread through your abdomen. Or the memories of the nights before when he gazed at you with the same intensity. Your body spread out on his berth, his desk, his lap, pinned to the wall like some piece of art. A shudder ran up your spine, and when you turned your head to the side, peaking at him out of the corner of your eye, a smirk was working its way onto his lips. He knew what he did to you. And from the way he was moving the fingers on his ring hand, he was planning on demonstrating his skills some more later on.
No. You're on duty. You mentally told your rational side to shut up, but still turned your head away. And just as well, if you let your mind wonder down that path you would waste the whole day away thinking about your k'ein's'ehn. Your "beloved," or at least that's what Thrawn had told you it meant when he taught you how to say it. From the smirk on his face at the time, and the shock on Admiral Ar'alani's when he had first introduced you as it, you had begun to doubt that that was the true translation. But you liked the way it sounded, it had taken you hours of intruction to perfect the stuttering Cheunh word and you weren't going to let that practice go to waste.
And if you let your mind slip, you may miss a crucial detail in the sand city ahead that could help move this mission along faster, and let you get off of this scorching hell ball.
There wasn't a gate into the city. Not even a guard. There was a large sand and stone wall that surrounded their meager settlement. It wouldn't stop troopers you observed, but would stop, or at least slow down any raiders or wild animals this planet may have.
Stepping into the "city," you were suddenly overwhelmed with a series of sights, smells, and feelings. All around large square buildings made their home, carved out of sand and stone they looked like a part of the landscape themselves. They had small oval windows on the second floors, acting as ventilation shafts, taking in the wind that swept over the large barrols of water that litered the sides of every structure. The roofs of the houses were made simply of mud and loose straw. Along the edges of the road, stalls began to appear, and the smell of various treats began to waft up. The vendors yelling for you to spend a credit. There were too many places for rebels to hide for your liking, an ambush would be easy in this place.
Thrawn's face was calm, his stride still leasurely. But his right hand tapped on his thigh twice, and three unarmored stormstroopers slipped off into side alleys. You eyes narrowed, that gesture wasn't standard. In fact it was...your head snapped up, your eyes to his. Thrawn quirked an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as you glared. He continued to look around, his eyes sweeping over every inch of the area, his gaze lingering on the occasional murals They were light in colour, contructed of tiles and mosaics, faded with time it appeared that no one had redone them in years. Or perhaps just since the last sand storm. You didn't know what he saw in them, but you didn't question as he came to a stop in front of a large scene.
The scene was painted on what appeared to be a coral background, cyan and copper danced in swirling patterns, joined quickly by chiffon and ivory as a woman began to take form, clothed in a robe not unlike mine. Brief sparks of brighter color danced around her head and arms in starbursts. Other than the beauty of it, you could not discern any significance. You turned to move away, but were stopped by a sharp voice.
"One moment, Lieutenant Commander." You came to an abrupt stop, and swung around to face the alien. His right arm was crossed over his midsection, his left hand supporting his chin, as his glowing red eyes inspected the art piece before him, they were alight with a facination that only came to them when he studied art, the satisfaction that appeared when he had deduced a deeper meaning or solved a puzzle.
"Sir?" you stood waiting, your arms folded behind your back, your feet spread to shoulder width, your chin raised, and eyes looking towards him but not directly in his eyes. His own body shifted, his head turning to look at you. A smile graced his lips, the white of his teeth peeking out from the small slit. He gestured to the mural with one arching hand.
"Tell me what you see." It was your turn to quirk an eyebrow, so it was one of those times was it. Thrawn had an unsavory habit of testing your observational skills, and how far he deemed you had progressed since your first meeting. You turned once again to the mural, concentration crowding your face. Your gaze raked the art from corner to corner, but the longer you looked the less you saw, you grimanced.
"I just see a painting, sir." He stared at you for a long moment.
"What do you see in the painting, Commander?" You thought for a moment, your eyes flickering to the mural, sometimes all he wanted was the most obvious thing.
"I see a woman, she's dressed in their traditional garb." He nodded this time, progress at least.
"And below her?" Below her...
"Fields, sir. They appear to be wheat." The smile grew fractionally.
"Correct, but they are not just wheat. It appears that every major crop produced and native to this planet are depicted here." You glaced at the painting again, indeed as you looked closer you could see that the lines and vines differed from one another. But still,
"Sir, I don't see how this is relevant. We should continue on with the mission?" As soon as you suggested it, the smile dropped off of his face. He turned to stare at you with cold eyes. You had been under Thrawn's command for long enough to know not to question his judgement, but you were hot, and sticky, and desperate to get off of this planet as quickly as possible. So maybe you didn't say the best possible thing.
"Perhaps," his eyes flickered to a place far behind you, before resting on your face again. "Or perhaps you will learn to appreciate the insight that artists can provide." He set a quick pace, brushing past your shoulder.
"Come."
Your eyes found those of one of the stormtroopers behind you, his eyes had confusion written in them. He risked a quick shrug and you returned the gesture, before turning to follow the Admiral.
You found him halfway across the courtyard, approaching a vendor with grey skin and a long snout. In front of him, laid out in the wooden stall, was a bundle of meilooruns.
You quickened your pace, to come up beside him, listening as he began to barter with the alien man.
Meilooruns were not native to any of the systems even remotely near the sector. They would have had to be requested by a buyer and imported in. Wait, was that what he had been trying to get at? You cringed again. It was a known fact that the rebel Hera Syndulla had a taste for the exotic fruit. They were used more than once as a symbol of that specific faction of rebels, they were known to go to extreme lengths to acquire one. You grimanced at the memory of what the troops had dubbed the "Lothal Incident." Returning your mind to the present, you surveyed the area, but nothing else seemed out of place. Not at the moment.
Thrawn continued to bicker with the vender, from the rounded syllables, if you had to guess you would say that they were speaking in Meese Caulf. You made a mental note to begin learning the language after Thrawn had finished pounding Sy Bisti into you (litterally). The vendor slammed a meiloorun onto the counter and pointed at you sharply. You took a step back, startled and confused.
Thrawn glanced at you evaluating, and you leaned away from him as well. What was going on?
He made a "calm down" gesture with his hand, and spoke in a flurry of words. The vendor thought for a moment before placing another fruit beside the other, gently this time. Thrawn evaluated the meiloorun before looking pointedly at the other, and then at the vendor with a look that read "do you think I'm stupid?"
With a grumble the vendor replaced the bruised meiloorun with a new one, maybe slightly overripe, but delicious if eaten immediately. Thrawn nodded in approval and swipped the two meilooruns from the counter, and snipping a sharp word at the alien. It laughed and nodded vigourously.
You looked in confusion at the Admiral, he hadn't put foward any form of payment. As you puzzled, you felt a hand grasp your forearm. And Thrawn was handing you over to the vendor.
"Grand Admiral..." The alien roughly jerked you to the ground, and slapped a small chain around your ankle. You jumped up immediately, glaring at the alien. "Thrawn,"
He raised a hand and shushed you.
"Perhaps you'll learn not to disrespect your superiors after a time in slavery." He said it simply and left you gobstopped, your mouth opening and closing as you searched for the words to shout at him. He smiled, and produced a small knife from his pocket. Slicing a small bit of the orange fruit and bringing it to his lips he suckled the colourful juices, before he turned on his heel and began to walk away. He tossed the other meiloorun to one of the troopers, who stared at you with wide eyes before also starting to follow his Admiral. You gritted your teeth.
"Thrawn!" you bastard, you whispered under your breath, "Mitth'raw'nuruodo! Come back here!" he continued to walk away, raising his hand over his shoulder in a short wave, as the vendor laughed above you.
Not long after you heard the sound of blaster fire ringing out all around the square, and form adjoining alleys. A close flyby of the rebel ship the Ghost followed soon after, a squadron of ties on its aft. You bit your lip, and settled in, content to wait there until Thrawn had decided that you had had enough time to apporprietely learn your "lesson."
But he didn't come back.
Not until a few hours later when he sent a scout to retrieve you, and a few more meilooruns. It was implied that the meilooruns were the main mission.
In the midst of your berating that night you couldn't help but notice the mirth dancing in his eyes, as he took your scolding. And as he pulled you ontop of him and onto the bed, how could you not begrudgingly forgive him? Even with the fresh bowl of meilooruns on the bedside table.
You're still mad though. Just making that clear Mitth'raw'nuruodo.
Translations:
k'ein's'ehn: betrothed
I absolutely love the first one. He looks gentle, sad, knowing, satisfied, and in control all at the same time. Maybe a little bit of mirth there as well.
*gasp* There’s more of my favorite blueberry, not just half a face on a book cover :O
link
I saw someone spell Thrawn "Thron" and now I need Tron Thrawn.
Just imagine:
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