This is my Big Gay Star Wars Fic, an AU where Eli Vanto joins the Rebel Alliance and helps them take down Thrawn, a WIP that's been stuck in my head for over two years. I wanted to explore what it means to still love someone after they deeply harm you, as told through two Star Wars ships I'm obsessed with. There's a lot going on here and hopefully it makes sense. Content Note: explicit m/m and alien sex
“This is Lieutenant Commander Eli Vanto, formerly of the Imperial Navy. I have information that could be vital to the Rebellion…”
Alexsandr Kallus sat up in his chair so fast he splashed caf on his shirt. Late night monitoring shifts in the Intelligence Department were usually tedious; countless hours spent listening to inane radio chatter between bored Imperial Navy officers and gulping down mediocre room temperature caf to stay awake. But every so often something interesting popped up. This message, however, was beyond interesting.
“Can’t discuss further on this channel. Rendezvous coordinates to follow…”
Kallus captured the message on his terminal and began scanning it for coordinates. Even with his decryption skills honed during his time as an ISB agent, it took much longer than expected. Vanto was clever — nearly as clever as his formidable commanding officer — hiding the coordinates under layers and layers of encryption. By the time Kallus finished the decryption, it was time for morning shift to relieve him.
“Still stuck on monitoring duty?” The familiar voice made Kallus clench his teeth. Cassian Andor leaned against the wall, regarding Kallus with amused disdain that didn’t completely mask the haunted look in his eyes. He was back from whatever mission Draven had sent him on this time and he looked even more haggard than the last time Kallus saw him.
“Draven doesn’t trust me with field assignments yet,” Kallus said matter of factly.
There was no sense in avoiding the realities of his situation. He was fortunate that the Massassi rebels had taken him in at all — credit for that went to Kanan and General Syndulla — and he was slowly accepting that he might never repair the damage he had caused in service to the Empire. He shook the thought out of his head, returning his focus to the task at hand.
“Anyway, as delightful as it always is to see you, Andor, I need to deliver some intel to Command.”
Kallus was halfway to the Command Center before he remembered the now-dry caf stain on the front of his shirt. His ingrained sense of decorum won over the urgency of the situation and he made a quick detour to his quarters for a clean shirt.
He quietly slid open the door and a pang of guilt hit him as he laid eyes on the large sleeping form in his bed.
Garazeb was sprawled out on his back, snoring softly, his face relaxed. Kallus had been surprised the first night they spent together that Garazeb’s snores were so soft; for some reason he had imagined the huge lasat would saw down a forest with his snoring.
Kallus temporarily forgot himself as he watched the slow rise and fall of Garazeb’s chest, the soft smile on Garazeb’s face where there was normally a scowl. The lasat was incredibly handsome.
Garazeb’s ears twitched and his eyes fluttered open, landing on Kallus. As always Kallus felt the urge to shy away from the naked affection that crossed Garazeb’s face in these unguarded moments. Why he of all people would look at Kallus that way…it made Kallus’s heart hurt. He didn’t deserve to be looked at that way, especially not by Garazeb.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come home when I said I would. I stumbled across an important transmission and I need to hand it off to Draven urgently,” he blurted out before Garazeb could say anything. “But I didn’t want to face Draven with this all over my shirt” He gestured to the caf stain, wrinkling his nose.
Garazeb pushed up onto his elbows, the bedsheets falling lower on his hips. Kallus felt his mouth go dry. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and resume their explorations from several nights prior.
This thing between them was still so new and fragile. The constant threat of death from the Empire meant that neither one of them was ready to examine the larger implications of their relationship. They found solace in one another between missions and for now that was good enough. Blowing off steam with someone who understands, Garazeb had called it.
“S’ok, Kal,” he rumbled, his voice sleep-hoarse, “I figured somethin’ came up and I didn’t want to bother you. Your bed’s more comfortable than my bunk on the Ghost anyway.”
He reached out right as Kallus was removing his stained shirt and pulled Kallus onto the bed. “Is it really that important?,” he rumbled against Kallus’s ear.
Kallus managed to squirm out of his shirt despite being half sprawled on Garazeb’s bare chest. The strong arms encircling his waist and the heady scent of Garazeb’s fur weakened his resolve, but only slightly. He pushed off and sat at the foot of the bed.
“Yes, it’s very important, Garazeb,” he sniffed.
Garazeb laughed. “I love it when you do that.” He reached out with one claw and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind Kallus’s ear. Stars, his hair was getting long.
“Do what?”
“Scrunch your face up when you think someone’s questioning your professionalism.”
“I do need to get this intel to Draven and the other generals immediately. It could turn things in the Alliance’s favor and, I have to admit, it may secure my place in the Intelligence Department.” He wasn’t sure which one was more important to him in that moment.
Garazeb’s eyes widened, suddenly very awake and interested. “That sounds serious, Kal. What is it?”
“Someone close to Thrawn wants to share information with the Rebellion.”
***Once Kallus and Garazeb — who insisted on joining him for the meeting — were in fresh clothes they gathered around the holoprojector in Command Central with the core leadership of the Rebellion. There were only two people he really needed to convince for this to work, though.
A laser-focused, glowering General Draven and a skeptical but intrigued General Syndulla watched as Kallus pulled up Eli Vanto’s dossier. The image of a fresh-faced man appeared in the air, brown skin, dark hair slightly longer than Imperial regulations allowed, an irrepressible smile in his eyes. Not at all what anyone who knew Vanto’s reputation would expect.
“A few hours ago I intercepted a transmission from a former Imperial officer, Lieutenant Commander Eli Vanto, claiming he wants to share intel vital to our operation. It is paramount that we treat this as a legitimate defection and collect him as soon as possible at the coordinates he provided in his message.”
General Syndulla raised one slender eyebrow at Kallus’s vehemence, nearly making him stumble over his words. But this was too important so he pushed through his nerves.
“Lieutenant Commander Vanto was the personal aide and confidante to Grand Admiral Thrawn for over ten years.” —the charged murmur that went through the small group was satisfying; he had their full attention now. — “They were…close. Romantically, if rumors are to be believed. ISB suspected and there was an open investigation but Thrawn and Vanto were too circumspect to leave useable evidence. Shortly before Thrawn arrived on Lothal, Vanto went missing. This is the first known transmission from him in over two years.”
“How do we know this is genuine and not another one of Thrawn’s schemes?” Draven asked. The other generals shifted uncomfortably. The Alliance fleet was still recovering from their last encounter with the Grand Admiral. Kallus knew they would be reluctant to risk engaging him again.
“This isn’t how Thrawn operates,” General Syndulla said, looking directly at Kallus as she spoke, “he’d be more likely to take prisoners for interrogation or attack us directly. If he did send a spy, it wouldn’t be someone this obviously connected to him.”
Kallus smiled despite the still fresh memories her remark dredged up — the scars from Thrawn’s torture ached with phantom pain across his body. It was rare that General Syndulla backed him up, and her support meant more than he was willing to admit to anyone.
“Precisely,” he said, “Another reason I believe Vanto’s offer is genuine is that he’s from Lysatra, a small world in Wild Space. Recent heavy Imperial incursions into that sector could provide motivation. We have plenty of operatives here who were moved similarly to join the Rebellion.”
General Syndulla crossed her arms and regarded the information on the holoprojector for a long moment, her lekku curling up slightly at the ends in a way Kallus had learned meant she was deep in thought. “General Draven,” she finally said, “I’d like to take the Ghost out to these coordinates. See if this Eli Vanto is what he says.”
Draven peered at her, clearly unhappy with the request. “General Syndulla, I know you are personally more familiar with Thrawn’s tactics than myself, but this could still very well be a trap. You and your people are needed here. I cannot risk you on such a mission.”
General Syndulla glared at Draven. “I know you are Massassi Outpost’s intelligence expert and I’m just a pilot, but it seems like intel from someone that close to Thrawn would be worth the risk. Besides, we’ve gotten out of worse traps.”
“Very well,” Draven said with the long suffering sigh of someone who knew it was futile to argue with General Syndulla when she was right. “Even if he isn’t what he says, bring him in. He could still be useful.”
Kallus suppressed a shudder. He was familiar with some of the harsher interrogation methods that Draven carried out despite opposition from the rest of Alliance leadership.
“All right, if that’s settled, “General Syndulla said, “Zeb, go get Rex. Kanan, Ezra, and Sabine still aren’t back from Mandalore and I need more hands. We’ll depart in two hours.”
“Permission to accompany the Ghost crew, sir,” Kallus said.
Both Draven and General Syndulla looked at him strangely.
Draven glared at him. “You’re still not cleared for field work, Captain.”
Kallus pulled himself up to his full height. “Vanto is taking a difficult step into the unknown, sir. Just as I did when I became a Fulcrum agent. It might help smooth things along to have someone present who understands his situation. Besides, what damage could I possibly cause while cooped up in the Ghost for four days?”
Draven gave him a wry smile. “It would give you some uninterrupted time with Captain Orrelios, no doubt.”
Kallus felt his own cheeks flush with embarrassment. He looked sideways at Garazeb whose ears flattened and hair rippled in the lasat equivalent.
When he looked at General Syndulla, she met his eyes with a mixture of concern and amusement on her face. They had already talked about this in an excruciating late night encounter in the Ghost’s galley.
Kallus had slipped out of Garazeb’s bunk to find something to eat. Their first night together had been…rather vigorous and he was starving. He hadn’t counted on the General also being awake, nursing a cup of caf while she studied starfighter schematics.
“I was hoping that wasn’t you I heard come back with Zeb,” she had said without looking up from the schematics. There was a warning in her tone.
Kallus had found himself suddenly rooted to the spot in the doorway, his hunger replaced by a cold brick in his stomach. Even when they were on opposing sides, Kallus had been impressed by the slight twi’lek woman’s ability to command and intimidate through sheer force of personality. She was a brilliant strategist, a skilled pilot, and an absolute terror to anyone who hurt her family. Family that included Garazeb and Kallus had hurt him enough for several lifetimes.
“Sorry to disappoint,” he had said with more bravado than he felt at that moment.
Syndulla’s head had snapped up and she glared at him. “You are the last person Zeb should be involved with.”
Kallus had felt his entire body sag. “I know,” he had said quietly into the space between them. “Believe me, I know.”
Her expression had told him she was surprised by his admission. “Then why?”
There was so much he had wanted to say to her about being lonely, about how a warm body wasn’t enough, he needed someone who understood their awful history and would hold him anyway. But instead he had simply said, “That, I’m afraid, I do not know.”
Kallus shook his head, bringing himself back to the task at hand. General Syndulla would never approve of his liaison with Garazeb — and Kallus still could not bring himself to disagree with her — but she was perhaps making an effort to be supportive.
He was vaguely aware of Draven saying something else. Then General Syndulla clapped him on the shoulder and said, “All right, Captain Kallus, see you on board.”
Eli Vanto set the shuttle’s controls to essential functions only. It had been two galactic standard days since he sent his transmission. He had no clue how much longer he would have to wait, or if the Rebels had even received his message. He could die out here.
He would die out here if the Rebels didn’t come to investigate. And really, why would they bother? Admiral Thrawn’s aide resurfaces two years after deserting the Imperial Navy, offering intel to the Rebellion. He wouldn’t believe it if he were them.
Enough time had passed that the reality of what he did settled uncomfortably on Eli.
He had absconded with a small shuttle and limited supplies from the Chiss Ascendancy, leaving a time-delayed encrypted message for Admiral Ar’alani explaining himself — he owed her that much. If his gamble didn’t work out, he would have nowhere to go.
He chose Thrawn over his loyalty to the Empire the day he went over the Ascendancy, and now he was betraying his oath to the Ascendancy, also for Thrawn, albeit in a twisted way.
But what other choice did he have? The Empire was no longer simply bringing order to the galaxy; they were subjugating whole systems, terrorizing civilians, stealing resources from vulnerable outer rim worlds. Thrawn’s role in all of it — if his intel was credible — made Eli’s heart ache.
He sunk deeper into the cockpit’s seat and drew his knees up to this chest in an effort to conserve body heat. His Defense Fleet uniform did little to keep him warm now that everything except the most basic life support was shut off. If the Rebels never showed up, at least hypothermia would be a relatively pleasant way to go. He nodded off, dreaming of all the stolen moments with Thrawn that never amounted to what either one of them wished for.
Thrawn picked Eli up like he weighed nothing, and Eli discovered he enjoyed that. He wrapped his legs around Thrawn’s waist as Thrawn pressed him against the bulkhead. They had once again dodged a court martial and were both feeling a little reckless as a result. An empty service corridor seemed like a good place to get reacquainted.
“I thought…” Eli gasped as Thrawn’s mouth found a sensitive spot on his neck. “…I thought we weren’t doing this anymore.”
“Do you wish to stop?” Thrawn rasped against his ear.
“I didn’t say that.” Eli twisted his fingers in Thrawn’s hair and pulled hard, tipping Thrawn’s head back so he could gaze into those glowing red eyes. “It’s just that I thought we agreed last time was, well, the last time.”
“I find your presence far too...necessary,” Thrawn said. He sounded wrecked, his expression vulnerable in a way he only ever allowed Eli to see.
Eli crushed their mouths together in a bruising, graceless kiss. There was a desperate edge to it that made Eli feel like his entire body was on fire.
Thrawn — who was much better at multitasking — continued to hold Eli up with one arm while he slid his other hand between them, deftly working Eli’s uniform trousers open. Eli buried a moan in Thrawn’s shoulder as those cool fingers wrapped around his cock.
He tried to buck his hips, but Thrawn had him thoroughly pinned against the bulkhead, so he just gave himself over to sensation, letting Thrawn squeeze him to the point of pain, the way Thrawn knew he loved it.
“Come on, get yourself out, wanna make you feel good too,” Eli said as he reached for Thrawn’s belt with a shaking hand. Thrawn growled and let go of Eli’s cock to swat his hand away.
Eli made an embarrassing noise at the sudden loss of sensation when he was so close to the edge, but as always Thrawn had a plan. He quickly freed his own cock and gripped it along with Eli’s in his hand, working them both together. Everything became a white hot blur, and then Thrawn captured Eli’s lips in another punishing kiss as they both came.
Afterwards, Thrawn eased a still-shuddering Eli back onto his feet and gently put him back to rights before tending to his own disheveled appearance. Despite their best efforts, Eli knew they both must look well-fucked.
“We should return to our ship separately,” Thrawn said, turning to leave.
“Wait,” Eli said softly, reaching up to smooth Thrawn’s hair back into place. Thrawn’s eyes briefly slid shut and he leaned into the touch. “Before we go back, there’s something you should know….I also, uh, find your presence necessary.”
Thrawn’s eyes widened ever so slightly — a reaction that all but screamed surprise to Eli — but he didn’t say a word. Anyone else would've read his expression as blank and detached.
“Ghost to shuttlecraft, this is Spectre Two, come in shuttlecraft.”
Eli bolted awake and scrambled to activate the shuttle’s short range radio. He had visual on the ship — much larger than his shuttle but still relatively small for a starship — hailing him. He raced through his mental catalog of rebel ships, counting the Ghost among the ones he’d come across during hours of listening to Imperial transmissions.
“Spectre Two, this is Lieutenant Commander Eli Vanto. I take it you received my message?”
“Loud and clear, Lieutenant Commander. Prepare for docking.” The ship was now close enough that he could see Spectre Two through the transparisteel: a green-skinned Twi’lek woman. Beside her was an old astromech waving its arms.
The Ghost quickly maneuvered overhead, blotting out everything else in Eli’s field of view. A metallic thunk let him know docking was complete. He climbed out of the top hatch into what looked like a small cargo bay and scrambled to his feet, wincing at how much his joints hurt after being cramped in a small shuttle for so many days.
Eli found himself staring up at an annoyed looking…lasat? He thought all the lasats had died out during that unfortunate incident on their homeworld. Those large yellow eyes regarded him with derision.
A polite cough brought his attention to the human at the lasat’s side, a man with shaggy blond hair and neatly groomed muttonchops who was nearly as tall as the lasat. “I’m Captain Kallus,” he said in a polished Coruscanti accent, “this is Captain Orrelios.”
“We’re here to take you back to the Alliance for questioning,” said Orrelios. His tone was gruff and impatient.
Eli nodded slowly. The only “questioning” he had any frame of reference for was what ISB agents did and he had never been comfortable with their methods. There was a reason the rest of the Imperial Navy feared them. The concern must have been visible on his face, because Kallus clapped him on the shoulder and said, “the Alliance will treat you fairly.”
Orrelios made a rumbling sound. Eli wasn’t sure if he was seconding Kallus’s words or disagreeing, but his expression towards Kallus looked almost…fond?
“Come on, Lieutenant Commander,” he said, laying sarcasm thick on Eli’s rank, “let’s get you something to eat and a bunk. It’s a long haul back to base. You picked a hell of a place to rendezvous.”
Eli found his words then, feeling indignant. “I apologize for the inconvenience, Captain Orrelios. I needed to find a rendezvous point close enough to reach in a small shuttle and it also needed to be outside of major shipping lanes so I could avoid pirates since I had to remove all weapons to avoid detection.”
Captain Orrelios made that rumbling sound again. Kallus bit his lip and looked sideways at Orrelios with a barely contained smirk. Orrelios rolled his eyes and gestured for Eli to follow him.
They made their way up to what appeared to be the main deck of the ship and into a cramped galley where a curved bench around an old dejarik table which appeared to serve as a dining-slash-meeting area. It reminded him of his family’s cargo ships, he realized with a pang of sadness. He wondered how they were doing under the stricter Imperial policies or if he’d be allowed to contact them.
Sitting at the far edge of the bench was the Twi’lek woman he had seen through the viewport. She was dressed in civillian pilot gear. Her green skin was even more striking up close, with lighter green markings down her lekku. Like all twi’lek women, she was stunningly beautiful. Her stature was small, but there was something sharp in her eyes that immediately gave Eli the feeling that he didn’t want to be on her bad side.
Her astromech was parked close to her knee; as soon as it saw Eli it shouted in binary and charged him, bumping his shins hard enough to nearly topple him. “Chopper!,” the twi’lek woman admonished, although she sounded more amused than anything. “He doesn’t like new people.”
Chopper beeped and honked in agreement, giving Eli another enthusiastic shove.
“He doesn’t like people he knows either,” Orrelios said, laughing at Eli’s attempt to right himself against the bulkhead.
The astromech, Chopper, ushered Eli to a seat on the other side of the dejarik table before he could protest further. Kallus and Orrelios piled onto the bench next to the twi’lek woman, sitting shoulder to shoulder with each other in a way that suggested long established familiarity.
“I’m Hera,” the twi’lek said, “Kallus and I had to push our superiors to let us come find you. I hope your intel is worth the trouble.”
Getting right down to business, no nonsense. Eli appreciated that. “I promise you it is,” he said.
“You’re not the first Imperial we’ve taken in,” Hera said, looking meaningfully at Kallus, “but you’ll have to be vetted before we can share anything more with you. It’s up to our superiors how you’ll fit into the Alliance’s plans. For now, you’ll be given fresh clothes, food, and a bunk on my ship. It’s a four-day journey back to our base. Zeb and Kallus will make sure you’re comfortable. I’m headed back up to the cockpit. Give me a shout if he gives you any problem, boys.”
She stood up gracefully and exited the galley with Chopper close on her heels.
Eli felt separated from his own body, not quite believing that he had done this. Now he was on his way to a Rebel base, possibly a wanted man by two militaries, and all he could do was hope that this was the right path.
***Kallus watched the man seated across from him.
Eli Vanto looked more world-weary than his dossier images. He was still a young-looking man but that irrepressible grin from the holos was gone. His eyes looked sad and far away, much like Kallus’s had no doubt looked when the Ghost’s crew brought him aboard after Atollon.
The choices made as an Imperial started to weigh on a person once they had learned the truth. Kallus didn’t have the heart to tell Vanto that the weight of those choices would never leave him.
Garazeb was rifling around in the refrigerator, making an awful racket. He never did anything quietly. From there Kallus’s thoughts drifted to a stolen moment behind a stack of crates in the hangar bay; their superiors had torn into them for that but it had been worth it. He didn’t realize he was gazing fondly at Garazeb until a polite cough from Vanto broke the spell. He brought his eyes forward to see Vanto regarding him with a peculiar expression.
“Found it!” Garazeb proclaimed to no one in particular, standing up with three small containers in his enormous hand. “Meiloorun jelly. Good stuff! The Boss always keeps it stocked.”
He tossed the containers and three spoons onto the dejarik table then squeezed back onto the bench, stretching his arm out to rest on the back of the bench behind Kallus, who instinctively leaned closer, leaning into Garazeb’s side as had become habit for him since they began whatever this was between them. Kallus was nearly two meters tall, but Garazeb’s considerably larger bulk made him feel small and protected, and in that moment he really didn’t care what Vanto thought of the display.
Vanto stared at them, his eyes wide and his mouth set in a grim line. “The…the rebels permit interspecies relationships?” he murmured.
“Yeah, I hope that’s not a problem for you,” Garazeb said in a threatening tone as he handed one of the jelly cups to Kallus. Kallus placed his hand on Garazeb’s arm to calm him.
“Not a problem,” Vanto said softly, staring at the meiloorun cup in his hands. “Just a surprise. The Empire…didn’t allow it. Still doesn’t, I imagine.”
Kallus and Garazeb exchanged glances. Kallus decided to take a gamble at something.
“ISB was particularly strict about it,” he said.
Vanto cocked his head to the side in a way that was eerily similar to Thrawn when a puzzle piece of information slotted into place. “You were ISB?”
Kallus nodded. The all too familiar look of fear on Vanto’s face cut straight through him, making him not for the first time regret the decision to be honest about his past.
“And you defected because of him?” Vanto gestured at Garazeb with his meiloorun cup.
Kallus looked at Garazeb, his expression softening. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”
Vanto opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it just as quickly. His frown deepened and he looked off to the side with a sad expression. “I never had a problem with it,” he said after a long pause, looking directly at Garazeb.
Kallus decided to keep pushing. “So the rumors about you and Grand Admiral Thrawn were true?,” he asked, already knowing the answer. Vanto’s reaction was what he expected, but it still hurt to witness it.
Vanto threw back his head and laughed bitterly. “Sure were, but not in the way you probably think,” he said, vowels lengthening in a pronounced Wild Space drawl, “On and off since we were at Royal Imperial together. I guess it’s good to get it out in the open since apparently everyone knew. ”
“Rumors are not the same as confirmation,” Kallus corrected.
“Gods, you sound like him,” Vanto shot back.
Kallus felt a surge of anger at the comparison, but he quickly tamped it down. Garazeb gently squeezed his thigh under the table.
“Sorry,” Vanto said, clearly noticing Kallus’s reaction. “Did you know I deserted the Empire because he asked me to? And now he’s gone off the kriffing deep end. I’m sure you’ve had some run-ins with him already.” — he paused again, brow knitting in thought as he chose his words.
“See, the thing is, the Defense Fleet’s long range sensors are top notch, better than the Empire will develop in our lifetime. I’ve seen what he’s done since I left. I’ve seen everything the Empire has done these past few years. That’s not the Empire I signed on to serve…or maybe it is and I just didn’t see it till now. What I’m trying to say is I know how he thinks better than anyone. I can help you get one up on him. That’s why I threw everything away to come here. Y’all better make it worthwhile.”
Sometimes all it took to get information was to catch your asset when they were sleep-deprived and emotionally fragile, and for that Kallus was thankful.
When Eli finally collapsed onto the bunk provided for him, it was late according to the ship’s chronometer. The mattress was lumpy and unforgiving, but he was too exhausted to care. He knew that he needed to consider the seriousness of this situation, what he was going to tell Rebel Alliance Command once they reached their destination, wherever that was.
But his mind kept returning to Thrawn, and the free and easy affection he had witnessed between Orrelios and Kallus. He and Thrawn could’ve had so much more than their furtive liaisons if they had cast their lot with the Rebels, he realized with a pang of sadness.
Leaving the Empire behind for the simple pleasure of holding Thrawn’s hand in public would have been an easy decision for Eli — hell, all it had taken was a request from Thrawn for him to throw away his entire career, so why not join an entire Rebellion? He wondered if Thrawn would have felt the same.
No, Thrawn would’ve given him a lecture about duty and maintaining order. Rebellion was chaos; tyranny was a small price to pay for order. There was a time when Eli would’ve agreed, but not anymore. Something about throwing his entire life away brought out the romantic in him.
Kallus had kept him talking for hours, expertly driving the conversation while Orrelios just sat there with a glower on his face. Eli knew it was an interrogation disguised as a friendly conversation, but he was there to share information and it felt nice to talk to another human for the first time in years, even if Kallus’s upper level Couruscanti accent brought back unwanted memories of those three months at Royal Imperial Academy.
Kallus had mostly been interested in the nature of Eli’s relationship with Thrawn. He had forced himself to share every detail Kallus asked about, despite the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that all of it would eventually be leveraged against Thrawn.
That was why he had contacted the Rebellion. It was the right thing to do.
If he kept telling himself that, maybe the guilty feeling would go away.
He sighed loudly into the empty cabin, looking up at the colorful graffiti covering the bulkheads and ceiling — he huffed a laugh when he saw the colorful portrait of Kallus and Orrelios in one corner.
It was useless to have regrets at this point. He had put himself in opposition to Thrawn the second he broadcast that message to Rebel command. Whether they brought him in as an asset or a prisoner was yet to be seen, but he was committed to the path. If a former ISB agent like Kallus could find a place in the rebellion maybe there was hope for Eli.
It was well-known that ISB agents were the most ruthless, ethically compromised people in the Empire, given free rein to do whatever it took to expose traitors. They were regarded as a necessary evil to preserve Imperial authority. Eli hated the times he was forced to work with their leader Colonel Yularen because Thrawn decided it was politically expedient — Eli laughed, remembering how bad Thrawn was at Imperial politics.
So how did an ISB agent find a place as a trusted member of the Rebellion? And what made him shake off all that training and betray the Empire? It couldn’t just be his obvious feelings for the lasat. Or maybe it was. Eli himself had turned his back on the Empire without hesitation because Thrawn had asked it of him.
Love made people do reckless things. Stupid things.
He rolled over on his side and stared at the dull gray bulkhead, letting his mind wander to the night after he was promoted to Lieutenant Commander.
Thrawn smiled softly at the Lieutenant Commander’s plaque onto Eli’s uniform, his eyes drifting up to hold Eli’s gaze. To anyone else in the room, the Admiral’s face was inscrutable, but Eli had learned a long time ago how to read Thrawn’s expressions and this was one he usually reserved for when they were alone. Eli’s face heated at that thought, and it took all of his military discipline to not squirm under Thrawn’s attention.
A sizable crowd of Navy officers, senators, and planetary governors that usually attended these things had gathered for the reception. Eli knew it was entirely for Thrawn, who had become somewhat of a darling to this set for his rapid rise through the ranks. That didn’t stop Eli from breaking out in a very un-military grin. After years of being passed over due to petty political reasons, he was finally a Lieutenant Commander with orders to join his Admiral on the ISD Chimaera.
He made the rounds, thanking political supporters and shaking hands with officers who had previously treated him like bantha shit but now saw the advantage of kissing his ass. He was better at this dance than Thrawn, but not by much.
“Allow me to once again offer my congratulations, Lieutenant Commander,” Thrawn said, appearing at Eli’s side with two glasses of Chandrilan sparkling wine. Their gloved fingers brushed as he handed one glass to Eli and Eli felt his face heat at the touch. He met Thrawn’s eyes to see that soft smile once again.
“Thank you, Admiral,” Eli responded, careful to mirror Thrawn’s formal tone.
“I acquired a bottle of Corellian brandy should you prefer something stronger once this gathering subsides.” Thrawn pitched his voice so that only Eli could hear the invitation. That soft smile had morphed ever so slightly into something more intentional.
“That sounds wonderful, sir.”
Eli felt his whole body suffuse with heat. It had been months since they were able to steal a moment alone. The sparkling wine, his giddiness at finally receiving his promotion, the anticipation of where this night was headed all coalesced, causing him to let his guard down, and a laugh bubbled up from his chest.
Thankfully, the rest of the crowd were also well into their drinks and besides, it was expected for an Admiral and his long time aide to have a somewhat informal working relationship. Still, Thrawn tilted his head in a cautionary expression, prompting Eli to collect himself.
The party didn’t die down for several more hours. By the time they returned, it was already night shift. An Admiral’s aide accompanying said admiral to his ready room in the middle of the night was nothing out of the ordinary, but it was still nice to not encounter any crew along the way. They conducted most of their trysts in Thrawn’s ready room because it was the one place on the ship where their working relationship provided the best cover.
Not for the first time, Eli wished they could have a normal romantic relationship — as if a romantic relationship with Thrawn would be anything approaching normal — free from the Navy’s fraternization policies and the Empire’s laws against interspecies mingling.
Thrawn had never proclaimed any greater feelings for Eli beyond sexual attraction, but the fact that he was willing to risk dishonorable discharge and imprisonment for this thing between them spoke volumes. It was, most times, the only declaration Eli needed from his lover, but on nights like this when alcohol had lowered his guard, he found his mind wandering to what-ifs, making him needier than usual.
They slipped into Thrawn’s ready room and Eli barely registered the lock seal engaging before Thrawn pinned him against a bulkhead. He knew the display of strength was intentional, meant to remind Eli that Thrawn’s submission during their interludes was a choice. Maybe Thrawn would let Eli hold him down like last time.
“You look most becoming in your dress uniform, Lieutenant Commander,” Thrawn whispered against Eli’s ear, drawing out the title in a way that made Eli shudder. “I’ve been looking forward to properly congratulating you.”
It was such a cheesy innuendo, especially coming from Thrawn. Thankfully, the walls were thick enough here that Eli could toss his head back against the bulkhead and laugh. Contrary to what the rest of the crew believed, Thrawn did have a sense of humor and he picked the weirdest times to show it.
His laugh turned into a moan as Thrawn dropped to his knees and made quick work of Eli’s trousers, taking his cock in his mouth without preamble and working him to full hardness. Another advantage to doing this in the Admiral’s ready room was they could, within reason, be as loud as they wanted.
Eli threaded his fingers in Thrawn’s silky hair and tugged sharply the way he knew Thrawn liked it, eliciting a hiss that vibrated down his cock. His knees started to buckle, but Thrawn dug his fingers into Eli’s hips to hold him up. Then Thrawn did something with his tongue that made Eli’s vision white out as pleasure shot through every centimeter of his body.
When Eli came to, Thrawn was still on his knees, disheveled hair in his eyes, looking up at Eli as he tucked him back into his trousers. They gazed at one another for a long while. The only sound in the room was the two of them breathing heavily.
Thrawn stood up and wiped Eli’s come from his lips with one thumb, then licked it off like he was savoring a rare dessert, his red eyes boring into Eli as he did. He held himself with perfect detached elegance, knowing damn well the effect it had on Eli.
Eli was more than happy to give the Admiral what he wanted. He lunged, crowding Thrawn up against his desk until he was nearly bent backwards over it. He kissed and bit his way up Thrawn’s neck.
“Stay with me tonight,” Eli rasped against his ear. “Let me take my time for once.”
Thrawn placed a hand on Eli’s chest, not to push him away but to put enough space between them so he could think. He inclined his head the way he did when considering combat strategy. “You know that is not a wise course of action.”
“But if it was?”
Thrawn paused for a moment. “Then yes, I would.”
Eli was certain he heard the same longing in Thrawn’s voice. He buried his face in Thrawn’s shoulder to hide his reaction even though he knew Thrawn could read it in his body language. He felt Thrawn’s arms tighten around his shoulders. They stayed that way for a long time, as if they each were waiting for the other to let go first. Thrawn smelled of sweat and Imperial Navy-issued soap, his cooler skin soothing against Eli’s cheek.
Eli flopped onto his back and slammed his head into the lumpy pillow. That had been the one and only time he had asked Thrawn for more and the possibility that Thrawn had wanted the same still stuck like a knot in Eli’s chest. He had gone to the Ascendancy knowing the probability of them ever meeting again was low. Now it was inevitable that they would meet again, but on opposite sides of this conflict.
Eli didn’t trust himself to do what was necessary when that time came.
Kallus stripped down to his undershirt and shorts, and stretched out next to Garazeb in their shared bunk. He gave silent thanks that Ezra was still off doing whatever it was he was doing on Mandalore and not heckling them from the top bunk as had become his habit when Kallus spent nights on the Ghost. They laid on their sides facing each other.
“Vanto’s feelings for Thrawn are going to be a problem,” Kallus said. He just wanted to lose himself in Garazeb’s large yellow eyes for a few hours, but their conversation with Vanto weighed too heavy on his mind.
“A problem for the Alliance or a problem for you?” Garazeb asked gently, running a finger along the scars on Kallus’s arm that were a permanent reminder of Thrawn’s handiwork.
Kallus huffed in reply. Garazeb was, as usual, able to read him better than anyone else, and he hated it as much as he loved it. “Both, possibly. What would possess someone to care for a person like Thrawn? He’s responsible for so much death.”
Garazeb raised an eyebrow at him and Kallus felt his heart sink. He flopped onto his back, knocking shoulders with Garazeb because the bunk wasn’t nearly big enough for the two of them, and sighed, “I deserved that.”
Garazeb propped himself up on one elbow and glowered down at Kallus. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.” Kallus focused his gaze intently on the durasteel frame above them. Sometimes being petulant was easier than acknowledging the truth, which in this case was that he had participated in an unforgivable atrocity committed against the person who currently chose to share his bed.
“Kal…” Garazeb said in that soft voice that made Kallus’s stomach flutter. He reached out to push a strand of hair from Kallus’s face. He was always fascinated by Kallus’s hair.
Kallus pushed Garazeb’s hand away and sat up, turning his back to the lasat and nearly smacking his head on the durasteel in the process. “Stop it.”
Garazeb snorted and rolled onto his back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “We’ve had a good few weeks, you know. Just enjoyin’ each other’s company. Not over-thinkin’ things.”
Kallus looked over his shoulder at Garazeb. “That is an untenable longterm strategy for a whole host of reasons, and you know it.”
Garazeb raised that eyebrow again. “You lookin’ for something longterm here?”
“I don’t have any right to ask that of you,” Kallus answered truthfully, hating how broken his voice sounded. He focused intently on the cabin floor.
There was a long stretch of silence in which Kallus didn’t dare look back at Garazeb. He thought about just leaving and bunking in the galley — the bench was comfortable enough in his experience — but his legs wouldn’t move.
“No, you don’t,” Garazeb finally spoke, “hey, come here, look at me.” He gently tugged at Kallus’s arm.
Kallus allowed himself to be coaxed back onto the bed, once again on his side facing Garazeb. He tentatively ran a hand through the soft fur on Garazeb’s bare chest.
“I know this doesn’t make sense,” Garazeb whispered into the small space between them. “Sometimes I really don’t want to feel this way about you, but I do. Let’s just leave it at that for now, yeah?”
Kallus didn’t trust himself to speak on it so he just nodded. The honesty of Garazeb’s words stung and comforted all at once.
Garazeb placed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then to the edge of his jaw, then his neck. Kallus’s entire world shrank down to that sensitive spot just behind his ear as Garazeb gently flicked his tongue over it.
Kallus rolled onto his back, pulling Garazeb on top the way he preferred. He didn’t waste any time digging his fingers into Garazeb’s hips and grinding up into them. If he couldn’t have all of Garazeb, he could at least have this, which was enjoyable enough.
***It was easy enough for Zeb to distract Kallus — and himself — with a few well-placed kisses. Humans had a weak spot right behind their ear that made them sigh and melt into him.
There were conversations they still needed to have and this was the closest they’d ever gotten, but Zeb wasn’t in the mood for Kallus’s totally useless self-loathing. Not when they finally had privacy — or at least what passed for privacy on the Ghost — and nowhere pressing to be. He could get his hands on Kallus the way he wanted to.
Kallus was big for a human, tall and broad shouldered with powerful muscles. Zeb didn’t need to hold back the way he had with previous human lovers. It made for a fun time if he could push down the memories of their history, of what Kallus had done.
Zeb let Kallus position them the way he liked with Zeb laying on top of him. He wanted to be overwhelmed and Zeb was more than happy to oblige. He buried his face in Kallus’s shoulder, nipping at the sensitive skin there and relishing each whimper he drew from the human. They pushed and pulled each other’s clothes off, nothing graceful about it, until they were naked.
Zeb pushed up on one elbow so he could rake his barely extended claws through Kallus’ chest fur. Another thing he enjoyed about this human in particular. Humans were generally smooth-skinned but Kallus was blessed with ample body fur, and it felt so good to let his claws catch in it. Kal arched up into the touch, rolling his hips at the same time, grinding up into Zeb’s now-unsheathed cock.
“Garazeb, please,” he whined.
Zeb grabbed Kallus’ wrists and pinned them above his head as he gave Kallus the punishing grind he knew he wanted. He buried his face in Kal’s neck to muffle his own cry at the intense sensation.
***Eli stared pointedly at the ceiling, trying with every fiber of his being to ignore the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping against flesh.punctuated by occasional shouts in a language he didn’t recognize.
Why did they put him next to Kallus and Orrelios’ bunk?
He had drifted into restless sleep and once again dreamed about Thrawn. His mind had been hellbent on playing a highlight reel of their years together starting with that first meeting on the Strikefast when Thrawn said “You hold my words in your hands” and Eli had known deep in his gut that he was so screwed. No one had ever treated him like he was important, but there was this tall, proud chiss — straight out of his home world’s legends — admitting plainly that he needed Eli.
The dream had skipped forward to their first kiss, playing it out in slow motion: that tentative brush of hands as Eli leaned in to point out something on a datapad, the barely audible hitch in Thrawn’s breath, gazes held too long until they leaned in, those intense red eyes focused on his lips. It was like something out of a stupid holonovel.
Then the racket from next door woke him up, so here he was willing his ears to shut off and failing miserably.
He finally gave up and climbed out of bed, throwing on his Defense Fleet tunic but not bothering to button it up as he exited his cabin. No one said he was confined to quarters and there had to be somewhere on this small ship where he couldn’t hear Orrelios and Kallus going at it like a couple of mynocks.
He’d been too exhausted and overwhelmed to properly get his bearings earlier, which meant he of course took a wrong turn right into the cockpit.
The first thing he noticed was General Syndulla curled up in the pilot’s chair asleep, a holo-pad communicator clutched in one hand. That angry little astromech of hers was blessedly powered down in its recharge station.
The next thing he noticed, unfortunately too late, was the very much awake man in the co-pilot’s seat glowering at him. He was bald and stocky with a bushy white beard and sharp eyes that looked disturbingly familiar for reasons Eli couldn’t place. “Can I help you?”
Eli found himself stammering like a first year cadet. “Sorry, I uh, needed to stretch my legs and I must’ve, uh, got lost.”
The man shook his head. “You’re the one who’s supposed to help us take down Thrawn and you can’t even find your way around a tiny ship? Vanto, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Eli said, ignoring the dig at his competency even though it annoyed him. “And you are?”
“Name’s Rex. I’m Hera’s acting second in command.”
An awkward silence fell between them, filled with Hera’s soft snores. He kept his gaze focused on the stars, their configuration comforting. The Ghost would pass close by Lysatra on its current trajectory.
It had been over ten years since he last saw his parents, only slightly less time since he last spoke with them over the holonet. That conversation had not gone well, his parents disapproving of his new career track, as if any of it had been his choice in the beginning. He wished he could see his parents now and tell them everything.
“Is it true you spent time with Thrawn’s people?” Rex said, finally breaking the silence and causing Eli to startle.
“Yeah…they’re called the Chiss.”
“Are they all like him?”
Eli snorted despite himself. “No, thank the gods.”
Rex laughed heartily, disturbing General Syndulla out of her sleep. She blinked a couple of times, then glared at Eli. “What are you doing up here?” she demanded.
Eli shifted uncomfortably. Before he could speak up, Rex started talking. “Kid’s just stretching his legs, boss. Can’t expect him to sleep sharing a bulkhead with Zeb and Kallus.”
“I don’t know when my ship turned into a shelter for Imperial strays,” the General said, rolling her eyes. She leveled her gaze at Eli. “Do you know how to fly a ship?”
“Wouldn’t even know what buttons to push,” he said truthfully but shrugged and gave her a lopsided smile to hopefully put her at ease.
“Then I guess you can stay up here,” she said while raising a skeptical eyebrow at him.
Another, even more awkward silence descended on the cockpit. Eli thought about returning to his temporary quarters before General Syndulla asked the question that was obviously on her mind.
“Were the rumors about you and Thrawn…” she started. Too late.
“Yeah,” Eli said, staring resolutely at the stars while he wondered how many times he would have to answer that question, “all the rumors were true.”
Rex let out an impressed whistle, but had the good grace to look apologetic when General Syndulla glared at him. The look she gave Eli, though, was sad; it reminded him of the way his mother would look at him when he’d gotten himself into trouble and she couldn’t help him.
“Thrawn wasn’t always like…well, like how he’s been lately. He was a kind, fair commanding officer and we…nevermind. I promise it won’t be an issue for me, General Syndulla.”
“Don’t say that unless you’re absolutely sure,” she said.
Rex reached up and clapped him on the shoulder. “Kid, if you’d seen what he did to us on Atollon you wouldn’t be so quick to defend him.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Eli said, his voice cracking, too loud, like he couldn’t control the volume anymore. He took a deep, calming breath and straightened his posture. “I’m sorry, General, Captain. I really want to help. This is just harder than I expected it to be.”
“Just wait until we hand you over to General Draven, kid,” Rex said. Eli didn’t know who that was but a chill ran down his spine nonetheless.