Chapter Text
"Honestly, I still don't understand the logic behind this," Governor Vanda commented, peering through the blinds covering her office window into the courtyard below, where a patrol of storm troopers was guarding the chiss officer who had been handed over to them a few hours ago. The alien was stoically enduring the midday sun, silent and not moving a muscle. His red eyes fixed in a spot somewhere before him.
"Neither do I, but right now I'm too busy sorting out the mess he caused that I don't have the time or energy to take care of any more business," mumbled Captain Syko, his gaze fixed on his datapad display
"And that's why you're going to leave him here with me?" Vanda pivoted, turning away from the window "Why don't you just... I don't know, just execute him and be done with it?"
Syko sighed, more out of exhaustion than anything else "We can't do that. That damn alien is a peace offering, if we kill him we'd be declaring war on the chiss."
"But isn't that the chiss responsible for the destruction of the Furor ?"
"Yes!" snorted the captain, setting the datapad down on the table with a clatter.
"Well, then I don't get it," Vanda sat on the edge of her desk, watching the captain. "The chiss say we entered their space, one of their ships engaged in combat with a star destroyer, destroyed it... and the chiss turned over the officer who was in command of their ship to us as a sign of non-animosity? What kind of perverse logic do these aliens follow?"
"These aliens are dangerous, very dangerous. You've seen what one of their medium sized ships is capable of doing against a star destroyer. But at the same time they are extremely protective of their borders. They don't step outside of them and they don't want anyone to trespass on them either. I imagine they have their own problems right now too, and that's why they don't want the empire to be one of them." Syko drained his drink and stood up, picking up the documents he had scattered across the desk. "I have to get back to Coruscant to explain to the high command why I lost a destroyer in a pointless skirmish."
"What do I do with him then? Is he a prisoner of the empire?"
"Technically... he isn't" Syko adjusted his cap and gloves. "I'm sure you will find a good use for him, but don't get him killed, understood?"
"Hmmm... okay"
They walked out of the office, towards the courtyard.
"What if he tries to escape?" she asked.
Syko smirked at her "He won't, you don't have to worry about that. He has been told to stay and he will. Although it will be advisable to keep him busy. Find a task for him."
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Three weeks later governor Vanda boarded her personal shuttle bound for Cantonica. "Why are we passing off this alien as a gift to Moff Lund?" Her aid, Sisi asked in an undertone.
Vanda sat down before she answered. "Because it is a pain in the ass," she said flatly.
"He..he is a pain in the ass," Sissi said patiently. The governor was always a bit....blunt when it came to non-humans, and with elections coming up they had to work on that.
"It has killed…” she sighed at Sisi giving her a warning look. ” He has killed several of my men over these few weeks. First I had him on guard duty but he hunted the other guards. Then kitchen duty but he had some interesting thoughts on knives. Then cleaning but I won't even get into what happened there."
Sisi knew all this, he had been the one to clean up these messes. "But why Moff Lund?" He asked.
"Because he has a menagerie, or some such thing. He collects interesting things. Fighters and such. Pits them against each other. If I can't kill this 'gift' I can re gift it...him." Vanda added at her aides glare.
"What if he gets killed in the pit?"
"Sisi, please! Haven't you seen these shows? The fights are mostly staged. Besides, he will have no problem, after the display of skill made so far. That thing... " Sisi cleared her throat. "Alien, that alien has a gruesome keenness for killing. They will tame him."
"Really?"
"Sisi, I don't pay you to be sarcastic. Now go tell the pilot we are ready"
Sisi stood up and went to the cockpit to talk to the pilot. On the way back he stopped where the alien was sitting. He was in the space between the cockpit and the passenger's quarters, in a makeshift folding chair, bolted to the side panel. He handed him a hot beverage.
The alien looked at it with his weird red glowing eyes, blinked, and then took the cup. Talking to him was of no use: he didn't speak basic, although he seemed to be learning it fairly quickly. Sisi hadn't heard him say a single word yet during the weeks he had been around, but he was always silent, watching.
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"I'm not taking him,'' Lund said flatly. “You types think you can just bring me any sentient and expect me to take them in and train them up."
He glanced at the blue alien who stood off to the side.
"He's a gift," Sisi tried again.
"That I can't kill off? How can I even put him in the ring then?"
"How about this," Vanda cut in. "Him against your toughest fighter. If he wins you take him."
"And if he dies?"
"Then that would be my fault then, wouldn't it," Vanda said.
Lund snorted and waved to his men to take the alien.
On the level below the room they were in, the arena lights came on. Vanda and Lund took seats in the main box, and Sisi stood to the side.
They had to wait about ten minutes, until a chagrian and the chiss, both wearing flexible training armor and combat sticks, walked in.
The chagrian nodded towards Lund, while the chiss was slowly looking around, taking in his surroundings. They were placed in their respective start points, fifteen steps apart, by the droid referee. The lights flashed and the combat started.
The chiss waited for the chagrian to make the first move. As soon as he took the first step towards him, the chiss sprinted, in a straight line towards him. The chagrian adopted a defensive stance, ready to block him and deflect his attack using his body mass; he was taller than the chiss, and wider too.
The chiss used his stick to jump, had his kick blocked by the chagrian and turned around swiftly in the air, he headlocked the chagrian, making him lose his balance. Using his stick he delivered two precise blows. A crack was heard.
The chiss rolled on the floor and stood up with a jump. His contender jerked on the floor, making a gurgling noise. He turned to his side and coughed a mouthful of blood.
Lund's eyes hardened and he spoke quietly to his guard standing nearby, "Send in three more."
Vanda laughed, “three more fighters? But you have lost! The alien is yours!"
"Where did you get it?" he grunted, watching as the referee droid stood before the fallen chagrain and two medics rushed towards him.
The chiss stood there, stick lowered, a slightly confused expression in his face.
The side door of the arena opened and three aliens walked in, equally equipped: a rodian and two quarrens.
The chiss' gaze went quickly from Lund and back to his new adversaries.
The rodian wasn't used to group fighting, he was the first one the chiss took down with two powerful stabs on the lower part of his back; then, placing the rodian's combat stick over his neck, the chiss kept him pinned down by stepping on it, choking him. He took a couple blows from the quarrens in the meantime, but that only fueled him.
Staying in his spot he moved quickly, swinging his stick in a volley of blows that repelled one of the quarrens, separating him from his partner. That was the chance he was waiting for. Leaving the gasping rodian on the floor, he lunged forward, dodged the block from the quarren and stabbed him in the neck with the blunt edge of his stick. Again, a crack and the gurgling noise was heard.
The second quarren roared and hit the chiss in the thigh, making him fall to his knees. The chiss snarled, gripped the stick and pulled him towards him.
They rolled on the floor, the combat sticks left behind, and the chiss delivered a series of vicious blows. The referee droid beeped and rolled towards them, in a vain attempt to separate them.
Thrawn allowed himself to be moved aside but he looked intently at the droid as it did so, as if he was confused by it.
Venda eyed Moff Lund. "Well, has he proven himself?"
Lund looked out over the pit, his eyes far away. "Yes, I suppose he has," he murmured.
He stood up, looking down at the bloodied chiss, who was looking intently at the droid, like he was about to attack it as well "Who are you?" he asked in a demanding tone.
"He doesn't speak basic." Sisi said "We were advised to use Sy bisti when communicating with him, but none of our translator droids knows it and we don't have a translator for such language."
Lund clicked his tongue in annoyance. He reached for the comm clipped on his belt "Den'turg, come see me in the arena," he turned towards the governor, who had a smile on her lips "Ok, where's the catch?"
"The catch? There is no catch?" Vanda smiled "Keep him. He will be good for your business."
Lund's com crackled and a voice came through. "Sir, I have Den'turg here in the arena for you."
Lund took one more look at Vanda. "Fine, I'll keep him. But I have a feeling I'm doing you more of a favor than you me." He walked off.
"Just don't kill him off!" Vanda called, smirking.
Lund waved her off as he disappeared around the corner.
There was Den'turg, his assistant, waiting for him at the arena entrance. The alien was opening and closing his four hands in spasm-like motions. He paced back and forth, muttering something in his native tongue while casting furtive glances at the arena and shuddering. " ko'k iblis... ko'k iblis... ko'k iblis... "
"Den'turg!" Lund called, snapping his fingers to get him out of the trance. "With me!" he walked in the arena. The medic and the nurse were practically running in circles, trying to tend to the four wounded at the same time. "Ask him..." He started to command and noticed he was alone.
Den'turg stood petrified in the corridor, he hadn't followed him. "Come here!" he beckoned.
His aide shook his head and took a step back, retreating further into the corridor. Lund frowned, he had never seen the yellow alien so scared. In fact, he had never seen him scared at all. He was always accommodating and servile, ready to obey his orders and follow him around like a shadow.
He backtracked and stopped by his aide. "What's wrong?"
" ko'k iblis... The blue demon" one of his hands pointed at the arena entrance "There is a blue demon."
Lund sighed and then pulled out his blaster and aimed it towards Den'turg. The red beam shot out and hit the rock face above Den'turg's head. The man ducked and looked at Lund in fear. A hush went over the room and all that could be heard was the whimpered breathing coming from Den'turg.
Lund's voice cut the silence. "Come. Here. Now" He said, deadly quiet.
Den'turg shivered, the paorik now more scared of his patron than of who was in the arena. He cowered, standing behind him, his dark eyes jumping in all directions, as if seeking cover or somewhere to flee.
"What is this nonsense?" Lund asked.
"The blue demon, patron" Den'turg said with a weak voice. A trembling hand signaled towards the chiss, who stood, immobile in front of the referee droid, his red eyes boring into it.
"That's a chiss," Lund sneered "What's the matter with them."
Den'turg clicked his tongue and muttered some words in his native tongue. "The chiss killed most paoriks, four centuries ago. They ravaged our home planet, Pao'ra. Only the ones who could escape on a spaceship lived. These blue demons are nothing but cruel assassins that will feed on the paoriks blood." He shook his head in fear. "Paoriks have no planet since that tragedy..."
Lund sighed. "I have no time for these nonsense legends. You do speak Sy bisti, right? Go and ask him his name"
Den'turg walked slowly up to the blue man standing in the middle of the ring. He was shaking like a leaf as he did so. He stood a bit away from the man. " Your name? " He asked in halting Sy Bisti.
The blue man cocked his head and looked Den'turg up and down before answering. "Mitth'raw'nuruodo," he said. His voice was quiet and strangely melodious.
"His name is Mitth'raw'nuruodo, patron." he said, taking a step back, increasing the distance between him and the chiss.
"Mitth'raw'nuruodo" the chiss said again, correcting him. Apparently the pronunciation wasn’t correct, despite it sounding the same for Den’turg.
"Yes, Mitth'raw'nuru..."
A sharp snarl from the chiss cut him off, and Den'turg whined.
Lund waved his hand in impatience "Mitth, yes, we get it"
The chiss ruffled his nose, his double set of fangs on display "Thrawn" he said.
"What did he say?" Lund asked.
Den'turg didn't answer. He was still breathing hard and twitching in fright.
"What did it say?" Lund snapped.
" I said my name is Thrawn, " the blue man said. " And I am not an it. "
"He says he is to be called Thrawn, and wants to be adressed as a he, not an it." Den'turg had already backpedaled enough to be by Lund's side, moving to hide behind him.
Lund froze Den’turg in place with a stern look "Compose yourself!" he hissed "So.. you understand basic?" he said to Thrawn, who was checking the injuries on his knuckles.
"I understand some"
"He says he understands..." Lund grabbed Den'turg by the shoulder of his robe and pulled him roughly to the front. His feet skittered on the floor and he cowered. "He understands some basic"
"You'll teach him" he ordered to the terrified paorik "And you, Thrawn. You will report to Lek'goz, the arena master, he will instruct you what to do." He looked around, A blanket was pulled over the inmobile chagrian, he was dead; the medic still struggled with one of the quarren, performing CPR. He sighed, and turned on his heel, leaving.
Thrawn was led through the halls of the facility. And in the process Den'turg learned a lot about the tall Chiss. He was still terrified of course but he learned that the Chiss had a bit of a primness to him that was the antithesis of his hardened warrior nature. He was taken to the showers and refused to bathe in front of anyone. He was brought to the mess and would not eat anything. He only looked at the stew with a faint look for revulsion. He sat on the cot he was assigned just looking at Den'turg until he finally curled in a ball and closed his eyes. Den'turg had a feeling he was not so much asleep but waiting to strike.
Den'turg lingered there for a while watching but Thrawn did not stir and he scurried away. Finally giving into his primal urge to flee such a 'legendary predator' he had been tasked to take care of. He left instructions for one of the droids to warn him when the chiss woke up.