Chapter Text
Title: From Csilla with Love (3/3)
Thirty minutes later, Eli found himself losing a knight and a rook. Mr. Red Patch, on the other hand, had lost both bishops as well as both rooks, and now he even lost one of his knights. Moreover, from the look of annoyance that flickered over the sapphire blue features it was becoming apparent that he expected Eli would be long defeated by now. Eli suppressed a smirk; finally the Chiss would get to know that there was more to him than the cute little package.
“It seems that I owe you an apology, Theliv,” Fuoror stroke his chin thoughtfully, acknowledging the loss of a knight.
Eli grinned. “One should not judge a book by its cover.”
Or so went the old Lysatran saying which lost its meaning once he had found himself offworld; the Galactic Empire stored all data electronically. However, a single look at the impressive bookshelf behind the Chiss told Eli that the idiom should naturally translate from Sy Bisti into Cheunh.
“Of course not.” Mr. Red Patch frowned. “The cover says absolutely nothing of its literary value. Who in the universe would judge a book by its cover?”
Or then, maybe not.
Eli chuckled. “Humans.”
The Chiss blinked, going completely still for a moment.
“That … does sound like something a human would do, I suppose, especially given your highly erratic, completely irrational behavior during the interrogation.”
Auch. A low kick.
“Which is why I find this...” The Chiss continued, making an absent-minded hand gesture in the direction of the chessboard. “So difficult to believe.”
In other words, he was losing.
“I do not understand,” Mr. Red Patch admitted, looking at Eli with a new pair of eyes. “You showed no display of strategy before. I and Admiral Ar’alani were wondering whether it was supposed to be a theatre of the absurd play but in the end we came into the conclusion that you were being sincere.”
Eli flashed him a small smirk.
“That’s because Thrawn told me simply to be myself and cooperate with your guys. Now I am using strategy.” He declared boldly as he claimed one of Fuoror’s remaining pawns.
Mr. Red Patch nodded.
“Yes. Yes, you are. An unexpected development.” The glowing eyes rewarded him with a long, penetrating look. “You are enjoying this match very much. You seem… Happy?”
A blue-black eyebrow cocked up.
“Thrilled? Delighted?”
Eli let out a cackle. “For beating the crap out of the guy who made me submit to his questioning for weeks?” He clipped, raising his chin high. “You bet I am.”
Fuoror merely smiled. “Check.” He said casually, threatening Eli’s king with his queen and a knight.
Eli bit his tongue, suppressing a wince. The sneaky son of a Chiss let him boast on purpose in an attempt to distract him! Fortunately he managed to get the king away from the Chiss’s grasp but it was at the cost of sacrificing his other rook. Damn. Not good. Not good at all. He needed to get rid of the Chiss’s queen. Fast.
He let out a deep exhale, calming himself down, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before planning his next move; the following ten minutes passed in silence, with the two of them quietly chasing after each other’s kings, deflecting each other’s checks.
“Have you ever played against Mitth’raw’nuruodo?” Mr. Red Patch raised his eyes from the game, steepling his fingers in front of his face. The gesture very much reminded him of Thrawn.
Eli shook his head. “No. Unfortunately I’ve never had the chance. You?” He prompted. “Have you even met?”
Fuoror kept staring at him so long that Eli thought the Chiss would never answer. “Yes. We served together in the past. In fact, I was present during the fiasco which led to his ultimate fate. To tell the truth, I expected I would be punished alongside with Mith’raw’nuruodo.”
The Chiss paused, staring intently at the chess pieces. However, it was clear from his expression that Fuoror’s mind was elsewhere. “Now, of course, Admiral Ar’alani’s suggestion and the final decision of the Ruling Council make perfect sense in hindsight.”
“You looked up to him, didn’t you?” Eli said.
He didn’t know what exactly Thrawn had done, only that it was a pre-emptive strike which the Chiss Ascendancy could never officially approve. Thrawn had carried out the dirty work for the Defense Hierarchy, and he had gotten himself 'exiled' in the process, a harsh but necessary measure to cut all official ties between him and the Ascendancy.
Fuoror slowly inclined his head.
“Naturally. He had been my commanding officer. You must understand, Theliv, the cold, inhospitable climate of Csilla has made us into a collective species. The mind of a Chiss suffers greatly when we find ourselves beyond the borders of the Chiss Ascendancy surrounded by outsiders. That is the true reason why the exile, and not death, is considered to be the greatest punishment among the Chiss.”
Fuoror turned his head in the direction of the bookshelves, staring blankly at the covers. “And while Mitth’raw’nuruodo has my deepest respects for making the most of his exile, I have no desire to share his fate … or Stent’s fate for that matter. But then, a Chiss who had found himself in his position had a very little to lose, I suppose.”
Eli frowned. He didn’t know the other Chiss; Thrawn had told him only that a group of rogue warriors led by a Chiss named Stent had joined Voss Parck's Task Force Admonitor, giving the birth to what Thrawn had called Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s Household Phalanx. Something told Eli that this Stent, too, had been kept unaware of the true nature of Thrawn’s exile. And it wouldn’t be Thrawn, naturally, if he didn’t make most of this mysterious Stent’s desertion.
“So you agree with the Ruling Council, then?” Eli’s eyes narrowed.
Could humans and the other beings of the galaxy ever become more than mere pawns in the eyes of the Chiss Ascendancy? Thrawn had elevated humans into members of his own House; slightly deviating from his secret orders by promoting his own warriors into more valuable chess pieces, however, at the end of the day, they were still his assigned chess pieces in a game he had been told to play.
“What do you mean?”
“You know very well what I mean, Central Commander.” Eli addressed Mr. Red Patch by his rank. “What the Chiss Ascendancy wants isn’t an alliance. It’s charric-fodder. If they wanted a true alliance, they wouldn’t have come up with such ridiculously secretive, overly complicated plan.”
Fuoror’s expression darkened.
“How dare you make such outrageous accusations after I had invited you into my home, human. Perhaps a night spent outside would teach you manners.”
The Chiss hissed, a strange reptilian sound. He looked as if he was about to leap up, grab him by his collar, and throw him out into the cold.
Eli jerked in shock.
Then abruptly, the Chiss let out a long, deep sigh, the tension in his posture slowly emanating from his body, the glow of the red eyes returning back to normal.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, Theliv.” Fuoror said after a full minute of awkward silence. “Now, after meeting a representative of your species, I highly doubt the current members of the Ruling Council agree with the decision their own predecessors had made. However, what has been done cannot be undone.”
Eli briefly wondered what the current Fifth Councilor, Aristocra Formbi, thought of the master plan when he had been first made aware of its existence, but considering their exchange in the main hallway, he doubted the word ‘conscience’ ever made it into the icicle’s Sy Bisti dictionary. Hell. The word probably never made it even into his Cheunh vocabulary to begin with.
“And as for Admiral Ar’alani…” Fuoror took a moment to gather his thoughts. “You are greatly mistaken in her, Theliv. Her heart is not made from ice, right on the contrary. You must understand her position… No. I don’t think you will ever be able to truly understand her position.”
There was an undertone of pain and something too alien for him to interpret.
“In any case, Mitth’raw’nuruodo can hardly be considered a victim of the Ruling Council’s decision. After all, it is a variation of his own rather controversial, unconventional approach on warfare.”
Eli let out a loud snort. “Thrawn never claimed innocence.”
“No.” Mr. Red Patch agreed wistfully. “He never did.”
Another long, awkward silence followed.
“What are you going to do with the new knowledge, Commander?” Eli decided to break the silence first, looking at the chessboard. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation he lost the desire to continue in this match.
Fuoror shrugged. “I would have learned of the plan sooner or later as I am to be the replacement of the elderly admiral you have seen.”
Eli blinked. “But if you’re about to become a member of the Defense Hierarchy...” His eyes darted over in the direction of the living room. “Then it means you will have to give them up.”
“Eventually. Yes.” Fuoror said in a tone full of regret. “However, the man you met is still fully functional. Hopefully he will not retire until my children come of age.”
“What is your collective malfunction?!” Honestly, Eli didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry. “What a wonderful promotion bonus.”
The glowing eyes gleamed dangerously.
“Enough,” Fuoror spoke in a tone belonging to a man who was used to giving orders and having them obeyed.
Eli closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. How did you met each other, by the way? If it’s permissible to ask, of course.”
The Chiss tilted his head to a side. “It was an arranged marriage, naturally.”
Eli winced, he couldn’t help it.
“Naturally.” He repeated dryly. “Have you ever … you know, have you ever done anything spontaneous in your life? Or have you always done as you were told?”
Fuoror frowned.
“The Chiss don’t do what they want, Theliv, they do what is expected of them.” The other countered immediately. His voice was sharp. Too sharp, in fact.
“Of course,” Eli nodded in agreement, “because if you did what you wanted then your whole society would crumble and fall apart.”
He thought of the sleeping children, so very alike human ones. When would the transformation take place? When would they be expected to start behaving like proper Chiss adults? Soon, Eli suspected. He wouldn’t be surprised if the teenagers were given the responsibilities of adults in an attempt to erase the teenage rebellious streak that all near-human races seemed to have.
“The Chiss, despite the impression I might have given you, are a thoughtful people. Deliberate, calculating, but not above a flight of fantasy or two. They are not averse to wondering where they would be, had life been different. Whom they would have met, how they would have met, what would have become of them.”
Eli regarded Mr. Red Patch for a while. “So what would have become of you had your life been different?”
“I have invited you into my home partially in an attempt to give you an opportunity to see us in a different light. A better light.” Fuoror said in a disappointed tone, deflecting the original question. “Clearly I have failed.”
Eli started putting the chess pieces back to the box; he had no desire to rub the salt into the wound by beating the Chiss down in the game. “Well, it’s rather difficult considering most of the time you guys behave as if you had no feelings. It can’t be good to suppress your emotions all the time.”
“Suppress?” Fuoror echoed faintly. “You are greatly mistaken, Theliv. We do not suppress emotions. We treasure them. We merely avoid behaving irresponsibly such as acting out of strong emotion.”
“Oh really?” Eli asked skeptically.
Mr. Red Patch made an absent-minded gesture toward the bookshelves. “We acknowledge our emotions by writing down how we feel. Memoirs. Poetry. Essays. Those who are gifted in visual arts paint pictures or create sculptures.”
“What a moment.” Eli stammered, his eyes flickering over the unfamiliar titles. It was all in Cheunh, unfortunately. He couldn’t understand a thing. “You’ve written all this?!”
Mr. Red Patch seemed uneasy. “Not all of them. Some were written by my friends and closest associates, some were written by my favorite professional authors. I am a mere hobbyist.”
Eli made a porg face. “Come on, I’m dying to read what you’ve written. You wanted to show the Chiss in a different light. Well this is your big chance.”
Come on, Mr. Red Patch. Come on.
The Chiss sat there for a while, his expression unreadable, until finally he gave Eli a shy nod. Slowly, sheepishly, he walked over to the bookshelf and took out one of the volumes, flipping a couple of pages, his face frowning in concentration as he thought hard of the approximate translation into Sy Bisti.
Before my bed there's a pool of light
I wonder if it's frost on the ground
Looking up, I find the moon bright
Then bowing my head, as I drown in homesickness(*)
Eli openly gaped at the Chiss; however, before he could think of a response, Mr. Red Patch snapped the book shut, and with that the brief excursion into what went behind the glowing red eyes ended before it even began.
“Good night, Theliv.”
Soundlessly, Fuoror closed the door to the bedroom and turned to face his wife; Eliara had already finished breastfeeding Chu and placed him into the cradle. “Are they all asleep?” She asked in a low tone of voice, careful not to wake Vio and Aha in the adjoining room.
Fuoror nodded.
“What does Mitth’raw’nuruodo think he is doing this time?” Eliara wondered, her azure blue face marring in a frown. She knew nothing of the human’s origins, naturally, and she knew nothing of what had transpired in the Ruling Council’s chambers. He would not tell her. He could not tell her. She was not privy to the military secrets.
“Mitth’raw’nuruodo knows exactly what he is doing,” Fuoror said gravely; he walked over to the bed, sat down on the mattress and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Eliara came from one of the colony words that belonged to the Path of the Houses, an inhospitable planet with an atmosphere harmful to the Chiss, but at the same time a world rich with mineral resources that the commoners mined for the society. It had resulted in a dark shade of her skin, much darker than the powder blue of the Csilla-born Chiss.
Far darker than his own sapphire blue skin, a byproduct of Naporar harsh climate. They both worked so incredibly hard to get accepted into their respective Houses, and entered a promising union so their descendants could grow up on Csilla among the elite.
The elite. He wondered, briefly, whether it would constitute a joke among the humans. Probably not. If so, it would be a very bad one, Fuoror supposed. No matter how hard he tried to understand Mitth’eli’vanto, the complexity of human humor still escaped him.
“The question is,” Fuoror said as he lowered himself next to his wife, pulling her into an embrace from behind; now that Theliv’s interrogation was over, it was entirely possible he would be recalled back to the frontier, and who knew when he would return back home.
“What is it that we are doing.”
THE END
Disclaimer:
(*) The poem featured in this fic “Quiet Night Thought” 靜夜思 was written by one of the most famous Chinese ancient poets, Li Bai 李白. This is one of the many English translations. An analysis of the poem.