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As Admiral Thrawn and Lieutenant Commander Eli Vanto were leaving the shining transparisteel edifice that was the ISB headquarters, the young aide was struck by just how predictively repetitive their visits were becoming. Thrawn and Colonel Yularen would exchange what limited new information they had on Nightswan with very small conclusions reached, and then they would leave. Honestly, the two officers probably spent more time in the building in security screenings than they did actually working to unravel the mystery of what was slowly becoming their arch-nemesis. Still, Thrawn never seemed to feel that these visits were a waste of time, which Eli had learned meant that there had to be some value in them.
Their speeder was whipping by the constant stream of cloudcutters when it took and unexpected turn. Eli had thought they were on their way back to the Chimaera, but they were clearly going the wrong way now. Perhaps sensing his aide’s confusion, Thrawn turned to him to give a small smile.
“No, we will not be returning to the Chimaera just yet. Colonel Yularen made mention of an antiquities shop I would very much like to pay a visit to,” he said. Eli was about to respond when Thrawn raised an eyebrow. “It was when you were out of the room fetching a cup of caf.”
Eli sighed in response. Yes, somewhat frustrated with their lack of progress, he had volunteered to get the three of them caf. There was only one other person in line, a tight-collared blonde woman whose very professional and competent demeanor reminded Eli of someone that he couldn’t place.
The speeder ended up landing in front of a fairly unassuming storefront, completely open for any window-shoppers to take a glance inside. Even the door was made of rotating, semicircular panes of transparisteel, as if the owners couldn’t bare the thought of anything blocking their view of the outside world and vice versa. Being on one of the higher levels afforded the gallery an abundance of natural light, giving the place a very simple feel. This, of course, was contrasted deeply by the sheer sense of how prohibitively expensive all the items inside likely were. They were greeted by a very congenial concierge who then excused herself to fetch the proprietor of the gallery. A jovial-looking, older man emerged from the back, his fingers adorned with many ring and his face adorned with a toothy smile.
“Welcome, welcome. It’s not often that we are patronized by distinguished members of the Imperial military such as yourselves. How can I be of service today?” he asked, the smile never leaving his lips. Eli glanced back and forth between the two, trying to recall the techniques Thrawn had taught him for reading opponents. Not that these antique dealers were opponents by any means, but practice was never out of the question when it came to Thrawn. Their general posture and facial expressions displayed an open sense of hospitality, but some detail seemed out of place, didn’t fit into the whole picture.
Thrawn glanced sideways at Eli. “We simply wished to peruse, I have a passing interest in art and antiquities and your establishment came highly recommended by an acquaintance,” he responded. The corner of the antique dealer’s mouth dropped for a fraction of a second before returning to its previous orientation.
“Well, good word of mouth is always pleasant news. You’ll have to tell me who I’ve sufficiently impressed, Admiral…”
“Thrawn,” the Chiss finished, quickly looking down to his rank insignia plaque. “I’m afraid his name escapes me for the moment. Perhaps it will come to mind later. And you are?” Once again, the older man’s smile dipped briefly.
“Rael, Luthen Rael. If you’re not looking for anything specific, why don’t we start over here, I’m sure a military man such as yourself would find interest in an Echani foil,” Luthen said, gesturing to an ancient sword on display on the left-hand wall. Thrawn nodded and turned to the concierge.
“Miss…”
“Kleya,” she supplied.
“Kleya. Would you please work out the delivery details with my aide in the event I decide to purchase a piece?” Thrawn asked, giving one of his thin smiles, one which Kleya returned. Gesturing Eli over to a counter on the opposite end of the gallery, she pulled out a datapad. Per Thrawn’s instructions, he told her how and where the admiral typically received couriers for his artwork.
“That is an interesting accent,” Kleya said once she finished taking the information down. “I imagine you’re a long way from home, somewhere on the frontier, Wild Space?” Eli fought the urge to roll his eyes. Even after all these years, he was still encountering people who made it a point to comment on his origins. And it was always Core Worlders.
“Lysatra.”
”A very long way from home. You must be quite a patriot to give your life in service to the Imperial military,” she said, looking up from her datapad with her never-wavering smile. It was only then that Eli recognized what felt off about their interactions.
She and Luthen were polite enough in their expressions, speech, and body language, but their eyes were completely out of place. Furtive, suspicious, and just a little too defensive. This might have registered to Eli as untrustworthy, but years in the military also taught him that civilians, even those with perfectly peaceful intentions and nothing to hide, were often on their guard around officers. Some might interpret this as a sign of respect and recognition of their superiority, but it still made him uncomfortable.
“Yeah… I take it you’re not far from home?”
“About a dozen levels from where I grew up, it’s been so long since I was down there…” Kleya trailed off. For a moment, the suspicion Eli had been accustomed to melted from her eyes while her service industry smile relaxed into natural smirk. Quickly blinking, she refocused her attention on Eli and the demeanor she had assumed since the Imperials walk in resumed. “Is there something you would be interested in viewing? I don’t believe we have anything from Lysatra, a luck charm from Jakku, perhaps?”
Eli shook his head. “I never had an eye for art like the admiral does,” he said, a reflexive sigh escaping his lips. “Nope, I’m content to sit back and let him make his deductions.”
“Toiling as an advisor and intermediary, it’s not always rewarding work, but you do it because you know, one day, you’ll have the opportunity to make those deductions yourself,” Kleya asserted, and to punctuate her point, she placed a reassuring hand on Eli’s shoulder. A polite cough caused them both to snap to attention and turn to face their superiors.
”Commander, we are leaving, for now.”
Neither Thrawn or Luthen looked particularly pleased with the lack of transaction that had occurred. But Luthen made sure to vigorously shake Thrawn’s hand as he lead them to the door. Thrawn and Eli were preparing to enter their speeder when he gave a cheerful wave.
“I’ll keep that Ukian wind chime off to the side for you, should you change your mind,” he said. Thrawn politely nodded back. No sooner than the speeder door closed as it took off did he jump into an impromptu debriefing.
”Thoughts, commander?”
”About Luthen and Kleya, admiral?” They seem friendly, maybe a little wary, but these days, a lot of civilians feel like that around military officers,” Eli responded, trying his hardest to not look down at his hands. Thrawn raised an eyebrow.
“Perhaps. But wariness doesn’t account for knowledge of Imperial sartorial code,” Thrawn said in his tone indicating that he expected his protégé to keep up.
“Sartorial? What do you- oh, you’re referring to when he called you admiral, sir?”
Thrawn inclined his head and tightly smiled in praise, causing Eli’s cheeks to flush. “Yes, despite claiming that they rarely see Imperial officers, he immediately identified my rank. Even those that designed our uniforms can have difficulty discerning rank that quickly.”
“So they pose as antique dealers to gain powerful contacts while moonlighting as rebels?”
”I doubt they are involved in anything quite so seditious,” Thrawn said, letting out an amused chuckle. “It’s more likely their business is a front for money laundering or a similar criminal enterprise. Dealing in expensive items with no standardized values would allow them to falsely the cost of transactions without drawing scrutiny. They’re planning for the day ISB agents or perhaps even stormtroopers show up at their doorstep. We’ll want an ISB supervisor to look into their financial records to confirm this before taking any action, of course.”
“Of course. Your analysis hasn’t failed them yet.”
•••
It wasn’t until the Imperial’s speeder disappeared into the horizon that Kleya and Luthen stopped pretending to fiddle with different exhibits and convened in the unseen back of the shop. Kleya rubbed her temples.
“A nonhuman admiral, since when did Palpatine relax his humanocentrist policies?” she asked. Luthen shook his head.
“No, I’ve heard about this one, just rumors. The alien with a win streak so impressive, the High Command is willing to overlook his race,” he said. “Never could pry the name of his acquaintance out of him.” Kleya narrowed her eyes.
“Do we need to be concerned?”
“Cautious, but not overly concerned. It felt like I was being interrogated, but by someone who didn’t want to know anything important,” Luthen said, grimacing. “No, my instinct is he treats every conversation like that.”
“Still, we should keep our heads down, put in a line of inquiry with our friend in white,” Kleya suggested, surreptitiously glancing towards the door. Luthen nodded.
“Agreed. What about the boy, anything there?”
Kleya shook her head. “He clearly worships that admiral. Bright, yet naive. Most high-ranking Imperials like to keep a pretty face around.”
Luthen grunted in concurrence. “It does have its advantages,” he admitted, raising his eyebrows and cocking his head to the side. Kleya once again narrowed her eyes.
”I’ve scheduled a private exhibition with Senator Organa next week. He wants to see what we can offer him… from our stock below the counter,” she said. Luthen reached up and adjusted his wig slightly.
”Don’t worry, we both know how discreet I can be.”