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Eli walks down the hall of the Naporar’s HQ building, not so much because he has any reason to be there, but because it’s cold and Vah’nya knows this so they building hop in the winter. She, like himself, has lived her entire life aboard ships and adjusts poorly to extreme climates—cold or hot.
“So what do you think?” she asks. “Do you want to go see that movie?”
The plot sounds very much like something Vah’nya would enjoy—a young woman taken from a ranking position in the family only to realize that she is an heir and must return and learn the way of some made up family that sounds a lot like Irizi. It sounds like propaganda to him, but a perfectly good romantic comedy to her.
“Do you think Un’hee would like it?”
Vah’nya perks up. “She would love it. Oh my goodness, we can go shopping after!”
“Or we could go shopping before and you guys can dress up to go to the movie,” he suggests and they round the corner.
Admiral Ar’alani and General Ba’kif stand in the hall speaking to someone tall and lanky. Someone, whose silhouette Eli knows without hesitation.
“Thrawn?” he asks, though it comes out of his chest like he’s been punched. He had heard that Mak’ro had found something interesting in the far reaches and needed Ar’alani’s support. That’s why the Steadfast and Reaper are here. It’s why Tro'owmis scrambled to take Mak’ro’s sector and In’daro is stretched thin to try and support her and Tro’owmis’ sectors.
Eli had thought it had been a tactically unsound move to shuffle their forces so greatly, but now he sees why .
Thrawn turns smoothly over one shoulder and his eyes brighten. “Eli.” Abandoning the officers, Thrawn crosses the hall to him in three, long strides and pulls him into a hug. He folds around him entirely, tucks his head into the crook up Eli’s shoulder.
“Woah, hey, are you alright?” He holds him closer, even though every instinct is telling him to shrug out of the hug, to check Thrawn for injuries.
He nods, but otherwise stays still.
“Excellent timing,” Ar’alani’s voice calls from down the hall. “We were just about to call you, Theliv.”
Eli struggles to look at her over Thrawn’s broad shoulders.
“It seems that in the Chaos, Mak’ro has found your husband.”