A/N: Thanks again for all the support and messages and reviews. :) As always, my disclaimer applies.
He knows!
The thought went out across the bond before I fully entered Tam's office. And if I had been in my right mind, I would have taken the time to assess both Tam and Reese's mental states and what they were doing before I opened my big telepathic mouth. Alarm streaked across Tam's space, a spiky electric arc of lightning that flashed across the stars in my head. Mild concern echoed from Reese like the fading afterimage of a bright flare, and a serious warning from the latter to pull myself together immediately.
Because they weren't alone.
I couldn't quite get over the shock that went through me when I first stepped into the room. For one thing, it was four times and a half the size of Ensign Colclazure's. For another, it was divided into five distinct sections by waist-high walls. Work stations were in the process of being erected by technicians, the areas around them a complicated knot of wires and parts and pieces. The technicians themselves seemed unhindered by the organized chaos, somehow possessed of the ability to pluck a random wire from a tangled ball and have it unravel seamlessly into their hands. The presence of the technicians wasn't all that shocking, given the Admiral's orders to acquire a team for Tam's use.
What was shocking was the signs of utter fear that manifested in the group of techs. They were all focused on their work with the single-minded dedication of someone wanting to complete a task and get the kriff away as soon as possible. One man had sweat running down his face, though the ambient temperature wasn't nearly that warm. Another man's hand shook slightly, so much so that he dropped one of the mounting brackets—four times—before he was able to install a panel in its proper place. It was the woman that kept throwing wide-eyed looks over her shoulder that did it.
She was staring in the direction of Tam's area. Or more to the point staring at the man, himself. As if she was expecting him to grow fangs, claws, and attempt to rip her face off. I couldn't help but goggle at her, standing there like an idiot a few steps away from the door. Surely she wasn't thinking such awful things about Tam, was she?
My gaze shifted to my best friend and my lover, and for a moment I understood the fear that saturated the room. Tam did not look happy, and Reese less than such. There was a frown on Tam's lips, and he bent over the central holotable, hands gripping the edges tightly. There was tension in his frame, and his eyes were thoughtful as they viewed whatever information drifted across the glassy surface. Every so often his hand would lift, a fingertip touching the table and moving bits of information around. Like trying to fit together a giant jigsaw puzzle.
Reese was likewise bent over the table, grunting or murmuring approval or dislike as they worked through whatever it was they were doing.
That was what I saw. What the other occupants of the room saw? They saw the white tunic and black pants of the ISB uniform first. Then they saw the all black uniform and shining rank bars of a stormtrooper Lieutenant. Then they saw the tension in them and the frown on their lips. And then… then they saw what I considered a thoughtful expression in Tam's kind eyes.
They saw calculation instead in Tam. And cold dispassionate killer eyes in Reese.
Perspective. How I wish that had been the first lesson taught to us the moment we were conscripted. Everything outside of basic training was nothing more than an exercise in perspective. The technicians saw a monster and death when they gazed at Tam and Reese. I saw men trapped in a nightmare, doing their best to save everyone around them from it and trying to figure out how to survive it, themselves.
Giving myself a shake, I stepped over to them, presenting myself as was proper to an officer of higher rank. "Crewman Idelas, reporting, sir."
Stars, Ari, not you, too, Tam sighed inwardly. His outward appearance had not changed. He was getting better at this, at hiding what he was really feeling, and I wasn't certain if that was necessarily a good thing. Don't ever call me 'sir' again.
I don't have much of a choice, Tam. Not with witnesses present. Now, are you going to acknowledge me or are you going to let these technicians continue to think you're about to eat my face?
He started at that, head whipping up in my direction. His eyes widened, and all that control I had noticed in him a moment ago slipped away. Inwardly, I cursed. Cal, stop it. Be the ISB officer right this instant. Or do you want rumors going around about us among the crew?
I felt the turmoil in him, the whirlwind of nausea that now he was forced to play this political game, to alter the perspective of those around him because of his new rank. But he comported himself appropriately, rising to his full height. "Crewman Idelas," he acknowledged, nodding once.
"Crewman," Reese nodded in turn. "Thank you for reporting as ordered. You have that information for us?"
"Yes, sir."
I fished out the data card Admiral Thrawn had handed to me, not even blinking as I handed over the fake report. I had nothing to give them and they knew it, but they were covering for my stupidity, my blundering into ISB domain as if I had the right to be there.
Reese took the offered card, tucking it with practiced ease into a belt box. "I am certain this will be helpful."
"Crewman," Tam cut in, noting the obvious dismissal in Reese's tone. And ignoring it. "Have you completed your duties for the night?"
"Yes, sir. I am relieved of duty at the moment. Aside from reporting—"
"Those can wait," Tam interjected. "Admiral Thrawn implied that you could assist me when you had time. I see that you have that time."
He stepped back from the holo table, keying something I couldn't see until the table went dark. Reese's disapproval rolled like dark clouds across the bond, a warning glint in his eyes. This wasn't a good idea. It really wasn't. But Reese's personal need followed that warning, and even he had to admit that it had been too long since the three of us stood connected within touching distance.
Without trying to kill each other in weapons practice, that is.
Tam withdrew his own data card from the table. "Walk with me."
I followed them into a private room… into what I realized was Tam's official office. The moment the door closed behind us and locked, I threw myself at Reese. He caught me around the waist and pulled me in tightly, his lips hitting mine like a force of nature. For once I didn't try to mute the link with Tam while I kissed Reese. I needed him to feel what I was feeling, needed him to have the comfort and safety and utter relief that washed across me.
We were together again. All three of us. Even if it was only for a stolen few minutes of time, we were together. That was all that mattered.
"You are trembling, little one," Reese said when the kiss broke, eyes narrowing. "What has happened?"
"I got promoted."
He lifted an eyebrow. "And this is a reason for fear?"
"Let her speak, Reese," Tam cut in, enfolding me in a tight embrace after Reese let go.
When Reese put his hand on the back of my neck, when I opened myself fully to the two of them for what felt like the first time in months, the bond flared like a supernova. Scorching the dark worry and fatigue from our bodies. I sagged in Tam's arms, felt him laughing softly just as I heard Reese chuckle at my reaction. He felt it too, to be certain, yet he was too disciplined even in his off time to let such a reaction show. Instead, he pulled out a chair from in front of Tam's desk and offered it to me.
Tam took a seat behind his desk, his shoulders straight and square. Less severe and more relaxed, but… taller somehow. It made me smile.
Tell us, little one, Reese whispered through the bond. What about this promotion is so frightening to you? What does the Admiral know?
I hesitated a moment, trying to pull myself out of the comforting warmth of our reestablished bond enough to put words together. Feeling like I was taking my first deep breaths in forever. We were going to have to find a way to do this more often, to maneuver ourselves until we could meet like this at least once a week. Having gone without it was like going without my left arm. Somehow, I was going to have to impress this upon the Admiral.
I pushed away the nagging doubt that the reason the Admiral had separated us in the first place was because this bond was so necessary, that perhaps he saw it as a weakness. That perhaps he was right.
He knows about my dream, I sent, rubbing at the bridge of my nose. The first time he asked to see my painting, I think I panicked. His mind isn't like ours, isn't like anything I can put into relatable terms. So when I tried to paint him, it was like an abstract that had its own life. Like it was breaking the painting somehow, like it was too large to contain. So I did the only thing I could do and related him the best way I knew how.
By framing him in the context of your vision, Reese finished for me.
Yes. It was only for a second, only to get a better grasp on how to shape him in my thoughts. But it was enough. He… he confirmed something for me today. He told me what the bracelet and the ring meant. They are Chiss customs long gone out of favor by his people. They show a kind of… dominance, but not like we would quantify it. More like leader and being lead, or willing submission to someone else in order to gain something greater. I hesitate to call it a teacher/student relationship as even that is an incorrect analogy.
I waved my hand in the air helplessly. Regardless, it confirmed what you initially thought, Tam. These aren't random dreams I'm having. They are visions of some kind. And he's aware that I'm having them and that they hold meaning for him.
Does that have something to do with your promotion? Tam asked.
And in that moment I felt them do something that they shouldn't have done, or rather shouldn't have been able to do without me. I felt a partial wall arise in my head, one that blocked me out of the link for a second without dropping the bond and allowed Tam and Reese to have a private conversation. Throwing up a wall wasn't anything new, but blocking one of us from the link completely? I didn't think it was possible. I felt my mouth fall open, staring at them aghast.
What did you just do? And why?
Tam looked at Reese, and Reese shrugged. We have learned a new trick together, little one. For our own protection and for yours. You have touched the mind of Admiral Thrawn, and he will be expecting you to keep his confidences. Tam and I felt that the first time you brought him into your painting. We had to find a way to communicate without trespassing through that trust. Make no mistake, little one. He trusts you. Do not misuse it for any reason.
I'm not an idiot, I snapped back slightly. Not sure why I was feeling hurt or angry that they had done this thing without me. I'm far too paranoid and petrified to so much as ever think about betraying him.
What they were doing made logical sense in a way, but still… It felt like more than a division to protect the Admiral's privacy. It felt like a permanent thing, like something too easy to use and something that could become a reflex before any of us knew it. How long before Tam and I started talking without including Reese? How long until Reese and I did the same? The blunt and simple honesty that had been the nucleus of our bond felt violated somehow, less sacred than before.
Tam and Reese fell silent, picking up those thoughts from me. Silently agreeing on all points, and yet feeling as helpless as I did in regards to being able to stop it.
We just have to try harder, Tam said softly. We'll find ways to maintain our honesty.
No, Reese shook his head. No, I think it's time the two of you took off your blinders and accepted your fate. You are no longer conscripts by your own admission, but stand as full warriors in service to the Empire. Warriors must understand that not every unit remains together one hundred percent of the time. Each of us has been selected for our skills and talents, and will be offered positions because of those diverse abilities. More often than not, we will run into situations where we cannot tell each other everything.
That's not what she means, Tam interjected protectively. She means daily conversations, moments like this where—
Reese ignored him, gazing down at me. It isn't? Then tell me—in your own words—why the hurt and anger swirl around you when Tam and I discuss mission specific items without you?
I rubbed my hands over my face, wanting so much to tell him that Tam was right, that being left out of mission specs didn't bother me. But I couldn't, and they both knew that. It bothered me something fierce that we were literally being separated. Even knowing the logic behind it, I still couldn't bring myself to accept it. Tam and I had been a team for so much of my tiny career that the thought of being without him…
"I can't," I said aloud, needing to hear my own voice. Needing to hear the words affirmed aloud. "It's too soon after losing Pieterson. You don't understand how much the two of you keep me sane. No conscript—and no brand new warrior—would be subjected to what we are being asked to do. I can't lose our link yet."
"I once thought as you do now," Reese shrugged his shoulders, mild disbelief at my professed weakness pouring through the bond. "Remind me to tell you the story of Commander Jhan Miles, little one."
"Who was that?" Tam asked.
"The man who changed my entire way of thinking."
I was nearly weeping as I made my painful way back to the crewman barracks, head ringing and limbs all but numb from our nightly penance. Dabu Chib had come to join in on the "fun" as he had called it, stating that Vyns had a date with the lovely Dr. Flores in some hidden part of the secondary medical facility and thusly could not assist Reese this evening. So far it appeared as if Vyns was winning the bet, charming the before mentioned ice-hearted woman into his bed. But Chib had a different view on the topic, believing that maybe, just maybe, Vyns had really found a woman worth keeping.
Just as Reese had.
He'd knocked me flat with a blow to the side of the face, and with that one statement. Hard enough that I lost consciousness for a good minute or two. I woke to fire in my side, the pressure of Chib's practice staff slapping away at my ribs during my blackout. Apparently being unconscious was no excuse for letting one's guard down. Nor was being caught flatfooted when someone said something intensely personal and shocking all at once.
No matter how long Reese and I were together, I don't think I'd ever truly believe that he wanted to "keep" me. It was too much akin to the word "love," and I wasn't certain I was ready to go that route yet. Granted, he and I were completely exclusive, and he'd made me jump through more hoops—physically and verbally—than any boyfriend I'd ever had in the past just to know what it was like to be intimate with him. But that didn't mean—
I'd put that line of thought on hold as I twisted onto my side as if to rise, shoving one foot out in a sweeping motion, taking Chib down onto the mat before pushing to my feet. I was on my guard before he'd finished his own kick-up, slashing at his exposed shoulders for a good blow or two before he regained his momentum. I didn't hold the upper hand for much longer, but it was a lot longer than I had in the past, and by the end of that round Chib was breathing as hard as I was.
He'd grinned ear to ear, nodding to me for the first time ever. As in, treating me like I had done something worthy of respect. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw that as yet unnamed Noghri nod slightly before turning and walking out the door. I had no idea what his nod meant, nor what he would report back to the Grand Admiral. For surely that was why he was here? Watching and recording and reporting on our progress?
I didn't want to think of that as anything else. The implications of "anything else" were enough to make me want to run in terror. And I was far beyond running in terror anymore. There were worse things in this galaxy than some unknown fear. I had learned that much at least.
And that thought was probably what had me pausing at the side of my bunk. Or rather, that thought combined with the soft sighs of barely muffled sobs. There, in the bunk that had once belonged to Cris Pieterson, lay a new form. A girl, if the height and shape beneath the blankets was any indication. I glanced at the locker that stood next to mine.
"Crewman E. Gilliam," I read aloud softly.
The bundle on the bunk froze, and even without the Force I could sense the fear that wrapped around her like steel cable. I could almost hear the thoughts twisting through her terrified mind. Why? Because I had them my first night in the Chimaera's barracks. The first time I'd heard Pieterson come from his shift, I had held my breath until I almost passed out, praying that he'd ignore me, that I wouldn't be noticed. That if I closed my eyes tight enough, whished and prayed hard enough, when I opened them again I would be home in my bed. My real bed, with my real family. And all this conscription nonsense would have been a bad dream.
Inwardly I sighed, surprised at the slight annoyance that ripped through me at her muffled sobs. I had had one hell of a long day, earned a promotion, and endured my evening penance for the mistakes I'd made before. The last thing I wanted was to listen to someone trying to pretend their way out of reality. The very last thing I wanted to see on my shift on the morrow was the red swollen eyes of a child that would be more a hindrance to the performance of my station that the help she was supposed to be.
Stars, I owed Ensign Colclazure one hell of an apology. How he had put up with me in the beginning was anyone's guess. The man deserved a medal for his patience. Then again, so did my Admiral for putting up with my cowardly actions, and so did Reese for putting up with my physical weaknesses. And so did Captain Pellaeon for not breaking my neck every time I stood on the center of his bridge like a idiot. And so on… and so forth…
"Stars," I cursed beneath my breath. "This is what true command feels like, doesn't it? This is what it means to lead."
I paused, slipping my foot back into the boot I'd almost tugged free.
"Crewman Gilliam," I said firmly, quietly. "To attention."
The form under the blanket trembled, and I started a slow count to ten beneath my breath. Ten seconds was all I could allow her to pull herself together. Ten seconds, as Chib had so generously pointed out in our training session today, was the difference between life and death. That would be my new marker, my new measure of when I needed to apply discipline along with leadership.
Terrified or not, the girl was smart enough to realize I meant business. By the time I reached the ten second mark, she was standing at something I assumed she thought was proper attention. Her eyes were the obligatory red from weeping, and her fingers twitched at her side as if unsure of what to do with her hands. I stared into those eyes, taking her measure in a heartbeat.
She was only a breath younger than me if she was a day. But that vast gulf called experience separated the woman I was now from the girl she was. From the girl I had been when in her exact situation. Only I had been smart enough to ask for help.
"Crewman Gilliam," I said again, standing at proper attention, watching her eyes widen as if I had grown twelve feet in height just by squaring my shoulders. "I am Ensign Aria Idelas, one of your commanding officers on the starboard crewpit team. When I call you to attention, I expect you to comply as quickly as you can. Neither laziness nor excuses will be tolerated."
"Y-y-yes, sir."
"You are a conscript, I presume."
"Y-yes, sir."
She dared to wince, to take her eyes from me for even a second. My mouth tightened, and that was enough to have her trying to stand straighter, eyes locked onto mine. No matter how much I wanted to wrap my arms around her, to tell her that it was going to be okay, that she would learn and adapt like the rest of us had, I just couldn't. Because no one else was going to do that for her. No one else was going to be kind or compassionate.
If she made a mistake, they would discipline her for it. And in the end, she would fit the mold, or she would shatter and be remade, or she would die. The only question that remained was how many good men would lose their lives with her if she died. For we all had our parts to play on this ship, we all had our positions that were tied directly to the success of each mission.
There was no time for hugs or soft words in the middle of a battle. The Chimaera was a warship aimed like a sword in the Grand Admiral's hand.
I couldn't be soft, no matter how much my heart broke for her.
Pieterson, I am one of them. Heart and soul. I understand now. I fully understand. I have to be firm if everyone is going to survive. I can't just think of myself when thirty-seven thousand other lives depend on me to do my job. You were wrong, my friend. And I'm so sorry I couldn't help you see it. But I don't have to let this girl share your fate.
"Do you have a speech impediment, Crewman Gilliam?" I continued sternly.
She flinched. "N-no, sir."
"Then I expect you to take a deep breath and answer me clearly. What is your name, Crewman?"
She took the deep breath, seeming to empty herself from the toes upward with it. "Elindria Gilliam, sir."
I let myself smile faintly. "You'll get used to it, Crewman Gilliam, all the changes being thrown at you," I said quietly. "It'll always hurt, being away from those you love. And it'll seem impossible to do what you have been called upon to do. But you have officers around you that can and will assist you if you do your best. Never hesitate to ask for that help. In the end, you'll get used to it, and you will be better for it."
Disbelief and rage and sorrow and everything in between lanced through her dark eyes. I let that stare break over me like water, like I was a rock in the center of her emotional torrent. When she had had enough, when she realized that all her bottled rage and helplessness wasn't going to so much as chip at my placid exterior, her shoulders slumped. Her eyes filled with those tears again.
And, stars help me, I said what I needed to say. For her sake and for my own.
"Did I, at any point in this conversation, give you permission to stand at your ease?"
Her shoulders lifted, and I did my best not to wince at her poor imitation of a proper stance. I had my work cut out for me, apparently. I glanced at my wrist chronometer and pursed my lips. "We are too late to drill you on proper the proper way to stand at attention, Crewman. You need your rest. I want you to come and find me at the end of your shift on the morrow. I'll instruct you on the correct way to speak, to address your superiors, and how to stand. I don't suppose you can perform military turns, can you?"
"I have had basic instructions on it, sir."
I shook my head. "We'll work on that, too. Dismissed."
She clambered into her bunk so fast I almost thought she broke the sound barrier. But instead of turning away from me, she lay on her side, facing me. The tears were back in her eyes, the trembling returning to her frame. But she wasn't weeping again just yet. I felt her watching me take off my boots, strip from my crewman's jumpsuit for the last time. Tomorrow, I would report to the commissary to pick up my full officer's uniform. Tomorrow night, I would sleep in my own room on the junior officer's deck.
"S-sir?"
I glanced over. "Yes, crewman?"
"Why, sir?"
"Why what, Crewman?" I asked, slipping beneath the blankets.
"Why are you helping me?"
Because I couldn't help the man that used to sleep in your bunk. He was a right awful bastard at times, but in the end he was my friend. And I miss him, terribly. "Because it's my job, Crewman Gilliam. I expect you to pay back these lessons by performing above and beyond expectations. This is the Chimaera. This is the best of the best. We do not have standards on this ship. We set the standards for all other ships. Now get some rest."
"Yes, sir."
She rolled over onto her other side, and I did the same. And I knew that tonight I would dream of the home I once loved. The home that would never be mine again, because I was no longer the girl I used to be.