Chapter 8: Specter of the Past
"You could tell that he's happy just from his face?" Miat Temm wondered as she observed Stent eat the vindaloo.
"Yes." Voss Parck gave her an innocent shrug. "But then, we've been married for fifteen years. By now we could probably finish each other's sentences."
Again, silence.
"I disagree." Stent countered matter-of-factly. He placed down the cutlery and crossed his arms in a negative stance. "Voss, your sense of humor leaves much to be desired."
Stent rarely addressed Voss Parck by his given name in public; such an open display of affection was horribly unprofessional by the Chiss standards. However, the three dumbstruck humans were too entertaining to let the opportunity pass.
Voss Parck chuckled. "Oh, really? Tell them a Chiss joke, Stent, and let them decide for themselves whose sense of humor leaves much to be desired."
Stent rewarded him with a hard glare. He resumed eating, disregarding the comment. Voss Parck was truly insufferable at times!
Nevertheless, Stent had to admit, the Mustafar vindaloo turned out to be highly agreeable to the Chiss palate. Perhaps later he could ask them for a recipe.
"Fifteen years?" Gilad Pellaeon echoed faintly. "That's a very long time, Admiral Parck, Commander Stent. I wish I could say the same. Sadly, none of my relationships lasted that long. I ended up married to my ship and career."
Out of the corner of his eye, Stent could see the civilian aide and the politician eyeing each other with a guarded nature. Their increased infra-red glow was a dead giveaway.
Stent suppressed a smirk as he chewed on the spicy meat. It was so tempting to bust them out but his two decades of experience with humans taught Stent that it was best to wait until the two moactan teels in love came to terms with their own feelings.
Humans were so ridiculous when it came to these things.
Ephin Sarreti cleared his throat. "What is it like for an alien to live with a human, then?"
This time, Stent was unable to suppress a smirk. He swallowed the bite, licking his lips. "Did you mean for a male alien to live with a male human?"
"I meant in general." The politician stated diplomatically. He was deeply uncomfortable with the idea of two men in an intimate relationship, but he tried his best to humor his guests.
Humans were so ridiculous when it came to these things.
Still, compared to the rest of the Moff Council, Ephin Sarreti was an open minded man. It would be a shame to slit his throat. There was great potential in the young Imperial.
Stent poured himself a glass of water. He had no desire to drink ethanol-based alcohol like the four others. Methanol-based alcohol produced by the Chiss was far superior in taste. Unfortunately, it would have made the humans go blind.
Stent shrugged. "I am content."
Voss Parck stepped in. "Chiss are a deeply private species, Governor. I'm afraid that's as much as he'd be willing to admit, even to an interrogation droid."
Stent wasn't vague merely for his own benefit. Voss Parck, too, was a deeply private person.
"I can imagine." Gilad Pellaeon agreed. "Grand Admiral Thrawn never spoke a word about himself. By the Nine Hells, until recently I had no idea that his real name was in fact Mitth'raw'nuruodo."
It took all Stent's willpower to not spill the content of the glass into Gilad Pellaeon's face. The man's pronunciation was unbelievable! If he had any idea of what he had just said…
Voss Parck laughed awkwardly. He knew too well what Gilad Pellaeon had said.
"Chiss names are difficult to pronounce, Grand Admiral. Mitth'raw'nuruodo had his reasons for letting humans use his core name instead."
Voss Parck's lips marred in an evil smirk. "As does Kres'ten'tarthi."
"Don't even try to pronounce my name." Stent growled at the three Imperials who all jerked in shock at the harsh tone.
"Stent." Voss Parck admonished sharply. However, based on his heat distribution, Voss Parck had a hard time stifling a laugh.
"Core name?" Gilad Pellaeon wondered. "What is that?"
Stent exchanged a knowing glance with Voss Parck. He would gladly let Voss Parck take the initiative; after all, Voss Parck could explain Chiss customs to outsiders far better than Stent ever did.
"Chiss naming conventions are rather complicated, Grand Admiral." Voss Parck admitted. "Although essentially, the sense of familiarity associated with core names is not so dissimilar to human given names."
The three Imperials were stunned speechless.
"It seems that I've known him even less than I thought." Gilad Pellaeon let out a long, deep exhale.
"Admiral Parck, I've already mentioned that I'd prefer if you addressed me simply as Admiral Pellaeon. A military faction which has been reduced to a mere eight sectors has no need for a grand admiral."
"As you wish." Voss Parck conceded. "If it's any consolation, Admiral Pellaeon, Grand Admiral Thrawn was ridiculously taciturn even by his own people's standards."
Stent inclined his head in agreement.
Yet it hadn't always been the case with Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo. There was a reason why the Chiss kept his distance from his peers and his subordinates.
The reason was Syndic Mitth'ras'safis.
The death of his own brother shook Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo more than he would have ever admitted aloud.
Voss Parck knew, or rather he got to know, soon after Stent and his warriors ended up in Mitth'raw'nuruodo's service. They became his servants, and Mitth'raw'nuruodo became their Syndic.
Unfortunately, it was Stent who carelessly mentioned Syndic Mitth'ras'safis's name in front of the oblivious human who immediately proceeded to ask who Syndic Mitth'ras'safis had been, given the name's resemblance.
He had to admire Mitth'raw'nuruodo's restraint. Especially since he had been wearing his old master's colors.
Yellow.
Nevertheless, he felt that Gilad Pellaeon, the man whom Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo chose as his second-in-command for the campaign to reunite the Core, deserved to know the truth.
Thus Stent broke the code of silence, and proceeded telling them what happened the fateful day and the time then-Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo had encountered a mad Jedi named Jorus C'Baoth.
It was no coincidence that Joruus C'Baoth awaited Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo on Wayland. From what Stent understood, the Galactic Emperor had been a maleficent creature, possessed by the so-called Dark Side of the Force, claiming to have foreseen the Far Outsiders and well as other events.
However, despite all his self-proclaimed visions of the future, the Galactic Emperor couldn't have predicted his demise.
Still, he had been able to make an educated guess as to who would be daring enough to return and steal his precious little fiefdom.
And he had found a way to torment Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo even after his own death.
THE END
While I keep stealing from myself, making Stent a former servant to Aristocra Formbi like in the Freak Fleet, I don't want to re-tell Outbound Flight. Did that already in All Roads Lead to Coruscant. So I'll end Stent's monologue here.
His political views rock. The New Republic is a bunch of anarchists and ex-smugglers, Chiss Aristocras suffer from too much genetic inbreeding, and the self-proclaimed 'Galactic' Empire... I can't even. Oh, Stent. I love you.
In the past, I played with the idea of writing my own take on Thrawn's thoughts upon finding C'baoth's clone on Wayland. Oh, it definitely wasn't coincidence. At least in my headcanon.