"So you did something with curriculum, Madam Tristaine?" asked Grand Admiral Mariff as the small group made their way over to a corner of the room.
Thrawn noticed that Mariff's previous disdain for the 'backwater yokels' seemed to have diminished when actually in their presence.
"She created the literature section for the primary grades, if I recall," said Tarkin, looking down at her.
"And grade 11," she added, with a bit of pout in her voice. "Everyone forgets about grade 11."
"You're the reason we have to read all those awful fairy tales to our grandchildren?" Madam Mariff said, her hand clutching her husband's arm.
"You couldn't have been but a child yourself, if that's the case," Mariff said at the same time.
"Those fairytales," Luxsolaria said, leaning forward around Tarkin as they walked to address Madam Mariff, "are the underlying of much of Imperial culture's idioms. Every single one of those stories was chosen specifically for that purpose. Because it holds significance in the language that Imperial citizens need to understand when speaking, or reading, or writing."
"You're joking," Madam Mariff said. "They're fairytales. How much culture can you glean from The Princess and the Pirate?"
"Oh, I love that story," Viita piped. "I wanted to be a pirate who fell in love with a princess when I was a boy."
"Every boy wants to be a pirate and have a princess fall in love with him," Tarkin said. "If he doesn't, there is something wrong with him."
"Do you know that there are over 50 platitudes for love that come from that fairytale alone?" Luxsolaria asked. "And each one has a specific meaning depending on where in the fairytale it happened." She raised her hand, fingers together, as if holding up a platitude for all to see. "It is important that an educated citizen know that."
Madam Mariff shook her head, as much as she was able with her huge headdress.
"I did not know the primary curriculum was so detailed for Imperial children," Thrawn remarked, his interest piqued at the conversation.
Luxsolaria smiled at him smugly. "It wasn't, Grand Admiral, until I created it about 25 years ago." She winced. "Oooo, I'm old!"
Viita clicked his tongue, "You don't look a day over 45, my darling sister," he sang.
She swung her arm out and slapped him in the stomach. "I still get away with being only 35."
Her brother let out a slow breath as recovered from his hit in the solar plexus, but managed to laugh anyway. "As it should be," he wheezed.
"You deserved that," Tarkin said, pointing to a large circle of chairs and changing their direction slightly toward them.
"I did," Viita agreed. He winked at Thrawn.
Thrawn stared back at him.
"Everyone will be playing, correct?" Luxsolaria glanced at each of the people in their group in turn. "We all have to play Snooks."
"I am afraid I've never been introduced to the game," Thrawn said.
Tarkin chuckled. "It is an easy game. Someone says a word, and when it is your turn, you say the first word that comes into your head."
"But it has to have something to do with the word that was just said," Luxsolaria amended. "Or you're out. So if someone says 'cat', you can't say 'potato'. But you could say 'kitten', or 'collar', or 'bell', or—"
"Lothal," Thrawn said.
"Yes!" Luxsolaria jumped as they walked, pointing at him. "Since that's where they come from, exactly!"
"Admiral Viita," a woman from the circle of chairs got up and grabbed Viita's arm. "Come sit over here, there's a spare chair…"
She began to drag him off. He looked over at the group he walked over with and shrugged his shoulders, allowing himself to be led away with a smile.
"That was fast," his sister muttered.
"Did you think you would be able to keep them all away?" Tarkin asked her.
"A little longer than that, yes," she said. "My evil eye must be failing."
"I don't think I've ever seen you give anyone the evil eye, Madam Tristaine," Tarkin motioned for her to take a chair in the circle.
Luxsolaria sat down. "You haven't looked close enough, then, Grand Moff Tarkin," she quipped.
"What's the prize for the winner?" Mariff asked, settling himself next to his wife in a chair.
"That." Tarkin pointed to a dias behind them. On it was a scale model of an ancient sailing ship, complete with canvas sails and small, movable rudder. "At one time, each one of your ships was one of those," Tarkin reminded them.
"Look how far we've come," Madam Mariff sighed.
Each of them sat in a spare chair. Governor Pryce had joined the game, also, flashing a smug grin in Thrawn's direction from across the large circle.
The game commenced. Thrawn could see right away that many players did not understand the word association aspect of the endeavor. About every fourth person was eliminated in the first round. Pryce was eliminated in the fourth. He also deduced, about the third time around, that the rules were fluid. Depending on what a person said, and the people who were around deemed, depended on whether the person remained in the circle or not. What could have been a perfectly plausible answer might not be accepted by the crowd, and was therefore deemed a wrong one.
It wasn't long before there were only five people left. Slowly each member was thrown out of the game, their chair removed, and the circle cinched tighter until the last two remaining were Thrawn and Luxsolaria Tristaine.
They now sat across from each other, a gaggle of people around them, having divided themselves up into sides. Thrawn sat tall, calmly with his shoulders relaxed. Pryce was at his back, urging him on. "Don't let her win," the governor of Lothal encouraged.
Uriellien Viita stood behind his sister, "Win me that ship, Sola," he said. "I want to put a snake at the bow and have Crimson Asp carved on it." She was a bundle of vibration. She had both of her hands up to her shoulders like a small child, shaking them each time she said a word. Her smile seemed to beam from the pores of her skin, as if one touched her they would set off a flash of golden light caused by the energy she seemed to have stored up in her tiny body.
"Star system!" she all but yelled, bouncing in her chair. Each time she bounced, her chair came closer to Thrawn's so that their knees almost touched. She leaned forward with each new word, her eyes glued to his, as if trying to divine his next reply.
Neither one seemed to be tiring of words with which to combat the other. Thrawn decided to take a chance at the fluidity of the rules. Luxsolaria, being from Astarrax most likely spoke the local dialect. With the world being a mercantile one and so near Wild Space, chances were she spoke a trade language, also.
"Star Destroyer," he replied in Meese Caulf.
She bolted upright, her mouth dropping open and eyes going wide. The group around them went silent. She then broke out into a huge smile, grabbing onto the sides of her chair and leaning forward, invading Thrawn's personal space.
"Captain!" she replied in Meese Caulf.
A round of "Oooo!"s went through the crowd.
"It's on!" someone shouted.
"Get a protocol droid!"
"I can translate," said several voices, followed by laughter.
It dawned on him that Luxsolaria Tristaine understood the rules of the game, but also the rules of language. "Bridge," Thrawn replied, a small smile on his face.
"Cabin," she replied.
"Berth."
She slapped his right knee. "Oh, you know you're going to win," she said in Meese Caulf. "You can at least leave the easy answers for me!"
"I do not know I am going win, Madam," he replied. "You are giving me quite the chase."
"Crewman!"
"Engineer."
"Engine room!"
"Reactor."
She paused, biting her lip. Her eyes were still on his, but he could see she was searching for a word. "Wrench!" she finally exclaimed.
Thrawn titled his head.
"A wrench?" Viita said in Basic.
"Socket!" she yelled again, laughing.
"Sola!" Viita admonished.
"Screwdriver!" A round of cheers went up as Luxsolaria threw her head back, hair shaking with laughter as she announced, "I lose!"
Thrawn kept his eyes on her as he felt several slaps on his shoulders and back, accompanied by, "Good show!"
She reached over the short distance between them and grabbed his forearm. The energy he had imagined as a golden blaze came in the form of a jerk, almost as if she were trying to pull him closer to her. "That was the best. Game. Ever!" she announced. "I shall make you a doiled mat to go underneath your ship. You deserve it!"
"You're going to make a doily?" Governor Pryce said derisively.
"Doiled mat," Viita corrected her with a laugh of his own. "Get your lace terms right, Governor. Next thing, you'll be calling it tatting. You'll offend the lace capital of the galaxy."
A bevvy of laughs went up around them.
Luxsolaria released his arm. She pushed back her chair and stood up, creating distance between them for the first time since they had their showdown. He could almost physically feel the retreat. "I have to go measure the model," she said, before leaving to inspect the dias.
"I don't have any lace made by her," Viita said with a pout. "You'll be one up on me, there Grand Admiral."
"Two up," Governor Pryce said. "He already beat you at Snooks."
Viita laughed. "Yes, he did!" He gave a small bow, putting his hand on his heart. "If you will excuse me, I have to get her home. The two of you have been at this all night."
"What?" Pryce asked with a chuckle. "Will her dress turn to rags at the stroke of midnight?"
"It is already well past midnight, Governor Pryce," Thrawn informed her.
She pursed her lips together and looked away from him.
"Something like that," Viita said, answering Pryce's question and turning to leave.