You had been on the Chimaera for about a month, and were getting to know some of the crew. You hadn't met the entire crew, of course, but you had met most of the senior officers. You liked most of the crew members you had met so far, but there was one Senior Lieutenant who made you feel uncomfortable. Ross Lipkey. He was the man you had noticed staring at you the first day you had been on the bridge. Ross was a rather large man. Overweight, but not grotesquely so. His face and thinning sandy brown hair always seemed to be in need of a good washing. You assumed he took showers, but somehow he always seemed to be in the same state of greasy. You would place his age at about thirty, almost twice your age.
About a week after you had been on the Chimaera, you had seen the Senior Lieutenant walking down the corridor. He had paused to introduce himself, and had been nothing but polite in his words and mannerisms, except for his eyes. His eyes had roved up and down you, and had seemed to be taking in your shape and curves. Later you told yourself you were imagining things.
On a slightly happier note, you decided that you liked Mira, your maid. She was optimistic when you were feeling down, and she seemed to know just what food to bring you at any given time. She had an excellent eye for fashion, which was very helpful for you since you had lived all your life on a small backwater planet and had no idea what imperial fashion for high ranking women might be. Aside from Mira's occasional saucy or suggestive remarks about you and Thrawn, she made an excellent maid and companion.
About a month after your arrival on the Chimaera, You sit quietly contemplating while Mira brushes out your hair for the night. When you first arrived on the Chimaera you hadn't expected to like Thrawn. You had been quietly resigned. But now, you were wondering if you had possibly been hasty in your judgment of the Grand Admiral.
Thrawn, you were coming to realize, was more complex than you had assumed he would be. Thrawn was polite and understanding. He always took the time to walk you back to your room when the two of you spent time together, and he had never forced anything upon you. He didn't just go about making decisions for you, and he had never touched you in any forceful or harmful way. You were grateful for this, and knew that if he did decide to harm you at any point, no one on the ship would argue in your defense. He was a Grand Admiral and you were his betrothed, he could do as he wished as far as any of them were concerned.
"Would you like anything before you go to bed, miss?" asked Mira, shaking you from your thoughts.
"Just one thing, Mira, could you please run through tomorrow's schedule, please?" you ask your maid. As you walk over to your bed.
"Of course," Mira says with a small smile. "Tomorrow morning you have scheduled use of the pool at 0900, at 01100 you have an hour long painting class where you will be learning a little more about watercolor paint. At 0200 you have a yoga class. The rest of your afternoon is then free until 0700 when Grand Admiral Thrawn has requested that you join him for dinner."
"That should give me plenty of time to read after dinner," you say with a small smile.
"I don't know, miss," says Mira cheekily. "You and the Grand Admiral might be, ahem, occupied for quite some time."
When you look at her in mock consternation, Mira wiggles her eyebrows up and down suggestively.
"Aren't there rules against speaking about superior officers that way?" you ask her, feeling your cheeks heat up in what is surely a blush.
Mira waves her hand dismissively. "No one will find out."
"I could tell Thrawn," you reply.
Mira waves her hand dismissively. "The Grand Admiral wouldn't take any notice of a lowly servant such as myself. Besides, why would he mind my insinuating that you and him spend your evenings making love, you are engaged to be married."
"I'm going to bed," you inform your maid. "Good night." And with that, you throw a pillow at Mira then toss the covers over your head.
Mira giggled as she walked around your room, neatening a few last minute things before she walked out of your room to go to her own, the door hissing shut behind her.
The next day began normally enough. You had breakfast then went swimming, you were finding the pool available on the ship to be quite a nice way to exercise. You tried to exercise at least twice a day as there wasn't much physical activity when you were living on a ship. After swimming, you walked to a small cafeteria, one of many positioned around the Chimaera, to get yourself an early lunch.
You were quite fond of getting food, then just finding a table in the back to read and quietly observe the comings and goings of the Chimaera's crew.
You sat down at a table aftering ordering lunch, then pulled out your datapad to continue a book you had been reading earlier. It was an incredibly cheesy romance, and you weren't quite sure if you wanted to stick with it or ditch the book.
After your food arrived, you ate slowly and surveyed the people. There were only three people in the cafeteria besides you, most people probably wouldn't be eating for another hour. There was an older looking man, you would assume mid fifties, sitting at a table in one corner who seemed lost in his own thoughts. The other two were middle aged women conversing quietly at a table near the center of the room.
You had looked down at your datapad, internally groaning at the stupidity of the characters in the romance, so you didn't notice the man who walked into the cafeteria. At least, you didn't notice him until he walked up to your table. It was Ross Lipkey, his hair in that same greasy looking, slightly overlong state it was always in. Somehow, he always seemed to be where you were in spite of your best attempts at avoiding him.
"Can I help you with something?" you asked stiffly once it was clear that he wasn't going to leave, and you couldn't really pretend not to see him anymore.
"Nothing really," Ross replied with a smile. "It's just that we seem to see each other so often, but we never really talk."
"I'm sure you are very busy, Lieutenant," you reply.
"Come now, surely we don't need to be that formal," the greasy looking man said with a smirk. "Call me Ross."
"I don't think that's entirely appropriate," you say with a frown.
"Now that is neither here nor there," the Senior Lieutenant said as he took a step toward you. "I have a proposition for you."
You look up nervously, feeling as though your seated position puts you at a disadvantage. "I'm not entirely sure if I am interested in this proposition."
"You haven't even heard it yet," Ross objects. "You are being forced into this marriage, I'm sure no one would judge if you had a little something going on on the side, particularly before the wedding even happens. Thrawn would never need to know."
"The Grand Admiral is rather perceptive," you snap back, placing special emphasis on Thrawn's title, noticing that Ross had chosen to refer to the Chiss by his first name. "And besides, what makes you think that I even want something extra going on on the side."
"Surely a girl must get lonely at night," Ross says as he leans down to be closer to you. You push your chair back, standing up suddenly. The vile man just leans in closer and continues speaking. "I doubt Thrawn is choosing to warm your bed, the man's too stiff and uptight to let something like that go on before the wedding. I could help you, keep you company. See to your needs." Ross had leaned in so close the you could feel his breath on your ear. You tense at the feeling. Ross puts a hand on your waist, attempting to draw you closer to him.
You take a step back, freeing yourself from his grasp. "You forget yourself, Lieutenant," you hiss at Ross. "I intend to be faithful to my husband and even if I didn't, I certainly wouldn't go about dallying with the likes of you."
With that, you stalk away before he can reply. It doesn't appear that any of the other people in the cafeteria had noticed the short confrontation. That was good, as you didn't want any rumors spreading.
The interaction left you feeling out of sorts for the rest of the day, but when anyone asked, you told them you were tired. Everyone seemed to believe you, except for Thrawn. You had joined the Chiss Grand Admiral for dinner, and ate mostly in silence until midway through the meal when Thrawn set down his fork and steepled his fingers, regarding you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place. After a few moments of studying you in silence Thrawn asked,
"Is anything amiss?"
You look up at him from across the table and shake your head. "I'm fine, just tired."
Thrawn tilts his head to the side, continuing to look at you as he says, "I will have you know that I have your best interests at heart. If there is anything making you uncomfortable, please feel free to tell me. Anything, or anyone."
You look down, unable to meet Thrawn's piercing red eyes for a moment longer. Does he somehow know what happened? You don't want to tell him, afraid that he might think you somehow encouraged Ross's advances.
When Thrawn says nothing, simply waiting for your response, you shake your head.
"You are quite sure?" the Chiss asks you. "There's nothing bothering you?"
You shake your head once again, still not meeting his eyes.
"Very well," Thrawn says, picking up his fork to continue eating. "Just know, you can always feel free to come to me with any needs or concerns. I will always take care of you. I promise."
Later that night, you lay awake contemplating. Remembering the look in those red eyes of his. Remembering his promise to care for you, you almost regret not telling him about Ross's unwelcome advances. You fall asleep picturing those piercing red eyes.
