AN: Sorry for the long gap between updates, guys. I won't bore you with the details of my personal life, but there's been a lot going on and I just couldn't even pick up a pen to write anything, for a while. Things are slowly improving and I'm glad to be getting back to writing again, though. Thank you to those who followed/reviewed/favorited while I've been away. I normally try to thank you all individually, but I honestly have lost track in all the mayhem that has been going on. Sorry! I still appreciate your feedback greatly.

Chapter 4

Chiara and Sev'asth'raki spent six uneventful hours on patrol duty. Some pilots found patrol duty to be boring, she knew, but she loved the quiet peace of deep space and sensation of being among the stars. The only thing she enjoyed more than flying among the stars was lying on the beach in Thrawn's arms, looking up that the dancing lights that dotted the night sky of Crustai. If he could be here with me in this fighter, I think that would make this perfect, she reflected as they wove between the numerous asteroids that surrounded the base on their way back.

Once back inside the force field, Chiara settled the fighter back into place in the line of clawcraft, taking care to match the angle of the other fighters exactly. Precision flying was a hallmark of the Chiss pilots and they never missed the chance to point out the slightest slip. She knew they meant no disrespect by it, though, and enjoyed the challenges their high expectations presented her. In fact, she was honored by the fact that they held her to the same expectations to which they held themselves, knowing that it was an indication of their acceptance of her; they never expected races or people they considered inferior to meet the exacting demands of Chiss people.

She leaped down from the fighter without waiting for the techs to bring the ladder up to the fighter. They watched her with amused smiles, knowing she seldom waited for them and always marveling at the fact that she could leap so far and walk off as if nothing had happened. The transport had returned from the Vagaari ship, she noted, and was nestled back in its normal place just inside the hangar bay doors. Considering the time, it was likely that she would find Thrawn back in their quarters or in the hangar viewing room with the humans. Given the fact that he didn't meet her as she stepped back into the base proper, she decided he was probably in their quarters and turned that way.

She found sitting in their living quarters with the lights dimmed, staring intently at a sculpture that seemed to writhe before her eyes, flicking this way and that and changing colors as it did so. She stopped just inside the door, studying Thrawn's face as he analyzed the artwork, seemingly oblivious to her presence. His strong profile was illuminated by the faint glow emitted by the sculpture, the shifting colors casting an odd hue on his blue skin.

She waited patiently for him to acknowledge her presence for a few moments, but he remained engrossed in his study. When she opened her mouth to speak, he held up a hand to silence her, his glowing eyes never moving from the morphing sculpture. I guess he does know I'm here, she thought, a bit surprised he had noticed her when he was so intent. But, then, I really shouldn't be surprised; he always seems to be aware of what's going on around him.

She waited quietly for another few minutes before he finally turned to face her. "Chiara," he greeted her warmly. "Thank you for your patience. I trust you had an uneventful patrol?"

Chiara shrugged as she moved to join him, sinking down beside him on the couch and slipping one arm around him. "Uneventful enough." She nodded towards the sculpture. "Did you find anything of interest while examining the treasure?"

"The humans were able to identify artwork from an additional four worlds from your Republic and the surrounding area. In total, the artwork of no fewer than fifteen worlds is represented in the plunder," Thrawn told her gravely. "I suspect we will find the technologies of countless more as we complete our inventory of other treasures. If the Vagaari have indeed preyed on so many worlds, who knows what technology they may have picked up along the way? They could be a dangerous threat by the time they reach the Ascendancy and make a move against us, yet military doctrine would have us stand by and watch as they destroy countless worlds and millions of lives and become even stronger. It is folly."

Chiara ran her fingers soothingly through his short, glossy hair, picking up on the subtle and familiar note of frustration in his voice. He saw Chiss military doctrine as something that frequently held him back from protecting his people and she knew that he feared this ideal would ultimately bring about the destruction of his people. "I know. You will find a way around the rules of engagement, though, you always do," she told him confidently, her fingertips sliding down the back of his neck to work at the knots of tension in his muscular shoulders. She nodded towards the sculpture convulsing before them as she worked, watching as the shifting colors stained her tunic with fluctuatings patterns of colors and light. "Now, what is this, our newest decoration? I didn't think High Command would let you keep any of the art."

"No, I will have to return it before the ship is sent to Csilla," he told her, a look of regret crossing his face even as he relaxed beneath her practiced touch. "I wished to study it in more depth, though, so I brought it here. I can have it for a few weeks, at least."

"It's lovely," Chiara murmured, watching the colors morph from blue to green to red and then to a vivid purple. Each change of color started at the center of the sculpture and moved outward in brilliant waves, washing dazzling hues across the shifting surface. "Do you know where it is from?"

Thrawn shook his head, his eyes never leaving the sculpture. "No. I have never seen anything like it before. The stark differences in psyche that I see in this piece are puzzling. I cannot reconcile the physical differences I see reflected in this work, either."

"Like what?" she asked, leaning forward to study the sculpt, trying to see what it was that he saw.

"The being that created this clearly saw far into the ultraviolet spectrum, yet just as obviously had limited perception of intensity of light. That is a combination I have never yet seen. In addition to this, the creator seems to have an extra set of arms, yet only three fingers on each hand, which is also quite unusual. The disparities of the emotional states that are evident are also quite fascinating; I do not believe I have ever met a single species capable of feeling such variety and intensity of emotions. Normally, those who exhibit such intense emotions are very limited in the range of what they can feel or express; this work shows none of that restriction," Thrawn explained.

"Interesting," Chiara murmured. "Could it be that this was created by two different species working together?"

"I doubt it. There is a total lack of strife present in this work and such conflict is nearly always present to some degree or other when two differing species work together on such a project," he told her. "No matter how similar two species may seem, they never see entirely eye-to-eye."

Chiara arched one eyebrow at him. "As you and I have approved many times over."

Thrawn chuckled in wry amusement. "That we certainly have," he agreed.

Chiara woke with a start, carefully disentangling herself from Thrawn's arms before she sat up, not wanting to disturb his sleep. She couldn't tell if the dream she'd had was a nightmare or a vision from the Force. She so rarely had visions that it was often hard for her to tell the difference between the two. In this instance, it was only a fleeting glimpse, but one that filled her with foreboding; she'd seen a Dark Jedi using the Force the strangle Thrawn as he sat in his command chair aboard the Springhawk. She hadn't been able to see the Dark Jedi in the dream or vision and had been helpless to do anything to save Thrawn as he slowly had the life choked out of him.

She glanced down to where he lay sleeping, oblivious to her distress. She traced a finger across his throat as if brushing away the lingering cobwebs of the dream and the invisible hand that had closed around it. It must have been a dream, she told herself. There haven't been any Dark Jedi in a long time. And, even if there were, what would they be doing all the way out here in the Unknown Regions? Still, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that lingered.

Glancing at the chrono, Chiara decided that trying to go back to sleep wasn't worth it; they would be getting up in two hours and she doubted she would be able to shake the image of Thrawn being slowly strangled to death long enough to fall asleep, anyway. Instead, she pressed her lips to his forehead and slid out of bed as quietly as she could. Thrawn stirred slightly as she retrieved her lightsaber and a set of clothes, but he quickly settled back into a deeper sleep. Chiara slipped into the fresher to dress and tame her long tresses back into a braid that fell nearly to her waist. She pulled her soft, tall boots on and padded silently to through their bedroom to rummage through her drawer for the remote she had constructed shortly after their escapade on the surface of Csilla in the midst of a blizzard. It had taken quite a lot of tinkering to get the device right, but she had eventually come up with a design that worked fairly well for lightsaber training. With one last glance at Thrawn's slumbering form, she slipped out into the corridor and headed for the exercise and training area.

She encountered only a handlful of warriors as she made her way through the base due to the hour, but she knew and greeted each one of them by name. When she reached the training room, she wasn't surprised to find it deserted; it was still several hours before the next group of warriors would begin their shifts and most were probably still sleeping. Enjoying the solitude that was often such a rare and coveted luxury on a base, Chiara flicked on the remote and watched as it zipped around her, waiting for her signal to attack. She let her eyes drift closed and relaxed into the Force, letting it fill her and flow through her body. She felt the familiar weight of her lightsaber in her hand, intensely aware of where the engravings on the hilt pressed into her palm. She could see the brilliant, silvery blade in her mind's eye as she ignited the weapon with a familiar snap-hiss. A tingle of warning from the Force warned her as the remote swept in, spitting tiny, low-powered laser bolts at her. She leapt into action, her movements guided by the Force as her lightsaber whirled and spun through the air to deflect the stinging bolts. Following it's programming, the remote gradually stepped up the intensity of its attacks, going from a dozen bolts per minute to a steady barrage of tiny green darts. Chiara moved with a dancer's ease, her lightsater weaving a defensive net about her to keep the laserbolts at bay.

Chiara's muscles were beginning to ache and her breath was getting short when Thrawn appeared nearly an hour later. Grateful for the distraction, she shut down her lightsaber and switched the remote into standby.

"I thought I might find you here," Thrawn said as he halted a few paces away, his eyes taking in the sweat that drenched her bodysuit and the droplets which clung to her brow. "Why are you up so early?"

"I had a bad dream and knew I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep," she told him simply.

One blue-black eyebrow shot up. "A dream? Or a vision?"

She shook her head. "I'm fairly certain it was nothing more than a dream. The setting and the people in it - it couldn't possibly be real."

"If it disturbed you enough that you couldn't go back to sleep, you should have woken me," he chided her gently, closing the remaining distance between them and brushing backa sweat-soaked lock of hair that had escaped from the braid.

"You need your sleep. Besides, I needed a little space and some exercise to clear my head," she said, plucking the remote out of the air and shutting it down.

Thrawn didn't comment any further, but she could feel his appreciate on her as she deposited her lightsaber and remote on one of the benches against the wall. "Would you like a little more exercise?" He asked as she moved to join him again, inclining his head towards one of the sparring mats.

"Would you like me to beat you mercilessly?" Chiara quipped with a grin, her fatigue and aching muscles quickly forgotten.

"When do you ever do anything else?" Thrawn asked sardonically.

"Maybe one of these days you will beat me," Chiara told him, her sapphire eyes dancing with mischief. "Of course, that will probably be about the same time that Csilla turns into a tropical oasis."

Thrawn shot her a mock glare as they stepped over to the mat and assumed defensive stances. "We shall see about that."

They sparred for nearly an hour, their mock battle raging back and forth as Thrawn sought to find a way around Chiara's Jedi reflexes. Over the years, he had learned her typical defensive moves, but he had yet to find a way to use that knowledge effectively against her; every time he tried, her Jedi reflexes were enough to keep her out of his reach. He enjoyed the challenge though and constantly sought to find new moves and innovative ways of trying to defeat her. Every now and then, he did manage to surprise her and pin her for a moment, but she always escaped from his grasp. When she dropped him to the mat for the fifth time on this occasion, he finally admitted defeat for the day.

"Enough," he gasped, trying to slide out from under her weight as she held him pinned to the mat. "I do still need to walk to perform my duties, today. How is it that you are light enough for me to carry, yet you can still hold me down?"

Chiara grinned down at him, keeping a tight grip on his wrists and settling herself a bit more firmly onto his chest to keep him in place. "It's all in how you use it," she told him, leaning forward and kissing his nose. He struggled against her grip, his glowing eyes glittering with desire as he tried unsuccessfully to follow her motion and reach her lips.

"You are a nuisance," he growled in frustration, still trying to free his wrists from her restraining hands. Chiara loosened her grip just enough to allow him to break free; he took advantage of his newly reclaimed freedom to give himself the leverage to flip her onto her back, pinning her beneath him. He kissed her passionately, his weight pressing her into the mat. The door slid open at that inopportune moment to admit one of the warriors who had arrived early for the morning training session, forcing Thrawn to break away from her. Chiara heard him mutter something under his breath about timing as he got to his feet and offered her his hand.

Chiara deliberately lost her balance as she stood and caught herself against his chest, laughing a bit as his hands automatically went to her waist to steady her. "I heard the base is running a bit low on water," she whispered in his ear, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. Their quarters was the only one on base that had the luxury of a shower that could use water, as opposed to the sonic showers that used by the rest of the base's inhabitants. It was a perk of Thrawn's command that Chiara thoroughly enjoyed. "Perhaps we should shower together for conservation purposes."

They weren't really low on water and Thrawn knew it. Even if they were, there was a more than adequate supply on the planet and having their store replenished was a relatively easy task. "Indeed, I would say it is our duty," Thrawn said, keeping a straight face as he shifted his grip to her elbow and steered her towards the door.

"Thrawn," Chiara said as she pulled a tunic and a pair of the fitted pants she favored from the drawer. A drop of water slid down her back, dribbling from the still-damp hair that hung down her back. "Could we go down to Crustai again, at some point soon? I'd love to spend a day or two hiking through the mountains."

Thrawn stepped up behind her, his arms reaching around her as he opened his own drawer and retrieved his rank insignias from their resting place in the corner. "Soon," he promised, his lips caressing her bare shoulder. "We can hardly leave while our guests are here, though. It will have to wait until they return to the Republic."

She leaned back against his chest. "You're right," she sighed, closing her eyes as he folded her in his arms, holding her close. "I don't think they're the type that would enjoy going with us, either. At least, not Qennto and Ferasi. Car'das might enjoy it."

"Indeed. And taking them with us would hardly serve the purpose of giving us time alone," Thrawn pointed out.

"There is that, too," she agreed. "I suppose we had better get going before the Aristocra decides to come over from his ship and starts looking for you." She plucked the rank insignias from his fingers and turned to face him. He studied her face as she pinned them to his collar, carefully checking to be sure they were even.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, brushing his fingers against her cheek as she finished. She blushed and glanced down. Thrawn sighed and shifted his hand to grip her chin gently, bringing her gaze back up to his. "I wish you wouldn't do that. I'm trying to compliment you and you act as if you are ashamed."

"I'm sorry," she told him, fighting the urge to look down again. "I know you mean it as a compliment; it's just that almost four hundred years of being a Jedi and not being able to accept such overtures forms habits that are hard to undo. I still find myself slipping back into that mindset, occasionally," she confessed.

"I know, Elor'endil, and that is why I point it out; unless I bring it to your attention, you will never unlearn those reactions," Thrawn told her gently, releasing her chin and letting his hand drift to her shoulder. He kissed her forehead and stepped away. "Now, get dressed so we can head to the mess hall, please."

They were sitting together in the mess hall discussing the schedule for the day when the door slid open to admit two yellow-clad warriors.

"Uhoh," Chiara murmured, suppressing a grimace as the Aristocra stepped through, surveying the occupants of the room with a haughty look.

Thrawn cocked one blue-black eyebrow at her. "What?"

"We have a visitor," she told him, inclining her head slightly towards where the Aristocra was standing. She didn't need to tell him who it was. "He's headed this way," she warned as the Aristocra caught sight of them and started towards them. "Good morning, Aristocra," she greeting the regal Chiss in nearly perfect Cheunh as he came to a halt near their table. At least the sounds of those particular words weren't quite so difficult to get out correctly.

Thrawn nodded gravely to the Aristocra. "What can I do for you, Aristocra?"

"I need to be taken to the planet," the Aristocra informed him curtly, ignoring Chiara's greeting. "You will assign one of your shuttles and a pilot to me for the day."

"As you command, Aristocra," Thrawn said mildly, his face and voice betraying none of the annoyance that Chiara could sense from him. "When would you like to leave?"

"Immediately," the Aristocra bit out, throwing Chiara a contemptuous glance.

Chiara held out a hand to stop Thrawn from getting up. "I'll make the arrangements," she told him. She could finish her breakfast later; he wouldn't have that luxury once he started his duties in another twenty minutes. "I wouldn't want you to miss the transmission you have scheduled with High Command."

"Yes, that would helpful," Thrawn said smoothly, suppressing his smile; he had no such transmission scheduled and they both knew it. If the Aristocra found out, he would certainly be irate; that just meant she would have to keep him busy enough that he wouldn't notice.

"Will twenty minutes be soon enough, Aristocra?" Chiara asked smoothly, getting to her feet.

The Chiss glared at her for a moment, clearly thrown off balance by this sudden change in his plans - clearly, he had been intending to disrupt Thrawn's schedule. His petty attitude irked Chiara, but she stretched out to the Force for calm. There is no passion, there is serenity, she reminded herself.

"Make it fifteen," he finally said before turning on a booted heel and striding back out the door. His bodyguards turned in perfect unison and followed him out.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Thrawn asked her, one eyebrow raised.

Chiara flashed him a smile. "Of course. We both know the Aristocra is going to arrive five minutes early to try and catch me off guard. It will be a race to see who can be ready first. I had better get going if I'm going to win."

Thrawn shook his head at her. "Always the reckless one. You should have let me do this. Still, I thank you. Go on, I will clear your dishes," he told her, brushing his fingers over hers.

"Wish me luck," she told him, squeezing his hand gently. She gave him her most reckless smile and got to her feet, reaching for her comlink as she headed off.

"Reckless," Thrawn called after her softly, still shaking his head in spite of the smile tugging at his lips.

Thrawn was waiting for her when she got back to their quarters that evening.

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking up from his study of the sculpture as soon as the door opened. "Mitth'is'arla told me that the Aristocra insisted you be his pilot."

Chiara dropped onto the couch next to him and heaved a sigh of frustration and weariness. "It was miserable," she told him bluntly, curling up in his waiting arms and resting her head against his shoulder. "I think he did it just so he could torture me all day and I would have no way to get away from him. I have never had my patience as sorely tested as I did today, and that is saying a lot. What did I ever do to make him hate me so much?"

Thraw's arms tightened around her comfortingly. "Try not to take it personally. He really doesn't like outsiders."

"How long do I have to be here before he stops considering me an outsider? What else do I have to do?" Chiara asked in frustration. "I've given everything to the Chiss and still he treats me like dirt. He spent the entire day sniping at my piloting skills and pronunciation or trying to goad me into admitting that I'm behind the strikes you have made."

"If only that surprised me," Thrawn said, shaking his head. "Perhaps it would be wise for you to stay out of his path when he is on the base."

"That's what I've been doing for the most part, but it was clear that he was intent on making you miserable today and I was trying to run interference. I figured I could just get him off onto the shuttle and we would be rid of him for the day. I didn't expect it to backfire on me so badly," she told him.

"I appreciate your intentions, Chiara, but perhaps you should let me handle the Aristocra in the future," Thrawn suggested. "I am perfectly capable of handling him and there is a great deal he cannot say to me without breaking the rules of propriety. Few such rules exist for interactions with non-Chiss, though."

"Everyone else seems to accept me and apply the rules of interaction to me. He could at least grant me that much respect, even if he doesn't like me," Chiara grumbled.

Thrawn kissed her cheek. "You are too capable of a warrior," he told. "I suspect the Aristocra feels that your presence is a threat; if you ever decided to move against the Ascendancy and recruited other Jedi to help you, you could raze many of our bases and colonies to the ground before we could put a stop to it. You know too much of our policies and defenses."

"And what is my alternative? To sit back on Csilla and let you and your warriors go into danger without me, knowing some of them won't come back alive if I'm not there to defend them, just so your politicians don't feel threatened by me?" Chiara demanded.

Thrawn raised his hands in defense. "I'm not suggesting that you should do so, Elor'endil, I'm merely pointing out what it is that the Aristocra likely sees and why he behaves as he does. It is not an excuse for his treatment of you, but perhaps it explains the motives behind it."

She snorted. "If he is afraid that I might destroy the Ascendancy, one would think he would be trying not to make me angry."

"Unless he thinks he can drive you away from the Chiss entirely," Thrawn pointed out. "Misguided as he is, he is simply doing what he believes is in the best interest of our people."

"You can't keep out the rest of the galaxy forever, Thrawn. The Chiss are going to have to learn to accept outsiders, at some point. The sooner you accept that, the better off you will be."

"I agree. Unfortunately, I cannot see how to sway the rest of the Ascendancy on this when I cannot even convince them of the necessity of addressing the threats that are pressing in around our borders," he said.

"You will find a way," she told him. "The Chiss may be a proud and stubborn species, but you're more stubborn than any of the rest of them."

That earned her two raised eyebrows. "Am I, now?"

"Yes, you are. And don't look offended, you're stubborn in a good way," she told him, seeing the expression on his face. "If it weren't for your refusal to allow standard Chiss practices to dictate your actions, you would never offered me your protection. If you weren't so stubborn, you would just give in to their insistence that pre-emptive strikes are immoral, despite your own beliefs. Your stubbornness is part of what makes you strong and makes you willing to follow your own conscience, despite the consequences."

Thrawn seemed to consider this for a moment. "I concede your point. In many ways, choosing you liberated me from the constraints of our military doctrine; if I was still seeking to attain a position in High Command, I am not certain that I would risk the strikes we have made in defense of our the Ascendancy."

"There, see? I'm reckless and you're stubborn," Chiara said, adopting a lighter tone and feeling some of her bad mood lift from her shoulders.

"Indeed," Thrawn said drily. "Although you certainly have your own stubborn streak, as well. Now, it is time for the language lesson. If you wish to stay here, in light of your day, I will make your excuses to our guests."

Chiara shook her head. "No, I'll come. It would be good for me to get out of here and associate with people who actually treat me with respect." She didn't add that she wasn't about to leave him with Ferasi if she could avoid it. Even though Thrawn had been subtly trying to dissuade any interest Ferasi might have taken in him, Chiara still preferred to be present when the two of them were together, not for lack of trust in Thrawn, but so that she could monitor the Corellian woman's reactions to him.

She supected that Thrawn saw and understood much of this as he studied her face. "As you wish," he said simply, getting to his feet and leading her towards the door.