#i'M Y ELL ING I 'M Y EEEELLLLING CON AL

[carrdas]

❛ when they come for you, you have to go. ❜

deathless sentence starters ( accepting )   //   @studywar

               “GO,”  HE REPEATS THE WORD  & it fills his small room with a hollow ring. Go. Three months ago he hadn’t known a single word in Cheunh, hadn’t even known what Cheunh was, nor the Chiss, nor Thrawn. But here he is, his life inexplicably caught up in all three.

     Go. To the Vagaari. Perhaps to his death. All because Thrawn had asked him to? 

     He sits beside Thrawn on his bunk, only a hand’s breadth away, staring at the wall in front of them.

     The plan is simple enough. Lure the Vagaari into Thrawn’s trap. His role requires nothing more than his presence of mind & the long-range shuttle Thrawn had thought to provide. But the thought of going anywhere near those monsters sends all the warmth fleeing from his body. His fingers grow cold & begin to shake. His breath begins to rattle in his chest. Go to the Vagaari, slavers, murderers, cold-blooded killers, & expect to get away from them in one piece ...  go to the Vagaari, to lure them into Thrawn’s trap. 

     He wonders if Thrawn realizes what he’s asking. It only takes a glance to confirm that, yes, Thrawn knows exactly what he’s asking Jorj to do. He’d learned to read Thrawn’s expression, through hours & hours of observation, & he can detect a variety of emotions in the wearied lines of Thrawn’s face. There’s a gravity, a weight of responsibility. Grim determination. Trust. 

     It’s the trust that sends a thrum of warmth back into Jorj’s chest. It starts in his heart & spreads outward, slowly but surely. 

     Because Thrawn isn’t just trusting Jorj with his plan. He’s trusting Jorj with the fate of his people -- because Jorj firmly believes that Thrawn is right. If the Vagaari aren’t stopped here, they’ll create more pain, spread more chaos, invite more death. Who knows? Soon, they might even reach the Outer Rim of the Republic, maybe work their way even further in. He shudders at the thought. Thrawn is right: the threat the Vagaari pose is too potent to ignore. 

     Thrawn is trusting Jorj with so much more than a few secret instructions. 

     Jorj drags in a breath then releases it on a sigh as he reaches up his hand & drags it down his face. He pauses over the stubble along his jaw, fingers itching at his neck, as he once again considers the implications of all Thrawn has asked him to do. His hand drops into his lap.

     Go to the Vagaari, completely alone, lure them into his trap. 

     “Do you remember what you said to me when we talked after leaving the Darkvenge?”  he asks quietly, still recovering his breath from the paralyzing fear that accompanies all thoughts of the Vagaari. He realizes what a silly question that is & blushes, shaking his head slightly.  “I mean, you said a lot of things, but ---- you said something that I’ve been thinking about. I will do whatever necessary to protect those who depend on me.” 

     He smiles faintly, tossing it in Thrawn’s direction before looking back down to study his hands. 

     There are people depending on him now. On Jorj Car’das. 

     Maris. Rak. The Chiss ...  Thrawn. 

     Jorj understands now the compulsion to do whatever he must in order to protect them. 

     He knows that before meeting Thrawn, he’d never been particularly brave. But now he feels like he could be, he could be brave, because Thrawn asked him to be. 

     There’s a small pause in words & breath as his hand tentatively moves from its spot in his lap to rest lightly against Thrawn’s. His fingers brush gently along the back of blue skin & rest there. Jorj’s head follows & he gazes steadily into Thrawn’s crimson eyes, pulling in another, stronger breath.

     “Yeah, all right,”  he says, an edge of steel in his voice,  “when the Admiral and your brother come for me, I’ll go. I’ll go to the Vagaari.”