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admiral-arelami · 21 hours ago

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Chapter 10

Wake up babe, a fic new arc just dropped.

Title: Buried in Ice

Characters: Ronan, Ba'kif, Eli and others

Chapters: 10/?

Summary: Ronan adjusts to life with the Chiss when a sudden revelation leads him to realize that his fate is not as firmly in his hands as he'd thought it was.

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If one were to ask what defined the landscape of Csilla, the first word that would come to mind would be ‘ice’.

That hadn’t always been the case, Ba’kif mused, but the last memories of a world that was different were by now forty generations removed and the planet had adapted to the change much like its inhabitants. Through sheer will and tenacity of spirit.

Many of those who visited described the place as unsettling – the stretching white-blue seas and jutting black rock left enough of an impression in the short time it took to move underground that even the warm, luxurious underbelly of the capital couldn’t chase the unease away. More of a discomfort of the mind than any physical one.

Those that had lived long enough or were born planetside knew none of it. To them the planet’s most striking characteristic was no more than background noise, or else a quaint curiosity if they ever thought about it. Pilots learned to navigate in snow storms and adjust to the high albedo but they were about the only ones affected by the planet’s climate.

Some born on Csaplar even developed an intolerance to standing under an open sky – the lack of ceiling made them feel paranoid and exposed, some describing feeling like they were going to ‘float away’.

They weren’t the only ones that felt that way, Ba’kif decided wryly as he gazed out the window of his darkened office.

Everything around him was firmly nailed down by gravity and yet his thoughts felt like they had mixed with the atmosphere’s molecules by now.

The light on his desk’s inbuilt comm blinked another low priority call and he let it pass over to his aide.

In the middle of the desk, where he’d left it a few minutes ago, was his questis and the report that had been delivered with frantic urgency that morning.

He scratched his gloved fingers over his beard. The frigid air from the nearby open window kept him grounded and he listened to the sounds of distant ice cracking over enormous lakes – strange bird-like warbling sounds that resembled charric shots and pulsed in time with his headache.

Thrawn missing. A planet destroyed by a superweapon. That same superweapon going up in flames shortly after, at the hands of a seemingly negligible enemy force.

Floating away, he thought again with dry amusement. When everything around them reached such levels of absurdity, the notion didn’t seem as ridiculous as it did at first.

With a sigh, he turned back to his desk and keyed the code for Csaplar air control into the inbuilt comm. He thanked the operator and cut the call when he had what he needed, turning back to the sprawling viewport.

The Steadfast had just touched down and was going through its final landing procedures. By now Ar’alani was probably on her way to his office, the same grim, hopeless cloud hanging over her as it did over Ba’kif.

They needed to talk. And they needed to grieve.

But first and foremost they needed to plan.

Grief would be the background noise filtered out under the necessity of carrying on during a war. They would allow space for it later, in the small pockets of time set aside for rest, which meant that rest itself wouldn’t be coming anytime soon, though that they were all used to by now.

The entry hatch announced Ar’alani’s arrival with a buzz and he reached for the small panel next to the questis to admit her. She’d arrived quicker than he expected but he supposed urgency was the only thing on her mind right now. Only it wasn’t Ar’alani standing there when the hatch slid open and Ba’kif turned instead to stare into the weary, dark-rimmed eyes of Mid-Commander Eli Vanto.

“My apologies, I know this is a bad time,” the human tried, looking uncharacteristically lost and distraught at the threshold of the office. “The Admiral said I could talk to you while she took care of the docking arrangements for the Steadfast… Is that alright?”

Ba’kif stared at him a moment longer.

Out of all of them, Vanto must have been hit the hardest by Thrawn’s loss. Not by virtue of knowing him the longest but just for the sheer impact he’d had on his life.

This was a courtesy they very well owed him, Ba’kif supposed.

He sighed and pointed a stiff hand at the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

“Come in, Mid-Commander,” he said, putting some strength back into his voice. “There is a lot to discuss.”

“I know where my duty lies. I’m still just as determined to carry it out. Our world – my world is probably more vulnerable than ever. Doing everything we can to stop the Grysks is the best I can do for them now.”

From across the desk, Ba’kif nodded.

Part of him had expected that. Another part wondered what Thrawn had done to engender such loyalty in the man and why those same powers of persuasion hadn’t been there when he’d needed to campaign with the Aristocra. Perhaps if he had used them then, they wouldn’t have ended up losing him, Ba’kif thought bitterly but suppressed the thought by force.

It wouldn’t do to give in to that bitterness now.

It was true that Thrawn could have expended more efforts to find common ground with his people. But it was just as true that they could have done more to accept what he was. Maybe then they wouldn’t have to sift through puzzle pieces to try and figure out what was – had been – going on in his mind.

Or maybe they were never going to fully understand, regardless of the circumstances.

Somehow, Ba’kif reflected, that thought smarted most of all.

“I am glad to hear you feel this way.” He twined his fingers over his desk, finding his balance again. “There are difficult times ahead and we all agree it’s more imperative than ever that we stop our enemy’s advance. I hope you know what that will entail?” Ba’kif raised an eyebrow and stared hard into Vanto’s face.

Without Thrawn, the fickle hope of allying with Vanto’s Empire had become all but a pipe dream. Ba’kif was more than aware of it but whether or not Vanto realized it was a different matter.

“I understand.” Vanto nodded solemnly. “And it doesn’t change my decision.”

The words hung heavy and determined in the air between them.

“Very well,” Ba’kif said. “In that case all we ask of you is that you continue to do what you’ve been doing so far. This news carries great implications for your Empire’s future but our position here has hardly changed.”

He looked for any signs of a reaction on Vanto’s face but the man had gone eerily silent, staring down at his lap.

“Something on your mind, Mid-Commander?”

Vanto wet his lip and hesitated for a moment.

“Thrawn suspected something like this. He suspected the Emperor was up to something but… we were never really able to pinpoint what.”

“Would it have made a difference if you had?”

At that, Vanto looked up and a complicated emotion flickered across his face.

“I suppose not.”

“Then there’s no use brooding over melted ice.”

There was plenty of use in hypothesizing what Thrawn’s position in relation to that project had been and just how much he knew about it. But that was a question for another time. Perhaps one they could someday ask directly if the universe had decided to take mercy on Thrawn and he was still alive out there.

The report was vague about it. But if his agents were vague that could only mean that they were stumped themselves and that didn’t bode well for Thrawn’s future. For now, all they had were his envoys and the few crumbs of information they could provide them with. The only hope of clarifying what his people’s panicked report had been talking about.

Somehow, he reflected without a speck of amusement, the two humans’ value kept rising steadily the longer Thrawn spent away from them. A more cynical mind would come to the conclusion that Thrawn had set up a fail-safe for this exact occasion.

One who understood their Empire’s military, Ba’kif thought as his gaze lingered on Vanto, and one who could navigate its government… But that was yet another one in a line of speculations that Ba’kif had tired of contemplating.

Most of Thrawn’s plans only made sense upon coming to fruition. And with the man gone, there was no telling if that would even happen at all.

“Speaking of the report,” Vanto said, as though reading his mind. “Has anyone informed Secretary Lyron about it? I know this isn’t our primary consideration right now but there are parts that concern him directly and I worry about how he might react.”

Ba’kif let the question stew for a moment, the various implications of it twisting and weaving around his mind. The truth was, he was giving himself some time to adjust before he had to deal with that problem.

“No, he’s not aware of it yet. I intend to let him know but not immediately.”

“If I may, perhaps I should be the one to tell him,” Vanto hurried to offer. “He may take it better coming from me.”

Ba’kif pretended to think about it with polite neutrality. He didn’t bother telling Vanto that that was the exact opposite of what he’d been thinking.

Lyron and Vanto’s relationship seemed to be a brittle thing.

Thrawn had warned them of the simmering differences of opinion, and early reports of their forced cooperation aboard the Steadfast had been littered with accounts of petty quarreling and apparent friction. Most of them were attributed to Lyron – Vanto was by far the more diplomatic of the two – but that was all the more reason why making Vanto the messenger would not be in their best interest.

“Your concern is noted.” Ba’kif picked his words carefully. “But I feel like the Secretary may appreciate some privacy to process it all. I will give it a few days for things to settle on our end. Then I’ll send him the report to read for himself.”

“I see.” Vanto seemed to agree, albeit reluctantly. “Do you think that perhaps omitting some parts may be prudent when doing so?”

“I don’t think any form of dishonesty is worth the risk that would come with it.”

Just then, the questis on the desk gave a soft ping and Ba’kif shifted his attention to the glowing device.

“It seems that Admiral Ar’alani has wrapped up with the Steadfast’s docking arrangements.” He flicked through the message on the screen. “She’s on her way here.”

Vanto pushed himself out of his chair, rising ponderously to his feet.

“I understand. I won’t take up any more of your time.”

“To my knowledge, the Steadfast will spend some time on Csaplar. You will be staying here, in the officers’ accommodations?”

“Yes, sir. I was just on my way there.”

“Very well. Get some rest, Commander. You will need it for the days to come.”

Vanto gave him a tired smile.

“Of course, sir.”

Ba’kif watched him walk to the door, his footsteps slow and dragging. There was a tense, weary tilt to his shoulders and Ba’kif could see the invisible weight hanging off them, the whisper of repressed soul-wrenching turmoil barely hidden beneath the wrinkles of his uniform.

He heaved a slow quiet breath. Sometimes his duty lied in oiling the wheels of the ever more complex and ever more treacherous machinery of their war. And sometimes it lied in doing things far more simple.

“And Mid-Commander?”

Vanto paused a step away from the hatch.

“Sir?”

Putting some gravitas behind his voice, Ba’kif turned to face him fully.

“The chiss thank you for your continued commitment. Your dedication to our people and our common cause hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

The words took a while to sink in but when they did, it was as if some of that weight had been lifted from Vanto’s shoulders and he straightened where he stood, making himself taller.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, his voice filled with brittle hope.

“I hope to one day make my presence here worth it.”

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admiral-arelami · 7 days ago

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Headcanon: What does Bentilais san Sk'ar's earned name mean?

Kaleesh naming conventions are only slightly less convoluted than those of Chiss, but we can make some general assumptions based on canon (both Legends and Mouse canon) sources:

Most of the time, Kaleesh names consist of three parts:

The first, given name

A second, short part of one syllable, three letters, generally understood to be family/clan/tribal names

The third part, which is their "earned name", a descriptor.

To use the most prominent Kaleesh as an example, Qymaen jai Sheelal (aka General Grevious), his first name is Qymaen, of the Jai clan. "Sheelal" specifically translates to "Dreamer", and refers to Qymaen's prophetic dreams.

For Qymean's soulmate, Ronderu lij Kummar, we know from her only canon source -- the Star Wars Insider article where she was introduced, that her earned name, Kummar, means "the incubus" -- as she was rumoured to have killed her tribe.

However, "incubus" may be a little inaccurate, perhaps a bad translation. It fits better with Sheelal meaning "dreamer" that Kummar would actually translate to something closer to "dream/sleep/night demon", not specifically an incubus.

It got me wondering, what could Bentilais san Sk'ar's earned name, "Sk'ar", actually mean in Kaleesh?

It's kind of obvious that "General Sk'ar" was originally supposed to be just another example of "Stabba Badguyname" used so frequently in Star Wars

Look how he grips that MotU reject with one hand! You can't help but be impressed!

After Sk'ar was retconned as a Kaleesh, however, and given a full name along the same theming as his friends Qymaen and Ronderu, however, what could "Sk'ar" actually mean?

I was talking about this on a Grievous Discord server I'm a member of, and another member had a pretty good idea though (not screenshotting, for privacy):

Discord Friend: Wait, idea: the "ar" in "Kummar" and the "ar" in "Sk'ar" are the same suffix

Me: That's very possible. Maybe the "ar" specifically means "demon" (or whatever the Kaleeshi equivalent is).

So we know "Kummar" means "incubus", but might be more accurately described as sleep/night/dream demon

Maybe "sk'ar" is something along the lines of "giant demon"? That would certainly suit him!

Sk'ar is 10 feet tall, after all. He's a big boi.

Then I thought, if "Kummar" is badly translated to "incubus", maybe Sk'ar's name could be translated to a specific kind of demon too.

I got it!

SK'AR MEANS BAELROG!

If you squint enough -- and picture Sk'ar with some waaaayy better artwork than "terrible 1980s comics" style -- I can see it.

This happens to work perfectly for my AU, as Sk'ar's new boss (Thrawn) has a wife (Xelarra) who just happens to be a HUGE LotR nerd, to the extent she named her pet ysalamir "Gandalf", and may have had to been talked out of naming hers and Thrawn's son "Frodo"(yes, the Lord of the Rings books exist in the GFFA in my AU. Deal with it.)

Now just picture a tiny Chiss woman, literally half Sk'ar's height and a fraction of his mass, excitedly explaining to him just what a Baelrog is when they first met -- "an exceedingly powerful fire demon/demi-god, which only another demi-god/wizard even has a hope of defeating!"

I think Sk'ar would be rather flattered by the comparison.

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