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yeetspace · 25 days ago

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Family: Godzilladae

Genus: Eschatolossus

A species originally thought to only have artificial specimens as the first 5 decades of research had insinuated through the Family's emergence at places of extreme man-made fallout, but it's ecological definition has broadened in recent times.

The first specimen of a mid-life male (Eschatolossus basilieus) washed up deceased, having seeming chocked to death on what was found to be the Eiko-Maru, a half-eaten freighter that had gone missing off the coast of the eastern Tokyo bay.

Following this the Bingo Maru was sent to investigate the area this vessel had registered last. All communications with the crew of the Bingo Maru ceased following an unusually delayed nightfall and a spike on all local measurement devices, no matter what they were meant to read. It was registered as lost within the hour.

Within days, these events were followed by a living specimen of the same species, a female, possibly it's mate, was seen climbing out of the horizon of Tokyo, making landfall and laying waste to the city.

The specimen was finally terminated after multiple hours of rampaging, though a means of medically induced coma, via it's entanglement in a power station's lines and exposure to high amounts of phosgene gas, leading to the creature's asphyxiation and death.

This event would lead to the creation of the EDF, which would later be turned into M̴̠͉̜̂ͅƠ̶̼̪̅͗̐̾N̵̜̥̭͖̞͍̠͌̈́̀Á̷̰͐̋R̴̬̍̾̔̋C̵̢̨̖̳̝̹̃̂̈́͜͠H̵̜̰̔̽̀. Creating a charter, a taxonomical guide to the being that were emerging amongst the Kaijuia Class, in the family of Godzilladae. Very specifically today, we shall be reviewing the files of the Eschatolossus Genus, along with some new, albeit under researched specimens.

New emergences from impossibly natural means have occurred in recent times enough so that, while not fitting what we previously designated as a prerequisite to be considered in this classification-that being evolutionary processes directly marred by man-made environmental hazards to an extent of reaching prehistoric megafauna-esque sizes- but still shows to be possession of all other defining characteristics. So much so in recent times we have take the initiative to remove the stipulation of "Human intervention" henceforth.

So, many previously sub-categorized or completely uncategorized specimens that, due to the aforementioned stipulation, were being monitored due to relevance but could not definitively fit our definitions, and so research of was not properly funded beyond discovery:

A handful of mutant creatures asexually reproducing at such rapid speeds it could literally force it's evolution into the Godzilladae classification (Eschatolossus inactus). - New York, New York; Progenitor specimen, Specimen A, terminated via low yield ordinance due to public safety factor. Multiple incubating offspring were taken into M̴̠͉̜̂ͅƠ̶̼̪̅͗̐̾N̵̜̥̭͖̞͍̠͌̈́̀Á̷̰͐̋R̴̬̍̾̔̋C̵̢̨̖̳̝̹̃̂̈́͜͠H̵̜̰̔̽̀ custody for further research. -Sydney, Australia; Specimen B, No progeny discovered. possible death before maturation due to slight physical difference between itself and Specimen A. Killed by another Godzilladae specimen that's been on file since the earliest years of this organization during its EDF time. Specimen B having been rendered paralyzed, possibly having it's thoracic vertebrae severed from the blunt force when attacked by (Eschatolossus Bellator). It was then killed when it was immolated by (Eschatolossus Bellator)'s "atomic breath", an exhalation of nuclear gasses that most members of the Godzilladea family have in some capacity.

Extra-terrestrial/Extra-planar Specimens: -An alien creature observed via Voyager 1, who fits all new classifications, the largest specimen both within the Godzilladea family, but possibly ever, dwarfing even The Pando Aspen 100-fold. Little can be researched, but it has been given the classification (Eschatolossus mundus rex) -A seperate, much smaller alien creature, having cragy, stone like malformations on it's back seperate from the dorsal plates, seemingly moving from one asteroid to the next. Being imaged on Voyager 2, seemingly following it. No more has been observed, but it has now been given the classification (Eschatolossus Mal Longinquus) - If not for the fact we are mathematically incapable of quantifying it's existence, beyond having footage and eye-witness accounts, this remains our most unknown member of the family (Eschatolossus incomprehensibilis vultus).

It is... scary. Truly. It is the most tangibly intangible, conceivable form that could be given to confoundment. The godly visage at which the stagnation of knowledge for it's barrier exeeds the knowedge neede to go beyond it lay as a foundation to ever begining to understand it.

#shitpost?#godzilla #speculative biology #speculative worldbuilding #speculative evolution #spec evo #speculative taxonomy #creative writing

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thrawns-backrest · 1 year ago

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This took ages and it's far from perfect but I'm glad to have it posted at last. Btw if you're new here and maybe want to read a fic which speculates what could have happened to Ronan in the Ascendancy, please consider giving this one a go. (ch 1 here)

Title: Buried in Ice

Characters: Ronan, Ba'kif and others

Chapters: 5/?

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.

___

“Your drink, General.”

Ba’kif smiled and accepted the steaming cup from the server. “Thank you.”

Throwing another quick look at the door, he settled back into his seat and let the smell of honey and herbs wash over him.

It was a nice place, he had to admit. Close enough to EDF headquarters for his uniform to be recognized while not drawing too much attention and the staff were pleasant.

He had refrained from visiting before Thrawn’s exile, reluctant to intrude on another’s memory, but he could see the appeal and why Thrawn had been so fond of it as to recommend it.

And funnily enough, the man who had recommended the place was also the reason Ba’kif was there today, albeit in a bizarrely roundabout way.

The thought drew his attention back to his questis and Ba’kif frowned privately into his cup.

The hardships that came with being Thrawn’s superior officer had of course not tarnished his opinion of the man. He still respected Thrawn on many accounts. He respected him as a tactician. As a warrior. Respected him for his courage and stoicism and even simply for the man he was, quietly dedicated and honorable in his own way.

But that said, he recognized that Thrawn had his flaws. It was his job to keep an eye on those flaws. And Thrawn could sometimes be blind to the ways he affected people, be it infecting them with reckless zeal, civilians and even children running headlong into danger for his sake, or simply… breaking them.

For all the respect he felt for Thrawn, Ba’kif decided as he skimmed over his notes, he felt an equal responsibility to put patches where the power he’d placed in his hands had punched holes.

In this case Thrawn had trusted Ba’kif to guide Brierly’ro’nan into a position where he would be most useful to the Ascendancy. And so far his predictions for how it would play out had been frighteningly accurate:

Assistant Director Ronan is a man who thrives on purpose and action. Once he is cut off from them you will find him more open to suggestion and that is where his energy and ambition will be liable for us to employ in the right direction.

Ba’kif closed his eyes and sighed to himself. From an outside perspective it was a cruel and calculating thing to do. He wasn’t sure if the fact that Thrawn didn’t mean it as such helped the case.

It certainly didn’t make a difference for Lyron, he thought as he remembered the play of helplessness and desperation on the human’s face. Lyron was trying to cope with his circumstances as best he could and Ba’kif hoped he wouldn’t come out too damaged from it. Not because it would affect his usefulness to the Ascendancy but simply for the sour taste it would leave in Ba’kif’s mouth.

Indeed, it was not in Ba’kif’s nature to take any responsibility given to him lightly. Nor was he the only one displeased by Thrawn’s actions.

“He never told me that,” Ar’alani growled lowly, crossing her arms over her chest. There was a small crease between her eyebrows that Ba’kif had come to associate with stress, though they saw each other so rarely these days.

He sympathized with her, he really did. Indeed, the news that the instructions Thrawn had left for Ba’kif differed from the ones he’d given her personally must have stung. Especially for her, the person Thrawn had always gone to first when he needed an ally or coconspirator. Or at least so they thought.

“I suspect he knew you would be angry about it and refuse to take Lyron on board.” Ba’kif shrugged, placing his cup back in its saucer.

“Typical…” Ar’alani shifted angrily in her seat. “You know, I hate it when he plays his little mind games on us.”

“He doesn’t mean anything malicious by it. But Thrawn is Thrawn and you know he won’t start changing now.”

“Do you think he’ll stop confiding in us completely one day?”

“I doubt it. He loves explaining himself too much for that.”

Ar’alani’s gaze stopped to linger on him and he watched the worry lines on her face deepen.

“I hope you’re right, Ba’kif.” She shook her head.

“You think things will end badly if he does?” ‘Do you really think we’re making a difference in the outcome of his plans?’ was the real question lurking beneath.

Ar’alani considered it and by the end, her lips had pressed into a thin line.

“I fear we may not see a catastrophe nearing if it comes to that.”

Ba’kif ignored the small twinge of disappointment in his gut. For all that it was an adequate answer, it still didn’t answer his question. Of whether they would even be able to stop Thrawn’s plans if they wanted to.

There was a small chime as the door to the establishment opened and Ba’kif let the memory dissipate as he straightened in his seat and watched the head secretary of his new bureau sashay into the bistro.

Not a minute too early, he noted with amusement. Some would be appalled by the breach of etiquette knowing who Lyron was meeting with.

“General,” Lyron greeted curtly as he took the seat opposite Ba’kif’s, rearranging the skirts of his robes in the process.

“Secretary Lyron.” Ba’kif smiled politely. “I trust this meeting finds you well?”

As usual, his entrance turned quite a few heads but Lyron took it all in stride, chin raised high and his questis held imperiously in front of him. All things considered, the human bounced back surprisingly quickly but Ba’kif didn’t let that lure him into a sense of complacency.

There was always a chance for these meetings to go awry. So far they had been productive but troubling results and reactions were not out of the question. Lyron’s adjustment and overall assessment were still far from over and until they were, Ba’kif would tread with caution.

And bias if need be.

“Well enough,” the human huffed. “Any news from the front?” Lyron asked as he settled in in the chair opposite him and Ba’kif took the opportunity to run a furtive glance over him, noting any signs of improved health he could recognize. The difference in species made the task tricky but some things were thankfully universal.

“Only good ones,” he said at length. “We’ve managed to push the enemy to the very edge of our territories.”

Lyron gave him a doubtful look, raising one sharp eyebrow. “But they’re bound to return?”

Ba’kif’s smile turned wry.

Briefly, he considered lying but decided against it in the end. Lyron had been aboard the Steadfast long enough to know how this war worked. Trying to mislead him now would only make them seem insecure about their position.

“Sure as the sun rises. But I wouldn’t worry, secretary. Sooner or later our enemy will discover that the longer they tangle with us, the closer they come to their undoing.”

“You sound sure of it.”

“I am. And so was Senior Captain Thrawn.”

Lyron’s reaction was not one he expected as instead of showing relief, the human’s face contorted in a grimace.

“Does anyone here ever express an opinion that’s not Thrawn’s?” he groaned and Ba’kif found himself amused again, despite everything.

“Oh, quite a few, believe me.” He grinned. “In fact, I’m quite sure there’s a great many who would let him speak only to contradict him.”

“Sounds more up my alley.”

“Does it? You’ve worked with him before. Would you really say he’s wrong more often than he is right?”

“Maybe not. But spite and pettiness have their own appeal. Or are the Chiss above such things?”

Ba’kif suppressed a wince. “Not at all, unfortunately.”

“Tell me secretary,” he said after a while, keeping his tone casual, “do you find your work for the Mediation Bureau satisfying so far?”

“You could say so, I suppose.”

Ba’kif shifted ever so subtly, moving closer to Lyron.

“And would you agree that the Bureau’s goals ultimately coincide with yours?”

Lyron’s eyes narrowed and Ba’kif watched closely as his alertness shot up. They had danced this dance before. They both knew the steps.

“So far our interests align, yes.”

“Then would you say you are willing in the work you provide for us?”

That earned him a sigh and an eye roll.

“As willing as someone who had little choice in the matter.” Lyron’s shoulders stiffened into a defensive line. “I agree on our common goals but I would much rather serve the Empire directly.”

“So your primary loyalty lies with the Empire.”

“Of course.”

“Yet your Empire does not seem to think very highly of us.”

Hesitation. A flash of panic. Lyron could see the trap but he couldn’t hide from it. Not when there was no doubt Ba’kif had read Ar’alani’s report from her joint mission with the Chimaera.

“They don’t know the Chiss as well as I do,” he tried tentatively. Then switched to a more offensive tactic. “Your beloved Thrawn serves the Acsendancy first and foremost. Am I to be begrudged for doing the same?”

“Not at all.” Ba’kif assured him. “But it does raise some questions.”

“Ah,” Lyron smiled wryly. “Now we get to the point.”

Indeed we do, Ba’kif thought to himself and shifted in his seat once again, rearranging his position. Not too close to intrude on Lyron’s personal space but close enough as to make the cramped surface of the table feel even more cramped.

His hands rested comfortably next to his drink, fingers intertwined and pointed in Lyron’s direction, and he took note of the way Lyron’s crossed arms pressed closer to his chest in response.

“Say that you return to your Empire one day,” he said evenly, light and hypothetical. “Be it with our blessing or by chance. And say that by that time your Empire has decided to take a hostile stance towards the Ascendancy. Would you assist them in their effort to use your association with us?”

Lyron blinked at him.

“You mean would I cooperate if they interrogated me?”

Ba’kif smiled indulgently.

“That’s a good place to start.”

___

Ronan’s mind swerved and skidded as Ba’kif stared at him, waiting for a response.

Kriff. He’d been letting his guard down at these meetings lately. Getting comfortable. As though Ba’kif didn’t drag him out to them specifically to ask uncomfortable questions.

“Stalling with silence is not very polite in our society,” Ba’kif chided and Ronan scoffed to himself.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize thinking before speaking was specific to my kind.”

Ba’kif shrugged and waved a hand cordially.

“We prefer to stall by talking. It’s less telling.”

“I’m sure I’ve said this before but my language skills are not quite up to par yet.”

“See? You’re already learning.”

His irritation spiked and he glared at the general, the man’s composure and cheer about as immovable as a block of stone. Ba’kif may seem well-meaning at first glance but Ronan knew they wouldn’t be going anywhere until he got his answer.

And this was the worst time for him to latch on to this line of questioning.

Things had been going well for Ronan lately. He’d been getting better at his job, heck he’d been getting good at it. He even found himself tolerating his new colleague, Rhiuh’vek, a long forgotten merit adoptive of the Boadil who wasn’t satisfied with his standing in life and had decided to drop that allegiance in favor of a post in the bureau.

He was the epitome of the perpetually harried low ranking administrator and he and Ronan had found a camaraderie in bemoaning the pettiness and hypocrisy of the officers they dealt with on a daily basis.

Now though Ba’kif was opening a whole new can of hypothetical worms.

‘With our blessing or by chance’ Ba’kif had said. Conveniently omitting the possibility of Ronan returning without their blessing and by design. Essentially Ronan was still as stuck here as he was before.

Which merited the question of what would happen to him if he were still around and such hostilities happened to break out… but of course, he wasn’t the one asking the questions here.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he sighed finally, running a hand through his hair. “You know your own people and how devoted they are to the Ascendancy. Our Emperor -” Ronan’s mouth scrunched as if he’d just eaten something rotten, “- expects the same loyalty from his subjects. You of all people, should understand what that means.”

“And that is why I’m asking you these things. Others’ loyalties do not preclude mine.”

“So what, you expect me to stay silent? You think they will not poke and prod until they get what they want? I’m not ISB General,” Ronan scoffed although Ba’kif was unlikely to know what he meant by that. Or maybe he did. Who knew how much information Thrawn was feeding his people. Never mind that Ronan was expected to hold on to Chiss secrets while Thrawn was free to share imperial ones.

“I do not have torture and interrogation training…” he finished crossly.

“Maybe you won’t need it,” Ba’kif suggested. “Maybe you could lie and convince them they don’t need to resort to such methods.”

“You don’t understand,” Ronan said, getting desperate. “Lord Vader – any Force user – can detect lies. With Thrawn sending his people in secret, we would already be under suspicion to begin with.”

He leaned back in his seat and shook his head. The fact that he’d just called himself one of ‘Thrawn’s people’ didn’t make him feel any better.

“I’d be killed on the spot,” he said with quiet resignation. “The Empire doesn’t tolerate treason. Not with rebel activity poisoning its peace every hour of every day.”

Ba’kif went quiet then and Ronan was thankful for the small interlude while he got his thoughts in order.

“These rebels of yours,” Ba’kif hummed thoughtfully when he finally spoke again. “What are they fighting for?”

It was like a jolt of electricity had been sent up Ronan’s spine and he straightened in his seat, feeling a new surge of zeal.

“They’re after power,” he spat. “Those worlds have been in the Republic for decades but now they wish to disrupt the carefully built system of trade and cooperation and hoard resources for themselves.”

He jabbed at the table as he spoke and noted the way Ba’kif followed his every move.

“They claim they can do better for themselves without the Empire yet they don’t realize it was the Empire that made the strength and stability necessary for their rebellion possible in the first place. It’s madness honestly. A terrorist movement, plain and simple.”

He took a moment to wind down as he waited for Ba’kif’s reaction. Then Ba’kif’s lips twitched, as though suppressing a smile.

“And here I thought you said your Cheunh wasn’t up to par. That was quite eloquent if I do say so myself,” the general said and Ronan drew back as though he’d been slapped.

But despite his initial shock… Ba’kif was right. He hadn’t stumbled over his words once during that rant, even the more difficult sounds rolling off his tongue with ease. The compliment curdled however, when Ronan considered just what Ba’kif was after here.

Of course it would benefit Ba’kif to point out how quickly he was assimilating into their society. It was yet another tactic in a long line of attempts to influence Ronan’s thinking and make him more amenable to the idea of changing his loyalties altogether.

It wouldn’t be the first time Ba’kif elicited a strong reaction from him only to turn the conversation on its head and make it about his motivations and abilities. Ronan rolled his eyes in his mind. Ba’kif wasn’t actually interested in the Empire’s problems. He was merely looking for a way to harness Ronan’s drive for his precious Ascendancy. Just as he’d been doing from the very beginning.

And he was about to say so when something suddenly changed in the Chiss’ face and Ronan found himself pinned down by that same intensity he remembered from their conversation in Ba’kif’s office.

“I strongly believe that when the time comes for us to face the Grysks’ full might,” Ba’kif began in a quiet voice, “your Empire and its rebels will set their differences aside and work together. As will my people and yours. Adversity has a way of doing that.”

His gaze held Ronan’s, steady and unyielding.

“If we are to survive that assault however we need to be strong enough. Both our worlds. Thrawn is seeing to that in the Empire and you and Vanto, and whoever else he sends our way, will need to see to that here.” Ba’kif finished and Ronan swallowed through a dry throat, still pinned to his seat as though transfixed.

Because this was another thing Ba’kif was good at. Chipping away at your defenses, speaking with such conviction that you felt your doubts washing away along with a slow surging desire to trust him.

He swallowed again, this time more tentatively.

“Do you really think a few humans can make a difference?” he asked before he could stop himself. Ba’kif nodded.

“If Thrawn thinks so,” he said gravely, “then yes.”

And just like that, the whole thing came crashing down.

Ronan groaned, feeling the sudden need to roll his eyes again and maybe rip them out of their sockets. “And here we are, back where we started…” he despaired.

Ba’kif did something that surprised him then – he leaned back in his seat and gave a full throaty laugh. It caught Ronan so off guard that he all but jumped out of his chair and could only stare at the man opposite him.

He had never heard the Chiss general laugh before… He found that he didn’t mind the sight at all.

Later that evening found him in his office again, still mulling over the events of their meeting.

He’d spent the last two hours of his shift dealing with the case of a Dasklo upstart who’d stepped on the toes of some senior officer. Ronan had listened to the young Junior Captain bemoan the case extensively, elaborating on the two families’ history and all the circumstances surrounding the accident.

A stark contrast to the distrustful looks and standoffish attitude he’d gotten in his first months here. But then again, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the Chiss were more receptive to him when he was there to solve their problems.

Same stuff, different packaging, he reminded himself as he put a data cylinder away for safe keeping.

He had just transferred some files to his questis, planning to take them to his modest accommodations for perusal, when he heard the office hatch open and close in the quiet of the filing room.

It gave him some pause – it was nearly the end of their shift and Rhiuh’vek had already left a while ago – and he peered around the door with a frown.

Only to find an important looking Chiss at his desk, his long chiseled face turned in Ronan’s direction and glaring at him.

In the end, after wracking his brains for a while, he managed to pinpoint the man’s identity though he’d gleaned it more from the sun shaped ornaments in his hair than from anything else.

“Patriarch Mitth'urf'ianico,” he said in a bored tone. “My apologies, Your Venerante, we weren’t prepared to receive you.” He gestured to the obvious lack of refreshments.

The words sent another frown skittering across that severe face and Ronan steeled himself as he took a seat behind his desk.

This should be a pleasant conversation…

___

If there was any way Ba’kif had expected his evening to end, it certainly wasn’t this one. But he supposed finding a disgruntled Patriach in his office was a far better outcome than some of the scenarios he’d run into in the past, especially since the start of the war.

“I just had a talk with your new secretary,” Thurfian said without much preamble, as Ba’kif took a seat in his chair.

“You’ve noticed something that concerns you?” Ba’kif raised an eyebrow, lacing his fingers together in front of him.

“What I noticed,” Thurfian bit back, “was his utter lack of reverence.”

“Really? Did he act disrespectfully?”

“No. But he certainly didn’t show any notable respect either.”

Ba’kif shrugged innocently. “Now I’m just confused, Your Venerante.”

That, of course, didn’t go down well with the other man but Ba’kif reasoned it wouldn’t do to get carried away with dancing around each other. Best nudge Thurfian to say what he was there for outright and annoying him was a surefire way to do that.

And lo and behold, after stewing in his irritation a while longer, Thurfian seemed to switch back to business.

“There are many who object to his presence here,” he said lowly, holding Ba’kif’s gaze. “Even more so to his position.”

“His assessment so far hasn’t yielded anything troubling.” Ba’kif unlaced his fingers to gesture casually. “And he’s proved himself capable for his position. He’s the one that sniffed out your instigators, in fact.” He added for good measure but the words had an opposite effect as Thurfian’s face paled.

“The Thuf case?” he asked hoarsely.

“Indeed.”

“You allow him such insight into our affairs?” The Patriarch’s voice took on an angry note.

“I was testing him,” Ba’kif countered. “Besides, you’d long figured it out and were already taking action when you asked my opinion.”

“That’s hardly relevant,” Thurfian snapped. “Feeding our secrets to foreigners…We are in no position to take such risks.”

“Neither can we afford to waste time on petty family squabbles.”

“That we agree on,” Thurfian nodded, conciliatory. “But surely there are thousands of our own people you can choose from.”

“None of them as neutral in the matter of family politics as he is,” Ba’kif said. “But the point is that he’s showing results and that’s all that matters.”

At that, Thurfian’s gaze turned icy and Ba’kif leaned back in his chair, feeling triumphant.

Now that, they both knew to be a lie.

Thrawn had shown results too, he had put results above everything in fact, and he’d still been removed. But that’s because Thrawn had broken tangible rules in the process, Ba’kif thought to himself.

Here, there was nothing the Syndicure could latch on to. Lyron’s presence and work for the Ascendancy didn’t break any rules because they were unprecedented – there simply were no rules in place to break.

Thurfian’s arms were tied.

Check mate, Ba’kif thought smugly to himself and watched the calculated play of emotions on Thurfian’s face shift until they settled into grudging defeat.

“We will discuss this again at length, General.” Thurfian said in a tone that promised retribution before rising from his chair.

“Of course, Your Venerante.” Ba’kif stood to accompany his guest to the door but Thurfian waved him away irritably.

“I know my way out.”

As the hatch hissed shut behind him with finality, plunging the office into silence, Ba’kif remained seated at his desk, soaking it up and rocking back and forth as he contemplated the implications of what had just happened.

Thurfian was an old foe for lack of a better word. Ba’kif was well aware that much of the machinations that had led to Thrawn’s exile had been orchestrated by his hand and had to suppress the bitterness he felt at the fact.

Now, the man had shown his hand once again and though Ba’kif couldn’t say he was surprised, there was no use getting tangled up in personal sentiments.

At the end of the day, Thurfian was a good politician. Maybe even a good Patriarch. Unfortunately, he could not see that the ideas he advocated for were harmful, though of course, only time would tell which one of them was right. All Ba’kif could do now was what the military had taught him all these years: pick a side and dig in.

As for Lyron, he thought uneasily and felt the sudden need to get up and stretch his legs, Lyron’s future remained as much of a question mark as ever.

“A sour taste indeed…” he muttered to himself in the dark, looking out the window spanning the wall of his office. The artificial lights outside flickered and fluctuated as he tucked a few darker scenarios back to the recesses of his mind where they’d sprung from.

He could only hope that this time, like many others before, Thrawn’s calculations would prove to be right…

___

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#thrawn #thrawn ascendancy #thrawn trilogy #thrawn books #thrawn treason #brierly ronan #ba'kif #and a surprise cameo read to find out lol

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