“…Why don’t you come to the Irizi homestead with me?”

“To your *homestead* [to meet the parents???]?” Thrawn echoed. “Are strangers even allowed?” A muscle in his check twitched. “Especially strangers from rival families?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Ziara said. “I am blood and I am an honored member of the fleet who just helped save eight-thousand lives. I don’t know how far all of that will take me, but I’d rather like to find out. You game to find out with me?“

“I don’t know, “Thrawn said hesitantly “I don’t want you to get in trouble on my behalf.“

“I’m not worried about it,” Ziara said. “Did I mention that my grandfather was an amazingly passionate art collector?”

Thrawn smiled. “If I haven’t mentioned it recently, Ziara, you have a knack for seeking out and exploiting your opponents’ weaknesses. Very well. Shall we once again charge headlong into danger?”

“We shall,” Zara said. “Besides, we just survived an encounter with a malicious gas giant planet. Really, how bad could my family be?“

—

Excerpt from ‘Thrawn: Chaos Rising’…

—so, even in my non-canon AU spoof SpaceRockOpera crossover of StarWars/TTT, Firefly-Serenity/and the Keltiad, my OFC, after she and Thrawn have their wicked way with each other (enemies to friends dynamic…), she points him back to Ziara. —I’ve toyed with, and am warming to part of my AU narrative arc, having Ar’alani and Thrawn completely professional and never pursuing intimacy in the years they served the Defense Fleet together. And in the night before he’s enters exile, with no more consequences compromising career paths, they consummate their affection. And 7-10 years later, we’re discovering Un’hee, who’d been taken away from Ziara once her psionic navigating abilities had been discovered. Then, as part of Blue Sun Corp’s research with enhanced super-soldiers like River Tam with psionic abilities, collaborating with Black Sun Syndicate and the Virathi/Coroniad/Grysk commanding the multiple strands of this stage across a Wormhole and distant parts of the MilkyWay, amid other confrontations, it’s the Firefly crew that rescues Un’hee, whilst River Tam with my OFC (biokinetically gifted Keltoi medic, teaming with Luke Skywalker) following some unholy uses of an ancient bioquantum-valent protogenome that enables real time mutagenesis and tissue regeneration (in hybrid Reaver-clones…Vong-V-V-V-Vong…we see where this is going, but no reborn Palpatine and it’s NOT called Project Necromancer…), and reunites Un’hee with her mother. And, with Thrawn back in the picture advancing the interests of The Empire of the Hand, with Ziara leading the Chiss branch of military/space fleet, leaving Thrawn to put 2 and 2 together. Recalling that baby-making sex (as it’s termed when it’s a rollicking—swooning-no-blood-left-brain kind’a sex…) night from a decade before…

“Pompeius Trogus goes a step further and identifies key elements of Greek [Chiss] culture brought by the Massiolites [modern Marseilles]:

“”They [the Gauls] learned to prune the vine and plant the olive; and such a radiance was shed over both men and things, that it was not Greece [the Chiss] which seemed to have immigrated into Gaul [the Keltiad systems], but Gaul [the Keltiad culture] that seemed to have been transplanted into Greece [the Chiss—don’t really know how to interpret Space Kelts—and poor Thrawn—finds their art…enchanting as it is enigmatic and opaque—but their music/poetry, confounding for its absolute wildness and melancholy both…].”

The air sparked between them, tension's surefire fuse. Rhyanon stepped closer, her fingers brushing Thrawn’s lips, a deliberate provocation. That controlled façade of his, the predatory edge of his smirk, always so measured, so distant. She’d spent years unraveling it.

"You could descend down a rung or two," she murmured, her thumb tracing his sharp features, the arrogant seam of his mouth. Not caring to conceal the satisfaction in her gaze, hearing the hitch in his throat.

She gasped, his fingers suddenly biting into her waist as he backed her against the durasteel wall. His mouth crashed against hers, feral, all devouring heat and ravenous teeth. No thought left—only wildfire. She arched, her gauzy skirt riding up shamelessly high as he knelt, his lips searing devotion into trembling flesh.

Cheunh poetry pooled between her thighs. A search for beauty… Verses in a language she hadn't understood back then, once murmured to her amid Palpatine's shadowed halls. She had been a mere ornament. The Emperor's prop, a courtesan trained as a medic with an activist's ideals. The dreamer and the wine… And he, a strategist, the architect of empires. You have such oceans within…. Fragments coiling with his breath against her skin.

An emerald vintage burned cold across the chamber, eclipsed by a holosculpture's crimson specter. A dance of shimmering fractals, like molten arteries of a false, forgotten dawn.

Yhana clutched into the tousled black hair, pulling him deeper. The Red Flame's glow stuttered, distorting their reflection in the polished floor—his uniform disheveled, the silvery tangle of her tresses veiling his worship.

…SceneConcept/-the Chiss/Thrawn Household Phalanx/EmpireoftheHand marching into Coruscant RomanTriumphStyle—meets the Keltiad/TerranFederacy/RebrlAlliance (but in this scene—the Keltiad Ardrian’s Royal Uilean/Galician/Alban Bagpipers)—piping it out to the marching Phalanx Forces—all the length of the triumph route…and while the Imps/Chiss Phalanx hold Courscsbt/Alliance at their mercy (with intervention of FirefkySerenity Terran Feds intervention—Kelts are part of Independent Systems…)—the 10,000 Bagpipe Promenade has the Chiss suddenly drawing weapons every which way, or dropping to the ground in sudden *take cover mode* (along with StormTroopers)—as the Keltoi enjoy a moment of subversive revenge in a peacekeeping role…