boxofmisfits | It's Not a Software Glitch

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It's Not a Software Glitch

Sometimes the crew of the Chimaera figured that high command sent them on missions to the Unknown Region just so they didn't have to acknowledge the alien Grand Admiral for a while. Thrawn just took such assignments in stride. Scouts had reported the discovery of a backwater planet near the Unknown Region, and their reports sounded rather strange. A world host to many different native sapient races, able to do strange things that science couldn't explain, which hadn't become space-faring or even technologically caught up to most of the galaxy.

Thrawn was to send a camera crew down to film the planet, both as intel and as potential propaganda material. 'See what these people are going through and how nice would it be if the Empire helped them?' and all that. Thus the Chimaera had taken residence over a large city, later identified as Baldur's Gate, much to the citizens' horror and awe. Apparently their world was no stranger to invaders from another realm.

It was during one of these filming sessions that the crew ran into a rather odd glitch. They filmed a small group of seven people, but only six were showing up on the camera. They could see the man with their own eyes, he was right there, and yet no matter what, he just wasn't showing up on camera. Immediately the group had gone to the tavern where they were staying and reported this to Thrawn. The only explanation was that it was a software glitch, unlike anything they'd seen before. That explanation didn't satisfy Thrawn.

Curiosity immediately piqued, Thrawn asked for a description of the man and the location of where they'd captured the footage, and off he went. He had a pair of Death Troopers, in civilian clothes, nearby just in case, and Thrawn himself wore a hood and sunglasses, which did little to hide his alien features.

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"Oh, I'm more than capable of feeding myself on those days where my meal doesn't show up on my doorstep."

Astarion had no doubt that he would be able to do that elsewhere too. Any civilized world was likely to have a seedy underbelly full of people who'd never be missed if they were pulled off the street, after all. And he could also sate himself with animals.

"Humanoid blood may be a fine vintage, but I can make merry with animal blood all the same."

He definitely had a preference for the blood of thinking creatures now that the option was there for him, but animal blood was sufficient for those days when his hunts ended in failures, "Speaking of, much as I appreciated that taste- you're quite a treat, truly- we should probably postpone any further conversation until tomorrow past sundown. I would like to find something more filling before sunrise."

Given that his hunting ground was quite a ways away from where he was staying to avoid arousing any suspicions from the regulars who knew him, Astarion knew he would need time to hunt and then make his way back and he hadn't exactly planned to spend this time with Thrawn.

"As you wish," Thrawn couldn't help the small swell of pride as Astarion complimented how he tasted. Even if the vampire was just trying to get on his good side, he had seemed to genuinely enjoy drinking from Thrawn and had that blissful look after Thrawn cut him off. Perhaps it was because his blood was alien and exotic, or because Thrawn took care of himself. Either way, it was nice to know that his blood hadn't repulsed the man.

"In the meantime, think about my offer. Take time to get your affairs in order if you plan to accept," He began putting his armor back on and looked into a nearby mirror to make sure his fake ears were still on straight.

"We can meet again tomorrow evening in the Elfsong, if you'd like."

It really was the most convenient place to meet up. Especially considering that Astarion was currently living hidden beneath it.

"I have precious few affairs to get in order though, so that shouldn't take long."

All he needed to do if he ended up leaving with Thrawn was gather his possessions and all of those were in the hideout already. And much as he might want to say goodbye to the few friends he had in the world, they had all more or less scattered to the winds by now, with the exception of only a few of them.

"You'd be surprised how easy it is to leave a life lived only at night behind."

When most people were all snug in their beds, safely away from an undead's nighttime prowling. His life hadn't lent itself to connections before the tadpole, and now that it and Cazador both were gone... It still mostly didn't.

"Very well. I will meet you in the Elfsong after sundown," Thrawn agreed, adjusting his gloves and then making sure that he had his supplies in his satchel. He touched the spot on his neck where Astarion had bit him, already noticing that the skin was starting to heal from the bacta.

Approaching Astarion, Thrawn took his chin in hand and leaned in to give him a peck on the lips. "I will leave you to your hunt. Do try to stay safe in the meantime." Tilting his head at Astarion, Thrawn left the room and then the house with Pik in tow.

Edited 2023-12-21 22:45 (UTC)

Astarion accepted the kiss- looking almost amused by it. He likely tasted of blood still, though Thrawn didn't seem bothered by it at least. Probably for the best, if he intended to go around kissing vampires.

"My safety is my highest priority, so no need for concern there."

Astarion always looked out for himself first and foremost. Especially now that he was alone again. He was fairly certain that the only one of the group to remain in Baldur's Gate still was Gale... And figured he might try to find him to bid at least him farewell. If he had the time.

Should Thrawn look up after leaving the house, he might spot a small white bat darting through the dark night sky with a very distinctive little puff of hair atop its head. Flying was by far a superior way to spot prey at a distance, and so Astarion had favored it after he had been taught how to polymorph into animal shape.

The next night, after sundown, he would be found in the Elfsong- seated in one of the booths at the back, with a glass of wine on the table and a slightly full- though not overly full- bag set on the floor between his feet.

Thrawn had looked up and taken note of the bat. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, but he didn't think so. His research had said that vampire spawn couldn't turn into bats, but perhaps it had been mistaken. Or Astarion had found an alternate way.

He showed up at the Elfsong the next day after sundown, as promised, once more in his Drow disguise. He'd been mistaken for a paladin earlier, thanks to his style of armor and the mace at his hip, and had decided to roll with it. He had called Eli earlier, and asked if he was about done with his own mission, and had gotten an affirmative. The man was already on his way back to the Chimaera.

Spotting Astarion and making his way over to him, Thrawn said in a low voice. "Hello again. Are you prepared?"

The scent of his blood alerted Astarion to Thrawn's presence long before he spoke, though he only looked up once the man came to a halt in front of where he was seated, looking up and offering a smile, "I am."

Perhaps the normal thing to do was be less eager or even apprehensive about the doubtlessly large change it would be to leave Faerûn and even Toril itself entirely behind. To muse about how easily all that was important in life could fit inside a small bag. Astarion had never been the sentimental sort though.

And honestly he was looking forward to being in a place where he wouldn't need to worry about some cleric or paladin refusing to see him as a person and shoving a stake through his ribs or breaking down the door to where he was staying to drag him out into the sun to roast and turn to cinders.

"Shall we?" He asked, as he drained the last of his wine from his glass before reaching down to grab his bag and standing up. There was nothing holding him back, so he saw no reason to stall for more time.

"Yes. May this humble Paladin escort you," Perhaps he was laying it on thick with his assumed identity, but he figured he might as well play along. He waited for Astarion, before guiding him out of the tavern.

"Rest assured, you can return to this world anytime you wish," Thrawn said, as they walked the streets. "Be it homesickness or for business reasons. You need only ask." Thrawn knew what it was like to leave home for a long time, to leave friends and family, to do something he felt he had to do. He also promised himself that he would return home one day, and see his people again.

The shuttle, his confiscated smuggler vessel rather than an Imperial Lambda, waited just on the outskirts of Rivington. Pik and Waffle were already inside.

"There is little that I would miss."

Not nothing. He had friends that he might be keen to visit at some point. Perhaps his siblings and all of the spawn in the Underdark to see how they were doing. But nothing really binding him to the world. Had he been among the living perhaps it would have been different. Parents. A spouse. Maybe children.

Even if he couldn't imagine that he was overly fond of being in their presence even when he was among the living.

"But I'll keep it in mind."

He appreciated the offer if nothing else. His brows raised ever so slightly at the ship, not quite sure what he'd been expecting, "You know, I'm not quite sure what I was expecting. But at least this and the other one don't come with tentacles. And appears to be made of metal."

He hadn't exactly been free to walk around on the nautiloid, but his mind had lurched far enough into someone's who had been to know that those floors squished. Not that he was going to say that.

"Yes, my people have been examining one of the downed mind flayer vessels. It's interesting that it seems to be mostly organic," It wasn't technology that the Empire would be in a hurry to utilize, but it was interesting nonetheless. The scans of the vessel alone would be added to Thrawn's art collection. "As for me, I find that this ship allows me to be less conspicuous."

Thrawn took the pilot's seat and invited Astarion to sit in the copilot seat, the Death Troopers hanging back and taking seats. After initiating the takeoff sequence, the ship rose into the air and breached the atmosphere.

As they neared the Star Destroyer, Thrawn turned to Astarion. "I hereby invite you onto the Chimaera." The ship was technically a vessel, but it could count as a home and thus Thrawn chose to err on the side of caution. His research told him that vampire invitations lasted until the homeowner rescinded it, which was convenient.

"Eugh. I hope they were wearing gloves."

Astarion wasn't sure if mind flayer vessels decomposed the way corpses did and honestly he wasn't keen to find out. As flying vessels went, nautiloids were probably one of the more disgusting kinds.

He sat down as he was invited to, looking sort of vaguely interested as the ship began to rise, quickly leaving the ground and all he knew behind.

And he had been about to respond to Thrawn when he felt a sudden jolt of magic- a pins and needles sort of feeling spreading through him and before he knew it he was dropping down in a blur of shifting white smoke. There was a soft thunk as a white bat with a distinctive little puff of curls atop its tiny head fell onto the chair where Astarion had been sitting- followed by panicked and slightly angry sounding chirping.

"I assure you, they are taking precautions to be sanitary."

His head jerked over at the sudden burst of smoke, fearing that Astarion had burnt up somehow, despite the fact that Thrawn made sure that they were on the dark side of the world and no sunlight would come through during flight.

What he saw made his eyebrows raise. A little white bat, right where Astarion was. Putting the ship on autopilot, Thrawn leaned forward to examine the vampire in his current form.

"So, that was you that I saw the other night. I take it the change was involuntary?"

If so, that raised a few questions about Astarion's abilities or the magic that infused everything and everyone. He held out his hand, inviting Astarion to climb on.

The squeaks somehow seemed to shift from shock to being indignant, as if he was chastising Thrawn for even suggesting that the change had been voluntary. Of course it hadn't been. It wasn't like they'd hit a certain altitude and he'd decided that he needed to stretch his wings.

Even though he was squeaking and chirping incessantly, he did obediently climb onto Thrawn's hand though- heading straight for the opening in his sleeve. The bat form was convenient both for hunting and for fleeing, but being forced into a form that was not his own had still come as something of a shock.

Not quite the same as involuntarily becoming a monster, but still not comfortable.

And worse, it wasn't just him and Thrawn as witnesses to this embarrassment either.

As if sensing Astarion's thoughts, Thrawn looked behind his shoulder and said to the Death Troopers, "Keep this to yourselves." The Death Troopers nodded in obedience.

If Astarion could learn to control this ability outside of Toril, he could make a useful spy. Or Thrawn could sneak him into places, as evidenced by him crawling up the sleeve of Thrawn's outfit.

Upon entering the Chimaera's docking bay, Thrawn and the others stepped out of the shuttle and were greeted by an officer. "Welcome back, Sir. Commander Vanto arrived an hour ago, and he said he'd wait in your office to give you his report."

"Thank you, Lieutenant-Commander."

"Sir, is the new ambassador with you?"

"He is, but he has chosen to go unseen for now."

The officer seemed confused by that, but chose not to question his Admiral. Thrawn dismissed his Death Troopers for the day and entered the lift that would take him to his floor. Peeking into his sleeve, he said, "Let us hope that being away from your world doesn't cause too many problems with your magic in the future."

Exiting the lift, Thrawn made his way to his office, greeting the Stormtrooper guard as he entered. As promised, Eli was waiting for him, datapad in hand.

"I take it your journey to Elturel was informative?"

"Sure was. Wish I could've seen Baldur's Gate, though."

"We can always return."

"True." He typed a few things on his datapad and transferred his report to Thrawn.

"Thank you, Commander. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." Right after he removed his disguise, of course. Reaching into his sleeve, he gently pulled Astarion out and handed him to Eli. Eli looked down at the bat, utterly confused.

Edited 2023-12-29 08:16 (UTC)

Hopefully his bag of belongings would be moved into whatever accommodations Thrawn had prepared. Astarion would have carried it with him himself, but given his current predicament, the only carry-on luggage he could bring was humiliation at his magic going haywire.

He thought he knew how Gale and Wyll must have felt now, after the tadpole had essentially scrambled all their abilities.

Settling into Thrawn's sleeve, he stayed quiet as they were on the move, letting out a few more indignant clicks and squeaks as Thrawn peeked into his sleeve to look at him. He sure hoped so too.

Astarion settled once more, listening in on Thrawn's conversation with the human with the curious twang to his accent. When Thrawn reached into his sleeve though, he began squeaking again- trying to cling to the fabric as he was pulled out. He was still squeaking as he was handed over and Thrawn moved to leave, looking after the man and then looking to Eli, before flopping over on his palm in a way that almost resembled giving up.

Edited 2023-12-29 08:17 (UTC)

Eli looked at Thrawn's retreating form, then down at the bat again. Before he could question Thrawn, the man had already retreated into his private quarters, most likely to remove the fake ears and change into his uniform.

"I didn't think Thrawn was the sort to get a pet." He mused, leaving Thrawn's office and going into his own quarters, right next door. An aide had to be close at hand to their commanding officer.

He idly stroked the bat's head with a finger. "Thrawn had me looking into this city that got sent to Hell. Literally. They're still rebuilding, but they kinda took it out on the tiefling population." Which was entirely unfair to them. It seemed that prejudice could happen no matter where you were.

"I passed myself off as a bard while I was there. It was kinda fun, honestly." He didn't know why he was saying all this to a bat. Perhaps he just liked getting his thoughts out in the open to something that couldn't talk back.

He set the bat down on his desk, before sitting down, stroking a finger down his back. "You're pretty cute. Especially those curls."

The man was a chatty one, wasn't he.

But then, Astarion supposed he was much the same when it was just him and an animal. He'd had a few conversations with Scratch in the past. And with the Owlbear cub. And a few passing cats who had decided to give him the time of day. It was easier sometimes to talk to an animal who couldn't respond back- unless you used a spell or a potion to understand them.

He lifted his head to push up against the finger stroking it, figuring he might as well make the most out of the petting given that he had little other choice.

He even chirped along to the conversation, intently thinking his responses at the man.

'I suppose I was lucky that Cazador set up shop in Baldur's Gate rather than Elturel. Would have liked to see him get reduced to a stain on the ground by some monstrosity in Avernus, but it really was more pleasing to get to do that myself-'

Chirp, chirp, chirp, squeak.

'A bard? The story-telling kind or the singing kind? You really need to be specific so that I can more clearly picture it, darling.'

Continued squeaks and a bit of a flail as he was slid down from his hand and onto the desk, once again flopping over as though giving up. His eyes closed briefly as the finger stroked down along his back, chirping an affirmative note. He was pretty cute indeed.

If Eli didn't know better, he'd swear the bat was trying to talk back. Lots of animals were chatty like that. Or maybe Thrawn had stumbled onto an unusually smart species of bat.

"I play a little guitar. Didn't think it would actually come in handy for a mission." Guitars weren't a common instrument where he'd been, but it was close enough to a lute, he supposed. "And unlike Thrawn, I didn't need to put on any fake ears to blend in."

Opening his drawer, he pulled out a small brush. Really, it was a spare toothbrush, which he made a mental note to replace. Gently, he ran the bristles through the bat's curls, then onto his back.

"We have bats on Lysatra, my home planet, but I've never seen one quite like you."

'You'd be surprised how often skills you didn't think much of can come in handy if you're creative about it,' Astarion thought in response, continuing to chirp. Music was a good way of lowering people's guards. People tended to get chatty when there was good music and good times to go around.

In another life, that might have been something he'd want to try for himself. With his undead lifespan being what it was, maybe he would pick up an instrument or two to fill the time.

'And it is significantly easier for a human to blend in. Of course in a place so diverse, Thrawn could have walked around without the false ears and most people would just accept that there's obviously a race they haven't seen much of yet or assume he's just a deviation from the norm.'

He looked a little like a drow, but without the ears and without someone with a keen nose like himself, people would likely have slotted him neatly into a half-elf category. Perhaps one with clipped ears.

Though his squeaking responses had been vigorous, they settled into being less frequent at the brushing- it was a rather soothing sensation.

"Honestly, I think Thrawn just likes playing dress-up and going undercover in disguise. Part of his closet is sectioned off with his various disguises." He even owned a set of Mandalorian armor. He brushed down the bat's back, seeing that he liked it.

"But seriously, a major city goes to Hell and back, forcing out part of its population that had nothing to do with what happened, and then this weird cult involving brain-eating aliens comes along. Suddenly the Clone Wars look mild by comparison." Said by a man who was just a kid when the Clone Wars were going on, and whose homeworld was unaffected by the war. Just one of the few perks of being from a backwater planet.

The door chime sounded and Thrawn entered, back in his uniform. Eli paused in his brushing.

"I see you and Astarion have been conversing."

"Astarion?" He looked at the bat. "That's a pretty name."

'Can't fault a man for enjoying dressing up, I suppose.'

Even if the preference seemed to be on costumes made to blend in, rather than on clothes that let him stand out. Astarion couldn't really understand that, given that he preferred to be vain and look pretty when he could.

He let out a slightly louder chirp then and his ears waggled as he lifted his head to look up at the man, as if to insert an argument that the cult had been the worst. Being able to stand in the sun, wade through rivers, and enter homes without an invitation had been nice. But he had not enjoyed the threat of becoming a mind flayer. The cult would have been nicer if they could have taken control of the brain though.

Unfortunately his party of adventurers had not agreed with that course of action.

And though elves didn't sleep, his eyes closed as the brushing continued- letting out a slightly louder squeak when Thrawn rejoined them, though he didn't move or even open his eyes.

"I apologize, but I had work to do," Thrawn said to Astarion, reaching down to scratch him behind the ears.

"So what kind of bat is he?" Eli asked, putting his elbow on the desk so he could rest his chin in his hand.

"Vampire," Thrawn replied, scooping Astarion up and holding him in his palms. "I also have an important job for you in the near future. I want you to tutor our new Ambassador in galactic history and politics, show him how to use the holonet, and possibly teach him Sy Bisti."

"Just as long as it doesn't cut into my other duties, you understand," Eli said, not at all afraid to question or contradict his commanding officer.

Astarion supposed he could understand why some druids were so fond of their animal forms. It was awfully comfortable to be brushed, petted, and scratched behind the ears. He hadn't wanted to transform, of course, and would very much like to turn back soon but it still seemed somewhat out of his control.

He gave a few quick chirrups at Thrawn's response that he was a vampire, because really it was a bad joke. Even if only he and Thrawn were in the know about that.

Astarion raised a wing then as if to wave to the human- he was a quick study and would certainly not take up so much of his time that it cut into his other work. Out of the things Thrawn had mentioned this Sy Bisti sounded most difficult given that he thought it might be some sort of language.

Of course that was only guesswork on his part for now. Could be a specific form of manners or courtly behavior too. Some sort of custom. Hard to tell when all of this was still so alien.

"It won't," Thrawn assured him, noting the way Eli smiled at Astarion, finding the waving cute.

"Pretty smart critter you've got there too," Eli said.

"Yes, he is. I will leave you to your duties and call you if I require anything, Commander." The two nodded at each other, before Thrawn took Astarion back out. Rather than go back to his office, Thrawn took him to the next room over from Eli's.

The room was set up more like a suite with a large bed, a desk with a computer, some comfortable chairs for sitting, and a private washroom. Astarion's bag was on the bed.

"This is where politicians typically stay," Thrawn said. "Consider them your quarters." Thrawn rarely played host to politicians, since most politicians didn't like working with him.

As accommodations went, this was certainly acceptable. Not luxury in the way that Astarion might imagine it, but far better than the Emperor's old hideout beneath the Elfsong, a rented room, a bedroll in the wild, and certainly superior to the dormitory in Cazador's palace.

Though there were plenty of things he couldn't quite recognize, the presence of his bag of belongings brought some sort of familiarity into a space full of unfamiliar things, smells, and sounds. No view to the outside either meaning that it was a safe space for him to be awake in during the day.

Gods he missed being able to be in the sun.

He chirped given that he couldn't speak and it sounded appreciative. He hoped.

Astarion wasn't sure if, as the ambassador for Faerûn, he would be staying aboard Thrawn's ship for long or if he eventually would need to find his own way, but for now it was 'home'. And he could probably add to it to make it a tad less... Sterile. All in good time though.

For now his focus was on trying to change back into his humanoid form.

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