@wantonwhale this is your fault, for the record
An unfortunate refusal to cooperate
“So let me make sure I’ve got this straight,” Yularen said skeptically as he strode with Thrawn down one of the Chimaera’s many corridors. “You say you’ve captured a smuggler with information about… missing doonium shipments.”
Thrawn nodded, a tiny dip of the head. “Yes.”
“And you need me to help you interrogate him.”
Thrawn nodded again. “Yes.”
“...In your private quarters,” Yularen finished dryly as they came to a halt in front of the Admiral’s door.
“Correct.” Thrawn swiped his command cylinder over the door panel and gestured politely for Yularen to enter.
“Mhm.” Yularen raised an eyebrow and got a faint smirk back in return, before Thrawn led the way into the bedroom.
Commander Vanto was already there, manacled to a chair that had clearly been dragged in for the purpose, with a rather artfully torn-open shirt and slicked-back hair. He lifted his chin in a belligerent scowl when Yularen and Thrawn walked in.
“Meet Horatio Figg,” Thrawn said evenly. “He unfortunately refuses to cooperate with questioning.”
“I ain’t telling you nothing,” Vanto spat, slouching further in his seat— and not very subtly spreading his legs. Perhaps on the off-chance Yularen hadn’t already noticed the obvious tent in his pants. “Do your worst, Imps.”
Yularen raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into a smirk.
“This one is pretty thin, even for you two,” he noted idly, unfastening the sealing strip of his uniform tunic. Vanto grinned up at him, eyes wandering appreciatively, before slipping back into his challenging stare.
“Are you complaining?” he asked mildly, stepping behind the ‘captured smuggler’ and fisting a hand in Vanto’s hair. Hard enough to make him hiss a sharp breath in between his teeth, thighs twitching and hips lifting in response.
Neatly folding his white tunic, Yularen set it aside— and double-checked his comm was set to priority alerts only.
