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Thrass couldn't help but anxiously tap his foot as he glanced down at his watch for the fifth time in the past ten minutes; Thrawn only had thirty seconds left to arrive if he wished to be considered on time. Just as the Syndic was about to pull out his commlink, the door opened, revealing two Chiss adorned in their finest clothing.

"Happy Bin'vaco Csihn, brother." Thrawn greeted as he shimmied out of his coat, revealing his pristine dress uniform, embellished with elegant chains of gold, bearing a handful of symbols and awards. Thrass took pride in the fact that he had memorized each trinket and its meaning; it was worth it to see Thrawn's features light up when hearing Thass recall such minute details.

"For a moment I thought you were going to be late." Thrass chided as he shook his head before turning his attention to the woman before him. "I don't believe we have met before, I'm Thrass, Thrawns brother."

The woman met him with a firm, sturdy handshake. "Thalias, a friend of Thrawns." She answered cheerfully. "I didn't know you had a brother." Thalias said, turning her attention back to Thrawn.

The Senior Captain merely shrugged in response. "Not many people do."

"Alright, alright, enough chitchat we need to get down to business." Thrass said with an exaggerated wave of his hand as he set down three shot glasses. "I'm assuming Thrawn has explained the basics of our contest?" Thrass asked as he met Thalias's wide-eyed stare. 

She shook her head. "We ran into each other, and he merely asked me if I wanted to participate in a drinking game." Thalias paused for a moment, her lips curling into a playful smile. "All I know is I have spent too many of these damn dinner's sober over the past ten years."

Thrass gave an approving nod. "Then you have come to the right place." He couldn't help but let his mind linger back to previous Bin'vasco Csihn's; it was a celebration he hadn't known existed until he had joined the Mitth – apparently, it was supposed to be celebrated by every family no matter their size or importance, but over the years it had become a tradition singular to the nine. Bin'vasco Csihn was about honoring Chiss of the past, those who allowed the Ascendancy to morph into its current glorious state. Still, over the years, the night had morphed into the selected few invited fighting for the Patriarch's favor.

Since they earned their seats at the table, both brothers mutually agreed they could no longer endure hours upon hours of low-ranking Arisocra members begging for Thooraki to spare a glance in their direction. Hence the creation of Death on the Rocks.

It had become a yearly staple; Thrass would craft the painfully specific list dictating when they would drink, Thrawn would supply the alcohol.

"Are there any other rules besides following the list? How do you win the game?" Thalias asked after Thrass gave her the rundown.

This time Thrawn was the one to respond. "The winner is whoever can make it back to the room without any supports, or if all participants can accomplish this task, then it falls to whoever can recite the alphabet without making a mistake." A brief smile touched his lips as if he, too, was reminiscing on years prior. "Don't be obvious when taking your shot, if anyone else catches onto our little game you can be certain they'll bring it to the Patriarch's attention immediately. Also, if you're going to be sick, make sure you make it to the bathroom." Lightly, Thrawn ran a hand through his heavily gelled hair. "Guaranteed I don't think Thooraki will care but I would not want either of your reputations to suffer."

"What about your reputation?" Thalias quickly countered, lodging her hand on her hip.

Thrass couldn't help but dramatically wave his hand again. "Trust me, in Thooraki's eyes, Thrawn can do nothing wrong."

A small smile played on Thrawn's lips as he fished out a bottle from his coat pocket. "You said it brother, not me."

"So, who has won more rounds?" Thalias interjected, closely observing each man's face as if trying to predict the answer.

Thrass lightly shook his head. "Unfortunately, Thrawn has won every year, which means you are fair game to break his streak. Sadly, I have grown to believe it was alcohol he was given at birth instead of milk; therefore, I have a feeling he will probably win again." Rolling up his sleeves, he made his way towards Thrawn.

"Being from Rentor does have its occasional perks."

Thrass couldn't help but roll his eyes as he took the bottle from Thrawn's hands and carefully inspected the label. "Spirytus Vodka?" He said aloud as he turned the bottle over. "96% alcohol, Gods Thrawn, who did you shoot to acquire this?"

Thrawn merely shrugged. "I won it in a bet against Ar'alani." He said casually. "A story for another time, what criteria have you come up with this year?"

Momentarily, Thrass set the bottle down and grabbed the sheet of paper he had placed earlier. "The rules are simple, take a single shot when somebody: singles out Thrawn, asks about dating life, says the word moist, sucks up to Thooraki, gives unsolicited advice, says of glory and brilliance, says the term preemptive strike, and lastly if we are force to go around the table and say what we are grateful for."

"Well done brother, I dare say you out did yourself this year." Thrawn said as he gave Thrass's shoulder a hearty pat.

"Please, please, you are too kind." Thrass huffed as he undid the seal and poured three equal shots, handing one to Thrawn and Thalias in the process. "We all begin with one, to ensure the game is somewhat equal."

"No chaser?" Thalias asked suspiciously as she sniffed the putrid liquid.

"Mitth do not need chasers." Announced Thrawn as he lightly tapped both their glasses and swiftly downed the colorless liquor, seemingly unaffected by the vodka's scorching aftertaste.

"You're insane." Thalias muttered as she copied his movements, painfully scrunching her nose as the vodka kissed her throat. "This is absolutely foul."

Thrass was inclined to agree as he consumed his first shot. As he slipped the bottle into the innermost pocket of his robe, Thrass ushered Thrawn and Thalias forward.

"Alright, let's show them what it means to be an adoptive of the Mitth."

Thrass found himself seated directly in the middle by the graciousness of the warrior's fortune, Thrawn and Thalias flaking both his sides.

In the hour and a half since dinner's commencement, Thrass had already found himself four shots in, two of them being the direct result of Thurfian dropping the term 'preemptive strike,' while simultaneously trying to worm his way back onto Thooraki's good side.

As he took a hearty bite of his csosvomi stew, mentally Thrass scanned the faces seated across from him; he couldn't help but wonder who would be to blame for his next drink. His intuition led him towards Thurfian, but it was too late by then, Thrawn had already opened his mouth by then.

"Patriarch, this is possibly the best csosvomi I have had in years." Thrawn said as he inclined his head directly towards Thooraki. "It is so tender and moist, my most sincere compliments to the chef."

For a moment, Thrass met Thalias's gaping stare. Thrawn knew he could out-drink them both and was now just playing dirty. Subtly filling each of their glasses, Thrass sent daggers at Thrawn, who was too busy chatting with Thooraki to notice.

"I'm glad you enjoy it, my son, I am even gladder that you could take a moment out of your busy schedule to join us this evening." The Patriarch smiled as he spoke, raising his half-empty glass in the process.

Thrawn mimicked his movements instead, lifting his untouched water cup. "To glory and brilliance."

As Thrass took his first of three additional shots, he could feel himself beginning to sweat. Considering he was already feeling borderline drunk, too much at a rapid pace was sure to send him over the edge, and he would be damned if he was the reason, Bin'vaco Csihn was ruined.  Thrass needed a new plan of attack.

Turning his attention back to Thalias, Thrass steepled his fingers, a gesture he always noticed Thrawn used when he was deep in thought.

"We have to find a way to get him to shut up." Thrass quietly hissed.

Thalias nodded as her cheeks flushed, a devious smile creeping onto her lips. "Trust me, I have an idea." She said as she turned to face Thurfian.

All Thrass could do was watch, holding equal parts admiration and fear as Thalias tore the man a new one.

"Syndic, isn't it true that you've always hated Thrawn? Even when he was a mere teenager?" Her words were crisp and strong, despite the ungodly amount of alcohol swimming in her system.

For a moment, Thurfian looked taken back before narrowing in on the three of them. "I don't know what you wish to accomplish by bringing up such a falsehood, but no, that's not true."

Thalias's eyes widened. "So, for a moment, you liked Thrawn!"

Thrass watched as Thurfian's face paled, almost as if he was going to be ill. The Syndic's mouth opened like he was going to rebuke Thalias's claim with every fiber of his being, just as Thooraki's gaze fell upon him.

"What's all this about Syndic Thurfian?" The Patriarch asked, his eyes sharpening.

Thurfian slowly blinked as if trying to find his way out. "Nothing, your Venerate." He paused a moment, a flash of pure disgust kissing his sharp features as he turned back to look at Thalias, Thrass, and Thrawn. "I was just telling caregiver Thalias…." His voice trailed off for a heartbeat. "How lucky we are to have merit adoptees such as herself and Senior Captain Thrawn." He said through clenched teeth.

Thooraki gave the man a warm smile in response. "A kind, yet verifiable deduction Syndic, you must truly be feeling the spirit of Bin'vaco Csihn tonight."

Thrass couldn't help but let his gaze linger as he took in Thurfian's courteous nod before the older man drained his drink in one fell swoop.  This truly was going to be a Bin'vaco Csihn for the books – if he could remember any of it by tomorrow.

After his tenth shot, Thrass lost track of how much he had had and how much he still needed to drink to meet the demands of the list. Perhaps it was the alcohol or Thrawn and Thalias's outrageous stories from their youth, but the minutes and hours seemingly blurred with ease alongside each delicate drop of conversation.

Thrass didn't even bother to look at his watch as the last of the Mitth family left the table, leaving the three of them alone.

"I don't think I can stand up." He found himself muttering, painfully aware of how lose his tongue felt.

"Mmmm." Thalias hummed in response, her head lightly resting on his shoulder. 

For another heartbeat, Thrass remained in the unspoken tranquility as his drunken haze brought him closer to the point of no return. Just as his eyes were about to slip shut, a pair of firm hands lifted him upright.

"You're alright." Thrawn's voice sounded distant as he steadied Thrass and moved on to Thalias. Within minutes Thrawn stood in between the two, gently steering them back in the direction of Thrass's room.

With only one near stumble by Thalias, the three made it back unscathed.

"How are you fine?" Thalias mumbled as Thrawn gently deposited the both of them on Thrass's bed.

"Perhaps warrior's fortune smiled upon me when deciding my tolerance." Thrawn softly hummed as he tucked Thalias and Thrass in.

Forcing himself into a sitting position, Thrass let his unfocused gaze rest on Thrawn for a moment. "Stay."

He couldn't be sure if Thrawn took up his offer after his head hit the pillow, but he was almost certain he felt the indent in the mattress next to Thalias deepen as he drifted off to sleep, the perfect end to another successful Bin'vaco Csihn.