Chapter 33: Thrawn

"Vessel 23-KU, you are entering restricted airspace. Vacate the sector immediately or we will open fire."

So much for a warm welcome from my fellow Imperials, I thought.

"This is Imperial Inquisitor, the Fifth Son. Transmitting clearance codes now. Soldiers, I suggest you do not provoke the Grand Inquisitor. I am certain he awaits our arrival with great impatience."

"Codes verified. Proceed to Landing Platform Three."

The cramped cockpit of the transport shuttle felt even smaller with King and me squeezed inside. The rest of the crew lacked clearance for this section of the vessel; I had no desire to reveal my face to those sentients just yet.

Through the viewport, I watched them, typical denizens of Nar Shaddaa’s underbelly.

"Owner, shall I remain aboard the ship?" King asked. His hands blurred across the instrument panel, and he turned his head toward me without breaking his rhythm. Given I was sitting directly behind him, the mechanical rotation was unsettling.

"It’s better if you disembark with me. No need to give them an excuse," I replied. "Imperials are a nervous lot; they’ll shoot first and ask questions later."

"You are also an Imperial, Owner."

I truly couldn't tell if the droid had learned to simulate irony and sarcasm on his own, or if it was a specific software package.

"Precisely why I speak with such authority on the matter," I muttered.

"Understood, Owner."

The ship descended smoothly toward the designated platform. Even from several dozen meters up, we could overlook the stark, rugged landscape of Ryloth. My gaze, however, was fixed on a small procession of white specks led by my Master. Even at this distance, I could feel his presence blooming in the Force. My training had not been in vain.

Yet, a wave of apprehension washed over my consciousness. We were meeting too soon. I could only hope he wouldn't sense that his Force-induced compulsions had finally lost their grip on me. I had thought myself free before, but it had taken another year of grueling meditation to systematically dismantle the numerous mental triggers he’d embedded in my mind.

I hadn't survived all of this only to die at the hands of my own side. My chances of escaping an Imperial base housing several dark-side adepts were non-existent. As we drew closer, the presence of the Grand Inquisitor wasn't the only thing I felt; other echoes, lesser, but still formidable, reverberated from opposite ends of the fortress.

A light jolt signaled a successful landing. From the cockpit, I could see a pair of defense towers tracking us, their black muzzles staring like hollow eyes.

"Let’s go, King. They’re waiting. And tell the crew not to provoke the stormtroopers."

"My men are not that foolish, Owner."

"Tell them anyway. Just in case."

Grumbling something about "panicky little organics," the droid pulsed a message through the ship’s internal comms. Finally, with a heavy hiss, the airlocks slid open, admitting the crisp morning air. I took a greedy breath, centering myself before facing those who waited.

"Greetings, Grand Inquisitor."

I prostrated myself. The performative hierarchy of the dark side irritated me to no end. The metal of the landing pad felt cold against my knees through my robes. On this side of Ryloth, dawn was just beginning to break. The sun backlit the grim figure towering over me, casting him in a mystical, blood-red halo.

A black-gloved hand rose... and settled on my shoulder. I felt his powerful fingers grip me, then give two firm pats. Was this his version of satisfaction?

"Rise, Fifth Son. There is no time for pleasantries. You are now under my direct command, answering only to my orders. Come, we have much to discuss."

Did I imagine it, or was there a flicker of something resembling joy in his yellow eyes? As I raised my head, he finally took notice of King. His fist clenched in the air, and the stormtroopers instantly leveled their blasters at my droid.

"What is a Separatist droid doing here? Though it hardly looks the part anymore."

"As I reported," I said quickly, "this model belongs to the owner of the enterprise that rescued me following the discovery of the rare deposit. He could not travel personally and sent the droid in his stead."

"Very well. Your companion stays with the soldiers. You won't object if they run a memory diagnostic?"

"Should I?" I asked neutrally.

In truth, why should I care? All the primary locks were coded in my native Earth tongue, fragments of which survived only in my mind. Furthermore, his metallic skull housed the finest security protocols available in Hutt Space, where one can find things that even Coruscant would struggle to procure. There were memory sectors specifically prepared for such moments; let them read whatever they liked. The core was hidden where it was virtually impossible to detect. Even if they found it, I doubted there were more than a handful of sentients in the galaxy capable of bypassing its encryption.

"Splendid. Droid, go with them."

King nodded and moved off under escort toward the base interior, doing his best to mimic the rigid, mechanical gait of his mass-produced brethren.

Leaning toward me, the Grand Inquisitor spoke in a low tone. "Not a word until I permit it. Follow me."

The Imperial fortress was a textbook example of military architecture: standard layout, blaster emplacements effective against both ground and air assaults, marching stormtroopers, and utilitarian blocks. The only thing that broke the aesthetic was the Inquisitor’s residence.

My Master certainly possessed a specific sense of style. The exterior of the two-story building was unremarkable, but the interior had been transformed into a perfect replica of his quarters aboard his ship. Black stone tiles lined the floor. Training equipment was strategically placed. The decor was an improbable fusion of Imperial austerity and something almost Eastern. It was divided into a residential level and a training floor.

I wondered where he secured the credits for such luxury. Or did he simply haul his furniture across the stars?

"Now we can speak freely," the Grand Inquisitor said, seating himself gracefully on a mat, his yellow eyes never leaving mine. "I must admit, I am impressed. I did not expect you to be quite this... useful."

"Thank you, Master."

"I was not finished." Irritation flashed in his unblinking eyes for a second before vanishing. "Now, we must meet the Emperor’s expectations. You are transferred to my personal command. You follow only my orders or those of the Emperor himself. No one else, do you hear me? No one has the right to question or demand anything of you. Is that clear?"

Through the Force, I felt something brush against my mind—a slick, unpleasant dark tentacle probing for entry. He didn't trust me. I had expected as much; I had spent the last two years preparing for constant scrutiny.

I had been fortunate with my "other" Master. His depth of knowledge was staggering. Under his guidance, and after many failed attempts, I had successfully constructed "decoys" within my consciousness. To a superficial scan, they were indistinguishable from the real thing. A specialist might find the seams given enough time, but for now, the ruse held. Within seconds, the intrusion receded.

"Understood. What are my orders?"

"You are free for the next three days. Recover. Torture and near-death take a toll on the body. I will summon you when needed."

"May I go?"

A slight wave of his hand toward the door was my answer. "You may. Your quarters are in Block 31-9; everything you need is there. I will be finalizing the strategy. I expect we will have the enemy's exact coordinates within the month."

"Very well." I stood and headed for the door, but paused at the threshold. "Master?"

"What?" He was already beginning to sink into meditation, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"While I have the opportunity, I wish to continue my training. After I have rested. May I have access to my holocron?"

"Hmm." He seemed to weigh the benefits to himself. "Yes, perhaps. It will be delivered in a few days. Now go. Rest while you can."

"Yes, Master."

But events began to move much faster than anticipated.

Shadows clung to the corners of the room. The local sun had dipped below the horizon, and the lighting was noticeably dim. The lamps were in power-saving mode, barely illuminating the chamber. Local insurgents had managed to sabotage the power station, forcing all nearby fortresses into low-consumption mode.

However, the local resistance was the last thing on the minds of those gathered. Several officers sat on one side of a long table, watching the guest enter.

Through the Force, I felt waves of calm, poised confidence radiating from him. There was no aggression, no anxiety, only a mild interest, as if he were observing something novel. In contrast, the tension from the officers was so thick it felt physical.

I had reviewed this sentient’s dossier. A remarkable individual. He had appeared from nowhere, and by the Emperor’s personal patronage, graduated from the Royal Imperial Academy on Coruscant before taking command of a vessel. In just a year of service, he had neutralized more pirates than entire regional fleets managed in twice that time. Thanks to him, the Empire had secured a safe trade corridor across several systems. His analytical capabilities were so profound that the ISB had tried to recruit him, but he had chosen to remain with the fleet.

His glowing red eyes studied everyone in the room. Even with his hands bound, he carried himself as if the officers were reporting to him, rather than the other way around. His white uniform highlighted his athletic build and blue skin.

He spoke in a cultured, resonant voice. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rear Admiral Thrawn."

A non-human officer. Remarkable. Even after reading the dossier, I had struggled to believe it. This was a first for me, setting aside the Inquisitors.

"I thank you for the assistance provided to my crew in repairing our vessel. The Separatist fleet has undergone minor but numerous technical enhancements for which I was unprepared. I had anticipated they would follow a different tactical evolution. It appears the remnants of the Alliance are no longer led solely by Neimoidians, but by someone more... bellicose. My ship barely escaped with vital intelligence."

A murmur rippled through the hall. Most present likely dismissed the threat as the Emperor's paranoia.

"Tell us the truth, you simply fled," a portly, elderly officer sneered. "I know your task force included four Arquitens-class light cruisers. You arrived with only one, and in a wretched state at that!"

The man looked ready to foam at the mouth. I wondered if it was a personal grudge or if he simply despised "aliens."

I expected Thrawn to react with anger or defensiveness, but he remained utterly serene. It was the look one gives a child throwing a tantrum while trying to act grown-up.

"If you are curious as to the fate of the other vessels, Commander Marlo, you may request my mission report." Thrawn’s voice held no hint of mockery, only cold, pragmatic fact.

"That report is classified by the ISB! How am I supposed to—"

"Enough," the Grand Inquisitor cut him off with a sharp word. "Thrawn, why did you demand an emergency briefing of all ranking officers?"

Usually, my Master’s voice alone was enough to make officers flinch. Thrawn merely continued to gaze steadily at the assembly.

"My group has successfully identified the location of a key enemy world. According to our intelligence, it houses several droid manufacturing facilities, including the one responsible for fifty percent of their current production."

He said it with the casual tone of someone mentioning a trip to the market, not the rebirth of an enemy army.

A deathly silence fell over the room. Officers exchanged uncertain glances, their faces ranging from fear to excitement. Only the Grand Inquisitor remained outwardly calm, though I could feel a burning impatience radiating from him. Thrawn didn't move a muscle, showing no satisfaction at the effect he’d produced.

Finally, a young lieutenant found the courage to ask the question on everyone's mind. His voice was faint, but in the silence, it rang out like a thermal detonator.

"How? How did you manage to find it?"

"I hypothesized that the Separatists might occasionally utilize their old encrypted comm-codes to locate surviving cells. This would explain the disappearance of droids from Imperial scrap-yards and the vanishing of isolated enemy groups from occupied Outer Rim worlds. Official records cited pirate raids, but what of value was there to take? It was a simple matter of gathering a few hundred droids, securing transport, and uploading a specific sub-routine."

"But we attempted similar ruses," another officer protested. "Nothing worked. How did you succeed?"

"It required a plausible scenario," Thrawn explained. "For instance: a remnant droid unit landing on Jabiim prior to the shutdown to prepare sabotages. Jabiim's atmospheric conditions make external communication nearly impossible. Thus, the deactivation command never reached them."

"Inconceivable! Would the Separatists risk exposure for a handful of obsolete droids?" A chorus of approval met this statement. No one wanted to admit this one officer had outclassed them all.

"Certainly not," Thrawn replied. "The factories produce hundreds of droids daily; once completed, they will churn out thousands. But what if those 'obsolete' droids captured a high-ranking officer, a Rear Admiral actively hunting Separatists? Would they risk exposure then? I gambled that they would. I was correct. If the Empire already knows of their existence and has formed a task force, it is more logical for them to capture the commanding officer for intelligence than to wait for an unknown strike, especially when a large droid force has already done the work for them."

A tense silence returned. None of these officers would have dreamt of surrendering themselves as bait. They knew it, and it made them even angrier.

"And how did you escape?"

"If you desire the details, the report is available for study."

The rising chatter was silenced by my Master's cold voice. "We will study it. Most thoroughly." The Grand Inquisitor rose. "The Emperor said you were a capable specialist. It seems he was right. You will join the group planning the first phase of the campaign."

"As soon as I am certain my people are quartered and supplied," Thrawn replied.

"Do not dally, Thrawn," the Inquisitor’s voice took on a metallic edge. "You have one day."

With a calm nod, Thrawn held his hands out to a nearby stormtrooper. The binders clicked open. With a parting nod, the officer left the room. The rest of the assembly began to disperse.

"I must depart to meet with the Emperor and report on this development," the Grand Inquisitor told me. "Fifth Son, you are to monitor Thrawn’s movements."

"As you command."

What choice did I have? Not the most exciting task, but better than sitting with that "distinguished" company and catching their glares. Over the last week and a half, I’d seen how the dark reputation of the Inquisitorius and Lord Vader lived in the minds of the military. We were feared, we were lauded, but mostly, we were hated. We were the people who could kill them regardless of rank or connections.

Given my ambiguous status, they were doubly wary. Could they dismiss me? What information could I access? They simply avoided me.

Since King left, after satisfying Imperial Security’s curiosity, things had become dull. I couldn't exactly discuss my problems with my Master. And the "resident" of my red pyramid holocron had only spoken to me for a few hours before vanishing for the last two weeks. The process of "reconstructing" the holocron was proving more difficult than he’d anticipated. After some cryptic advice and a scolding for losing my lightsaber, he’d disappeared mid-sentence.

So, trailing an unusual officer was a welcome change.

Slipping out like a shadow, I caught up with Thrawn, who was walking slowly under the escort of Death Troopers. I suspected he was maintaining a leisurely pace specifically so someone could catch him. As I approached, the procession stopped. Attentive red eyes looked down at me.

"Do you require something, young man?"

"I have been ordered to look after you," I said. "You are too valuable to be left without proper protection."

The soldiers radiated irritation, but I ignored them.

"As you wish," Thrawn said, unruffled. "Will you be accompanying me everywhere?"

"Yes. Until further orders."

"In that case, follow me. Do you mind if I ask a few questions?"

"Go ahead. If it isn't classified, I'll answer."

We walked down the corridor. Up close, the blue-skinned officer was imposing. Despite my own height, nearly 170 centimeters, he towered over me by at least a head. His white tunic emphasized broad shoulders and a lean frame. His movements were fluid, marking him as a combatant. He was nothing like the soft, sedentary fleet officers I’d encountered before.

He, in turn, was observing me. I likely made for an interesting sight. My dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, though stray locks still framed my face. My cheeks were hollow from prolonged hardship. My loose clothing hid the details of my frame, but my gauntness was evident.

"I assume you are an Inquisitor?"

"You assume correctly."

He nodded to himself. "In that case, I am curious about your application of the Force. I have encountered Force-users before, but where I am from, it is utilized differently."

"Whom did you know?"

"I had the occasion to cross paths with General Anakin Skywalker of the Republic Army. Unfortunately, the circumstances did not permit an extended dialogue."

I blinked. Skywalker? This man was even more significant than I’d realized. Given that he now served the Empire, and the Republic had no alien officers, he must have entered service under the Emperor’s personal aegis.

"What specifically interests you?"

"How do you control it?"

"Why that question?" I asked.

"The phenomenon of the Force interested me even in my home system." For a fleeting moment, a ripple of sadness touched the Force, but it was gone instantly. "Now, it is a matter of practical interest. When I was held captive, they attempted to break me using adepts. If I understood correctly—I am not entirely fluent in Geonosian—my mind was too disciplined for them to read. And they did not wish to destroy my brain. Thus, I wish to know how to counter an adept."

Did he realize how dangerous that sounded? He was developing a strategy to counter people like us. I would have to report this to my Master.

"I suggest you study the records of the Great Jedi Purge," I said coolly. "But it shouldn't be necessary. That is why the Inquisitorius exists. Force-user against Force-user."

"An inefficient strategy," Thrawn countered. "With stormtrooper support, effectiveness increases. I am aware of specialized units—"

"Thrawn. Inquisitor business is Inquisitor business. I appreciate your zeal, but stay out of our jurisdiction. I am sure the Emperor knows exactly what we are capable of."

"I see. In that case, what is your opinion on the current TIE series starfighters?"

The sudden shift in topic caught me off guard. "I haven't had the chance to fly one yet."

"A pity. I wished to know how the model could be refined from the perspective of a Force-sensitive. Very well, I have no further questions. Do you have any for me?"

"Actually, yes. How do you see events unfolding?"

His red eyes widened slightly. "I am merely a Rear Admiral. It is not my place to draft the campaign strategy."  

"A Rear Admiral the Emperor knows by name? A Rear Admiral who escaped the heart of the new Confederacy? Admit it, Thrawn, your ships weren't damaged. You sent them to patrol the borders."

His mask of indifference barely flickered, but I caught the spark of surprise in the Force.

"You are a clever youth."

"One has to be, to survive."

"I cannot provide a war plan while I am under suspicion of espionage," Thrawn said smoothly. "My words could be interpreted as influencing a high-ranking Imperial official, which leads to a tribunal. I would prefer to avoid that."

He was good. Very good.

"So your questions to me don't count as 'influencing'?"

"Correct. You could have simply chosen not to answer..."

My commlink chirped, cutting him off. "I am here, Grand Inquisitor."

"Return to my residence immediately. Instructions await." My Master’s voice was strained, failing to hide his agitation. What now? Had the Separatists struck first? Had they found Yoda?

"I believe we will continue this later," I told Thrawn.

"Agreed. I am certain our paths will cross again."

I turned on my heel and hurried back.

"Why were you so slow?!" My Master was pacing like a caged animal. His pale skin looked even more sallow, the dark circles under his eyes deeper. We had seen each other less than an hour ago.

"What's happened?" His nervousness was infectious.

"The plans have been tossed into a Sarlacc’s maw!" He smashed a wooden railing into splinters with the Force. "The first phase is set. The intelligence Thrawn brought has changed everything. Lord Vader will personally lead the invasion. All forces are being transferred to his command."

"That means..."

"Yes! That armored cripple will steal my triumph! I hate him! And you are still too weak for us to oppose him. The circumstances aren't right for internal power struggles."

I didn't care about his "triumph." Fighting Vader? No, thank you. I’d rather be on Vader’s side, or better yet, nowhere near their collision. I had no intention of dying before I had my revenge. Once this campaign ended, I would find the one who truly owed me. The memory stirred the embers of my hatred.

"Do not be discouraged, apprentice," the Grand Inquisitor said, his yellow eyes locking onto mine. He seemed satisfied with what he saw and smiled. "Orders have arrived to mobilize all forces."

A lightsaber hilt flew from the depths of the room into his hand. His own remained on his belt. My new weapon.

Thank the Force, it wasn't the typical Inquisitor double-bladed spinning toy. It was a standard hilt, dark grey and functional. A crimson blade ignited, bathing his tattooed face in a bloody glow.

His voice dropped into a low, abyssal rumble. "Apprentice, we begin the campaign against the Separatist remnants. Do not fail me."

"Yes, Master."