Chapter Text
Her memory shifted…
She wore a white dress in solidarity with her Grand Admiral. Everyone knew Palpatine loved his pomp and circumstance and Thrawn’s elevation to the Imperial Navy’s highest rank was certainly enough of an excuse for a celebration; despite the guest of honor’s distaste of such things.
The Chiss shook his head at a loss for the absolute uselessness of the gesture. The woman next to him fidgeted nervously with her evening gown, shooting a patient look up at him. Thrawn in turn, smirked down at her – she should know after all these years…
She playfully smacked him on the shoulder, “Did you smile and laugh at his jokes, like I told you to?”
“No.”
She switched to Sy Bisti, casually dropping her gaze to the floor.
“You did not confront him about…that thing, did you?” she whispered the last part; fear entering her voice.
“I did.” He answered in the same language
Her head shot up, her brown eyes widened and the verbal tirade that followed was even more shrill because it was in Sy Bisti. “You are a reckless idiot, Mitth’raw’nuruodo!” she flung her arms up in defeat, “I did not spend the last decade of my life in this thankless job only to have you commit suicide by pissing off the Emperor and -”
“Thankless?” he arched an eyebrow in question, “I take exception to such an accusation. There have been many times I have thanked you for your service to me.”
She stared at him sputtering as her face turned red with anger; her elaborate brown braid swinging as she shook her head vigorously.
“If you get yourself killed, what do I have to show for the last ten years?”
The Grand Admiral ignored her query switching to Basic, “His Majesty introduced me to Lord Vader, as well.”
She stared up at him in utter bewilderment, “I hate you.”
His tone was almost cheerful, “I know.”
And then, he did something unlike the Thrawn she had known for so many years – quite contrary to the Chiss she and Voss and found abandoned; exiled on a backwater planet at the edge of the Unknown Regions. The glacially calm, clinical exterior of the newly minted Grand Admiral faltered; he pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers.
She didn’t resist.
She had let her hair down, brushed it out and pinned it back with a comb; blue, made from a mollusk shell. She went to him and let her brown tresses fall to her shoulders before him, crawling into his bed.
He spoke her name softly and, in the morning, when the Grand Admiral woke, next to him lay the comb – the clip to secure the brown waves he had run his fingers through the previous night.
She left a freshly cut moon flower and a carved wooden box. He didn’t need to look inside to know what was in it. She had braided her hair again and in an act of commitment to him, cut it, keeping the delicate pattern of the plait intact via a series of clips and pins.
It was a symbol.
For him…she was for him.
But she was gone and likely lost to him forever if he didn’t act soon.
Her memory shifted again – this time violently…
The boy was sad but resolute. The sadness was understandable; Governor Arihnda Pryce had caused the death of the other Jedi. The resolve was understandable; Lothal and its people were being oppressed.
She found the determination of the Rebels to be honorable, like the man she was desperate to save.
He was honorable. He was good. No matter how hard he tried to hide what he really was from the Empire by supporting a tyrant and taking credit for unspeakable acts.
She knew the truth.
“Ezra Bridger?” she didn’t really need to ask; recognizing him from the wanted posters.
“Your message was cryptic, but I figured I owed you at least the benefit of the doubt since you’ve done so much for the people of Lothal.” The boy stepped forward.
She nodded “Thank you for that.”
“What do you want?”
She took a deep breath. She had rehearsed her argument. Even if he didn’t buy into logic, Jedi could still sense a lie, and he would know she was telling the truth. If she told him her real name and finally admitted to the galaxy that she had created what they thought was a monster – he would understand.
She knew the man she was trying to save better than anyone.
“I want you to help someone escape the Empire.”
Bridger’s eyes narrowed, “Who exactly do you want me to help?”
“Grand Admiral Thrawn.”
Her mind tilted and memory failed her…There was only darkness after that.