Nine years, seven months, and thirty-five days after the Battle of Yavin...
Or forty-four years, seven months, and thirty-five days after the Great Resynchronization.
(Three months and twenty days since the arrival.)
Wedge Antilles' eyes were literally drooping from exhaustion and a desperate desire for even a brief nap. Since the remnants of the task force arrived at Elom, the base of the New Republic's Third Military Fleet, he hadn't closed his eyes, rested his head on a pillow, or experienced a moment of silence.
Reports, meetings, briefings, budgets, revisions to already-prepared documents, and drafting new ones.
And amidst all this, he had to attend the endless councils led by Admiral Ackbar, who had returned to his position as Commander-in-Chief of the New Republic Armed Forces. Well, at least one good thing came from Councilor Fey'lya's disappearance: the moment the patron of the renowned admiral's detractors vanished, Iella's hands were untied. Based on circumstantial evidence, she managed to officially and fully in accordance with legal standards terminate the criminal investigation against Ackbar and clear him of all charges.
And now the Mon Calamari was working at an accelerated pace to clear the bureaucratic bantha poodoo left by his temporary predecessor.
However, Wedge was fighting sleep for an entirely different reason now.
The holographic image of Grand Admiral Thrawn, projected in the middle of his quarters, stared at the Corellian as if intending to burn a hole through him. Wedge had already watched this recording multiple times at Ackbar's request. The senior officer decided that the young general must review the Imperial commander's statement and provide his insights on the matter.
But Wedge was so exhausted that he lacked the energy to analyze anything himself. That was precisely why Iella Wessiri was now sitting on his couch, sipping a refreshing drink, preparing to replay the recording that the Imperial had broadcast on the HoloNet at exactly midnight Coruscant time.
The bastard definitely knew how to ruin the lives of the entire Provisional Government (Wedge had no doubt that no one on Coruscant was sleeping either, frantically wondering what to do next).
— Honestly, — Wedge yawned and took a large gulp of caf. The drink was cold. What a vile taste. — I thought you'd be watching the recording all by your lonesome.
— You're practically falling asleep as it is, — Iella waved a hand dismissively. — So consider me alone. Just as you planned.
— If that were true, I'd be the one lying on that couch, — Wedge grumbled. — Curled up and wrapped in a warm blanket.
— In your long-unwashed general's uniform, which reeks like a rancor's breath, — Iella noted.
Wedge sniffed himself. Yeah, maybe a little... Wait, why were tears welling up in his eyes?
— Let's just watch it, — he suggested, changing the subject. — Two heads are better than one...
— General Antilles, — the young woman said with a chuckle. — First, you're going to the refresher to restore your human appearance and smell, and only then will I allow you to sit on this couch with me.
— It's my couch, — Wedge reminded her.
— And I'm the one sitting on it, — Iella countered, looking him straight in the eyes.
— So that's how it is? Playing your trump card right away? — Wedge muttered, pulling off his now-despised jacket. — Fine, I'll be quick.
Fifteen minutes later, after nearly slipping twice, almost falling asleep three times, taking a cold shower, and scrubbing off all possible grime, Wedge donned the only clean outer garment he had left—a spare flight suit.
Grabbing some drinks and a light snack, clutching a warm blanket in his teeth and a pillow under his arm, he joined Iella on the couch.
— Operation to reclaim the furniture has begun, — he declared, setting the drinks and provisions on a small table in front of the couch. Iella deftly kicked off her shoes and curled up on the couch, feet tucked under her—treacherously claiming the pillow and blanket.
— That's a low blow, — Wedge said, realizing he'd been robbed of his sacred possessions.
— If the general doesn't wish to tend to the lady he invited to analyze the enemy commander's actions, then the lady will secure her own comfort, — Iella declared.
— We're not having a battle over a pillow and blanket just because you're a girl and I'm a gallant general, — Wedge said, standing and heading toward the closet with spare bedding.
— And because you have a second set, — Iella corrected.
— Actually, there were three, — Wedge said thoughtfully, staring at the empty spot on the shelf. — Looks like someone swiped one... I'll have to give Nawara a piece of my mind. Letting just anyone in here.
A minute later, he and Iella, mirroring each other, settled on opposite ends of the couch, armed with everything needed to watch the holovid.
Wedge, carefully hiding a yawn from his friend, started the playback.
— Good day, citizens of the galaxy, — the Imperial's voice was commanding, with stunningly authoritative tones that sent chills down the spine. Even watching the recording for the umpteenth time. — My name is Grand Admiral Thrawn, Supreme Commander of the Galactic Empire's armed forces. Several days ago, my fleet crushed a task force of the New Republic's Fourth Military Fleet, which had displayed aggressive actions against the Imperial state—the Ciutric Hegemony. During the attack, orchestrated by the New Republic's acting commander-in-chief, Councilor Fey'lya, the ruler of the Ciutric Hegemony, Prince-Admiral Krennel, was killed. The pretexts used by the New Republic to justify the legality of their invasion are entirely fabricated and unlawful. The New Republic, as is its custom, along with its leaders, has provided no evidence to the contrary, nor has it proven that anyone was aware of the alleged research before the New Republic invaded the star systems of the Hegemony. Moreover, pirate hordes followed in their wake, causing suffering to the populations of three star systems. Meanwhile, my fleet's raids on various worlds revealed a simple truth: there was no "Death Star" within the Hegemony's territory, nor has there ever been. There are also no legal grounds to hold Prince-Admiral Krennel accountable for the overthrow of the previous ruler, Sate Pestage. Once again, the New Republic has shown its imperialistic, predatory nature, completely at odds with the principles it claims to uphold. The attack on the Hegemony, supposedly to hold Prince-Admiral Krennel accountable for Sate Pestage's death, is nothing more than an act of vengeance against him for his actions against the Hegemony's former ruler. Not all of you may know, but when Sate Pestage fled Coruscant, he intended to surrender the Imperial Center to the Rebel Alliance. For such treachery, he was sentenced to death by Imperial authorities. The sentence was carried out by the Prince-Admiral, despite the New Republic's attempts to evacuate the traitor. Thus, the current aggression against the Hegemony is nothing more than an act of impotent rage and revenge against the Prince-Admiral for executing his command's orders, as well as the realization of their own expansionist plans regarding the Hegemony's industry and economy. It is no secret that the New Republic is currently scrambling to restore interstellar trade and is enlisting anyone with transport starships, including smugglers from the organization of information broker Talon Karrde and his associates. In other words, the New Republic, while meticulously crafting an image of a democratic state supposedly adhering strictly to its own laws, employs the services of criminal elements for its own purposes. Frankly, nothing else was expected from a band of rogues and rebels who, through their actions, dismantled the galactic hegemon, disrupted trade logistics, and plunged the galaxy into an ongoing war that has lasted for years. Notably, the New Republic diligently conceals its own war crimes. For instance, several years ago, the New Republic conducted an operation to capture the Imperial Center, the planet Coruscant. This battle, officially propagandized by the Republic as "nearly bloodless," conveniently omits that the Republic's government forgets to tell its citizens and the galaxy that they orchestrated a bloodbath in the Imperial Palace, indiscriminately killing officials, bureaucrats, clerks, and other personnel to seize the symbol of the late Emperor Palpatine's power as quickly as possible. They also targeted the data archives stored in the Palace's underlevels, which contained comprehensive information held by its staff. To bring justice to the criminals responsible for these murders of Imperial citizens, I conducted a special operation to capture General Tyr Taskeen, who commanded this Rebel Alliance operation—effectively committing a war crime against civilians. Whatever you believe the ordinary bureaucrats and Imperial servants were guilty of, they were merely officials. By all laws of morality and justice, they should have been judged by Coruscant's new authorities, not slaughtered without trial. However, double standards toward former Imperial subjects are standard behavior from the Rebel leadership and the New Republic. They don't advertise that, after capturing Coruscant and killing or expelling Imperial officials from their posts, they almost immediately rehired them because they know nothing about governance. A prime example is the scandal on the planet New Cov, where it was revealed that the Bothan segment of the New Republic's Provisional Government planned to lobby for the planet's inclusion under a governor implicated in criminal dealings with pirates, responsible for the deaths of subordinates who witnessed his illicit agreements. But you need not take my word for it. I will show you recordings that confirm my statements...
Wedge paused the playback.
— I don't think we need to watch General Taskeen's confession detailing the assault on the Imperial Palace again, — he said.
— Or the New Cov recordings, — Iella confirmed. — You know... it gives me chills how well-informed this sentient is.
— No surprise there, — Wedge grumbled. — We know Isard is alive, and her trail leads to Ciutric. Krennel was there before, and now it's Thrawn. I'm sure that pair used Delak like a rabid rancor, then sicced Fey'lya on him, and now they're waging an information war against us.
— Which we've been losing from the start, — Iella sighed. — Coruscant still hasn't issued a rebuttal?
— Rebut what? — Wedge sighed. — Alongside Thrawn's broadcast, recordings of Alderaanian pilots surfaced on the HoloNet, ones General Taskeen sent against Shohashi to cover his retreat. The Imperial uniforms on them practically scream they've defected... Ackbar told me they'll try to do something, but after Thrawn captured Fey'lya and exposed the full scope of his operations against us... To put it mildly, Coruscant is in shock.
— Their usual response to imminent threats, — Iella sighed. — Fast-forward to the next part of his speech.
— So you've got nothing to say about this monologue?
— I'd bet my paycheck he didn't mention the data center in the Imperial Palace's underlevels for nothing, — Iella said after a moment's thought. — First, its existence is classified information.
— Not for grand admirals, — Wedge clarified.
— Fair point, — the Corellian woman nodded. — Second, I think it's a hint that he was behind the data wipe. He won't say it outright, but... Wedge, this guy might be the biggest threat to the New Republic since Zsinj! He knows so much and spins it in a way that, honestly, even I'm starting to feel disgust for our leadership. Working with smugglers? Seriously?
— Well... — Wedge hesitated. — We still don't have enough transport starships, so we take what we can get from whoever has them... You know smugglers aren't the worst people, right? We used their help on Thyferra.
— Back then, we were outlaws ourselves, — Iella pointed out. — But now, when the official government collaborates with criminals... whom they're also hunting...
— If I say, "It's different!" will you believe me? — Wedge asked.
— Nope, — Iella assured him.
— Then I didn't say anything, — the New Republic's youngest general reactivated the holo, fast-forwarding to the desired timestamp.
— You may wonder why Fey'lya and the New Republic attacked the Hegemony, believing it responsible for the Empire's attacks on New Republic military targets, which I orchestrated, — no guilt was visible in the grand admiral's eyes; his face was open. And that alone made you want to stop looking into those burning eyes. — I've already addressed this—Fey'lya, and possibly the New Republic, deliberately used Corellian Senator Garm Bel Iblis' operatives to strike Imperial targets. Retaliation in such cases is inevitable, so the deaths of their personnel and destruction of military assets are solely the fault of the New Republic's councilors who employed Bel Iblis' bandits against the Empire...
— We can skip the senator's confession too, — Iella said reservedly.
— Fey'lya really screwed us with his improvisation, — Wedge sighed, complying with her request.
— Borleias has already condemned his actions, — Iella said. — They thought he was requisitioning ships on Mon Mothma's orders. Hilariously, in exchange for their twenty Acclamators, the Bothans expect compensation from the New Republic—preferably modern warships.
— Yeah, — Wedge sighed. — Give a Bothan a finger, and before you know it, they're gnawing on your skeleton.
— No kidding, — Iella agreed. — But they've got nerve. I'm certain the Bothan sector knew full well Fey'lya was acting on his own.
— Good luck proving that, — Iella declared. — But something else worries me, Wedge.
— Bel Iblis? — Antilles asked.
— Exactly, — the agent confirmed. — I don't doubt his story about surviving an assassination attempt or his conflict with Mon Mothma and leaving the Alliance is true. What alarms me most is that Thrawn managed to break Bel Iblis. I've read about him—he's a man of durasteel will. And to just break him, make him talk...
— Don't forget, Isard's there too, — Wedge sighed, watching Iella's face grow drawn. The Iceheart had taken her husband, turning him into her agent. — I bet she's the one working on the prisoners to loosen their tongues.
— Fey'lya's aide didn't even need threats, — Iella said. — He sings like a bird—coward through and through.
— Probably, — Wedge said. — I don't have much experience with Bothans. The crazy ones, at least.
— Still no word on Rogue Squadron? — Iella asked.
— No, — Wedge's smile vanished instantly. — Command doesn't want to list them as missing in action; it'd crush morale. So they're "continuing their mission behind enemy lines." Meanwhile, I have to walk around with a fake smile, pretending everything's fine, when my nerves are stretched like drum strings—I don't know what to do with myself worrying about them.
— It'll be okay, — Iella moved closer, squeezing his hand. — I believe the guys are fine too.
— Thanks, — Wedge said. He felt his face flush from the proximity of the woman he liked, so he shifted focus to the video.
— Under the current circumstances, with nearly half a million New Republic prisoners in my custody, I proposed an exchange to their Provisional Government, — Thrawn continued. — Hand over the Imperial subjects and military personnel held in New Republic prisons. Given that the New Republic, in its typical duplicitous manner, grants amnesties for alleged crimes to captured Imperials and then integrates them into its forces, it's clear that my exchange pool and the Republic's are incomparable. I received no response from Councilor Mon Mothma on this proposal. Nor did I get a reply to my offer to exchange prisoners for Imperial-standard military equipment, calculated as one piece of equipment per crew member count. Considering the New Republic possesses thousands of captured Imperial warships and tens of thousands of military assets, this shouldn't have been an issue. But it was silently ignored. Then I proposed exchanging all my prisoners for the Executor-class Star Dreadnought Lusankya, which belonged to Imperial Intelligence Director Ysanne Isard and was long portrayed by the New Republic as a secret prison where inhumane tortures were conducted. Yet, the Coruscant government prefers to keep this Star Dreadnought, secretly arming it, again at Councilor Fey'lya's behest. This raises a specific question: Why does the New Republic need such powerful weaponry? Given that the Empire has not initiated military action against the New Republic, this hardly looks respectable. From all this, I can only draw the following conclusions. Employing its trademark duplicity, the New Republic aims to become the galaxy's hegemon and tolerates no competition. It sees the Empire as an irreconcilable enemy, spreading false claims of oppression of all non-human species, which is untrue. In the Ciutric Hegemony and other worlds under my protection, we uphold principles of dignified existence and equal opportunities for all species. Fair labor conditions, commensurate pay, equal rights, and responsibilities. We make no distinctions between species and honor those who work for the betterment of our economy, diplomacy, and defense. The latter is a necessity, given the New Republic's hostile actions toward the Empire. The Coruscant government has no intention of lawfully retrieving its soldiers and sailors from captivity. Very well. Despite our lenient treatment of prisoners, I will not feed them at the expense of Imperial taxpayers. I officially notify the New Republic authorities that, due to their silence on the prisoner exchange, those under my control will be conscripted into mandatory labor to rebuild the cities destroyed and looted by your actions. You caused this—you will rebuild a better future for my citizens. I also inform the galaxy's inhabitants of the following: As Coruscant and the New Republic's Provisional Government continue to bolster their forces and conduct raids against Imperial and allied sector transport routes, my troops are now on permanent combat alert. No act of aggression or attempted aggression will be ignored. My offer of peaceful coexistence, starting with a prisoner exchange, has been disregarded by the New Republic. So be it, — Thrawn gave a seemingly sorrowful sigh. — The conflict will continue. Against the New Republic and the criminals acting against Imperial laws. We will not tolerate this—and I call on all those who care about the galaxy's future and the conditions their children will live in to join us. We did not start this, but we will end it.
Iella stopped the recording.
— I don't know who this guy's strategist is, but they're earning their credits, — she said. — It took me two minutes to realize how skillfully he manipulates perspectives.
— That's his style, according to Ackbar, — Antilles admitted. — He has a vast information network, likely supplied and updated by Isard. He uses it to pit allies and enemies against each other, set traps, and lead us astray.
— I recall the briefing mentioning he's no slouch in battle either, — Iella noted.
— That's an understatement, — Wedge admitted. — Han's no rookie; he defeated Zsinj, who had the Iron Fist—a sister ship to the Executor. But Thrawn outplayed and destroyed his fleet with such ease it was like child's play. Ackbar's been glued to the analytics department, trying to figure out Thrawn's battlefield tactics. From what we can tell, he's highly inventive in neutralizing enemies. The only thing we know is he doesn't shy away from using others' tactical innovations, refining them to a point where they're hard to recognize. That, at the very least, doesn't sit well with our staff. No one wants to tangle with him and get a bloody nose.
— But we have to, don't we? — Iella clarified.
— Yes, — Wedge chewed his lower lip. — Ackbar and Mon Mothma have already listed him among the New Republic's most dangerous enemies.
— What number? — the intelligence officer asked.
— He's at the top, — Wedge admitted. — As Admiral Drayson put it: "First among firsts and more dangerous than all others combined."
— And he'll get even more dangerous, — Iella said.
— If even one former Imperial answers his call and defects from the New Republic's fleet, it could trigger a mass exodus to Thrawn's banner, — Wedge acknowledged. — He's cleverly exploiting the prisoner situation. I don't know why Mon Mothma's hesitating, but if our people learn that their government doesn't care about them in captivity, it'll break them completely. Then I won't be surprised if former Imperials start flocking to Thrawn.
— I doubt he needs defectors that badly, — Iella said. — He's the Supreme Commander of the Imperial forces. He can request a mobilization from the government, and millions of sentients will rally to him.
— We're hoping the political fragmentation of the Imperial Remnants will hinder centralized recruitment, — Wedge admitted. — After all, Grand Moff Ardus Kaine has always opposed military action. Imperial Space and the smaller Remnants don't play a big role in these matters.
— But he now has the pro-Imperial Ciutric Hegemony, — Iella pointed out. — Ciutric IV alone has eleven billion sentients. And there are a dozen such systems...
— That's exactly what I'm afraid of, — Wedge didn't hide. — He's captured an entire fleet. He's probably already working to put it into service. For sector defense, our smaller ships will suffice, but the Star Destroyers... I suspect they'll be the backbone of his future campaign against the New Republic. And it won't be pleasant when he moves against us.
— That's why Ackbar ordered the Lusankya rushed into service? — Iella asked.
— Yep, — Wedge nodded. — I'm not thrilled about it, but after losing the Fourth Fleet, we're practically defenseless in the galaxy's east. Sure, half the line and light forces were preserved since they were on a search operation in the Ghost Nebula, but they've been recalled. Re-armament has started—we urgently need to restore logistics and arm the remaining ships to cover all directions Thrawn might strike.
— Think it'll help? — Iella asked quietly.
— I don't think so, — Wedge admitted. — It's just to calm the public. If everything that's happened these past months is Thrawn's doing, we're in bad shape.
— As always, — Iella tried to joke, but Wedge stayed silent, restarting the recording.
— Sadly, cruelty often begets cruelty, — Thrawn continued. This was the final part of his galaxy-wide address. — The New Republic, which in its infancy craved freedom for all, has grown into a monster that denies freedom to those who disagree with it, just as the Empire did under unprincipled sentients. For the New Republic, "neutrality" doesn't exist. It gives no one a chance to pursue their own path to freedom. We survived a devastating civil war, and its memory is fresh. Now, the New Republic uses all its resources not to help those yearning to stop the bloodshed and end the senseless slaughter. Tales of "Death Stars," invasions of independent states under fabricated pretexts, arming its fleet, and ties with smugglers and other criminals—all are evidence of the New Republic's duplicity...
The holocamera zoomed in.
— The New Republic's tyranny is still in its infancy, — Thrawn warned. — Rise now, and we will spare the blood of many. The people under my protection will fight for their freedom! We call on all who yearn for liberty to join us! Stand with us so that the sacrifices made to overthrow the Empire were not in vain!
The image slowly faded. Wedge felt icy chills running down his spine.
— Listening to Thrawn, you'd think we're marching under the Emperor's banners, embodying pure evil, — Antilles said grimly.
Iella pulled the blanket tighter around herself:
— We did act as aggressors against the Ciutric Hegemony, — she said. — And Thrawn's using it against us.
— We've all been thoroughly fooled, — Wedge had to admit. — That's why Thrawn's considered the New Republic's most dangerous enemy.
— So what do we do? — Iella asked.
— Ackbar's preparing to unleash the Lusankya and the Third Fleet once she's ready, — Wedge admitted reluctantly, covering an embarrassingly loud yawn—exhaustion was taking its toll. — They've pulled her out of the reserves where she's been sitting. She's being rearmed to replace the Crimson Dawn. Whether it works or not, we'll find out soon.
— Let's hope it's not too late, — Iella said doubtfully. — He's basically called for everyone to join him against the New Republic. Not just Imperials—former or active. Pirates, who don't care who they rob or how, could get privateer patents and become auxiliary forces instead of bandits. Honestly, this sentient is a type of enemy we've never faced before. And you know, I don't want to...
She trailed off, realizing that instead of Wedge's usual quips, she heard only soft snoring.
Turning from the holoprojector, she looked at the New Republic's youngest general, who was dozing, his head resting on a pillow, sleeping peacefully under a blanket up to his chin.
The exhaustion of recent days had won.
Iella quietly slipped out from under her blanket. Approaching the sleeping Antilles, she tucked him in tighter—after all, it was chilly on a ship under repair with intermittently failing heating.
Touching the young general's chin, she felt him shiver slightly but not wake.
Iella stifled a yawn, feeling her own body demanding sleep and rest. Here and now.
Smiling, she brushed Wedge's unruly hair and considered heading to her own quarters to lie down.
But that would mean crossing half the ship...
After a few moments of thought, she carefully, so as not to wake him, nudged him closer to the couch's backrest and slipped under the blanket, covering them both with hers.
Wiggling into a comfortable spot, she gazed at Antilles' serene face.
Even through his flight suit and her uniform, Iella could feel Wedge's warm body. She firmly told herself this wasn't due to any silly notions but simply because sleeping close together was warmer.
It was cold on the ship!
Still...
Biting her lip, the Republic agent gave her close friend a quick kiss, which brought his signature happy smile to his face. It warmed her heart, so comforting...
As she drifted off, she felt Wedge's arm fall across her, possessively pulling her close. His warm breath tickled her neck.
Her last thought before slipping into sleep was a memo from her CorSec days.
X-wing pilot flight suits don't let in cold or heat.
But admitting to herself that she felt warmer in this man's arms than alone? The Corellian woman wasn't ready for that.
At least not until he made the same admission.
***
When the double doors, behind which Leia knew the officers' mess of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer lay, slid open, an image from the past flashed before her eyes.
The escape from Echo Base on Hoth.
Bespin.
Cloud City.
Lando leading them to a dining room with a similar oval table, at the head of which sat...
The Supreme Commander of the Galactic Empire's armed forces.
She cast a cautious glance at Calrissian beside her.
He pursed his lips and looked back.
— Yeah, I've got Bespin flashbacks too, — he said with a hint of guilt. — But this time, I'm completely innocent.
— Oh, trouble, — C-3PO uttered his catchphrase, standing behind them.
— Princess Organa Solo, General Calrissian, Chewbacca, — the sentient at the head of the table, clad in a pristine white grand admiral's uniform, rose and gestured to the empty chairs on either side of him. — Please, take a seat.
— What about "ladies first"? — Leia asked pointedly as Lando slipped inside first. Calrissian headed for the chairs but paused, noticing the grand admiral approach the first chair to his right and courteously pull it out for the only lady in their company.
Leia, trying not to show her discomfort, walked to the designated seat and sat silently. With a firm motion, the grand admiral pushed the chair closer to the table. Lando and Chewbacca settled to her right. C-3PO remained by the doors.
Flanked by a pair of Imperial Guards stationed on either side of the exit.
As the lead Imperial took his seat, the doors opened again, admitting a gray-haired man in an Imperial Navy uniform. The captain's insignia indicated he was the commander of the Star Destroyer they were aboard.
— Everything in order? — the blue-skinned sentient with blazing red eyes asked, sizing up the Imperial who sat to his right. Leia shook her head and only now noticed a dark gray shadow slip from behind the destroyer's commander and take a position behind the grand admiral's chair, next to a decorative cage holding a small lizard-like creature. Both beings were of species unknown to her. Even stranger, considering they were aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer.
— Yes, sir, — the arriving Imperial replied, arranging a pristine napkin on his lap. Apparently, he'd be joining the "dinner party" too. Interesting—did he have a choice, or was he "invited" like them? — He'll join us after he's searched.
— Very well, Captain Pellaeon, — the grand admiral said. His fiery gaze turned to Leia. — I believe it's time for introductions.
— That'd be nice, — Lando remarked.
The Imperial didn't bat an eye.
— My name is Thrawn, — the grand admiral introduced himself. — You may have heard of me.
— In passing, — Lando said.
— This, — he gestured to the gray-haired human officer beside him, — is Captain Pellaeon, commander of the Star Destroyer Chimaera, aboard which we are currently situated.
— Pleased to meet you, — the princess said, carefully observing diplomatic courtesies.
Lando muttered something unintelligible, busying himself with serving exquisite dishes onto plates. Chewbacca remained silent.
— We're already indirectly acquainted, — the Imperial shocked her with his response.
— I don't recall ever meeting you, — Leia said, startled.
— Killik Twilight, — the Imperial added to her confusion. — A year ago, you and I were after the same painting.
— That was you! — the princess exclaimed. She remembered those red eyes, staring through clouds of steam. Just a year ago... First those red eyes, then fleeing from three Star Destroyers, one of which was...
The Chimaera.
It all added up.
The grand admiral had been acting against them long before they realized it. And the New Republic had no clue...
— Indeed, — Thrawn said calmly. — Now we have the chance to meet in person.
"I could go a lifetime without seeing you," Leia thought.
A year ago, they'd hunted the Alderaanian painting Killik Twilight, which hid a Rebel code. Leia managed to extract the data, but the painting fell into Imperial hands...
And later turned up in the apartment of an influential Mon Calamari. Given the virtuosity with which the Imperial Supreme Commander manipulated his enemies...
No surprise there.
— So it was you who framed Admiral Ackbar! — the young woman made a not-entirely-false deduction.
— You're perceptive, — Grand Admiral Thrawn smirked, pouring caf into a pristine white mug. Leia eyed the process suspiciously. A grand admiral was a figure with access to the Empire's highest echelons, where a "commoner" drink like caf was scorned. "It's for peasants," Imperial Palace dignitaries would say. Surely an Imperial grand admiral knew this. Or had Imperial tastes changed? — But surely you're wondering why I've gathered you all here?
— To reveal your villainous plan in excruciating detail? — Lando snorted, unenthusiastically chewing a salad leaf.
— Without a doubt, — the grand admiral continued with clear amusement. — In light of recent events, you're returning home to the New Republic. Today.
— Oh, that's wonderful! — C-3PO clapped his hands. — Oh, trouble, if you only knew what I've been through...
With one swift motion, the nearest Imperial Guard flipped a switch, and the protocol droid became a high-tech statue.
— I approve, — Lando said. — That guy can get on anyone's nerves.
Chewbacca sized up the faceless figures in black-and-red armor. Their visors didn't move, but Leia knew well what these fighters were capable of. Were they Palpatine's personal guard or the "rejects" he eagerly gifted to his favorites, like Ysanne Isard?
Not that it mattered.
They were all deadly.
— What happened to make you capture us and now decide to release us? — Leia asked.
— Frankly, you weren't particularly necessary, Princess, — the grand admiral said, leaning back comfortably in his chair. Meanwhile, Captain Pellaeon actively wielded his utensils, starting on a second course. Apparently, he was the only one hungry; the others could barely swallow. — I was retrieving Imperial property and used your deal with Talon Karrde. So, I must thank you for providing a perfectly refurbished starship and one-and-a-half billion in cash. Rest assured, they're serving a noble cause.
— You slaughtered the crew, — Lando noted grimly, staring at the ice cubes in his drink.
— Such are the realities of war, — Thrawn said calmly. — Especially since Captain Shohashi doesn't tolerate foolish resistance. So, you're to blame for your subordinates' deaths, General Calrissian.
Lando darkened.
— You didn't answer my question, — Leia gently reminded, looking at the Imperial. Interesting, what species was he? And that gray-skinned one behind him...
— It's simple, Princess, — the grand admiral said. — The New Republic showed its predatory nature by attacking the Ciutric Hegemony under fabricated pretexts. Though, I assume you're somewhat aware of what happened. The rest you'll learn from your colleagues in the Provisional Government.
— Certainly, — Organa Solo pursed her lips. — But that doesn't explain why you held us here and now...
The mess hall doors opened, admitting...
— Luke!? — Lando gasped. Chewbacca let out a joyful roar. Leia could only blink, watching her brother pause in the doorway, assess the situation, and head to the table...
And sit to the left of Captain Pellaeon.
This immediately caused Lando's face to stretch in shock and Chewbacca's roar to cut off.
Only Leia understood what was happening.
Their "hospitable" host hadn't left just seven chairs in the mess hall—one for himself and three on each side—by accident. A psychological ploy to shock them and make them suspect her brother as a potential defector. But Luke, in his simple farmboy way, saw no free seats near his friends and sat where there was space.
Luke, meeting his friends' eyes, faltered under Chewbacca's suspicious gaze. Lando, though slower, also figured it out.
But the moment was ruined. The smile on her brother's face, clearly thrilled by the reunion, faded. Like a scolded schoolboy, he pursed his lips, hunched over, and stared at the table in his orange flight suit.
— Well, now everyone's here, — Grand Admiral Thrawn said. — Jedi Skywalker, was your mission successful?
"Mission?" Leia thought, stunned. "Since when does Luke do anything for Imperials?"
— Yes, — the Jedi said reluctantly, pulling a silver medallion from his pocket. Leia was about to ask what it was when the gray-skinned humanoid, suddenly beside Luke, brusquely took the item and swiftly returned to the grand admiral. Handing the trinket to Thrawn, the unknown figure, clearly a bodyguard, resumed his position. Leia noticed the figure casting glances at her and Luke—faint interest, disdain, and... indifference? Strange...
— Thank you, — Thrawn said, slipping the medallion into his breast pocket. — As I said, you may take your friends—all in this room. But would you be so kind as to answer my question?
— Which one? — Luke asked.
— Did you or Horn kill K'baoth? — Leia began to lose track of events. What was going on?
— Horn did what he thought was right, — the young Jedi said dully. — I intended to help K'baoth.
— Ah, those unresolved gestalts, — Thrawn said with a smile. — Well, I expected no less from you, Jedi Skywalker. But my warning remains the same as before—don't meddle with matters you don't understand. It will lead you far from your intended path. There are lines you must not cross to avoid dire consequences.
— May I ask what this is about? — Leia said, her eyes fixed on Captain Pellaeon across from her. Why was he here? He asked no questions, didn't participate in the conversation.
Then a wild guess hit her.
In her youth, her father—at least the man she considered her father for most of her life—Bail Organa, often took her to committee meetings, ministries, receptions... To observe and learn.
From everything she saw.
Was Thrawn showcasing his potential successor?
— Of course, — the grand admiral replied. — I trust everyone here recalls the Imperial attack on the Dufilvian sector?
— Hard to forget, — Leia said, darkening. — The Imperials killed tens of thousands of civilians...
— And effectively destroyed your sector fleet and its bases, — the grand admiral offered his perspective. — It was retaliation for Commander Garm Bel Iblis' attack on Imperial targets.
— Bel Iblis... is alive? — Leia said, surprised. She knew the Corellian senator who helped found the Alliance, though not well. She understood he wouldn't give up after breaking with the Alliance. No, he'd wage his own war. It was assumed he'd perished in its chaos.
— Very much alive, — Thrawn confirmed. — He's in my custody. After starting his own war against the Empire, he allied with the Bothans and Councilor Fey'lya. Who, by the way, is also in my custody.
— Is Mon Mothma still free? — Lando joked darkly.
— For now, — Thrawn said coldly. — Fey'lya orchestrated the attack on the Ciutric Hegemony. For that, he was defeated, captured, and disgraced. Though that's the least of the charges a military tribunal will bring against him. Fey'lya, relying on Bothan intelligence, supplied Bel Iblis with everything needed to strike Imperial targets. I struck the Dufilvian sector, where Bel Iblis' base was located, believing his actions were part of the New Republic's strategy. Unfortunately, the commander didn't see fit to inform me of his plans or chain of command. So, the casualties in the Dufilvian sector were an accident—made possible only by the actions of the Bothans and Bel Iblis. But that's not the point...
— So thousands of deaths aren't worth discussing? — the princess frowned.
— Just as the hundreds of thousands of Republic prisoners in my custody aren't, — Thrawn shrugged. — Your government refused to retrieve them, so their fate will be decided by a military tribunal.
— Mass executions? — Calrissian asked.
— Labor colonies, — the grand admiral clarified. — We're not animals, after all. Back to the topic. The attack on the Dufilvian sector was executed flawlessly thanks to the participation of a clone of Jedi Master Jorus C'baoth. He called himself a Jedi Master, but he wasn't shy about claiming titles. Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker relieved me of the headache that was this mad clone.
— I doubt you could just "hire" a Jedi for a "wet job" on one of your own, — Lando remarked.
— Joruus C'baoth, — Leia noted the grand admiral's different pronunciation of the clone's name. Apparently, Jorus was the original, while Joruus was the clone.
— Without a doubt, Joruus C'baoth was a valuable asset and useful tool, — Thrawn said. — However, Palpatine's cloning of him was flawed, leading to emotional instability. He became a danger to my subordinates, so I first enlisted Corran Horn to deal with him. But the Rogue Squadron pilot was somewhat... lacking until a certain point. So I sent your brother, — he fixed his blazing gaze on Leia. — And after Corran Horn saw the danger the mad Jedi clone posed firsthand, unlike your brother, he made the only correct decision—beheading the clone.
— I didn't share those details with you, — Luke suddenly said. — How did you...
— Did you really think I'd deploy a mad Jedi to a remote planet without objective monitoring? — Thrawn asked. — Honestly, Jedi Skywalker, don't disappoint me with judgments that underestimate your opponent and expose your vulnerabilities. One day, that will cost you dearly.
— As I recall, — Leia quickly redirected the conversation, — cloning a Jedi is impossible. My father told me that...
— I doubt Darth Vader discussed such matters with you during interrogations on the Death Star, — Grand Admiral Thrawn remarked. — But if you mean Bail Organa, your adoptive father, then yes, that sentient was closely tied to the Jedi, so he might have shared such information.
— You're well-informed about the personal lives of those present, — Lando interjected.
— There's never too much information, Mr. Calrissian, — the grand admiral countered. — As a gambler and entrepreneur, you should understand that.
— Thanks to you, I no longer have any enterprises, — Lando noted.
— Such are the horrors of war, — the grand admiral replied simply. — Had you sold ore to us, your Nomad City would still be intact, and you wouldn't have had to sell it for scrap.
— After what you did to it, that's all it was worth, — Lando said grimly.
— Nothing to be done, — Thrawn shrugged. — But I believe, Jedi Skywalker, you're eager to hear the story I promised for fulfilling my request and delivering Joruus C'baoth's medallion.
— I'd like to hear it, — Luke said, meeting Leia's eyes and explaining:
— We might have a chance to learn our mother's identity.
— What? — Leia was stunned. — How... How is that even possible?
— Thanks to me, — Thrawn said without false modesty.
Looking at the Imperial, the young woman couldn't resist sarcasm:
— Forgive me, but you're not the most reliable source.
— As it happens, I'm not the information's carrier, — what was going on? Could this sentient speak less cryptically? — Jedi Skywalker, what do you know about your astromech, R2-D2?
— A standard astrodroid, — Luke blinked. — Previously served on an Alderaanian fleet ship...
— I can confirm that, — Leia said.
— Very well, — Thrawn continued. — Allow me to lift the veil of mystery. Before C-3PO and R2-D2 served your father, Bail Organa, the astromech was in the Naboo royal house, later gifted by Senator Padmé Amidala Naberrie of the Chommell sector to a young Jedi Order padawan, Anakin Skywalker, — at this, both siblings' faces froze in profound shock. — The fate of your protocol droid is no less intriguing. C-3PO was built by a young slave boy on Tatooine forty-one or forty-two years before these events. Thirty-two years ago, its creator gave the droid and a braid of his hair to his wife as a symbol of the only thing he owned. The droid exchange was their wedding gifts to each other. The slave boy from Tatooine was named Anakin Skywalker. That's why he never returned to his home planet for decades—it held no fond memories for him.
Lando seemed to choke on something, as Chewbacca's massive paw had to slap his back.
Captain Pellaeon stopped eating, listening intently to everything said in the mess hall.
— Wait, — Luke said. — You're saying...
— That's impossible, — Leia frowned. — I was told I resembled her, but...
— The late Padmé Amidala Naberrie-Skywalker was your mother, — Thrawn said calmly.
— Naboo? — Leia blinked. — Our mother was the Queen of Naboo?!
— If you're thinking of claiming Naboo's throne or the title of Naboo princess, allow me to remind you that Naboo has an elective monarchy, not a hereditary one, — Thrawn said, sipping his caf.
— It's a good story, no doubt, — Lando admitted. — I nearly shed a tear. But why should we trust you?
— You don't have to, — Thrawn shrugged. — I don't care.
— Then we can't verify your claims, — Leia said.
— You could tell us any nonsense for your own purposes, — Lando said heatedly.
— In that case, — Thrawn smiled, looking first at Luke, then Leia, — you should consult the archives on the Polis Massa asteroid, where you were born. I think you'll also find it interesting that your mother died in childbirth there. Unfortunately, all three witnesses to your birth—Bail Organa, Jedi Masters Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Yoda—are dead.
Leia noticed Chewbacca glance oddly at Thrawn, then at Luke...
— Any data can be forged, — Lando declared.
— I agree, especially since you're an expert in that field, — Thrawn said. — But I believe it can be easily verified objectively.
— How? — Leia asked impatiently.
— Genetic testing, — the grand admiral said. — Your mother has living relatives who might agree to a blood analysis. Or you could approach Senator Quarsh Panaka, who, to my knowledge, is retired but previously governed the Chommell sector. If I recall correctly, you met him about four years ago, didn't you, Princess Organa Solo?
— Yes, — Leia replied emotionlessly, recalling how, five years after the Alliance's victory at the Battle of Yavin IV, Moff Panaka visited Hosk Station. Leia, aiming to avoid conflict between her forces and those of the Chommell sector, tried to persuade the moff to join the then-Rebel Alliance, invoking memories of the late Queen Amidala, whom Panaka once served. Panaka saw no legitimacy in the restored Republic and was unmoved by memories of the dead queen. He pointed out that Amidala had endangered Naboo and did little to restore its defenses after the Trade Federation's invasion. The meeting ended when Organa mentioned that some Alliance members considered seizing Naboo, though the threat didn't faze Panaka. Later, the sector joined the New Republic, and the moff was removed from his post. As he had no major crimes, he was allowed to live out his days on Naboo.
— I think if you tell him that, as Captain Panaka after the First Battle of Geonosis, he informed then-Supreme Chancellor Palpatine of the alliance between Senator Padmé Amidala Naberrie and padawan Anakin Skywalker, which Palpatine used to lure your father to the so-called Dark Side of the Force, the former moff might be more cooperative, — Thrawn suggested. — At the very least, you can tell him that if he doesn't share the truth, I'll send my people to ask pointed questions about why he hasn't returned to active Imperial service.
— What a mess, — Leia shook her head. — Why... Why are you telling us this now?
— Because this way, I can help the Alderaanians, — Thrawn said simply. — Prince-Admiral Krennel wanted to allocate a planet or continent for them to live as a community. You, Princess Organa Solo, could become the new Queen of Naboo and resettle your people in the Chommell sector, so they no longer live like galactic Jawas, wandering from planet to planet.
— And what's in it for you? — Lando frowned. — What's the Empire's gain in this?
— As promised, — Thrawn said, — like a holofilm villain, I'll reveal my plan.
— Maybe don't? — Leia asked.
— Trust me, — the grand admiral smiled, — you'll thank me for telling you this early. I told your husband, but no one believed him. I told your brother, but he hasn't fully accepted the inevitable. Now I'm telling you, Princess Organa Solo. They say younger siblings are more perceptive.
— Younger? — Leia tensed.
— Yes, — Thrawn confirmed. — Luke Skywalker was born before you, so technically, he's older, Princess. Accept my sincere apologies for settling your long-standing sibling rivalry.
— This is surreal, — Lando shook his head. — An Imperial grand admiral solving one family's problems in the galaxy... I wonder if Palpatine's spinning in his grave?
— No, — Thrawn replied calmly. — In fact, I'll tell you, General, the afterlife doesn't interest him. But immortality...
— I don't follow, — Lando tensed.
Leia felt her twins stir. It felt... uneasy...
— You're not saying... — she whispered, feeling a tightening inside.
— Emperor Palpatine is alive, — Luke said suddenly, locking eyes with Grand Admiral Thrawn. — I believe you. I...
The princess felt something was very wrong with her...
— Is that water dripping? — the Chimaera's commander tensed. — What the kriff? I'll have the techs scrubbing decks...
— Calm, Captain, — Grand Admiral Thrawn said, leaning slightly toward Leia. — Contact the medical bay. And the children's hospital in Daplona. We'll need top specialists. The best of the best.
— Leia, — Lando rushed to her side. — What's happening? Are you okay?
— Y-yes, — the princess stammered, feeling her dress's lower half grow wet. — It's just... my water broke... Lando, — gripped by sudden panic, she clutched Calrissian's arm. — I'M GIVING BIRTH!!!
In the deathly silence that fell over the mess hall, Grand Admiral Thrawn's calm voice rang out:
— The Force is my witness, I didn't intend this, but... Princess Organa Solo, I'll have to grant your children Imperial citizenship by virtue of their birth on Imperial territory...
Leia might have wanted to protest, but the onset of contractions changed her mind...