Author's Note: This story contains spoilers for the novel Thrawn by Timothy Zahn (king of SW authors) and is intended to take place between the final chapter and the epilogue. Some liberty has been taken with a few of the details, but hopefully it is not out of character. I believe this is the first piece of fanfiction I have written for Star Wars, despite it being my longest standing fandom.


The stars stretched into starlines and then swirled into the familiar mottled sky of hyperspace. Eli sighed under his breath as he stared out the main viewport. On to their next assignment. At least this meant the visit to Coruscant had gone well. He always felt a low level anxiety whenever they were called back. For all of Thrawn's brilliance, Eli feared the day he might step too far.

Beside him, Thrawn stirred. "Your thoughts, Commander?"

Eli turned his head just enough to catch the glowing red eyes now shifted in his direction. He smirked, shaking his head slightly. Nothing ever got past him. "I guess I just hoped we would have a little more time before heading out again, sir."

Thrawn inclined his head. "I understand. Fortunately, we are not headed straight into battle. You will have time to gather your thoughts."

Eli grimaced. He was not sure there would ever be enough time after that last incident. The memory still haunted his dreams.

"I will be retiring to my quarters in the meantime," Thrawn continued, and Eli turned with him as they moved down the command walkway. A small cluster of officers stood huddled together at the far end, bent over a datapad as they discussed their upcoming mission. Thrawn's steps slowed, triggering a warning sense in Eli. He eyed the group, looking for anything out of place—

One of the officers broke off from the rest and moved nonchalantly along the walkway, striding in their direction as he headed for one of the crew pits. His cap was pulled low over his face, but something about the man's movement made Eli tense.

The man must have noticed their suspicion, for suddenly all pretense was thrown off. "This is for Batonn, Imperial scum!" he yelled, his hand whipping out with a weapon readied for attack. Eli reacted instantly the moment the man had started speaking, not even registering what weapon the man was brandishing. He had been close enough for Eli to launch himself at him before he could fire. The first shot went wild, burning into the ceiling as they tumbled onto the walkway with a loud crash.

"Get off!" the intruder gasped as Eli grappled with him. The man was strong and slippery, and it took all of Eli's efforts just to keep him from refocusing the weapon on anyone. "He's a murderer! He deserves to burn like all those innocents he killed!"

"That wasn't his choice," Eli ground out through gritted teeth. They had rolled several times before he had finally managed to trap the man's hand and blaster between their bodies. He would not be able to get out another shot without injuring himself in the process.

"Sure," the man spat in his face. "Just following orders. I hope that excuse helps you to sleep at night."

The others had now rushed to help, Eli could see in his peripheral vision. The man beneath Eli bucked wildly, trying to throw him off. He was not much younger than Eli himself, and the pain in his eyes struck Eli deeply. He was desperate, and that made him extremely dangerous. Belatedly, Eli understood that the man knew he would not get out of this alive, and if he could not take down the Admiral—now Grand Admiral—himself, then he would take down anyone he could in his last moments. Metal bit into Eli's stomach, followed immediately by fire and excruciating pain.

What happened next was a blur. Hands reached out and pulled him off the other man. Voices barked around him, the air filled with chaotic movement as the attempted assassin was dragged away. Eli was gasping for breath. His body felt like it was burning from the inside out.

So this was how it would end.

"Eli, stay with me," a familiar voice murmured above him. He tried hard to focus on the dark face and glowing eyes bent close to his, but he was having trouble holding back the waves of pain threatening to pull him into darkness. Someone was pulling at his tunic.

"I'm sorry..." he managed, his voice sounding strange in his ears. Sorry for not getting the weapon away from the man. Sorry for jumping before thinking. Sorry for still doubting Thrawn after all this time. Sorry for resenting him in the early days.

Sorry for not being able to hold on any longer.

There was a metallic taste in his mouth. The sounds had all blurred to a dull roar in his ears, and even now it was fading, as was his sight. This was it. He did not regret dying in an effort to save Thrawn from a crazed, grief-stricken man. He just hoped that Thrawn would survive long enough to bring about his vision for the galaxy. He would hate for all of this to be for nothing.

The pain now overwhelmed everything else, and he allowed himself to slip at last into oblivion.


Oblivion did not last quite as long as he thought it would.

Even so, as his consciousness slowly returned, Eli discovered that he could not move. Something covered his mouth, and it hurt to swallow. Everything felt hazy. Most likely he was drugged to mask the pain that had been tearing into him before he passed out. As grateful as he was for the relief, it made it difficult to focus on anything. Just opening his eyes was a struggle, and the best he could manage was to peer blearily through his eyelashes.

He was in the medical bay, but he appeared to be alone. Had he been left for dead? Or had they stabilized him, and some emergency had pulled everyone away? What if there had there been more insurgents on board than the one he took down? His heart labored in his chest as he felt his panic rise, but his body still would not respond.

Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He was not alone. Someone sat beside him, bowed over his knees, head cradled in his hand. A blue hand.

Eli frowned, or tried to. Now that the brief burst of adrenaline was fading, he felt weakness wash over him again. Despite his efforts, he could not keep his eyes open any longer.


The next time he awoke, he had been moved again. He was also feeling considerably better—and by that, he meant no longer foggy with medication. At least, nowhere near as foggy as he had been. His midsection was tender, and any sudden movement would shoot pain through his body to remind him that he was not healed yet. No doubt he was still being given something for the pain, but it was not as strong as whatever he had been under before.

He was alive.

Reaching up, he ran a hand over his face, grateful that whatever had been there before was now gone, and even more grateful that he could move again. There was something terrifying about being completely immobilized.

"You are awake."

Suppressing the urge to jump at the unexpected voice, he turned to see Thrawn sitting beside him as before. "Have you been watching me this whole time?"

The corner of Thrawn's mouth twitched upward. "I have a ship to run, Commander. I cannot stand vigil at the bedside of every wounded officer."

Eli's eyebrows shot up sardonically. "Right."

"Even so," Thrawn said, straightening as his voice grew serious, "thank you. Your quick action saved lives."

Including yours. "Yeah, well, I didn't think I was getting out of that one," Eli said, wincing as he attempted to sit up. "I don't even know how I'm still here."

"You have Commander Faro to thank for that," Thrawn told him, his bright eyes watching Eli's movement cautiously. "Due to her quick response, we were able to give you the medical attention you required immediately. Otherwise," there was a brief pause, "you would not be here now." He bowed his head slightly, and Eli wished desperately that he could read the other's expression better. Had Thrawn been worried about him?

"I will be sure to express my gratitude to her when I next see her." Closing his eyes, Eli took a deep breath as the memory of the nearly fatal shot caused his entire body to tense.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Eli murmured, opening his eyes and focusing on Thrawn again. "What happened to him?"

"The man who shot you has been detained," Thrawn replied, his voice oddly tight. "He will be facing trial for his attempted murder." A dangerous look flashed in his eyes. "There is also at the moment an intensive investigation into how he boarded this ship."

Eli nodded. To be honest, he was surprised the man was still alive, but he did not envy him his future—nor that of those whose carelessness allowed this to happen in the first place. He also found that he could not be entirely angry with him. If Eli had lost friends or family in a firestorm such as what had happened at Creekpath, he could not guarantee what he might do in retaliation, regardless of the consequences.

"On the bridge," Thrawn said, interrupting his thoughts, "You said, 'I'm sorry.'" He tilted his head curiously. "What were you sorry for?"

"Did I?" Eli asked, frowning. "I don't remember."

Thrawn sat back, gazing silently at Eli before replying, "It is no matter. I merely wondered."

They both fell into silence. The pain in his attacker's eyes and the horrors of Eli's own nightmares would not leave him. Thoughts that had only been half-formed before now came back to his mind, twisting inside him like a maelstrom of emotion. Thrawn was watching him, he knew, and reluctantly he met the other's eyes.

"Your thoughts, Commander?"

Eli gritted his teeth, his hands clenching at his sides. "I don't like what happened at Batonn, sir," he admitted.

Thrawn nodded. "I know."

"I know there are going to be casualties in war," he continued, lifting his hand and waving it to emphasize his point, "and I know that sometimes things happen beyond our control. I know it's ridiculous to expect everyone to share your values, but..." He sighed. "Where do you draw the line?" His hand dropped weakly to his side.

"That is a question every warrior must face and answer for himself," Thrawn replied quietly. "But perhaps here I can help you." He leaned over to pick up something from the side table beside Eli's bed. Eli turned his head to look. It was a datapad and...a book? He hadn't seen one of those since he left home.

"I know you have been curious about my interaction with Nightswan the night of the attack," Thrawn said, laying the two items in his lap and folding his hands over them as he spoke. "I do not know what Colonel Yularen has told you, but I was offering him a position among the Chiss Ascendency."

Eli frowned. "I—I don't understand."

"I know that Nightswan was our adversary," Thrawn said, tipping his head in acknowledgement. "But he had certain skills that I value and that I believe would be a great asset to my people in our fight to protect the galaxy against evils far greater than what we face here."

"And he turned you down?"

"His loyalty to those who depended on him was commendable," Thrawn said. "I cannot fault him that."

"No," Eli agreed reluctantly. Now that he thought about it, he could see some similarities between the two. They did seem to understand each other pretty well. "And he respected you as well, which is why you were able to return to the Chimaera unharmed."

Thrawn nodded.

"What would you have done with his people had he agreed to your offer?" Eli asked. He had a feeling he could guess at this point, but he wanted to make sure.

"I told him that if they would lay down their weapons and leave, they would be allowed to go free."

Eli snorted. "Did Colonel Yularen share your generosity?"

"My task was to deal with the uprising on Batonn," Thrawn said, his eyes narrowing. "I do not see how the method of dismantling it should matter."

Shaking his head, Eli smiled. "No, you wouldn't." His smile faded. "Do you think you would have been able to stop the massacre had he left with you?"

"I do not know." Thrawn's voice was low and quiet. "Probably not."

Eli dropped his gaze, his heart again in his stomach.

"But Nightswan is not the only one whose talents may be better directed elsewhere."

Eli glanced up to meet his gaze again. Thrawn was looking at him expectantly. "W-wait, what?" Eli straightened, wincing at the pinch of pain that shot along his side. "Do you mean me?"

A small smile touched Thrawn's lips. "Who else?"

"But—I—surely—" he sputtered, his mind reeling. "Do you really think so, sir?"

"Think of how far you have come over the years," Thrawn said. "I recognized your abilities early on, and you have grown into them well. I am proud of what you have become, and I trust you," he bowed his head, "with my life."

Eli's face flushed bright red. He was certain of it. There was no higher praise he could think of than this, and he was certain he did not deserve it. "I don't know what to say," he said at last. "I thought I would be serving with you for the rest of my career."

"Is that what you wish?"

Eli's mouth opened and closed a few times. Honestly, he had grown to be content as Thrawn's aide, as he had already told him before. It was an honor to serve with him, an immense honor to see such a brilliant mind at work.

And yet...

"I want to be where I am needed most." Even if the thought scared him to death.

"The day may come when we will meet and work together again," Thrawn said. "If this is the path you choose." Lifting the book and datapad from his lap, he handed them to Eli. Eli took them gingerly, curiosity burning within him. "You do not need to decide right now. You will most likely have at least six more weeks before you will start to feel normal again. That shot should have killed you, and we depleted much of our medical supplies to keep you alive." There was no blame in his voice, merely a statement of fact. "Even then, the choice and the timing are yours."

"Six more weeks?" Eli repeated incredulously, even as he felt guilt over all the unnecessary effort done on his behalf. He could argue the matter, but that might be better saved for another time. "How long have I been out?"

"It has been nearly a week now since the incident."

Eli fell back against his pillow. "Oh."

Thrawn smiled and rose to his feet. "I am glad you are still with us, Commander," he said. Then he nodded toward the book and datapad. "Those will give you some more information and useful material pertaining to my offer. They may also help the time to pass." He turned to leave.

"Admiral?"

Thrawn turned back, his glowing red gaze settling on Eli again as he raised an eyebrow enquiringly.

"Before I passed out, you said my name. You called me Eli."

"Did I?" Thrawn's eyes glinted with amusement. "I do not remember."

A slow smirk spread across Eli's face. Krayt spit. "Fair enough. I merely wondered."

After Thrawn had left, Eli opened the book. The text inside was handwritten, with sketches and diagrams scattered throughout. He inspected the drawings first, then turned his attention to the letters. The writing was firm and straight, but he had never seen anything like it. He wondered how Thrawn thought this might be of any use to him.

Turning his attention then to the datapad, he was dismayed to find that it was locked with a passcode. He counted the digits required. Did Thrawn expect him to be able to guess? He sat there for several minutes, numerous ideas for what the passcode might be running through his mind. Each one he tried failed. At last, an idea struck him, and he put in the date of their first contact.

The passcode released.

Eli chuckled to himself, pleased that he had solved this first puzzle. What he found on the datapad made his jaw drop. There was a lexicon and dictionary inside, with markings matching those in the book. The language was labeled "Cheunh." Additional lexicons and dictionaries were labeled "Minnisiat" and "Sy Bisti." The datapad's primary language was Sy Bisti. After a brief search, he discovered that Cheunh was the Chiss home language, with Minnisiat as the trade language for their region. Eli felt an overwhelming sense of responsibility fall on him. Thrawn trusted him with this information?

Of course he did. He trusted him with his life.

Was this book, then, Thrawn's own personal journal? He flipped through it again, looking at the pages with new eyes. Excitement stirred deep within him. If Thrawn thought Eli's services would be best put to use elsewhere, then perhaps it was time to move on. Thrawn's insight into such things had yet to be proved wrong.

All the same, the thought was bittersweet. As strange as the Chiss was, Eli had grown fond of him. Not that he would ever admit it aloud.

Still, as Thrawn said, he had some time. He had best make the most of it.