"So let me get this straight," she says. "You want me to hit you in the face?"

"I want you to try." Thrawn nods, as if acknowledging that she might succeed. Or perhaps that's just what he does when he's trying not to smile.

"Okay," she weighs him up, flicking back her lekku, dancing a little closer. She's better in an X-wing, but she's still good at this.

And she can be very serious when she needs to be. She does't smile at times like this.

Thrawn steps back. He's changed out of his white Grand Admiral's uniform, into a black jumpsuit of some sort - almost plain, but cut to emphasise his trim physique, and with flashes of angular red design that seem to pattern outwards from the asymmetric seams.

He's changed his body-language, too. There's still something disconcertingly upright in his poise, but less of the stand-offish martinet she's used to hating. More of a fighter. More like her.

"I like this version of you better," she remarks.

"I aim to please."

She frowns a bit at that. Is this him adapting his behaviour to what she thinks she will respond to?

"You still haven't convinced me this is the real you," she reminds him. To tell the truth, she's playing him here, just as much as he's playing her. "You might just be trying to bring me over to the Empire's side."

"I don't think the Emperor has much use for Twi'lek X-wing pilots," he suggests, with the clear implication that his own opinions differ.

"I don't have much time for people who're on personal terms with tyrants," she retorts. "Even if they think I'd be a useful... asset."

Another nod. Is he baiting her, trying to get her to overreact?

Never kickbox against a Grand Admiral. That should be a thing.

"Stand still and let me try to hit you," she offers, stepping back a pace, seeing what he does.

Those red eyes flicker. A slight smile, once again.

"You just wanted to watch me move."

"Isn't that how most encounters like this begin?"

She glares. Drops out of her combat stance.

"First, I want answers. Who are you really?" She's treating him like a rookie pilot now, she realises. That thought makes her feel good. In control.

"That's what I'm helping you work out," Thrawn answers, cool. "I'm really not sure how well I can explain myself."

"False modesty, for one thing."

"Your conclusions interest me, Commander."

"For what they say about me? Or what they might tell you about yourself?"

"Both. Among other things. And besides, you are as capable of doing this to me as I am to you."

"Doesn't feel like it," she lies. She's as good as he is at hiding behind her role.

A flicker of his eyes. He read the subterfuge in a twitch of her body language. "Stop doing that."

"I can try." Is that a lie? "But you seem to me to be all too comfortable with your simple narrative of Rebels and Imperials, the virtuous Ryder Azadi against the vile Arihnda Pryce."

She snorts at that, unladlyike. "Azadi's a good leader, but I'd never call him virtuous."

"Governor Pryce had her human side as well. Even if the Empire went a long way to concealing that."

There's almost sadness in his tone now. Hera frowns. She'd have expected him to blame the woman's character flaws on the Rebellion.

"But I will admit." The posture shifts, and he's an Imperial Admiral again. "Playing with people's expectations can sometimes be... amusing."

She makes a noise at that.

And then, with a grin, she tries to hit him.