Not long after, Pellaeon had left, the stormtrooper had been and gone, leaving Thrawve's backpack, minus the history text, on the floor just inside the door. Thrawve heaved a sigh of relief. It was good to be alone again. Of course, that did not mean there would not be hidden cameras recording his every move - the Empire did not place the same importance on individual freedoms that the New Republic did. Thinking about it, if there were no cameras now there probably would be soon. Just checking that their pawn or student did as expected. However, he would pretend no one was watching him; he needed that private space. He just wouldn't do anything to arouse their suspicions in case they were watching.

Thrawve walked around the space he had been given. It was large, with a living room, a bedroom with a large double bed, and a bathroom. The furnishings were very good quality but a little ornate and crowded for his taste. He would miss having proper windows- the holograms that replaced them never looked quite the same. Part of the reason for that was because they were designed to fool humans and so completely ignored the ultraviolet spectrum. Still, they were better than a blank wall. The doorbell rang.

Thrawve went to the door, and opened it. The man outside the door wore a uniform of some sort that Thrawve did not recognise. "Hello sir, I am ordered to measure you for your new uniforms." the man said.

"Uniforms?" asked Thrawve, horrified. Admiral Pellaeon had mentioned clothes, but had said nothing about uniforms. Thrawve had a sudden vision of himself wandering around wearing a Grand Admiral's uniform in size extra extra small. Please no!

"Didn't the Admiral tell you?" The man asked, with a frown on his face. "You can hardly go around looking like this if you are his ward."

"What sort of uniforms?", asked Thrawve. "Officer cadet." The man answered.

"Oh. That's ok then." Thrawve said, feeling much relieved. At least I won't look like a toy.

"Come with me" the man said. Thrawve came.

Gradually, Thrawve settled into his new role. Pellaeon kept his word about not forcing Thrawve to serve the Empire. Not that I would be much use at this point anyway. And on the Chimaera there were no reporters or visible cameras, though there were plenty of curious crewmembers gawking at him, especially at first. One poor technician dropped the equipment he had been carrying on his foot when he spotted Thrawve. Exeunt one formerly valuable piece of equipment, and an embarrassed technician with a sore foot.

At least the lessons were interesting. He'd never really been challenged at school, no matter how often they stuck him in with classes with kids years older than him. Here it was a different matter since he came in knowing very little of military matters. Now he was learning astronavigation and advanced mathematics, history from the Imperial point of view, tactics, weapons and ship technology, self-defense, and strategy. There was also psychology of art, but that was a special case because he had no teacher, just himself and historical monographs and art holos. Thrawve enjoyed himself immensely, except when he remembered what it was all for. He had no desire to fight for the Empire, or really to fight for anyone at all. If only he could just be left alone. But even if he ever escaped and returned to the New Republic, it was unlikely he would ever lead a normal life. Those who had created him had seen to that.