Author's Note:

Btw, I have a very short Thrawn/Parck one-shot up now. Semi-fluff, if you will. Please check it out!

I've left you a couple of YouTube links in this chapter—background music to enjoy while you read. I thought the pieces (from Ghost in the Shell: Solid State Society and Ghost in the Shell: S.A.C. 2nd GIG) very appropriate. Just copy and paste, and eliminate the spaces in the links. Maybe when I'm done with the fic, I'll work out a little playlist for it on my YouTube channel, RingSaberWardrobe.

I'm going to say right now that this story is very much a character-based piece. If you take a look at my track record, you'll see that that's what I tend to write. It's a pretty straightforward what-if, not a masterpiece complex plot. This story is about the characters, mostly Thrawn, Luke, and Mara. More than anything, it's really about how they deal with the situation they're in.

Sometime in the future, I may well come back to this concept with a friend (Mandalore Thrawn, to be precise) and churn out a longer, more complex story. So keep your eyes peeled! You never know when something may pop up…

To my reviewers:

whateveritis12: Honestly, the possibilities of what could be done with a clone of Thrawn are absolutely endless. In VotF, Parck apparently thought that the New Republic might accept him. I myself have been vacillating on whether or not the clone should introduce himself as a clone or as a son. The problem with being a son is that the Empire doesn't really owe a son anything—a son doesn't necessarily share his father's tactical brilliance. Here, in this chapter, the young clone gives Luke and Mara an alternative, one that I hope you'll concede.

Imperial warlord: Thank you. The Yuuzhan Vong won't actually appear, since the window of time in this fic is only a few months at the most—but they do get some heavy mention under the title "Far Outsiders."

d-vader: Thank you! Oh, don't worry, Luke and Mara will still get together. I'm an incorrigible L/M shipper three years running, and this chapter should satisfy my fellow shippers pretty well. ^^

Actually, I disagree about deleting stories. I think that's a worse sin than leaving them unfinished. An acquaintance of mine once took down a series of hers that I'd really enjoyed, and I never saved the entire thing to my hard drive. I still kinda stew over that.

serenity8118: Thank you! Well, three and a half years ago, when I first started writing fanfics, I could not have written Thrawn. No possible way. When I started writing Thrawn fics just recently, I still wasn't sure that I could write him correctly, and that worried me. For now, I seem to be doing well… I have a couple of fics that have the real Thrawn in them—"A Little Cup of Caf" and "All You've Lost, All You've Won." If you could please maybe let me know what you think about the latter, especially… 'cause I haven't gotten any feedback on it whatsoever, so for all I know, it could be terrible, and people aren't telling me. =)

==Chapter Three==

Which Then Turned into a Quiet Word

"Understand in turn that I will continue to protect my people in whatever way I deem necessary."

—Commander Thrawn, Outbound Flight

((http : / / www . youtube . com / watch? v=SP9jXt79joM&fmt=18))

Watching Mara pace, Luke shook his head. "Mara, if you don't let yourself get some rest, you're going to hate yourself later."

"Tough," was the unyielding reply. "I've been through worse. A certain Force-forsaken planet comes to mind."

Myrkr. Luke chuckled. "Right." He pushed himself up out of his chair and grabbed Mara's arm. "Come on, little girl," he wheedled, "it's past your bedtime."

"Little girl don' wanna go to bed," Mara mock-pouted.

Luke laughed—he was winning, after all. "Come on." Miracle of miracles, she let him pull her over to her chair and push her into it. Sinking back into his own chair, he reached out and took her hand.

Mara raised an eyebrow at him. "You're getting reckless, farmboy."

Luke grinned. "I know." His thumb began to stroke the back of her hand.

"Stop that," she murmured, her eyelids fluttering.

His grin softened. "Not if it puts you to sleep," he murmured back.

"Luke…"

He leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Good night, Mara."

"It's morning," she protested, her words slurred as her eyes closed.

They were both out in five.


Thrawn shut off the holo station and sank into a nearby chair, exhausted. He'd spent the better part of an hour explaining his existence to Admiral Pellaeon, and Pellaeon, in turn, had spent even longer in explaining Disra's coup. And then Thrawn had spent yet another hour in explaining such threats as the Vagaari and the Far Outsiders.

That last hour had gone a long way in convincing Pellaeon of Thrawn's identity and purpose. There was none of the semi-casualness that had characterized Thrawn's conversation with Skywalker and Jade or even his meeting with Admiral Parck—instead, the young clone had drawn upon five decades of military bearing and command to speak with the Admiral. He'd laid out the nature of the Vagaari and the Far Outsiders in as much detail as possible, had outlined for Pellaeon comprehensive plans for dealing with those threats—and had stressed his belief in the need for peace and cooperation between the Empire and the New Republic.

"Your 'father's' goal," Pellaeon had sternly told the clone, "was order, stability, and strength borne of unity and common purpose. The only reason I am allowing you into the Empire, Syndic Mitth'raw'nuruodo—" and here, the good Admiral stumbled over the alien name—"is because I believe you share that goal. I see your father's vision in you. If anyone can affect this coalition between enemies of almost four decades, it will be you."

Thrawn had never doubted Parck's trust—Voss and Thrawn had been comrades almost from the start. Pellaeon's, on the other hand… Pellaeon's was harder-earned and all the sweeter-won for it. "Thank you, sir," he found himself repeating. "I won't fail you."

With a little effort exerted on muscles that were not yet strong, per se, Thrawn pushed himself up from his chair and strode out into the corridor beyond. Skywalker and Jade were probably wondering where in the galaxy he was by now, and it certainly would not do to have two anxious Force-sensitives on the loose in the base. Force knew they'd already done enough damage in sending Jade's Fire into the hangar.

Note to self, Thrawn thought wryly,two public hangars after this incident.

When at last he reached his chambers, he found Skywalker and Jade asleep in their chairs, hands entwined. So that's how the star chart lays, he smiled. Stepping back into the corridor beyond, he keyed on his comlink. "Thrawn to Admiral Parck."

"Parck here. Anything wrong?"

"No, sir. I've finished my talk with Admiral Pellaeon, and things look hopeful on that end. I'm back down at the cloning chamber now, and Skywalker and Jade are asleep. I'll be down here until they wake up."

"Acknowledged. Parck out."

Thrawn shut off his comlink and stepped back into the room, stretching as he did so. One or two hours of sleep would not be amiss for him, either.


"So let me get this straight: Parck adores you, and Pellaeon's willing to accept you, both knowing full well that you're a clone?"

Thrawn arched a dignified eyebrow. "I suppose that is one way to put it."

"Don't let her get to you—she's cranky when she doesn't get enough sleep," Skywalker advised. Jade tossed him a brief glare, which he returned with a sweet smile.

Thrawn simply shook his head and said, "That leaves two people left on my list of contacts."

"Oh?" Skywalker said in genuine surprise. "May I ask who?"

"Onetime smuggler chief Jorj Car'das—" Thrawn nearly smiled at the shock on Jade's face—"and one of my own people: Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano of the Fifth Ruling Family."

"A leader of your people?" Jade frowned, puzzled. "But I thought Thrawn was exiled."

"He was," the clone confirmed. "But when my father was out here, solidifying his secret Imperial presence, he returned to his homeworld to gather his Household Phalanx."

"Stent," Jade murmured.

"Stent," Thrawn nodded. "During that time, Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano contacted him. They were formerly enemies of a sort, the Aristocra disagreeing vehemently with my father's policies and acting as one of the influential voices in bringing about the exile. But now the Aristocra had seen more of the galaxy beyond the Ascendancy's borders and was willing to listen to Father."

"So he became a sort of unofficial ally?" Jade guessed.

"Indeed. They even laid out plans to deal with a certain violent species once those people arose again."

Skywalker looked pensive; Jade looked curious. "What connection do you have to Jorj Car'das?" she asked.

Thrawn grinned widely. "Quite a deep one—they were good friends, once. In fact, Jorj and one of his former shipmates taught my father to speak Basic."


Fshzzzzzzzzzzz…

Ohhh yes, this was paradise. Mara twirled under the hot water of the 'fresher, thrilled to be clean after Force knew how many weeks without a shower.

Thrawn had arranged temporary quarters for herself and Luke while he wrapped up his business with his far-flung allies and his home base. Those quarters included refreshers that had real running water. Sonic showers would never beat the feel of a spray of warm water.

She ran her hands through her hair, working out the tangles and snarls. She would have liked some shampoo, but she could easily get by without it. Maybe she should try to fix it in some way that would catch Luke's eye.

She couldn't help grinning at the thought. She loved Luke, and she knew he loved her back. Looks, gestures, tones of voice, holding her hand, that kiss on her forehead…

By rights, it should have worried her—after all, Luke had a history of ill-fated girlfriends. But where Callista and Gaeriel had failed, Mara was determined to succeed.

The one target she hadn't killed—now the one man she couldn't do without. The idea was frightening and thrilling at the same time. And amusingly ironic—just like the fact that the clone of one of their greatest enemies was now determined to become their greatest ally. That was life, wasn't it?

She shook her head. Thrawn was interesting, to say the least. A kid, really, by chronological and biological standards—only from a mental standpoint was he older. Even then, though he was older intellectually, Mara could tell that he thought like a young man. He had the optimism, idealism, and fresh devotion of a boy, tempered only by his father's memories and imparted wisdom.

To be honest, Mara had to admit that she liked him. He had a charisma about him that was certainly his father's in part but also his own. She knew, though, from long experience that such charisma was an excellent weapon in the hands of a capable mind, and had no doubt that Thrawn would use his natural charm to his advantage. Time would tell whether his intentions would remain pure or not.

His appearance really had changed everything. Mara had more than half a mind to accept some kind of position out here with the Empire, if only to keep an eye on Thrawn. If she did accept, he'd probably realize her intention and keep an eye on her in turn, but that was something she was willing to live with. She knew that she'd mellowed out over the years—not by too much, but she had. And with the (now-needless) sacrifice of her beloved ship, she thought like a Jedi now more than ever. Hopefully, that kind of thinking would be a good influence on Thrawn.

From the accounts she'd heard here of Grand Admiral Thrawn, she was beginning to think that the man hadn't started out so wrong. Of course, there was the whole Outbound Flight incident, and she made a mental note to ask the clone about that later. But it was sounding like Thrawn had joined the Empire only to protect his people, and somewhere along the way, he hadn't just joined the Empire, he'd become it.

She wasn't about to let the young Thrawn suffer his father's fate.

He was a good kid—she knew it. She wasn't going to let the power he would wield corrupt him.

And that decided it. After fifteen years, she was going to rejoin the Empire.


Dinner was a quiet affair—Luke, Mara, Thrawn, and Parck, all in a private dining room. Thrawn was telling Parck about his conversations with Jorj Car'das and Aristocra Chaf'orm'bintrano, Mara was listening and watching intently, and Luke was splitting his attention between the Imperials and Mara.

He couldn't help it. Her grey tech's uniform—courtesy of their host—hung slightly baggy on her slender figure, but she still managed to look terrific in it. Her red-gold hair, rather than pulled back into her characteristic braid, fell loose and wavy around her shoulders.

She caught his gaze and winked slightly. He responded with a small smile.

Mara then tilted her head fractionally toward the Imperials, a not-so-subtle hint that he should stop mooning over her and pay attention to what they were saying.

Oh, but it was hard to stop mooning.

At last, Thrawn ended his narrative and turned to his guests. "My apologies for ignoring you, Master Skywalker, Captain Jade," he said, looking properly embarrassed.

"No problem," Mara assured him, waving a dismissive hand. "It's been interesting just listening."

"Yes," Luke nodded. "And please, just call me Luke."

Mara glanced at him, faintly annoyed with him for the offer, then sighed. "You can call me Mara if you want."

Glancing between the two of them, Thrawn smiled slowly. "Very well, then, Luke, Mara."


Mara cleared her throat—time to move on to another subject. "Yes, well… So, you really think your people's government will cooperate with you?"

Thrawn lifted his glass and appeared to study the play of light on the water. "Not yet. The Nine Families, as a rule, are slow to trust, and as Mitth'raw'nuruodo's heir, I have quite a bit of trust to recover. It won't be easy, and it will take time. I must admit, I'm counting on a few military victories out here to help me along that path."

"'Certain threats'?" Luke suggested. Mara knew he was casting his mind back to the memories he'd glimpsed at inside Thrawn's mind.

Thrawn eyed him. "Indeed."

"What's our game plan for getting you to Bastion?" Mara asked.

Thrawn tilted his head. "Excuse me?"

Green eyes intense, Mara leaned forward in her seat, resting her arms on the table. "How are you going to land, public or private? Will Luke and I be with you, will we be landing after you, will we not be following you at all? Will you introduce yourself as Thrawn's clone or son or even the man himself?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Luke blink. He apparently hadn't considered all that. The word farmboy ran affectionately through her mind.

"Ah," Thrawn said understandingly, leaning back in his own seat and steepling his index and ring fingers. "I've already asked Admiral Pellaeon to make my landing a controlled public event."

"As in, whoever's there won't say anything about it until they're allowed to," Mara surmised.

"Yes. As for you and M—Luke—what you do is up to you. You may come with me, or you can return to New Republic. I'm sure you'll be present for a treaty."

"Most likely," Luke nodded. "I don't know about Mara, but frankly, I'm rather curious now as to how Bastion will accept you."

"I'm in if you're in," Mara told him.

"Then I guess we're in," Luke shrugged. "We could follow behind in… ooo…"

The X-wing. Mara grimaced. "Stang, that's going to be a tight fit." Neither of them voiced the thought running through their heads: Mara would have to be sitting on top of Luke for the several days it would take to reach Bastion.

Thrawn must have realized it, too. "One of you could ride in the shuttle with me until we reach a world close to Imperial space. Then we land, I drop off my passenger, and you two come in a few hours behind me."

Mara glanced Luke's way, conveying her displeasure with the thought of being cramped in an X-wing cockpit with him for just a few hours. She knew he really didn't like the idea anymore than she did, but… What else could they do?

"I suppose that would be acceptable," Luke said slowly.

((http : / / www . youtube . com / watch? v=IsrpihrcXD4&fmt=18))

Thrawn nodded sharply. "Very well. And as to that last question, Mara, I will not hide myself behind a forged birth certificate or my predecessor's identity. Such deceptions always fail in the end, and I would inwardly dread the fallout." He straightened in his seat. "No. To the galaxy, I must be both clone and son."

Luke frowned. "I'm not sure I follow you."

Thrawn leaned forward. "The concept itself is quite simple, really. The Empire needs to accept me as Mitth'raw'nuruodo's clone, as the one man who's inherited the memories and capabilities of the late Grand Admiral."

For the first time since they'd met him, his red eyes blazed with sudden fire, and Mara had a sudden, uncomfortable realization of who this man really was. All this time, he had been acting more like his own person, and abruptly, he'd switched gears on them. In this moment, Grand Admiral Thrawn was alive once more.

"To them," he continued, "I must be the reincarnation of their beloved leader, the man whose perception and tactical brilliance can be counted on."

The fire in his eyes dimmed, and he inched back slightly. "To the New Republic, I will be known as the clone, but I must also be considered the son. While I have all of Mitth'raw'nuruodo's capabilities, I am not Mitth'raw'nuruodo himself." His gaze bored into the two Force-sensitives. "You know this. I share many, many traits with him, but I am not my father."

"Maybe you could say… you're what your father should have been," Mara said quietly.

The clone shot her a double-take. "Explain." She winced mentally—that was definitely a command. To make matters worse, Parck was watching the whole thing very intently.

Kriff. Her and her big mouth.

"You're—well, from what I've seen of you," she said carefully, "you're optimistic, idealistic, devoted, charismatic… You've got Thrawn's good qualities, and hopefully none of his bad ones. See, since Luke and I reached this place, I've heard things that make me think that Thrawn hadn't started out so wrong. He was trying to protect his people—okay, that's good. I can understand that—I can respect that."

She leaned forward in her seat again, her green eyes meeting his red ones and holding them. "But let me tell you this: the man I met was not the martyred hero who'd been exiled by his people. Thrawn didn't just join the Empire—he became the Empire. He backed out of deals. He wasn't above using torture. He sought revenge.

"Even at that point in time, I'm willing to concede that Thrawn might have still been a noble man." She leaned in further, her eyes narrowing, her voice hardening. "But by any ethical person's standards, Thrawn was a cruel man, even casually so."

The air had tensed so far as to snap with one wrong move or word. Luke and Parck sat frozen, stunned by her audacity and severity. Thrawn, on the other hand, seemed to be a tensed coil, emotions flickering over his darkened face too quickly for Mara to read.

They held each other's gaze for what felt like a long time.

Ten years ago, a younger, less-trained Mara couldn't have withstood such a contest of wills with Grand Admiral Thrawn for very long. Now, though… now Mara was older, very close to being a Jedi… and Thrawn was a boy, not a Grand Admiral.

But just when she thought she couldn't hold it any longer, Thrawn looked down, and Grand Admiral Thrawn was gone once more. The tension released like air escaping through a damaged hull into space, and Mara figured they all were letting out breaths they hadn't realized they were holding.

"Good men fall," Thrawn murmured.

Mara felt rather than saw the statement capture Luke's attention, and she knew why. Vader. Stang, Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker, Grand Admiral Thrawn and Syndic Thrawn—now there was an interesting comparison.

"Yes, good men fall," Luke said quietly. "And sons have the chance to keep from making the mistakes their fathers did."

Thrawn shot him a double-take, trying to read the subtext in Luke's words and not quite making it. It was then that something clicked into Mara's mind at last, something that had been nagging at the back of her mind for the past ten years.

Thrawn hadn't known.

The Noghri revolt had blindsided him because he—just as Mara herself, until near the end—hadn't known that Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa Solo were the children of Darth Vader. Why would he run the risk of having one of those Noghri teams he'd sent to kidnap Leia realize her heritage and switch allegiances, otherwise? It made sense.

Grand Admiral Thrawn hadn't known… and neither, therefore, did his clone.

Luke caught her eye and gave her an acknowledgement through the Force—he'd come to the same conclusion. Mara remained silent: she'd let Luke explain his parentage in his own good time.

Neither Thrawn nor Parck spoke, the latter out of respect, the former in contemplation. The young clone was staring at his glass as if he could burn it up with his gaze.

Mara decided to break the silence once more. "You're a good man, Mitth'raw'nuruodo," she said gently. "Don't fall."

Slowly, Thrawn's head came up, his eyes locking on hers once more. "I won't."


Author's Note:

Longest chapter yet! W00t! And got a lot of history in this chapter. That was fun.

Personally, I really like the comparison between Vader and Luke, and Thrawn and Thrawn. The fathers were good men who fell, and their "sons" are good men who are determined to succeed.

And that bit about Thrawn not knowing that Vader was the twins' father… that's something that's been nagging at me for a while now. I really doubt that he would have sent out Vader's former personal assassins for Vader's own daughter if he had known.

Btw, I got two reviews for the prologue, three reviews for the first chapter, and four reviews for the second. By that pattern, I should be getting five reviews for this chapter. Do I expect that many? No. Do I think that many would be awesome? Oh yeah.

Please review!