A/N: Thank you again for all the reviews and private messages. I answer each one that I can. :) I know I promised Thrawn elements in this next chapter. Before I am mobbed, please understand that the chapter became too large. I had to break it into two different chapters so it wasn't so unwieldy to read. I have finished the second part and will post it soon. Thrawn becomes key in the story at that point, so please continue to bear with me.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OCs. Please don't sue. This is purely for fun. Extra special love for Timothy Zahn for writing Heir to the Empire in the first place!

"Stop pacing, already," Pieterson said moodily from where he reclined on his bunk. "You're going to wear a rut in the deck plating."

I ignored him, completing my walk past two more of the double-decked crewman bunks before spinning on my heel and heading back. For a second, I took pride in the fact that I had just completed a perfectly executed military turn. One day I was going to have to find Lieutenant Reese and thank him for his instruction. Ever since he'd shown me how to let my 'head lead my body,' I was completing my marching and military turns to perfection. So much so that Ensign Colclazure had been forced to come up with other punishments for me when I failed to perform a task to his satisfaction.

That taste of pride was fleeting. Almost as soon as I felt it, it was washed away in a deluge of fear and nervousness that threatened to claim what was left of my sanity. If I wouldn't have earned a severe reprimand for it, I would have chewed my fingernails to stubs.

We were going into battle today. The Chimaera was heading to the Bpfassh system as part of a three-pronged hit-and-fade tactic orchestrated by none other than Grand Admiral Thrawn. That in and of itself wasn't out of the ordinary for the ship. But it was my first battle since my conscription. It was also the first battle in which Jedi Master Jorus C'Baoth would be assisting the fleet. And that changed everything.

"I still have no idea what he meant by 'assisting,'" I grumbled, reaching the other end of my self-designated pacing zone and turning around again.

"I don't think our officers really know what that means, either," Tam put in from where he stood, leaning against my storage locker.

"Colclazure certainly doesn't," Pieterson added, frowning up at the bunk above him. "That whole speech he gave us sounded rehearsed. Sounded more than rehearsed, actually. It sounded like he was reading from his orders."

I rolled my eyes at that comment. Lately Pieterson had taken to expanding his disdain for his situation to a whole new level. It was now the personal fault of everyone in a position above him that he was a conscript and therefore to blame for everything. So much so that he'd taken to into insulting our officer behind his back. Tam, for his part, had long since given up on talking to Pieterson. He seemed content to ignore the other man. I don't think Pieterson registered the fact that Tam ignored him most of the time, or if he did he didn't show it. The two of them had yet to make up after that last argument in the workout area. It hardly mattered, I forced myself to admit. Whether we agreed with him or not, Pieterson was part of our little group. Maybe one day we'd get through to him.

Maybe Reese was wrong about him. I had to keep believing that. It was one more straw of sanity that I grasped tightly with both hands.

"Did your officer say anything different?" I asked Tam, coming to a stop in front of him.

Tam shook his head. "No, he pretty much said the same thing. Then he dismissed our team like I assume your officer did to you. Told us to wait in reserve until we were called upon."

I compressed my lips in a thin line. "That's pretty much what Colclazure said."

"You think this might be nothing more than another training exercise?" Tam asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

Pieterson snorted. "No, it's the real deal," he said, matter-of-factly. "What you two don't realize is that the previous shift already has battle experience. They're going to set up all the systems and do all the preliminary work. Once everything's in place, your officer is going to call you up to the bridge to take their places. That way, if you do something stupid or wrong, they can just kill you and bring in the real guys. Who will have already set everything up, just so you know, so it'll be a smooth transition. Just brush your lifeless body aside and take over."

Tam rubbed his hands over his face. I couldn't see the look that he sent Pieterson through his fingers, but I was willing to bet my meager week's pay that it wasn't pleasant. "Burn me, Pieterson, you were making all sorts of sense until that last part. How many times do I have to tell you that I don't want to be here, either. But I was given a choice: serve or die. I'm rather fond of living."

"If you could call this living," Pieterson muttered by way of reply.

"Stop it, both of you," I sighed, clasping my hands behind my back so I didn't reach out and smack them both. "This isn't helping."

Pieterson shrugged. "It wasn't meant to."

This time I could see the look that Tam sent Pieterson. It was less than pleasant. "Tam," I said sharply, causing both men to jump a bit. "Seriously, just leave him alone. Look, we need to focus on something other than this or we're going to be less than useless when asked to join the battle."

Tam pushed away from the locker, joining me in my designated pacing area. There was a slight smirk on his lips. "I can tell your lessons are paying off. You almost sounded like my officer for a second when you snapped at me. And you're standing like he does, too."

I jerked a bit at that, realizing that I had come to stand at military ease, my hands clasped behind my back and my shoulders straight and tall. Immediately I relaxed, not bothering to fight the blush staining my face. "Sorry," I murmured, lowering my eyes to the deck and rubbing the back of my neck. "Ensign Colclazure demands almost all my time now and most of that is spent standing at full attention. Standing at ease has become my new relaxed."

"Don't apologize," Tam said gently. "Reflexes like that just might save your life. I might ask my officer for additional lessons myself. It seems to be working for you."

We both chose to ignore the rather unkind words that Pieterson muttered in our direction at that, especially the sounds that came close to words like "sellouts" or "cowards."

"You won't have time for anything else if your officer is anything like mine," I said over Pieterson's mutters. "Anyway, this isn't helping us. Have you figured out anything else about this Master C'Baoth person?"

"Yeah, and it's not good," Tam pulled out his datapad and slotted a card into it. "Check this out. Remember how I said that most people on the ship either didn't believe that C'Baoth was a Jedi Master? Or those that did figured he was going to be like Lord Vader and chose to stay the hell out of his way? Well, things are changing."

I moved over to where I could see, and then whistled low between my teeth. "I see what you mean. Are you certain about this?"

Tam nodded grimly. "I wish I wasn't, Idelas. But the facts are here. All the people on this list have had prolonged contact with C'Baoth. All of them were reported as having disliked the man, himself, or were against the idea of having a Jedi on board. All of them are now singing his praises, or they aren't around anymore to say anything. Remember Lieutenant Hollinger in Engineering?"

Oh that name made me wince. Being yelled at by him once was enough to give me nightmares for days. "Yes, that man's as mean as a rancor with a sore claw. Wasn't he the most vocal about his disbelief in Jedi Masters?"

"Not anymore," Tam frowned. "I found him in one of the storage closets of the hangar bay. He was curled up in the fetal position sobbing. Sobbing because 'the Master' had chosen not to fill his mind with sunlight. You get two guesses as to who this 'Master' might be, though I doubt you'll need them."

I felt the blood draining from my face. Jedi Master Jorus C'Baoth. Who else could it be? "What did you do?"

"What else could I do? I called for a medic immediately. Last thing I heard was that Hollinger was being transferred off ship to mental institution somewhere. They say he suffered a complete psychotic break and they aren't optimistic that he'll even partially recover—ever."

"Burn me," I breathed, staring at the list of names on that datapad. "And all these people are in that same condition?"

"No, not all," Tam admitted, scrolling through the names. "Hollinger was the worst case thus far. The rest of them are just acting… oddly. Not anything too out of the ordinary, and they certainly aren't shirking their duties. But it's just a feeling. It's like… like there's something dark inside their eyes now that wasn't there before."

"And all of them have had extensive contact with Master C'Baoth? You're certain about this?"

Again, Tam nodded. "Near as I can tell. What's also interesting is that these people work in sections of the ship that haven't been fitted with those odd frameworks containing those creatures from Myrkr."

"You think there's some correlation between the frameworks and C'Baoth?" Pieterson asked.

Tam and I both jumped, startled by the fact that Pieterson had a) said something useful, and b) said it in a tone that wasn't filled with angsty self-righteousness. That, and the fact that neither of us had heard him leave his bunk and walk over to join us.

Tam ran a hand over his chin in thought, angling the datapad so that Pieterson could read it. "I think there's an anti-correlation," he said slowly. "Almost as if these creatures somehow kept Master C'Baoth from influencing the people around him. Maybe that's why there are no bridge crew on this list. The bridge is practically ringed with these creatures on their framework."

"Which would in turn mean that our Captain and the Admiral aren't influenced by Master C'Baoth, then," I added, shoulders slumping in a touch of relief. A relief that Tam shared. At least the command structure was still sound.

Pieterson, on the other hand, shook his head slowly. "How do you know for certain? And what does it matter, really, if this C'Baoth does anything to us. Is that any worse than being an expendable plastic solider for the Empire?"

Tam rubbed the bridge of his nose, a groan escaping his compressed lips. I shot an annoyed yet resigned glance at Pieterson. "Stop," I said softly. "Just stop. Tam and I are trying to survive as best as we know how. I know you are doing the same. For us, it's fitting in here on the Chimaera and doing our best. For you it's a passive aggressive attitude and resistance. So let's go back to agreeing to disagree on whose survival tactics are best and figure out how to alert the staff to what we know."

"You even sound like them now, Idelas," Pieterson said by way of a parting verbal shot. He slunk back to his bunk and threw himself into it with a labored sigh. "Talking about our lives like they were nothing more than a tactical exercise."

I ignored that, or at least tried to. It stung more than I would admit to myself that I was beginning to act and sound like a card-carrying-proud-to-serve Imperial officer. But Tam had already stated the alternative to that: death or service. At least in service there was the potential of earning leave time and visiting our homeworlds. There was no potential in death.

Lodging that thought permanently in the forefront of my mind, I tuned out Pieterson's continued grumblings and focused on Tam's list. "How do we tell anyone about our fears, and who do we tell in the first place?"

"That's just it," Tam said, glancing back at the datapad. "All we have is my gut feeling. Hollinger's breakdown has been attributed to a combination of genetics and stress. His case is closed to us as evidence now. Until we have some solid evidence that Master C'Baoth is using his powers to harm the crew, we can't tell anyone. Unless you want to be the first to accuse someone who's apparently in the Grand Admiral's inner circle of confidants of these crimes?"

"I don't even want to attempt to try that WITH a mountain of evidence," I retorted, biting my lower lip.

"My thoughts exactly."

"What do you think we should do then?"

Tam keyed off his datapad and handed me the datacard. "We stick to our original plan. We keep our heads down, blend in, and survive. Don't cause any ripples in the status quo that will get you noticed, especially now by Master C'Baoth. But keep our eyes open for anything suspicious. Oh, and let's try to map out all the areas we can that have those frameworks and creatures in them. We'll make those our new routes to get around the ship as much as possible."

I nodded. "That sounds good for now. Pieterson, do you copy?"

His response was a casual wave of his hand, as if nothing mattered in the slightest to him anymore.

"Keep the datacard on your person at all times," Tam said, programming his datapad to wipe the memory clean. "We'll rotate who has it. I don't want this to fall into the wrong hands before we are ready to present our evidence to a superior."

I paled again at that, slipping the card into a pocket of my uniform jumpsuit. If our research fell into the hands of an officer before we were ready… well, let's just say that Pieterson's prophecy of executions for all would truly come to pass.

Tam opened his mouth to say something more when both our comlinks buzzed in unison. I stared at him a long moment. He stared at me. With shaking hands we both answered our coms, and in unison ran for the turbolift. The battle of Bpfassh was about to begin, and as Pieterson had predicted, we'd been called to replace our counterparts early. It was time for us to earn our battle experience.