AN: Thanks for the favorite, Zaconator and Zackis!

I decided not to rehash this entire story, since you guys are all presumably familiar with Zahn's novella, Mist Encounter. Here is just a bit of it from Thrawn's perspective, though. As always, reviews are appreciated!

Chapter 6

19 BBY

Thrawn was bending over one of his more complex traps, resetting it after he had killed the small visimch'or that he had found ensnared in it, when he heard the sound. Snare and game alike both abruptly forgotten, he straightened and strained to listen. It was like music to his ears: the distant but unmistakable whine of a starship's engines. A higher pitched whine joined it, followed by the stutter of laserfire. Abandoning his hunting activities, Thrawn strained his eyes up at the bright sky, searching for movement, but the trees were in the way. Choosing the largest tree near him, he quickly climbed it, aiming for the highest vantage point possible to watch the incoming vessels.

The first ship, a mid-sized freighter, rocketed into view, barely skimming above the treetops. Two small fighters with a ball-shaped cockpit and hexagonal wings screamed in behind it, spitting laserfire. Intrigued, Thrawn watched as the fleeing ship's own weapons spat in return. It was clear from the fighter's ponderous movements that either the ships were poorly designed or their pilots lacked experience in maneuvering through atmosphere. Either way, the slow movements of the craft made them easy targets for the freighter and it took only six shots before the first fighter exploded into a ball of light and fire. A pity, Thrawn thought. The explosion had been too major for their to be anything left that could be of use to him. A few more salvos of brilliant laserfire were exchanged between the combatants before the remaining fighter began billowing smoke and began a long, lazy arc towards the ground. The freighter continued its harried flight, disappearing from his view as it reached the edge of the forest and continued on, hugging the ground for cover.

Clearly, there was some sort of conflict going on between two different groups. Thrawn doubted that the two small fighters had any hyperspace capability, which meant there had to be another ship in orbit. A tight smile touched Thrawn's lips as he slid to the ground and set off for his small camp at a run. Conflict of this sort was just the sort of thing he knew how to use to his advantage. A plan already forming in his mind, he hurried to gather the supplies he would require.


Barely a day later, Thrawn slipped silently out of the transport he had stowed away on and into the vast hangar bay of the ship they had landed in. His plan had gone off without hitch, thus far; all he needed to do to complete it was choose a ship to steal and make his escape. Keeping to cover as much as possible, he crossed stealthily to the line of ships against the far wall of the hangar. He paused for a moment, sizing them up. Selecting a small shuttle craft parked in the center of the row, he snuck inside.

He was still familiarizing himself with the controls of the ship when he heard footsteps echoing through the bay. Knowing he had been discovered, Thrawn got to his feet quickly and drew the odd handgun he had scavenged off the dead fighter pilot. He cast around the small cockpit for a place to hide, but there was nowhere. Thrawn took a step towards the back of the ship, hoping to find better cover there, but footsteps thundered up the boarding ramp of the small shuttle, cutting off any hope of escape. Abandoning stealth, he stood calmly in the entrance to the cockpit, handgun ready and waiting for whoever was coming.

A group of four armored troopers charged into the cramped space, leveling their larger, more powerful weapons at him. Thrawn noted that their armor, bearing and behavior was identical to that of those who had served as reinforcements for the human troops on the planet. "Drop the weapon and keep your hands where I can see them!" the first trooper barked at him, his voice coming out oddly accented through the filtration system of his helmet.

For a moment, Thrawn considered feigning that he didn't know Basic, as he had done with Jorj Car'das and his companions. He quickly dismissed the possibility, though; he had been the one in the stronger position in that situation and he had done it largely to appease his own curiosity. Chiara had been gone for several months, by that point, and not only did he miss her intensely, but he had also been interested to meet others from the Republic and see what else he could learn about the region of space she had once called home. This was not merely an exercise in mental acuity where the worst possible outcome was for Car'das to find out he had been lied to and that Thrawn had known Basic all along; this could very well mean his life or death.

Moving with deliberate slowness, Thrawn dropped the handgun into the pilot's chair and held his hands out to the side, palms outward to show that he had no other weapons in concealment. One of the armored warriors moved forward and snapped a pair of binders around his wrists while the other three kept their weapons trained on him. The one that had bound his wrists gave him a rough shove towards the boarding ramp. "Move," he commanded.

Contemplating how best to use this turn of events to his advantage, Thrawn allowed himself to be marched down the ramp and two humans that stood waiting.

"Welcome aboard the Victory Star Destroyer Strikefast. Do you speak Basic?" the older man asked.

Thrawn studied him with glowing eyes. Clearly, this man was in command. The other one, the man staring at him with barely concealed disgust and hostility, seemed to be some sort of officer. He considered for a moment, debating whether or not it was prudent to allow them to see just how fluent he was in Basic. They might wonder where he had obtained such fluency in their language. "Some," he said finally.

"Good," the one in command said. "I'm Captain Parck, commander of this ship. What's your name?"

Thrawn's gaze was already drifting around the hangar bay as the Captain introduced himself, analyzing its equipment and the strength of its ships now that the lights had been turned on and he could see more clearly. In no hurry to complete his assessment, he waited a long moment before he brought his eyes back to the Captain, settling in for the conversation that would determine the course of his future. "I am called Mitth'raw'nuruodo."


Two and a half weeks later, Thrawn stood on the bridge of the Strikefast along with Captain Parck, staring out the viewport at the planet before him. He carefully kept his jaw from hanging open in shock and awe. Chiara had described Coruscant to him on multiple occasions, but nothing could possibly prepare him for the sight of the booming ecumenopolis.

"It's quite a sight, isn't it?" Captain Parck said, coming up beside him. "I've been here more times than I can count, but this place never ceases to amaze me."

"It is impressive," Thrawn said in as disinterested a tone as he could manage, his eyes on the bridge displays currently showing the flowing lines traffic that moved above the planet, trailing brilliant, evermoving rivers of light across the surface. He wondered what Chiara had truly thought of Csilla after growing up here. Even for all their technology and culture, their frigid world and homes buried under the ice must have seemed truly primitive to her when compared with this. His heart ached at the thought of her. He had always hoped that perhaps someday they could return to the Republic together. Not permanently, of course, but so she could show him some of her favorite worlds and so he could learn more about this region of space. That dream had diad a sudden and painful death, along with all the other hopes he had harbored for their future together. Now, he stood here alone, gazing down at the planet that was the closest thing to home she had ever known before he found her. The irony of the fact that she had left this place behind to serve the Chiss and that he was now giving up his life in the Ascendancy to come here and serve the Empire was not lost on him.

"Come, we shouldn't keep the Emperor waiting," Captain Parck told him, leading the way off the bridge.


As Thrawn skillfully navigated one of the Kappa shuttles down through the atmosphere and the clutter of traffic, he marveled again at the immensity of the cityscape that had swallowed an entire world. Spires of buildings stretched into the sky like fingers reaching up to grasp at the stars and the lights from orderly traffic moved across the planet like streams of lava. Following the homing beacon and instructions Parck had given him, Thrawn carefully eased the shuttle into one of the lines of traffic. He was acutely aware of the Captain sitting beside him in the copilot's seat, watching his every move to insure that he didn't send them careening into one of the other ships or buildings.

As he approached their landing pad, Thrawn's gaze fell on what clearly used to be a majestic building, complete with four spires and an immense pilar in the center. From the research he had done on Coruscant and from Chiara's descriptions, he knew this was the Jedi Temple where she had spent her early years. The once proud structure was now blackened and burned, clearly falling into disrepair. He swallowed as he gazed out at it, unable to look away. From what he had been able to gather while studying the history of the fledgling Empire, the Jedi had risen up against the former Republic and been destroyed for their rebellion. That didn't seem to fit with what Chiara had told him of the Jedi, though, or with what he had observed from her in their years together. Perhaps she was not a typical Jedi, he thought to himself, finally succeeding in wrenching his eyes away from the sight. She admitted freely that she had her disagreements with the Council. Perhaps they strayed from their path as the protectors of peace. Whatever the answer, he didn't expect to find the truth in the documents of this Empire: any new regime would automatically sterilize and rewrite any portions of history that cast them in a less-than-favorable light, he knew.

And yet, not even knowing if the Empire had indeed been justified at wiping out Chiara's Jedi brethren, here he was, preparing to offer his services to their Emperor. What would she say if she could see him now? Stop it, he told himself harshly. She's not here. She's gone, and it is my fault for sending her on that mission. She left the Jedi Order to be with me and to serve the Chiss. In joining this Empire, I will be serving my people in the best way that I can. In a way, I am continuing on the work that she left behind. Surely she would understand that, if she were still here. Shaking off the nagging uncertainties that hung over him like a black raincloud, Thrawn guided the shuttle confidently to their landing pad and set them down with the lightest of bumps as the landing gear touched down.

"Well done, Thrawn," the Captain complimented him as he shifted the shuttle's systems to standby. "You've learned to pilot these shuttles in short order and navigating Coruscant is not an easy thing to do. I'm impressed."

Thrawn inclined his head politely. "I have had excellent teaching, Captain." The Captain himself had taken a personal hand in Thrawn's introduction to Imperial procedures and training, often spending several hours a day in intensive tutoring with him to be certain that he was prepared to meet this Emperor Palpatine.

Parck gave him a knowing smile. "Save your flattery for the Emperor, Thrawn. You'll need it there more than anywhere else. Now, let's go and introduce you to our glorious leader."