If the goal of that evening was lowering inhibitions, it worked splendidly. As for who it worked on… I still question that. I will admit that I stumbled. But did my company stumble as well? In those few intensely emotional moments we shared, did he mistakenly show more of his hand than he intended? Or were all his confessions simply part of his plan?

The infallible Admiral would, of course, claim that it was all part of a master scheme. But I'm not sure how much I trust everything the Admiral says. Those who believe they are guided by logic and reason are often more susceptible to emotions than they realize.


She woke alone, in a sterile white room she didn't recognize. It took her a few moments to recognize it was a hospital room, with beeping machines attached to… her? What was she doing in a hospital?

The door opened and a woman walked in, dressed in a nurse's uniform. She gave Riyo a surprised look when she saw she was conscious. "Ah, good, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

"Not great. My head hurts a bit, and my shoulder is sore." It ached as if she slept on it wrong.

"All things considered, that's not too bad. The painkillers must be working." She checked a few of the machines and recorded something onto a datapad.

"Painkillers? I'm afraid I can't recall what happened… how did I end up here?" She tried to push upright, but paralyzing pain shot through her shoulder, leaving a ringing sensation echoing through her limbs.

"Careful, you don't want to put any pressure on that shoulder for a while." She moved into a seat. "You were attacked outside your home last night and sustained a severe injury to your shoulder. The memories will likely come back to you with time. We're doing everything we can to help you, but it will take time for you to recover so be gentle with yourself."

"I was attacked?" Her mind raced, trying to remember anything from the night before. She and the Admiral were going to her home. She recalled their conversation over dinner, and him dressed in a dashing suit… but everything after was shrouded in darkness. Had he attacked her? "What happened?"

"You don't need to worry much," She placed a hand on Riyo's good shoulder to reassure her. "The matter has been taken care of by the authorities. Unfortunately, I don't have many details, so I'm not of much use to you. If you don't mind, I need to run a few quick tests. Your assistant is here, I'm certain he'll want to speak with you. I'll send someone to find him."

The woman ran a few scans using devices Riyo wasn't familiar with while she stewed on her situation. Who would have shot her? Thrawn was so cordial over their dinner; it seemed absurd that he might have done anything to her.

The nurse left and moments later her door flew open. Kenzo came in, buzzing with nervous energy. "Riyo? You're awake. Are you okay?"

"I think so. Thank you for being here, you didn't need to…"

"You must be joking." He closed the door, giving them some privacy. "I found out about the attack early this morning, I came right away." His mouth hung open, his eyes wide. "Riyo, I'm so sorry, they brought you here late last night… I was out and didn't get the message until this morning…"

Out. There was only one thing that meant coming from Kenzo. He was likely passed out cold when she was brought to the hospital. She laughed, "Kenzo, you shouldn't be so concerned. I'm your boss. You're allowed to go out and have your own life and not worry about attending to my needs." She squinted at him, noticing some discoloration under his eyes. "Are you bruised?"

He ran his fingers over the bridge of his nose like he was trying to hide the evidence, "Er… don't worry about that. It's nothing. You're the one we need to be worried about." He moved into a seat in front of a large window that was lined with items she hadn't noticed before. Flower arrangements, baskets of food, plush toys… they were packed into the space, spilling over onto the floor. Kenzo shrugged, "Those are from your fans." He pointed to a particularly gorgeous arrangement of flowers sitting on the stand next to her bed. "But those ones are from my mother."

She never imagined she could be so fond of an employee's family, but Kenzo's mother was easily one of the most thoughtful people she'd ever met. "I should have guessed that. You'll thank her for me?"

He nodded. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Very sore. My shoulder…"

"They said it was in pretty bad condition, it sounds like the blast nearly destroyed the joint. You have the best doctors working on it though. They're optimistic about your recovery, from the little they've told me."

"Do you know what happened?"

He inhaled deeply, leaning back in his seat. "I only know what I've been able to pick up from conversations. The whole matter is still being kept quiet. You and the Admiral were attacked by a few Rebels just outside your home."

Her lungs grew tight as she tried to process what she told him. A vague memory floated in her mind — Garren. His voice. It made absolutely no sense.

"I… I'm sorry. What? How do they know the attackers were Rebels?"

"Two of them had records, they've been wanted by the Empire for some time. I suppose this confirms the Admiral's suspicions. We definitely have some sort of Rebel presence here."

She struggled to inhale. "Um…"

"Are you okay? Should I call a nurse?" His eyebrows pinched together and he started to stand for the door.

"No, no, I'm alright." She forced a deep, even breath. Another memory slowly floated back to her — Thrawn, falling to the ground after being struck by a bast. "The Admiral. Is he…"

"He's fine, so I'm told. I haven't seen him. The medics aboard his ship have been taking care of him."

She touched her injured shoulder gently, trying to recall where the shot had landed on him. "Do you know anything about his condition? I think I remember him getting shot."

"Commander Vanto came by a few hours ago and I spoke to him for a little bit. He said you were in much worse condition than the Admiral. He was at least well enough to notify Eli right after the incident. Eli actually made it to the scene shortly after Pantoran authorities responded."

"Do you think you could send word to either he or his assistant? I'd like to see him whenever he's well enough."

He gave a cocky smile. "Has a request like that ever been a problem for me before? I'm certain I can get word to Commander Vanto quickly."

"Thank you. Please do." She paused, her mind wandering to a dark question. "What of the attackers?"

His expression turned dark. "There were three of them. Two were killed during the attack. I've been told one lived, but…" he winced a little, "from the sound of it the Admiral left him in pretty bad condition."


The day dragged on at the hospital, almost unbearably slow after Kenzo left. She hoped to attempt some work on her datapad with her good arm to help pass the time, but Kenzo insisted she needed to rest rather than work and refused to leave it with her. Luckily the painkillers made her sleepy, so she was able to spend a good deal of time napping between visits from various doctors. Every physician asked her questions and ran more tests, and they all assured her she would recover well if she allowed herself the time to heal. A neural specialist spent several minutes poking her right hand in various places and asking her if she felt anything, but she couldn't. He reassured her she would likely regain some feeling over time, but it was an unsettling out-of-body experience to watch him prod her fingers and not feel a thing.

The sky grew dark outside her window, and the activity in the hallway gradually died down. By the time the stars were out, she hadn't seen another person in hours. Even the hallway lights were dimmed.

Careful not to use her injured shoulder, she rose from the hospital bed and walked around the room. Standing upright and moving around actually brought some relief. She opened the door and made her way out to the hallway. Only a few overhead lights were left on, giving a dim glow that made the dark hallway safe enough for walking. She walked down a long corridor of empty patient rooms until she reached a reception area, where a night worker was stationed.

"I thought I heard a door back there," he said.

"Er… yes. Is it okay if I walk around for a little bit?" She felt like a child caught doing something she wasn't supposed to.

His smile reassured her she wasn't going to get into trouble. "Yes, you should be fine, just don't push yourself too hard. Make sure you stay on this floor. If you need anything just shout, you and I are the only ones awake on this floor."

"Thank you." It wasn't the most interesting place to walk around, but it was better than staying in her room. She wandered up and down a few hallways. The silence nearly made her hair stand on end at times.

The rooms were all dark, some with blinds drawn over them, others left open. They were all empty until she reached the last room at the end of one of the hallways. The room was dark, but the blinds were open so she could barely see the person lying in the bed.

She froze when she recognized him — it was Garren. How the Pantoran authorities managed to keep him here, in one of their own hospitals, was beyond her. No doubt they felt entitled to overseeing his recovery because he was one of their own, but the Imperials wouldn't have cared much for that reasoning.

Kenzo mentioned Thrawn left the man in bad condition, but as her eyes adjusted to the low light she was surprised by the extent of his injuries. His face was severely bruised, with bandages wound around a cranial injury. Her first instinct was to step back — to go away and not confront this. But refusing to look at the aftermath would be denying the reality they all took part in. She moved closer to the window.

What in the name of the Force was Garren thinking when he attacked her? They were supposed to be allies.

She leaned closer to the glass, and her breath caught in her throat. The white sheets of his bed were soaking, stained red with blood. She froze with horror, unable to react for a moment. Reality crashed down upon her and she shoved the door open with her good arm and rushed in to help him. She tore back the sheets to find where the bleeding was coming from and was overcome with a wave of nausea.

His wrists had been restrained to keep him from fleeing, but he had managed to free one arm. In what only could have been an act of complete desperation, he'd broken a sharp chunk from the plastic frame of the bed and used it to slice open his own wrists.

She leaned heavily against the bed and forced herself to breathe deeply enough to shout for help. While she wasn't versed in first aid, she knew enough to wrap her hand around his wrist in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Another wave passed over her, even stronger than before. He was cold. The wound itself barely bled. She shifted her hand, pressing the heel of her palm into his wrist, searching for any sign of a pulse. All she found was one beat so faint she may have imagined it.

It was too late. She looked up at his face. His eyes were still open, just barely. Could he still see anything? Did he know she was there?

She reached up to a small patch of unbruised skin on his cheekbone and ran her fingers over it. "I'm sorry…" Tears rolled down her face. "I'm so sorry this happened to you." However poor his choices may have been, it was a horrifying end for anyone to face, particularly alone. She hoped a piece of him was still hanging on, just enough to know someone else was there with him.

It was such a strange thing to notice, but the gold hairpin she drove into his side was lying on the table next to his bed, cleaned after the doctors removed it from him. She slid it into her pocket, because leaving it felt like trying to deny her own involvement in this mess. She remained standing next to him, sobbing and wishing circumstances could have been different for them all. She wasn't sure how long she was there, but eventually, a hand on her shoulder attempted to draw her away.

"Riyo…" Thrawn's voice was gentle, layered with a soothing hum. She almost didn't recognize it. He applied a gentle pressure to her, guiding her away from Garren, away from the tragic scene. Everything echoed around her, dull and distorted as he walked her back to her room. The click of the door to her room latching shut was like a cue; her windpipe shrunk to the size of a pinhole. She leaned against her bed, sobbing and gasping for air.

He stood with her silently, a hand on her arm as if to help hold her up. It was a curiously gentle gesture coming from him of all people — from someone who caused this travesty.

But was she really any different from him? She had her hand in this mess as well.

"Riyo," he finally spoke again, in that beautiful, hypnotic tone. "You're safe. Control your breathing. You have nothing to be afraid of."

Yes, she was okay. So was he. And there was a bloodied corpse down the hallway they traded for that privilege.

She tried to push his hand away from her arm, to keep him from touching her, but he took her hand into his own, tenderly pushing it down to steady her. "Try to stay calm. You need to wash your hands, you have blood on them."

Something about the comment, about his inexcusably tranquil tone, made her snap. "I have blood on my hands? So do you." She shoved him away, finally gathering herself enough to look up at him, to his face. A deep blue bruise ran around the outer corner of one of his eyes, and his lower lip was split but appeared to have been treated with healing ointment. She stepped back, "You know why he did that to himself. You're no fool, you know what the Empire does to the Rebels it catches. He had the choice to die on his own terms or in the cruel hands of the Empire. You forced him to make such a decision."

His head tilted slightly. "You mourn his death even though he nearly killed you?"

"Nobody…" She motioned wildly to the door, "Nobody deserves to be pushed to that sort of an end. He should have spent the rest of his life rotting in a jail cell, not… not dying alone and frightened in a hospital bed."

He caught her frantic hand, wrapping it in his own and pushing it down again. His gaze rested on her quietly before he drew a chair over, sitting on it before her. She had no idea what the gesture was supposed to mean, but it certainly wasn't making her feel any better about the whole situation.

Her voice shook as she spoke. "I cannot understand why you see fit to serve this monstrous government. They would take advantage of your kind just as they have with the Talz, and you know that. And yet you choose to support their cause. You know — you must know — of their heinous transgressions against people all over the galaxy, against their own people, whom they have sworn to protect."

He didn't speak right away, as though he wanted to be sure she was done before replying. He inhaled deeply. "Riyo… The people in Imperial dominated regions of the galaxy are very lucky that they are able to claim the Empire is the largest threat they face. Deep in the Unknown Regions, my people face evils much more treacherous, ones that exist with the sole intent of destroying."

"Then what are you doing here? Why would you choose to serve the Empire rather than fight alongside your own people?"

"If that option were available to me, I certainly would. However, it is not. So I am here, with the Empire, preparing to fight that evil through other means."

"What the hell does that even mean? It's not an option for you? Like you were forced to do this? You're just denying responsibility…"

"I am not welcome on my homeworld any longer," he cut her insult short, his stone still calm. "As I said, if it were an option, I would still be with them."

She tried to shake the fog that seemed to shroud her mind. "What?"

He looked at her quietly for a moment. "Exile was one of the first words then Cadet Vanto taught me."

The information left her confused, and slightly nauseated. Or was it the pain medication?

He continued, unaffected by her reaction. "I hold no personal ill will against these Rebels. But when they choose to behave," he motioned to her, to her shoulder, "in such a reckless manner that endangers innocent civilians, it would be wrong of me to do nothing."

"But when the Empire does the same thing? What then? When they enslave entire populations, deplete planets of their natural resources and leave the people to die, that's all fine in your eyes?"

There was another long pause, and he pressed his fingertips together, looking out to the hallway as though he needed to make sure they were alone. "The Empire undoubtedly has committed ethical transgressions I cannot reconcile. With that being said, look at the behavior of these Rebels. I have spent years tracking down a great many of them. They wage war against us on civilian grounds so innocent casualties cannot be avoided. They are reckless and unorganized and have little regard for combat ethics. You are a smart woman Riyo. You could not convince me you do not see the danger of allowing them to have their way. I can't even fathom how they might cobble together a fully functional government worthy of serving and protecting the people of the galaxy. When the evils my people face reach this section of the galaxy - and they will, faster than any of you know - they must be met with strength, or all will be lost."

She wanted so terribly to snap back at him, but couldn't bring herself to. Everything he said made too much sense. The Rebels, as he saw them, were unfit to run a government.

And then there was the matter of his exile… If he chose to cope with it by placing himself within the Empire, doing this all to protect his people from a distance, whatever they faced must have been truly frightening.

The silence between them lasted for some time. Finally, he stood and began to look through a few drawers. "They must have left a clean change of clothing for you. You should go bathe."

She didn't want to look down at her hand or hospital robe — she was certain they were covered.

He located a freshly wrapped robe and set it near the sink in the washroom, then returned to her. He looked at her for a moment. "I am sorry you were involved in this. If you need anything at all, please let me know what I can do."

He left her alone in her room with the quiet, sterile beep of the hospital machines, wondering what his near treasonous confession might have meant. Was it a concession of trust, the thing she'd been after this whole time?

An unrecognizable tension clawed at her chest, so viciously she feared it might break free.