Eli tried to meet his first quota. There was nothing in the Zygerrian guard's promise to "take care" of him that didn't fill Eli with the utmost sense of urgency. But with a broken rib, crippling levels of fear, and a ground-falling-out-from-beneath-him feeling he still couldn't quite shake, he knew it was a doomed endeavor from the start.

Eli figured his "punishment" would be a beating of some kind. The guards carried around electro-whips for a reason. But the reality was far crueler.

First was the humiliation. Or the attempt at it by the guards. They made a big show out of bringing attention to Eli, asking the countless Togruta slaves if they knew their liberator had come down to save them only to wind up in the mine alongside them.

The Zygerrians thought they had found the perfect way to dishearten their slaves. "The Imperial came here to stop us, and look – we are so strong, we have enslaved him instead," was the way they thought of it.

But the Togrutas believed differently, as Eli would come to find out. At the time, though, Eli tried to avoid the hungry, desperate eyes that followed him as the guards decided to parade him around like some kind of prize.

The second punishment was worse. Eli wasn't the only one who hadn't been able to meet the requirements. The Zygerrian guards walked up the line, and as they designated those who had failed, the pleads Eli heard sent a shiver up his spine.

And then it started. Not pain, not an electric shock at his throat, not what Eli was expecting. Instead, the guards went down the line, distributing food. When the guards reached those who had been singled out for not meeting their quota, they passed over them.

Eli stood in stunned silence at the unfairness of it all. They knew he was injured… they knew he couldn't do what they asked, they knew – Eli had bite back his anger and remind himself to keep his indignation in check. He was a slave now. And no one cared what he thought was unfair.

Thankfully, the Zygerrians considered water more of a right than food. The fact that it had only been offered once at the end of the day hardly mattered to Eli in light of his hunger. The mine was hot, and Eli had been sweating – he could feel his bangs clinging to his forehead, and the dampness of his clothes sticking to his skin.

He drank all the water he could, until he felt nauseous from it.

How long he was going to be able to keep this up, Eli had no idea.

"Sleep," a Zygerrian voice commanded, and in unison, the Togrutas laid down on the bare rock, Eli quickly following their example lest he get singled out again. The string of lights above them turned off. And with the except of a lone roving guard, it seemed as though the day was over.

Eli curled up as best as he could on the softest spot of rock he could find, his body trembling from exhaustion.

He could not sleep. On top of the dull aching of sore muscles, Eli's entire body was quivering – his muscles had never been so overworked in his life. And on top of that, he felt as though his entire body was getting stabbed with thousands of sharp needles. The salt from his sweat had dried in his pores, and it was impossible to escape. Even his face throbbed in pain – either from getting punched earlier or from the sheer exertion he'd been put through.

A shape loomed over him in the darkness, and Eli curled up even more.

"Are you really an Imperial?" a voice whispered. It was impossible to see anything in the darkness, but Eli knew it was one of the Togrutas. Her accent was different, for one.

Eli didn't dare to answer. For a moment, he was stunned to hear any of the others talk at all. He'd seen them all wearing similar collars. Unless… of course. He was probably the only one they didn't want talking. The Zygerrians probably didn't want Eli ruining the "demoralization" by telling the other slaves their maters hadn't won some victory huge against the Empire.

"You can't talk?" the voice whispered.

There were other voices whispering. Apparently once the lights were out, a marginal freedom was gained.

Eli felt a hand touching his face and instantly recoiled from it.

"Shhhhh," a voice whispered – a different voice. The hands cupped his head firmly, preventing him from breaking away. He had no idea what was going on, until he felt something press up against his lips. Again he recoiled, until he realized what it was – a morsel of food. He swallowed it without even chewing.

Again, and again, he accepted piece after piece of food, his eyes tearing up at the selflessness of those suffering around him. Eli could hear shuffling all around him, and he could imagine the other slaves drawing nearer, handing forward the scraps they had hidden away for him.

"You can't talk?" the first voice repeated once the food had run out, and Eli shook his head no.

Whoever was touching his face whispered, "He says no."

"But you are an Imperial, right?"

Eli nodded, and heard the owner of the hands feeling his face for responses whispered, "He says yes."

"And you were coming to save us?"

Nodding would be a lie, Eli knew, but if the Zygerrians were eager to perpetuate the lie, Eli wasn't about to deny them.

"He says yes!"

A murmur of excitement whispered down the mine shaft.

"Is… anyone coming to save you?"

Eli didn't know how to answer that. He thought immediately of Thrawn. And Thrawn would never give up. He would chase the clues… he'd figure it out… he'd find the ISB agent who had pretended to execute him – and surely Thrawn would figure out that it was all a ruse, right? – and Thrawn would get him to reveal where Eli was.

Eli nodded.

And so the Zygerrian's attempt to demoralize their slaves was turned against them. The wave of relief from those surrounding Eli was nearly palpable.

"Don't worry," one of the voices whispered. "We'll take care of you."

And at that, Eli really did cry.

The next day, the Zygerrians decided swinging a pick axe actually wasn't the best job Eli could do, and they moved him to pushing a mine cart. It was a much worse job psychically, as the cart got nearly too heavy for him to manage. But on the bright side, Eli got to eat every day.

Eli would find himself getting slipped a morsel of food – a sliver of bread crust or a cube of meat. He'd gulp it down without even tasting it, lest the guards find out. At first Eli couldn't understand the altruism, and figured it would go away with time. It didn't. Even if Eli had "failed" to save them, the Togrutas seemed be have an endless supply of gratitude that he was there.

Days turned into weeks, and Eli began to lose hope. If it wasn't for that altruism, Eli was fairly certain he wouldn't have survived the depression which consumed him. His thoughts began to dwell almost exclusively on Thrawn, and his heart would cry out to the universe every moment for his rescue to come.

And each night, when he was alone with his thoughts in the darkness, his exhausted body trembling, Eli would wonder - when was Thrawn going to figure out where he was and save him?

He refused to consider the other explanation for Thrawn's lateness – that perhaps he wasn't even looking for him at all.

-SWR-

Hera had all but pushed her brief encounter with Eli Vanto to the back of her mind.

There had been other missions, other obligations, and over the months, she even found herself thinking less and less often about her own imprisonment. That is, until she saw a blue-skinned, red-eyed alien wearing the uniform of an Imperial Grand Admiral standing within the halls of her childhood home.

"Who was that blue guy?" Ezra asked once they were safely in a lift.

"I… don't know," Hera said, her mind racing.

Her conversations with Eli had mostly been dedicated to plans for escape. When that topic wasn't on the table, Eli seemed far more curious about her, and the Jedi than revealing anything about himself.
Most of what Hera knew about Eli's alien counterpart was from the taunts of the other guards and the ISB agent who had pretended to execute him.

your dear alien…your precious little Grand Admiral

Really, it narrowed it down fairly easily. Hera had no idea there even was an alien Grand Admiral in the Imperial Navy. The idea that there might be two of them was even more absurd.

But… Hera strained her memory. The ISB agent had also said that this alien had ordered Eli's execution. Unless that had been a trick – something thrown together to get Eli to turn against his lover.

"Well… how are we going to get out of here?" Ezra asked, bringing Hera back to the present.

"There's a secret exit on the lower level," Hera said.

Escaping her Imperially-controlled home was their first priority, though Hera was getting increasingly curious about this alien Grand Admiral. He certainly didn't look very happy from the brief impression Hera was able to get. And if he was resentful over what the Empire had done?
Perhaps he'd even be willing to consider defecting to the Rebellion.

-SWR-

Hera's idea of asking Thrawn to join the Rebellion was short lived.

First was the fact that he had interceded when Captain Slavin had sent her away, effectively ending her escape. And asking for her opinion on "our Imperial occupation" made it sound like Thrawn still thought of himself as part of the Empire. Though at that point, Hera was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he interceded only because he wanted a chance to speak with her? Perhaps he hadn't intended for Captain Slavin to follow them into his office?

Taunting her about the trials of her upbringing and revealing her actual identity was the point of no return. Hera glared daggers at the Imperial alien as he effortlessly worked out who she was by connecting her desire to steal a kalikori with the kalikori's place in Twi'lek culture.

And then going even further and spelling out for Captain Slavin that she was his nemesis's daughter? It was obvious Grand Admiral Thrawn had no intentions of being anything more than what he was – a tool of the Empire.
Even though he looked strained, and exhausted, and sounded like he was emotionally dead inside – even though he only sounded like he was actually thrilled to be alive as he was making connections about what her stealing the kalikori meant – Hera had made up her mind.

Either Thrawn had ordered the execution of Eli Vanto, or he simply did not care.

And that was painful to consider, too. The Eli Vanto she remembered was kind and gentle… what he'd ever seen in this blue monster was beyond her ability to comprehend. Unless he'd been led on… used as a tool to reach the pinnacles of power and was discarded when he became inconvenient. Or could take his place in prison for breaking the interspecies relationships law.

She nearly considered saying something to the Grand Admiral as she dragged an unconscious Ezra into a detention cell. Something spiteful. Something to release the pressure of anger building up inside of her. But she held her tongue.

Even as Ezra came to… even as they made their escape. Even as the Ghost flew off of Ryloth back for the safety of the Rebel base, Hera's thoughts were becoming singularly focused on a new mission.

She had to find out where Eli Vanto had been taken.

Hera had the feeling that they were going to need all the help they were going to get to bring this alien Grand Admiral down.