Chapter 10: A New Perspective
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"As the conflict that decides our galaxy escalates, we cannot lose perspective on the value of life and the price of freedom." —Bail Organa
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With stunned eyes, Ezra watched Grand Admiral Thrawn's form fizzle away to be replaced by a void of blue nothingness. The empty light from Chopper's holo-projector shimmered throughout the lounge. The droid rotated his head toward Hera but found her eyes wide and fixated upon her Kalikori.
The lounge was so quiet except for Rukh's heavy breathing as he covered and rubbed at his eyes with his left hand. Even though Ezra couldn't understand the melodic language that Thrawn spoke, he could still feel the echo of weight behind the words.
Thrawn must have said goodbye, Ezra thought.
"Rukh?" Ezra quietly prompted. He observed Rukh with sympathetic eyes.
Rukh released a hitched breath and lowered his left hand to his lap. His glossy eyes focused upon the floor as his brow spoke of sorrow and regret. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again and shook his head.
Sabine lowered her head slightly to catch his eyes with her own. "Can you tell us what happened, Rukh?"
"And… what this all means?" Zeb asked, leaning forward on the couch.
"I… need a moment," Rukh whispered, not yet ready to trust his voice should it completely betray his emotion.
"Okay," Sabine whispered, rubbing his back again. She looked up and met the gaze of Ezra, Zeb and then Hera as if asking what to do.
Hera took a step forward. She absent-mindedly rubbed her Kalikori as she considered Rukh with a new gaze of understanding. Her green eyes no longer spoke with the suspicion of an adversary, but now beheld an ensemble of compassion.
She turned to Chopper.
"Chop, what else is on the datachip?" Hera said.
A low hum emitted from Chopper as his processors spun through the datachip. Once again, garbled code appeared on the holo-projection, and star charts filled with pixelated data and distorted images flashed quickly. It didn't seem to make sense.
"Bwir bwir bhwahh…," Chopper warbled quickly.
What appeared to be the most recent entry was paused on the projection. It was pixelated and formless, seemingly corrupted like the other entries.
"Corruption," Hera mumbled.
"Yeah, surely those numbers are wrong," Zeb said.
"I failed him again…," Rukh whispered.
Hera found Rukh looking up at the holo-projection. He tentatively met her gaze after a moment.
"Rukh?" Hera said, moving toward the short table in front of the couch. She knelt and leaned forward, propping her forearms on the small table and placing her Kalikori upon its surface.
"What happened?" Hera softly prompted, looking up at him with knowing eyes as she rested on the floor.
Rukh briefly narrowed his eyes.
"I had to cut the data transfer early," Rukh began slowly, swallowing visibly. His mind traveled back to the past. "Thrawn took the Chimaera to a project site. He was concerned about its threat to his people and his plans, and he needed to investigate.
"But Lord Vader intercepted us before…," Rukh's voice trailed off and he took a deep breath. Rukh looked to the side and blinked slowly. Kanan crossed his arms and grimaced as he reached out through the Force.
"Thrawn had the ship's database purged," Rukh continued. "I think to protect the crew… And everything scanned was left to a tablet he gave to Commodore Faro to deliver to his office.
"I think he knew—…" Rukh stopped himself before going down that train of thought. He took another deep breath, willing himself to focus on the facts of his memory.
"I was transferring the data from the tablet, but I had to stop and activate my cloak," Rukh said, eyes unfocusing. "There wasn't enough time before they arrived. Something… must have happened between Thrawn and Vader on the bridge."
Rukh balled his hand into a fist upon his lap as he continued, his voice carrying subtle anger.
"Vader attacked without warning. He was able to see me, and I flew back into a wall… The next thing I remember is waking to the sounds of struggle."
Rukh's left fist began to shake, and his eyes widened in subtle horror. Everyone in the lounge was paralyzed at Rukh's words and at his sudden change in demeanor from anger to horror. His voice became small.
"I awoke to… He couldn't breath, Vader was too powerful… Thrawn was letting go…"
-.-
Labored gasps— Pained crimson eyes, fluttering closed—
Hands letting go—
A red glow upon blue skin— Malice—
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"Hey…," Ezra whispered.
Rukh flinched and came back from his memory. Ezra held Rukh's left shoulder gently, and Sabine gave Rukh a concerned smile. Rukh realized he must have paused for a little while.
"I… activated sentry droids to defend us," Rukh said quietly, blinking quickly. "Vader dropped Thrawn…" Rukh let out a hushed breath, and his voice became small. "He coughed up so much blood… I was going to attack, but he stopped me—
"Told me to run… to enact his contingency." Rukh looked away in shame and grimaced in sorrow. "I shouldn't have left him behind…"
Rukh clinched his eyes shut and shook his head. Hera narrowed her eyes, her gaze glistening tenderly.
"What… did Thrawn say to you," Hera asked. She gestured her head toward Chopper. "In the recording, if I may ask?"
Rukh met her gaze.
He held her eyes for a moment, and Hera could feel pain held within the essence of his soul. He eventually spoke with intense sorrow and respect.
"He released me from service," Rukh said with stuttered breath. "And told me not to be burdened and—" Rukh let out a sorrowfully bitter huff, holding back tears. "He wished we would part in friendship."
Rukh dared not look any of Phoenix Squadron in the eye. He stared down at the ground and breathed heavily while trying to maintain control of his emotion.
Hera bit the side of her bottom lip as she watched, while Sabine patted at her own eyes in empathy. Ezra held Rukh's left shoulder still, hoping to project strength.
Kanan, his arms still crossed and standing behind Hera, lowered his chin and gestured toward Rukh. He still felt questions and pleading from the Force.
"What was his contingency Rukh?" Kanan asked.
Rukh looked up at the Jedi.
"You."
-.-.-.-
"Zahara… hey…"
Stormtrooper Commander Ayer's voice was a gentle beacon. It washed away and shielded Zahara from judgmental eyes held within the harsh white light of the Chimaera's medical bay.
The same voice that commanded stormtroopers into battle with vigorous purpose became a tender anchor that steadied Zahara amidst the turmoil of her mind.
Ayer saw her relax, her shoulders slightly lower, but he felt her tense under his gentle grip now in another uncertain but present way. She held her breath.
Ayer saw so many thoughts course through her in seconds, her brow wrinkling. Her hands trembled within his own armored gloves, still holding onto the oxygen mask.
Zahara exhaled part of the breath she was holding and looked up.
Ayer found her eyes. They were filled with fear and wide with guilt and sorrow. Ayer took in an unsteady breath at the sight and narrowed his own gentle eyes.
"Hey…," Ayer said. "It's okay—"
She cut him off from speaking as she lunged forward into his arms. Her hands released the oxygen mask to the floor as she curled them together to her chest. Her body met the armored torso of Major Ayer, pushing him back a step as he was unprepared for her embrace.
Zahara didn't care. She buried her head into his shoulder and trembled.
Ayer held her. Despite the rigidness of his stormtrooper armor, Zahara found comfort in his embrace.
"Is there somewhere we could go and talk?" Ayer asked, his chin somewhat buried in her curly hair. She smelled of the purest flowers blooming upon a summer evening.
A nurse knelt in front of them, beginning to pick up the medical instruments from the floor. She gestured behind them and said quietly, "The first ready-room should be clear if you wanted some privacy, sir."
Ayer nodded at the nurse.
"Thank you," Ayer said, slightly pulling away from Zahara. "Let's go, follow—"
Commotion from the medical bay entrance interrupted him, and he flinched toward the noise, alert, though still holding Zahara as she trembled. He saw a crowd of nurses ushering someone inside the bay. His heart dropped as the crowd parted, and he recognized who needed help.
Commodore Faro staggered forward, clutching a bloody right hand. Her entire arm and part of the front of her uniform was covered and stained red. Faro's face was pale, as if she was ready to pass out.
"Zahara," Ayer said forcefully, patting her back gently to get her attention.
Zahara felt the strain in his voice and looked up. Her eyes went wide at the sight of Commodore Faro.
Immediately Zahara leapt into action as Chief Medical Officer, compartmentalizing and leaving her shattered state of mind behind. She moved toward Faro with concern and authority, grabbing onto her arms and assessing the damage.
"To trauma room one now!" Zahara ordered.
Faro's eyes rolled backward, and her knees suddenly buckled. Ayer caught Faro by the waist and underneath a shoulder. He met Zahara's eyes.
"Follow me," Zahara said with authority.
Ayer scooped Commodore Faro into his arms and followed Zahara to trauma room one.
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Faro sat at the edge of a medical bed and watched Zahara methodically wrap her hand. She breathed slowly and deeply, steadying herself.
Faro's gaze moved to the IV in her left arm. The sleeve of her uniform was ripped and cut hastily to provide access to her artery. An IV line currently fed her body precious blood and nutrients to replace what was lost.
Faro felt eyes watching her. She moved her gaze and found Stormtrooper Commander Ayer leaning against the far wall, watching her with crossed arms. His expression was guarded yet his eyes spoke of turmoil and judgement.
Faro also saw a spark of loyalty however… loyalty she felt she still didn't deserve.
And Ayer's eyes seemed to suspect her guilt. They held each other's gaze, Faro's eyes silently warning against questions, Ayer's glinting back and asking anyway.
"That should do it," Zahara said with a contented sigh.
Faro averted her gaze and saw her hand and wrist completely bandaged. Zahara smoothed over the bandage's surface, making sure it was secure.
"A new uniform is being delivered here as well to replace the one you're wearing," Zahara added, meeting Faro's eyes kindly, yet holding a knowingly haunted echo of what they experienced together.
"Thank you," Faro said. She took a deep breath as Zahara rose to put the bandage supplies away. "How long until the transfusion is complete?"
"Oh, I would say about thirty minutes Commodore," Zahara said. She pulled a jar of ointment and pain pills from a drawer and showed them to Faro. "I'll prescribe these pills to help with the pain over the next week or so, and the ointment should be placed over the wound every twelve hours."
Faro seemed to hesitate.
"If you'd rather me re-wrap the bandage, feel free to visit me here in the medical bay," Zahara said, as Faro regarded the pills and ointment with scrunched brows.
"The three of us should speak," Ayer said, cutting through the Imperial mantra of the moment.
His piercing eyes were focused upon Faro, and Faro sat up straight and met his eyes with knowing authority. Ayer didn't back down though, and Zahara faced them both anxiously, leaning on a counter.
"Permission to speak freely Commodore?" Ayer asked, an edge to his voice. His demeanor was vibrating with barely contained energy.
Faro's eyes narrowed a moment.
"Granted, Major," Faro said finally.
"What in blazes happened?" Ayer hissed in passioned whisper.
Zahara eyed Ayer and then Commodore Faro nervously, remembering Vader's words of warning. It took most of her mental strength to keep from falling into the grasp of another attack of anxiety. She looked down and focused on the floor. Ayer noticed.
Faro regarded Ayer for another strained moment, both in a silent stalemate.
"For the sake of the crew—"
"Don't give me that," Ayer interrupted with a bitter huff, tilting and shaking his head. His eyes were glassy and hurt, yet held passionate strength.
"I saw…" Ayer pointed to the ground and stepped forward in his passion, "…him before Vader took him…" Ayer gestured to Zahara and glanced at her with pained eyes threatening to spill over. "…saw her eyes—…"
Faro looked down and held up her right hand to stop him.
Zahara flinched at Faro's movement. "Careful…," Zahara said emotionally.
Faro tilted her head to the side, glanced at her hand, and then gazed at the ground for a quick moment, remembering the carnage upon which she fell… and the cause of that carnage. She took in a hitched breath and lowered her injured hand to her lap.
Faro raised glossy eyes filled with the haunted burden of leadership toward Ayer's own burdened orbs.
"For the sake of the crew," Faro began slowly again in earnest, her eyebrows raised. "What I say cannot go beyond us three, nor can it leave this room."
Ayer took a deep breath and nodded. He looked down in submission and held the bridge of his nose. He crossed his arms and looked up with pained eyes as Faro began speaking again.
"Grand Admiral Thrawn was indeed… removed from command by Lord Vader," Faro said.
"Why?" Ayer asked, almost pleading.
"Vader…," Faro shook her head. "I don't believe it…, but Lord Vader accused the Grand Admiral of espionage against the Empire. You must understand the scrutiny the rest of us are under, yes?"
Zahara's and Ayer's eyes went wide as if just realizing the danger.
"We have a responsibility to the rest of the crew that I'm sure Grand Admiral Thrawn would want us to uphold," Faro continued through strained emotion.
"And nothing can be done?" Ayer asked after another breath.
Faro shook her head and was about to respond, but she was cut off by Major Ayer's holo-communicator. It suddenly emitted an emergency level trill startling the three of them.
Ayer scrambled for the device on his belt and held it up for the three of them to see the message. He hesitated a moment and then clicked a button to receive the transmission.
The rotating emblem of the Empire appeared, pulsing red. Then dread filled Faro's, Ayer's, and Zahara's hearts as images of Grand Admiral Thrawn and the Chimaera were displayed.
"Citizens of the glorious Empire, I bring to you today news of a particularly dire nature," holojournalist Alton Kastle stated, with just the right amount of horror in his smooth voice. "Word has just been received that renowned military leader…"
"Well that was fast…," Faro whispered in dismay.
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The Ghost's lounge sparkled with the blue light of Chopper's holoprojector once again. Everyone watched in dread and utter surprise as images of Grand Admiral Thrawn and his Imperial Star Destroyer were displayed in an emergency level Imperial broadcast against the voice of holojournalist Alton Kastle.
"Reports do not state the nature of his injuries..., though one can assume after having read the specs for Imperial Sentinel Droids…," holojournalist Alton Kastle said in practiced and muted horror. Rukh grimaced in sorrowed anger at the propaganda.
"But Grand Admiral Thrawn is being transported aboard the ISD Devastator with haste to medical facilities on Coruscant. We wish for his recovery. Rest assured that the glorious Empire will not allow this terror to spread. The HoloNet will continue to follow this shocking and developing story."
The broadcast returned to a rotating emblem of the Empire. Sabine and Ezra still surrounded Rukh with support, and he shook his head.
Hera's heart started racing.
"I must speak with Senator Mon Mothma right away," Hera said.
She rushed to her feet. Chopper turned his holoprojector off and followed her into the cockpit.
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**Translation from previous chapter:**
Ch'ah tovun'csivci csah vah cat veo raszi. «I release you from your service.»
Vah viz k'ir na. «You have done well.»
K'ir nah tir veo g'evipah lishah vah. «Do not let what happened burden you.»
Tir nen tisci can ch'acevasi. «Let us part in friendship.»
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