Chapter 8: The Admiral
There was something stark, primitive and severe about the Mandalorians, something buried deep within their genetic makeup that made them peerless warriors, though not necessarily perfect soldiers, which was why the Kaminoan cloners had bred the Republic's clone army to be more docile than their vicious Mandalorian original. They were fierce, wildly independent, and despite the fact that they historically spent a great deal fighting each other, they all followed the same code, the same guideline for living, the same six principles that set them on the path of the warrior from their infancy. Even with the rise of the pacifist New Mandalorians in the years before the Clone Wars, and then with the rise of the Mandalorian Empire under the banner of peace and refined sophistication, Mandalore remained at its core a brutal and harsh warrior culture. It wasn't such an easy thing to fight against hundreds of thousands of years of tradition, a culture shaped by war and adversity and conquest.
This severe mentality was so ingrained in the Mandalorian psyche that it permeated everything about their culture, from their food and architecture to their government and religion and, perhaps most importantly to the discerning eyes of Admiral Thrawn, their art. The creative expression of their cultural identity documented in paintings and music and sculptures, all of it harsh and staccato, all of it done in sharp, impressionist lines, all of it built in clean, orderly cubism, the physical representation of the Mandalorian consciousness. It was a thing of beauty, one to be admired and respected, one that did what the Empire did long before the smooth, curving elegance of Republic sophistication and grace gave way to Imperial austerity which, perhaps, was in part the reason that the Mandalorians enjoyed such freedom under the Empire. They didn't need to be converted or changed. Theirs was the way of Imperial might from the start.
Thrawn looked up at the woman that sat upon the throne in the long, cold hall of Sundari Palace, a dark and suffocating place that hung with an air of oppression, an almost spiritual reminder of the horrid brutality that had happened in these halls over fifteen years ago. Moff Bo-Katan wasn't a prisoner, not in the conventional sense. The Empire wouldn't allow such a thing, especially not with her close relationship with Grand Moff Tarkin. To Thrawn, that was acceptable. Encouraged, even, as treachery could be best rooted out were the source kept close, and in his estimation, there was definitely something going on with the Moff of Mandalore. She may have been free of chains, but Bo-Katan Kryze was a prisoner of the Empire in all things, and based on her frosty disposition at the Chiss' presence, it was obvious that she knew it as well, and was reacting exactly as any Mandalorian would. With cold, bitter defiance.
Thrawn couldn't help but wonder if dealing with Bo-Katan's deceased, prodigious sister had been a different affair. Legend had a way of altering the facts, especially when the person in question was being viewed with living memory, a emotional thing that often got in the way of the truth. Satine had been said to be patient and peaceful, a woman of compromise and understanding, which severely contrasted her Mandalorian heritage. If that was true, such a woman could never have united her warring people under a single banner, even if backed by the fabled Shadow King. Fear was not a motivator to the Mandalorians, and in all their history, they never once united behind a Mand'alor out of fear. The warring clans united only behind one who had earned the coveted title. He couldn't help but wonder what it was that Satine Kryze had done to unite Mandalore when they had no business with unity after their bloody civil war. And what had Bo-Katan done to garner the same respect?
"I thank you for making the time to meet with me, Mand'alor Kryze," Thrawn said respectfully, watching with interest as the woman's green eyes narrowed, her hands on the arms of her throne clenching in anger.
"I did not make the time," Bo-Katan spat. "I was obligated." She flicked her hand dismissively in the air as if trying to get rid of something that clung to her. "Say what you came to say and begone. I have duties I must attend to."
"As do we all, Mand'alor," Thrawn said, bowing respectfully and straightening up, his hands clasped behind his back. "I arrived in your city earlier than scheduled and spent the better part of the morning in your art museum. I must confess, these past few years, the history of your people has become something of a fascination." A slight, excited smile spread across the Admiral's face, despite Bo-Katan's deepening frown. "An entire race of people, united in worship of a god of destruction, adversity and progress, ever in battle with a god of sloth and stagnation, later evolving into worshiping the act of war itself as divine."
"Is this why you came to me, Admiral?" Bo-Katan asked, highly irritated to be kept from her work, but not angry because of the interest. "Did you simply come to wax romantic about Mandalore's glorious past? I hate to break it to you, but that time is over. We all serve the Empire now. The glory of Mandalore died with Satine and the Shadow King."
"The Resol'nare," Thrawn continued as if Bo-Katan hadn't spoken, "the tenants by which all true Mandalorians live. Six sacred laws to bring purpose and direction to your warrior people." He indicated to the walls, decorated with murals and reliefs out of Mandalore's history. "Wear armor, speak Mando'a, defend yourself and your family, raise your children as Mandalorians, contribute to your clan's welfare, obey the call of the Mand'alor..."
"Ni kar'taylir te Resol'nare, aruetii." I know the Resol'nare, outsider.
Thrawn smirked, a soft chuckle on his breath as he looked at the woman. "Cuy' Ni an aruetii meh Ni kir'manir gar ara? Cuy' Ni Mando'a meh Ni urmankalar te vencuyot gar haa'taylir?"
Bo-Katan's jaw dropped. "...you speak Mando'a?" she asked softly, and the Chiss just smirked.
"As I said, I have been studying your culture for a few years now." He smiled. "I am a great admirer of your people, Mand'alor. Yours is a culture that breeds strength, from generation to generation, one that teaches the virtues of progress through adversity, one that cautions against the sloth and stagnation and weakness that peace brings. You are forged in the fires of battles and conflict." He stepped closer to the throne, the woman's awe quickly fading into caution. "Much like another culture I have been studying as of late. Much like the Sith."
"My people have been allies of the Sith for thousands and thousands of years, Admiral," Bo-Katan said, her voice low and warning. "Our similar beliefs drew us together against the weakness of the Jedi time and time again."
"Until it didn't," Thrawn said softly. "Until your people broke with their ancient allies, a factor, no doubt, in the Sith's eventual extinction." He smirked knowingly. "Until your sister and her rogue Jedi rekindled that alliance. Until her Shadow King. Until Obi-Wan Kenobi."
"And now, I uphold that alliance by integrating Mandalore into the Empire," Bo-Katan snarled. "Unless you have forgotten that Emperor Palpatine employs Sith to uphold the integrity of the Empire. Lord Vader, Maul, the Inquisitors, all Force sensitive beings in service to our Empire, all enemies of the traitorous Jedi, as we all are."
"As Obi-Wan is," Thrawn said in his impassive voice. "Is he not a Sith Lord as well?"
"Careful, Thrawn..." Bo-Katan warned. "I dislike your tone, and you stand before the Mand'alor. I don't need the Death Watch to kill you, but they would be in here in a moment were I to call. They are all a bit jumpy after we all had failed my sister so terribly."
Thrawn placatingly put up his hands. "I meant no offense, Mand'alor. I merely wish to glean what I can from you about this...Shadow King." He smiled softly. "Certainly he is of some concern to you."
"He isn't," Bo-Katan snapped. "I earned my place as Mand'alor. All true children of Mandalore follow me. Those that do not are dar'Manda." Thrawn nodded slowly. It was the worst thing a Mandalorian could be, a child born to Mandalore that had abandoned their culture, their heritage, and therefore had lost their soul. In this, he believed her. All Mandalorians would follow fearless Bo-Katan. The question now was who would Bo-Katan follow?
"And Obi-Wan-"
"Obi-Wan is dead!" she hissed, standing from her throne tall and proud and furiously angry. Thrawn cooly met her gaze. Obi-Wan's death was one of the biggest secrets the Empire kept, and one that Kenobi himself seemed to embrace. As soon as his stand in had been publically and brutally executed, Kenobi changed tactics, going from mild, anonymous irritant to the destructive Shadow King, taking up the mantle he had once cast away. Thrawn could count on one hand the people within the Imperial command that knew about Kenobi's survival, and one of those was Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin. Given the rumors about the man's relationship to the Mandalorian firecracker, Thrawn felt it was likely that Bo-Katan knew as well, though it wasn't just because of that. Tarkin, it so happened, could keep a secret, and keep it well. There was no reason to believe that he would share such sensitive information with a lover, no matter how high up in the Imperial ranks she may be. If the rumors were true, which Thrawn highly doubted.
No, he believed Bo-Katan knew because she was there the night it rained Geonosians upon Coruscant, turning an Empire Day celebration into a horror. She saw the holoprojection of the smug, triumphant Obi-Wan, he had addressed her directly, and from the way she spoke, she knew about his youthful appearance. She wouldn't have been fooled by the Empire's imitation.
"You don't believe that," Thrawn said softly in his eerie monotone, and Bo-Katan gave him a look that said in no uncertain terms that the Chiss was wrong. He drew back slightly. Had he somehow been mistaken?
"Obi-Wan is dead," she said again through clenched teeth. "My Shadow King is dead, his spirit gone to join the Manda with my sister and his unborn son. That...thing wearing Obi-Wan's armor is not the man I knew. He is dar'Manda." She growled deeply, and he could see her anger swiftly rising. "No, he is worse than that. He is a shell, a soulless vessel. His spirit left to be with his family, but his body remained as a tool of vengeance. He is destruction without purpose. Nothing more." Her face fell, and she slunk back into her throne. "Nothing of who he was is left. Satine took that all with her to the Manda when she was slain."
"And this...new Shadow King?" Thrawn quietly asked, and the woman slowly shook her head.
"I know nothing about him," she muttered under her breath. "But if I had to guess, I'd say it's Kenobi. Everything he's done feels like his hand."
"I arrived at the same conclusion." He took a step closer to the throne when he saw the Mand'alor's previous anger and irritation was gone, but without it, she looked no less imposing, no less regal than she had when fueled by anger. Thrawn was beginning to have an idea why the warrior Mandalorians followed her, even when she gave up their independence to join the Empire. "That puts you in a unique position. There are very few left in this galaxy that knew him personally. Our interrogation of the Jedi Master Luminara Unduli yielded nothing on the matter."
"And I'm afraid this interrogation will give you similar results," Bo-Katan said swiftly. "I never saw much of Obi-Wan. He was here for my sister, not for me, and as soon as she was gone, he never came back." Her face hardened considerably. "We needed him. Our Empire had fallen, our Mand'alor was dead, we had adopted him into our culture, our way of life. He was Mandalorian." She scoffed bitterly. "And he left us. He used our armies to exact revenge against those that killed Satine, and when his revenge was complete, he threw us away. I became Mand'alor because I had to. It should have been Obi-Wan."
"And now, he has returned," Thrawn said softly. "The Shadow King, risen once again with the promise to call Mandalore to his side soon enough." Thrawn took a few of the steps, drawing closer to the woman. "Tell me, Moff Bo-Katan. What will your people do? Which Mand'alor will they follow? And what will you do when Obi-Wan calls upon you to stand by his side?"
"I am Mand'alor," she said firmly. "All true Mandalorians will follow me, but there will be those that leave to join the Shadow King." She shrugged. "I doubt it will matter much. His forces will not be enough, not to stand against the might of the Empire."
"Even if he had all the might of Mand'alor, the Shadow King will fail," Thrawn said softly. "Emperor Palpatine believes we can crush any opposition through strength in number alone."
"And what do you believe?" Bo-Katan asked, a slight smirk on her lips that Thrawn returned.
"I believe he is correct," he said, folding his hands behind his back. "The Mandalorians alone could not achieve victory against the Empire, were they to rise against us, even with a powerful leader at their head. However..." he said slowly, measuring his words carefully. "As you Mandalorians say, haatyc or'arue jate'shya ori'sol aru'ike nuhaatyc. Better one big enemy you can see than many small ones you cannot. This Shadow King seems to be something of a master at being small and unseen. Were he to have an army, casualties would be very high, and his defeat would come at a very high cost."
"But you believe he can be defeated?"
A slight smile tugged at the corner of Thrawn's mouth as he looked at this woman, the sister of the departed Satine, the last of the family that Kenobi had left. She needed to be kept under close watch, her every action suspect, her loyalty tested, but not by him, and not now. To Thrawn, it was irrelevant. What mattered was that Kenobi would come for her, as he came for all those he once called close, all those he held dear, and he would certainly come for the little sister of his Duchess, and he would come for her soon. Thrawn would make certain of it. "No man is without weakness, Mand'alor Bo-Katan. Not even Obi-Wan Kenobi."
Bo-Katan began speaking but was quickly cut off by a sharp notification chime from Thrawn's belt, and the Chiss swiftly snatched a datapad from the back of his belt, a slight frown on his face as he read it and, quickly concluding, nodded and smiled slightly, his red eyed gaze returning to Bo-Katan. "Tell me, Mand'alor, what do you know about the recent rebel insurgency near the Outer Rim world of Lothal?"
"Nothing," she said swiftly. "You'll have to ask Wilhuff, the Outer Rim is his territory." Thrawn's faint smile grew wider. A first name basis bespoke of familiarity, and to use it so casually in front of an inferior was telling. A slip, even, judging from the woman's near imperceptible grimace. She may well be a secret traitor to the Empire, but her closeness with Grand Moff Tarkin was undeniable. Everyone was suspect, and not even Governor Tarkin was safe from investigation. If there was anything there, in time, Thrawn would find it. But the situation was a delicate one, the Mandalorians a possible crisis waiting to happen. Bo-Katan's safety needed to be guaranteed. If she was lost, no doubt the entire sector would fly to the Shadow King, and if given too much leash, it seemed just as likely that Bo-Katan would join Kenobi as well. She needed to be kept under a tight guard, as Tarkin had been doing for the past years. It was good work, even if his actions were motivated by different things.
"Perhaps I will," he mused, bowing slightly as he backed away from the woman. "I fear duty calls me away, though I do hope that we may meet again soon. In a less formal setting, perhaps. To learn about the Mandalorians from the Mand'alor herself would be a great honor." He smiled slightly. "I believe our Empire could benefit greatly by adopting some of your practices, most notably those of inclusion and adoption."
Bo-Katan looked him over carefully, taking in his blue skin and eerie red eyes on otherwise human features. A Chiss. She had hardly noticed before how rare, how unusual it was to be speaking to an Imperial soldier that wasn't human, and that he held rank was...unheard of, and a very high rank, no less. It wasn't like that on Mandalore. Their culture adopted anyone that adhered to and embraced their laws and customs, and after the Clone Wars, her own work with Bail Organa's relief organization and Kenobi's conquest of Hutt Space for his adoptive people, Mandalore found itself flooded with hundreds of different species, refugees and war orphans desperate for a new home. They found one in Mandalore, and they had become some of the nation's greatest supporters and most fervent warriors.
Race amounted to nothing. They were Mandalorian, or they were not, and where they came from was ultimately irrelevant. Bo-Katan's current top three commanders of Death Watch attested to the diversity of her people, and consisted of an unaltered clone of the Mandalorian Jango Fett, born in a tube and raised on Kamino, an avian Rishii, and an aquatic, shark-like Karkarodon. Of the three, two of those were Force sensitive, among the older of the younglings that had been smuggled out of the Jedi Temple the night of the slaughter. It was no wonder Thrawn admired Mandalore. He was forced to exist in a galaxy where humans were considered superior in all things, which made his position all the more impressive. His talent must have been so apparent that not even Palpatine could pass him by.
"I imagine it's difficult being the only non-human in Imperial command," Bo-Katan said, and a slight, sly smile crossed Thrawn's lips. "With the way the Empire treats non-humans, it's a wonder you aren't manning a trash compactor somewhere."
"I believe that in every system, the exceptional and the extraordinary will rise to the top, but within the Empire, yes, one must be beyond exceptional if they have not the privilege of being human. I care about performance and results. Nothing more." Bo-Katan scoffed.
"With views like that, it's a wonder you didn't join us here on Mandalore."
"And Mandalore is a pert of the Empire." He smiled faintly. "And I believe in the vision of an Empire. There are millions of species in this galaxy of ours, with millions of viewpoints, all informed by their own cultural understanding and philosophies. It's too vast, too diverse to hold power together for long. A single ruler must be wise enough to adopt ideas and methods from all its allies, from all the species that make up the Empire. But there must be a single voice, or there is only chaos." He chuckled softly. "A vast, diverse people, all following the will of a single mind. Mandalorian diversity and pride under the united banner of our Empire. I cannot imagine greater strength."
"You would have liked my sister." Thrawn bowed his head.
"A multitude breeds discourse," Thrawn said. "Mand'alor Satine said that in one of her more famous addresses, I believe."Bo-Katan slowly nodded. "You're right. I would have liked her. Another time, perhaps, I should like to discuss it."
"Oh, I should very much like that." With a respectful bow, Thrawn turned to leave the throne room. Bo-Katan Kryze may have been serving the Empire for over fifteen years, but Thrawn would wager his command ship and his rank that the Mand'alor was in league with the Shadow King. It was the only thing that made sense. With her sister held by her in such high regard, no Mandalorian would ever decry her beloved Satine's lover and father of her child as dar'Manda, not after he had avenged their Empress and delivered them a new Empire when their old one collapsed.
The situation was a dangerous one, but since Kenobi hadn't acted, only made his presence known, had promised to call, but had not yet demanded it of Mandalore, it was very likely that he was waiting for something, and wouldn't act for some time. Certainly not within the few months it would take to entrap Bo-Katan to lure him out. It was bait that Thrawn knew Kenobi would take. Both codes he followed demanded it, and his actions to save Luminara confirmed it. Now it was just a matter of setting a trap that the Force sensitive Obi-Wan could not escape from.
No sooner had he left the throne room did Thrawn see Grand Moff Tarkin swiftly striding toward him and the Chiss very respectfully inclined his head. The man was his superior, after all, and alongside Darth Vader, stood at the Emperor's right hand. He suspected that it was possible the man was cross with him for having the gall to demand a private audience with the woman the Moff seemed to covet. He had grown used to defending his actions against military equals and superiors, though there were few that stood above him now, his rank seemed to hold less influence because of his race. It didn't bother him much. In time, he would rise above even them, and when he did, he would show them how a true superior conducted themselves.
He wasn't elevated simply by the power of his ambition or political prowess because he couldn't have that kind of influence in the human-centric environment of Coruscant. He was elevated because he was good, because he wasn't too proud to accept and use ideas from others simply because they weren't his, because he was smart enough to know when to push for victory, or when one could glean more information from an enemy in a strategic retreat. The Emperor recognized this personally, and for it, he was rewarded, and would be again after he proved his worth yet again against Kenobi and his allies.
To his surprise, Tarkin wasn't angry, cross, or even slightly standoffish. He was simply curious, a slight nervous energy surrounding him. Concern for the extremely valuable Mand'alor, no doubt, though Thrawn suspected it was far more than just the protection of an asset.
"How goes your investigation, Admiral?" Tarkin asked, his hands folded tightly behind his back, his shoulders tense. "Was Moff Kryze of use to you?"
"She was very helpful, yes," he said softly. "I should like to meet with her again at a later date. Duty calls me away to the Outer Rim, a supply convoy carrying materials I have tagged as high risk has been destroyed."
"The shipment to Eadu, yes," Tarkin nearly growled. "I just got the message myself. I was unaware that you were watching it," he said suspiciously, almost an accusation, and Thrawn nodded his head.
"Because of the shipment of kyber crystals," Thrawn explained. "Kenobi has attacked convoys in the past carrying the material, and I'm given to understand that Force sensitive beings hold them in very high esteem. All shipments of kyber crystals are being tracked using homing beacons built into the crates they are transported in, activated upon diversions from their set course in the event they are stolen."
"You believe the shipment was stolen?" Tarkin asked, and the Chiss nodded.
"I know it was. The beacon wasn't destroyed with the convoy, it was activated."
"And you believe Kenobi is involved?"
"I must investigate the scene of the attack, but I strongly suspect so." He drew closer to the Moff. "Sir, were I you, I would keep a very close eye on Moff Kryze." Beside him, the already tense Tarkin became considerably more stressed. "With the mess at the Spire involving Luminara Unduli, it seems very likely that Kenobi will be coming for Bo-Katan next. I do believe he has made threats against her, and his personal connection to her makes her a very likely target." Tarkin paled considerably, but kept his composure as he nodded.
"I'll take that under advisement, Admiral. Thank you." Thrawn nodded and moved to leave, but Tarkin's hand shot out to lay on his shoulder. "Do keep me appraised of your investigation. The sooner we end Kenobi, the sooner the Empire can be stabilized. He is a rebel element inspiring other rebels to rise up. He needs to be brought to heel and made an example of."
"I'll do just that, Governor Tarkin." Thrawn smiled, a small, soft, sinister thing. "Mark my word, I will succeed."
Thrawn stood on the bridge of his Star Destroyer, Chimera, his red eyes slowly roving over the wreckage of the convoy. There was no excuse for this. Three heavily armed cruisers serving as transports should never have succumbed to an attack like this without calling for reenforcements of some kind. There had been no call, no distress signal, no nothing. Whatever had happened, it had happened fast, and it had been unexpected, and since this particular convoy was traveling through deep space, anything picked up on their scanners should have been cause for alarm. It meant, most likely, that the convoy wasn't alerted to the presence of the attackers, which could only mean one thing. It was a stealth ship, and in the galaxy, there were very few of those around.
The Umbra was by far the best of them, and while Kenobi was something of an ace pilot, even with such a remarkable ship, the Sith Lord shouldn't have been able to take down three ships on his own. He must have had help, or he had somehow managed to turn the ships against each other, as he did have a history of shipjacking. How it was done, ultimately, was irrelevant. What mattered most was discerning if the Sith Lord had help, and if he did, from where was this help coming from? Thrawn had the good fortune of running across another investigation team at the site of the battle, and though it was initially difficult to get the Imperial agent to submit to his authority, he had eventually convinced the TIE Advanced to set down within the Chimera's docking bay.
The bridge doors opened with a hiss, but Thrawn did not turn to look at the newcomer. He didn't need to. He already knew who it was.
"Admiral Thrawn," the Grand Inquisitor said softly as he approached, coming to stand beside the Chiss at the viewport. "You should have told your communications officer that it was you that requested my presence. I would have come right away."
"I find I discover the measure of a man faster when they speak to those beneath them." Thrawn didn't wait for the Inquisitor to respond to the obvious insult. "What brings you all the way out here, Inquisitor?"
"The same thing as you, I suspect," The Inquisitor said. "Kyber crystals hold great significance to those with sensitivity to the Force. ISB Agent Kallus believes this is the work of his Lothal insurgents."
"Interesting..." Thrawn quietly mused. "Why would he believe this?"
"An Imperial decoder containing information on the shipment was stolen out of his office. Given that he was dispatched to Lothal to deal with a growing rebel problem, it seems a reasonable conclusion, especially since he recognized one of the insurgents as a part of the group he is dealing with."
"And you believe his conclusion?" The Inquisitor was quiet for a moment.
"My Masters believe Kenobi is involved."
"But what do you believe, Inquisitor?" When the Inquisitor looked at Thrawn like he was confused by the question, the Chiss huffed in mild irritation. "If I wanted Lord Vader's opinion, I would ask him. I did ask him, and he was most unhelpful. Furthermore, he isn't out here managing this matter as you are. Your observations based solely on your familiarity with the case make your opinions more valuable."
"...I think it's both," The Inquisitor said firmly, a faint, low growl coming from his chest as he withdrew a datapad from his belt. "I know it was him." He swiped his finger across the screen. "This is the file we have on record for Imperial Cadet Dav Morgan, of the Lothal Academy." He handed the datapad to Thrawn and the Admiral curiously took it, took one quick glance at the screen and hissed. "Look familiar?"
"The boy from the Spire," Thrawn said. "The boy with the Jedi."
"The boy is Force sensitive himself," the Inquisitor said, clearly pleased. "A Jedi and his Padawan. Such a rare thing these days. These two are absolutely a part of the rebel cell active on Lothal."
"And Kenobi showed up soon after them to rescue Luminara." Thrawn stroked his chin as he looked out at the wreckage of the Imperial cruisers. "He does not usually work with others, not like this. It would seem to me that Luminara's presence simply drew in nearby Force sensitive individuals."
"That is exactly what happened."
Thrawn scoffed. "It's a shame that we could not keep hold of her body. If even a dead Jedi can exert such influence, we could have put her corpse to use for the Empire." With one last look, he turned away from the viewport and returned to his command chair. "I doubt Kenobi was allied with the Jedi at the Spire, but if he didn't know them before, that's where he was introduced, and they are certainly working together now. You're correct, Inquisitor. This was a joint effort. Your young Jedi learner stole the codes and passed them on to his rebel friends and Kenobi, and our Sith Lord worked together with your insurgents to steal the kyber crystals and destroy the cruisers."
"Are you certain the crystals were stolen?" the Inquisitor asked, and the Chiss nodded firmly.
"Certain, yes. Each individual crate of kyber crystals has been equipt with a homing beacon, and this one is active." He smiled faintly as he punched in coordinates into the console on the arm of his command chair and sent them to the navigation officer. "And this one is leading us to Bahryn, a moon of Geonosis."
"You think we'll find Kenobi there?" the Inquisitor asked, and Thrawn shrugged.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Regardless of what we find, the kyber shipment ended up here, and no matter what we find, we will learn something about our enemy." The Chiss smiled faintly. "Since you're here, care to hunt a Lord of the Sith?"
"I do, yes," the Inquisitor said, his voice low and dark. "To think that the death of a single Jedi would be his undoing."
"His undoing?" a bitter voice snarled from behind them, and both men quickly turned around, Thrawn's red eyes narrowing as he studied the man slowly walking across the bridge, and Inquisitor tensing and swiftly dropping to his knees in genuflection. Another Force sensitive, one that Thrawn had limited contact with, a man simply known as Maul. He understood that the Zabrak now was jointly in charge of the Inquisitorius alongside Vader, but before his current role within the Empire, he was far more interesting. The last Nightbrother in the galaxy, the sole survivor of a silent massacre of the natives of Dathomir, an act that would stand as Obi-Wan Kenobi's first genocide.
It was a difficult thing to uncover, but in his search for understanding, Thrawn had found that Kenobi had crossed paths with not one but two children of Dathomir. Maul, the Sith apprentice he had triumphed over on Naboo, and Asajj Ventress, assassin, bounty hunter, Separatist commander, and close friend to Kenobi. After that, it became a matter of piecing together what had happened to Ventress, and in doing so, he had found a planet scattered in the corpses of the people that once lived upon it. A perfect genocide that left the planet feeling poisonous.
But more than that, Maul was the man that had murdered Satine Kryze, the man that toppled an Empire, the man that caused the events that would lead to the burning of Ord Mantell. He had tried to get to Maul before, as the man was an important, vital piece to the puzzle that was Obi-Wan Kenobi, but he had been unable, kept close to the Emperor and safely tucked out of the way, though for what reasons, Thrawn didn't know. He knew he was capable and dangerous, not unlike Lord Vader himself, but while Vader employed raw, brute strength to strike fear into those that would oppose the Empire, it was possible that Maul served as his shadow, his counterpart, the silent assassin that managed things that needed to be done quietly.
"You think Luminara's death will be his undoing?" Maul asked again, and the Inquisitor looked up at the Zabrak with wide, confused eyes. Maul quickly looked to Thrawn, studied him intently for a moment, then flicked his hand in the air. "Take your ship to lightspeed, Admiral. Let's see if this road leads to Master..." He snarled viciously and shook his head, his hands pulling at his cranial horns. "Kenobi, Kenobi!"
Never taking his eyes off the Zabrak, Thrawn leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands together, watching with interest as the Zabrak began to pace before the kneeling Inquisitor, his feet hitting the ground with the loud, metallic clang of mechanical legs. "Do as he says," Thrawn quietly commanded, and a moment later, the Chimera bolted into hyperspace, the engines thrumming with the sound of the engaged hyperdrive, the viewport filled with blue and white streaks.
"I felt it," Maul said softly after a long silence, his furious pacing slowed considerably. "His anguish in the Force, a wide, deep black void of darkness that opened up and threatened to consume everything. Right here..." he whispered, pointing to his temple. "I felt it here. You killed someone close to him Grand Inquisitor, and not just anyone, but a lover, someone he deeply cared about." He began laughing manically, a bright, frantic amusement on his face. "And he knows. He knows it was you, Master always knows..."
"Are you speaking of Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Thrawn asked softly, and Maul shivered, a keening whimper on his throat as he exhaled. The Inquisitor couldn't look away from the Zabrak, a man far more powerful than him reduced to nothing at the mere mention of the Sith Lord's name. "Was he your Master once?"
"He's my Master always..." Maul said in a breathless whimper. "He was always my Master, always...before I knew it, before I felt his darkness in the Force, before I murdered the woman that kept him human..." He laughed softly and looked the Inquisitor in the eye. "And now, he's after you." He flashed the pale man a smile. "Shall I tell you what he's going to do to you? Do you want to know what happens to those that take his things from him?"
"Master, please, I-"
"He's not going to kill you," Maul interrupted, and the Inquisitor fell silent, his eyes fixed on the ground. "He doesn't kill his things. But he will break you. Over and over again until there's nothing left inside you to break. And then he'll rebuild you the way he wants and begin again." Maul rubbed at the scars on his hand, a nervous laugh on his lips. "He'll destroy you just to watch you break, over and over and over again, and you'll want it. You'll ask for it because there will be nothing left for you but the desire to make him happy so the pain might stop..."
"Is that what he did to you?" Thrawn asked, and furious yellow eyes shot to the Chiss, darting erratically over his features as he observed him. His lips curled up into a sneer of disdain, but Thrawn was not bothered.
"He gave me to his rancor," Maul said, his voice almost wistful. "Not as a meal, as a toy. He mangled my legs so badly that the metal from them would tear into my body. He used me as bait to entrap my own mother, and he had me carry her severed head all the way back to Mustafar..." Maul shivered, and he wrung his hands together in an attempt to keep them from shaking. "He expected me to ask to be tortured, and if I didn't, it would be far worse. He liked begging, but it never worked..." He smiled brightly as he looked at the Inquisitor at his feet, and Maul laid a hand upon his head. "And now, my student, he's after you."
"We will kill him first!" The Inquisitor snarled, but Maul simply laughed.
"There is no escape, not now, not for you. Would you care for my advice?" he asked sweetly, and the Inquisitor met his gaze, his eyes betraying a deep, pervasive fear. Maul leaned down close to him. "If he captures you, if he defeats you, if it looks like there's no escape...take your own life. End it all." He smiled and stroked his cheek. "Death is far kinder, and Master will never give it to you..." Maul's face hardened, anger and hate and disgust settling back onto his tattooed face. "Let's go find him, shall we?"
They traveled the rest of the way in silence, the Inquisitor in meditation, and Thrawn on his seat as he watched Maul pace, back and forth like a predatory beast, alternating between collected calm and manic laughter. He had known Kenobi was a mental manipulator, but this was on a level that Thrawn hadn't anticipated. This wasn't simple revenge, this was a living, breathing reminder to anyone that would oppose him. A creature of power, reduced to nothing by the mere mention of his name. It was a powerful message, and one that spoke of a man that understood that death was only effective for a short time, but a living reminder of why he wasn't to be opposed would last as a chilling, haunting memory to all those that saw what could be done to a man. As Maul had said, death was ultimately kinder.
When they exited hyperspace outside of Geonosis, the three men and a compliment of Thrawn's best stormtroopers boarded the shuttle that would take them to the ice moon of Bahryn, the ship headed right toward the signal from the beacon, the ship landing outside of a shallow cave, and the group disembarked, stepping against the whipping winds as they made their way into the small rock formation, the scanner in hand beeping faster and faster as they drew near. It took only a few minutes to find the crate, and two stormtroopers quickly unpacked devices to scan for bombs, traps, and anything else that could have been hidden inside. They found nothing, and when thay had given the sign that it was clear, Thrawn slowly approached the crate. He slid off the lid and found...nothing.
The kyber crystals were gone, the crate empty save for a small, folded piece of paper. The Inquisitor looked nervously over his shoulder as Thrawn leaned down to get it, and he reached out with the Force, trying to sense anybody in the area, though he knew that if Kenobi was there, he wouldn't have been able to feel him anyway.
Thrawn carefully unfolded the paper, quickly read it, shut his eyes, then read it again. The first time, he was simply confused. The second time, he smiled softly, and the third time, he began to laugh, shaking his head as he walked toward the Inquisitor and handed him the paper. On the paper was a sloping, elegant scrawl and three words that made a pit sink in his stomach. He didn;t know how Thrawn could find this funny, because it definitely wasn't."
Your move, Thrawn.
"You know, the more I get to know Obi-Wan Kenobi, the more I like him," Thrawn drawled, laughter still in his voice. "I shall have to make certain that we meet very soon." This was a game. Not just any game, but a game of strategy, and it turned out that Kenobi played very well. Thrawn could feel his lead on the Sith Lord began to lessen, and he felt...thrilled. It was exhilarating to be engaged with an opponent like this, both calculating and intelligent with a keen mind for tactical thinking. It was an opponent worthy of him, and Thrawn would not disappoint, just as Kenobi hadn't. Before he killed him, Thrawn vowed to have a real converastion with the man. He deserved that much.
"And how do you propose to do that?" the Inquisitor snapped, watching Maul out of the corner of his eyes as the Zabrak laughed uncontrollably. His investment in seeing Kenobi killed had suddenly become very, very personal.
"Oh, that is simple enough, we have lots of ways," Thrawn said dismissively, turning toward the mouth of the cave and beginning the trek back to the shuttle. "And even better is that he now is associated with your rebel cell. All he's done is given us more targets." He indicated with his hand for them to follow, and the Inquisitor fell into step next to the Admiral. "Come. You have rebels to kill, and I have a trap to set. It is my move, after all."