Chapter 9: A Rising Chorus

-.-.-.-

"If you strike my voice down, know that a chorus of thousands shall rise up in its place." —Senator Padmé Amidala

-.-.-.-

Hera pulled back on the throttle and eased the Ghost out of hyperspace and into a comfortable drift among a cluster of asteroids. The asteroids were each uniquely shaped and softly tumbling in their orbit around a distant blue star. They would provide cover should the Imperial Cruiser and its squadron of Tie Fighters choose to pursue.

Though Hera doubted their ability to do so, it felt especially important to make sure they weren't followed, considering the distress call prompted a diversion from Yavin IV.

The Ghost's engines powered down with a soft hum. On scanners they would look just like another space rock drifting along its path around the star.

Hera leaned back in her pilot's seat and soaked in the silence that followed the jump. Moments of stillness like this were rare, and she had a feeling things were about to change for everyone aboard the Ghost.

And she needed a breath of calm after that space battle. Though some fights lasted only briefly, they would replay over and over in her mind, sometimes days or even longer afterward depending on the event. Even if some didn't come to remembrance willingly, Hera wanted to learn from them all the same. To become a better pilot, a better protector. She couldn't lose her family.

-.-

Childhood memories of Ryloth came forward.

The Clone War. Explosions. Smoke.

Father's stoic voice, rallying civilians to battle.

Radio chatter. Cries for help—

Mother clutching her close in the night as weighted boots march by outside.

Be quiet... Don't make a sound…

Blaster-fire. War. War. War.

Brother—

WAR—

"It's all you've ever known isn't it? … You were forged by it…"

-.-

Concerned warbles…

Hera noticed her hands were trembling. She stretched her fingers, testing the adrenaline inside them. The tremors slowly subsided with each pulse and stretch.

Hera's eyes followed what she knew to be the voice of her friend and looked down to her right. Chopper had made his way to her and was observing her, angled slightly so that his photoreceptors were focused on her face. Chopper probably knew more than anyone else aboard the Ghost about what troubled her thoughts.

"Bwaah bwirr wah?" Chopper beeped quietly.

Hera tried to give him a reassuring look and tentatively placed her right hand on his head. "Yeah Chop, I'm okay now."

Hera looked back outside, beyond the cockpit viewport, and Chopper seemingly followed her gaze.

"Thanks," Hera whispered.

"Bwhirrrr…" Chopper hummed melodically.

The colors of space were beautiful here. Vibrant blue light from the distant star reflected from the asteroids, radiating its splendor toward the rebel ship as if in an excited greeting. The colorful light danced across the Ghost's viewport and painted Chopper's metallic torso and Hera's face with speckled rainbows.

The sight made Hera smile.

"Hera!?" Sabine's voice echoed from the lounge, followed by load shuffling and grunts.

Hera flinched toward the noise. As if trying to grasp the last moments of serenity before they flew away, her hand instinctively clinched shut on top of Chopper's head.

Chopper looked at Hera and warbled gently at her. "Whhaa wha-aaaa whhha ah."

"I know."

Hera smiled thinly, her eyes tired but hopeful. She regarded Chopper for another quick second and then turned her attention to the controls in front of her. A chime sounded as she flipped switches on the pilot's console.

"I'll be right there Sabine," she yelled toward the lounge. "I need to let Command know we won't make our schedule."

The holo-projector whirred to life, a shimmering blue light emitting from the device as it waited for input. Practiced hands punched in a code sequence as Hera focused.

"Okay…," Sabine muffled in return.

Metallic footfalls sounded as someone barreled into the cockpit. Chopper rotated his head and found Zeb in the doorway out of breath.

"We need you Hera," Zeb said.

"I know I'll be just a second—"

"You're the one with the most medical experience and—"

Hera's eyes went wide, and she whipped her attention toward him. "Whoa what? Someone's hurt?"

Zeb scratched the back of his head and acquiesced, "Well yeah… our new—"

"Whaaa whirrahh," Chopper warbled in warning.

"Zeb…," Hera said worried. "I didn't know anyone was—"

"What's happened Captain Syndulla?"

Hera and Zeb turned toward the holo-projector and found a concerned Senator Mon Mothma wrapped in blue light. Her stance was tense, and her eyes moved between Zeb, Chopper and finally rested upon Hera. Leadership emitted from her even through the small holo-projector, but also trepidation of what news she might receive.

"Senator Mon Mothma," Hera hesitated turning her attention to the Rebel leader.

"We didn't expect you for at least another hour Captain," Mon Mothma said. Worry furrowed across her brow. "Has… something happened?"

Hera unconsciously squeezed her right hand. Zeb suddenly felt out of place, but he saw Hera's sudden hesitation.

"Just a little detour ma'am," Zeb said with a timid smile. "Picked up someone who needs a bit of help."

"Ah, yes…," Hera said, taking a deep breath. She now realized it was whoever they picked up on the Imperial Shuttle that was injured and not a family member on the Ghost. She regained her measured voice. "We won't be making our scheduled arrival back to base Senator. We may have discovered something vital."

Mon Mothma's eyes glinted. "What can you tell me?"

"We picked up a distress call on the way back to base; investigated the area, and picked someone up. We think this might be related to Grand Admiral Thrawn."

Mon Mothma was surprised and skeptical. "Grand Admiral Thrawn? How so?"

"The distress call identified with his Imperial authorization."

"Quite bold," Mon Mothma whispered.

"It also contained encryption ciphers used specifically by my father on Ryloth during the Clone War, implying it was directed to us specifically…"

Zeb's eyes widened as he regarded Hera while Mon Mothma furrowed her brow, her eyes intense. She stilled briefly as if trying to quickly put a puzzle together in her mind.

"The Empire knows of Ryloth's communication techniques?" Mon Mothma cautiously asked.

"No I don't think it would be possible Senator," Hera said. "The ciphers used are old and haven't been used for a long time. Besides, the Empire wasn't prepared for our escape from the palace for example.

"I think...," Hera paused, amazed at the theory echoing within her mind. Her eyes were intense though as she regarded Senator Mon Mothma's own wise reflection. "I think this was a way of getting a message to us. But we require more time to investigate."

"A message?"

"Yes Senator," Hera said, placing a hand on Chopper again.

Mon Mothma took a moment to consider the information thrown at her. This certainly was unexpected. Her eyes spoke of a burdened caution. "Find out what you can Captain. But be careful."

"We'll report back once able Senator," Hera said, pressing a button sequence. Mon Mothma shimmered away as Hera ended the holo-call.

-.-

Sabine patted a damp washcloth to Rukh's forehead. Rukh was unconscious and was laid down on the coach in the Ghost's lounge. Ezra walked in from his bunk.

"Found these," Ezra said, carrying a pillow and blanket. They suspected Rukh had broken bones by the way he was breathing and wanted to make him as comfortable as possible. A pressure bandage was already wrapped around his torso and a cloth sling was secured to his right arm.

Ezra placed the blanket over Rukh and then gently moved to lift Rukh's head and shoulders. Sabine reached for the pillow as Ezra held him and placed the pillow underneath.

Ezra huffed a playful but concerned breath. "Heavier then he looks."

Sabine raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't tell him that."

"Definitely don't tell him that," Zeb said as he entered the lounge, crossing his arms and stopping near the door as if he didn't want to get too close. Hera rounded the corner behind him, concern laced upon her face.

"How's he doing?" Hera said.

She scanned Rukh's form as she walked forward, and knelt between Sabine and Ezra. She placed a hand gently on Rukh's face as she examined him. He felt cold to the touch.

"Not sure really," Sabine said, adjusting the blanket to cover his feet and tucking them in as if placing Rukh within a protective cocoon. Chopper rolled into the lounge, stopping next to Zeb, observing in silence.

"He seemed in pain on the shuttle," Ezra said as he sat down on the couch, leaning forward on his thighs. He was wringing his hands together as he looked at Rukh. Sabine saw that his blue eyes were unfocused, perhaps remembering his and Kanan's time on the shuttle.

"Did he say anything about what happened to him?" Hera asked.

Ezra sat up straight and took a deep breath. "No, just that his name's Rukh and— oh!" Ezra reached into a back pocket and grabbed the datachip. He held it up before him, displaying it to everyone in the room. "Rukh said to give this to Chopper… he said it would explain everything."

If she ignored the subtle insignia of the Empire in the corner, it looked like an otherwise ordinary datachip to Hera. It's clear transparency revealed wires and blocks of technology inside of its rectangular form that no doubt held vital information within. She was nervous about it though.

She pursed her lips and scrunched her forehead in doubt as she considered the small datachip.

"I'm worried about giving that to Chopper, Ezra," she said. "I know there may be important information on it, but it could also be dangerous for him. We had a close call once before with Chop, and I don't want to go through that again…"

"He seemed pretty insistent on it," Ezra said, turning his attention to Rukh. He lowered his voice. "He went through a lot to get here."

"Hera."

Everyone turned to see Kanan standing on the opposite side of the lounge, having climbed back down from the Phantom to retrieve a pack. Ezra smiled as a spark of joy ran through him, remembering what they found. Kanan reached gently into the pack he held, the sound of wooden blocks clinking together as he grabbed the priceless totem within.

Hera's eyes immediately went wide and glistened with emotion as Kanan revealed and held the history of her family's ancestry in his hand. Everything seemed to quiet around her. She let out a shaky breath and slowly stood, unsure of the sturdiness of her feet.

"My Kalikori," Hera whispered in amazement.

The lounge was a hushed silence as Hera took slow, measured steps toward Kanan. Her footsteps echoed softly off the metallic floor. She had risked so much to retrieve the Kalikori once before, and she thought she had lost it forever.

"Perhaps… a gesture of good faith," Kanan said quietly and carefully. Hera stopped in front of him, amazed at the heirloom in his hand. Her breathing was heavy now, holding back emotion. She rose her head tentatively and met Kanan's mask with afraid and glistening childlike eyes of her own.

Kanan responded as if he saw her looking at him. Sensing her trepidation, he smiled and held the Kalikori out more toward her. Hera looked down at it once again and examined every part of it before slowly reaching her own shaking hands out toward it.

It was like being reunited with an echo of her past that spoke comfort and strength to her. The stories and memories of which the totem spoke were precious. Hera's hands hesitantly wrapped around her family heirloom as if afraid it would suddenly vanish should she dare to retrieve it once again.

Hera firmly grasped it finally, taking it fully from Kanan, and finally held it within her hands. She gently stroked a hand over the wooden surfaces, feeling the textured carvings marked into the connected blocks by the hands of her ancestors that came before her.

She couldn't help but notice it had been well cared for and shined as if it had been polished. Tears escaped from her eyes.

"My Kalikori...," Hera said again with heavy emotion.

She took in a shaky involuntary breath, making her slightly whimper. She quickly brought up a hand to her mouth in response, her eyebrows scrunching together and raising, eyes continually watering. Kanan quickly hugged her into a warm embrace.

Hera leaned into him, burying her face in his shoulder as memories of her childhood flooded through her mind once again. This time, even though war on Ryloth was a constant, her memories were now mixed with the warmth of her family, happy together despite what the Clone War threw at them.

Sabine and Ezra both smiled with emotion, and Zeb felt his own eyes water at the sight, holding himself tighter in his crossed arms.

A shaky voice croaked with a weak tenor from the couch, "He wanted it returned to you should this happen…"

Ezra startled and turned in his spot on the couch. "Rukh you're awake!"

Kanan loosened his embrace, and Hera turned, wiping the emotion from her face as she breathed shakily. She found Rukh looking at her through glassy eyes as he lay on the couch.

"Should what happen?" Sabine asked.

"Please…," Rukh said. Determined, he used his left arm to raise himself up from the pillow, grunting in pain. The blanket fell as he struggled to rise.

"Whoa whoa, be careful," Ezra said, reaching out to help him. Sabine moved quickly to assist as well.

Despite the pain, Rukh swung his legs over, careful not to use his right arm, and sat up with the help of Ezra holding onto his left shoulder.

Sabine sat down where Rukh's feet once were and readjusted the blanket around him. She then braced his back gently and helped settle his broken arm upon his lap.

Rukh clinched his eyes closed and steadied himself for a moment. "Please… the datachip is important… I will explain what happened after… it will help."

Hera glanced down at her Kalikori and then looked at Rukh once more, calculating. There was a sad sincerity in Rukh's eyes. Almost pleading.

"Okay," Hera said.

She slowly moved toward Ezra and took the datachip from him, regarding it with concerned eyes once more. That Imperial insignia... Chopper seemed content though and rolled to the middle of the room. Were the situation not so serious, Zeb would have accused Chopper of putting on a falsely brave demeanor.

Hera knelt down before Chopper, holding her Kalikori in one hand and the datachip in the other, and stared into his photoreceptors. "You feel anything weird, you stop right away okay?"

"Bwah waaa ah bwaaa-a," Chopper warbled.

"Sweet talker," Zeb teased, as he followed Kanan around toward the couch to more easily see what Chopper would display.

Kanan touched a switch on the wall, dimming the lights. He stood against the wall, crossing his arms and hunched forward as he reached out with the Force. The Force felt turmoiled yet insistent as if it was crying to be heard, almost childlike and distant.

Zeb sat down on the couch, leaning forward. He and Rukh both regarded each other briefly with the eyes of one warrior to another. Respect was found there.

With a click, Hera inserted the datachip into Chopper's receiver. She stepped back to stand with Kanan, and he placed a hand around her shoulders. He held her tight for support.

Chopper warbled a few beeps as he began to process the information on the chip.

Whirring and scrunching clicks emitted from Chopper's little metallic frame. Hera remembered the old encryption ciphers from so long ago and realized he must be processing through them to unlock the data. They must be stored down deep into the little droid's databanks. The wait felt like eternity.

She held the Kalikori tighter once the clicks stopped, and Chopper's holographic emitter hummed as it spinned itself up to life.

Chopper turned his head slightly right and rolled backward a bit as he positioned himself to focus the holo-images in the middle of the lounge.

Blue light shimmered and lit the room with a soft glow. What appeared to be coded data flashed suddenly, followed by quick images of what seemed to be star charts and blueprints. It was going so fast though. Garbled code seemed to be interspersed among it all.

"What's happening Chop?" Hera asked.

Chopper emitted strained warbles.

"Corruption? Or too much data perhaps. Can you focus it?"

The data-stream stopped, leaving a blank blue light reflecting in the room.

"Look for a message…," Rukh said, breathing heavy. "There should be a message…"

Chopper started whirring his processors again and then warbled smugly.

A life-size image of Grand Admiral Thrawn, in his white Imperial uniform with gold bars on his shoulders, bathed in blue light, suddenly flickered into existence in the middle of the room. Everyone flinched; even Chopper warbled with surprise.

"Whoa," Ezra whispered. Hera leaned into Kanan more and held her Kalikori tight to her chest.

Rukh regarded his master with sorrow and let out a lingering breath of guilt. Sabine felt his ache as she supported his back.

Thrawn didn't speak.

His crimson eyes were intense and considering, yet apprehensive, and his chest rose and fell with measured breaths. His back and shoulders were rigid, his right wrist clasped firmly in his left hand behind his back. His feet stood resolute underneath him inside their crisp black boots.

Thrawn breathed deeply, steeling himself for what must be said. Thrawn's form spoke of the Imperial nature and rigidity required of his station, yet Ezra saw hesitation dance upon his brow.

"The winding path to peace," Thrawn began, slowly and melodically. "Is always a worthy one, regardless of how many turns it takes."

His voice held a gentle and quiet countenance as if he didn't wish to frighten a child who was easily spooked. Kanan flinched though, earning a quick glance from Hera.

"A wise ambassador once said, it is our duty, and our responsibility, to preserve the lives of those around us," Thrawn continued.

There was a flicker in Thrawn's eyes, chipping at his Imperial rigidity. For a moment his eyes seemed to unfocus, and his gaze turned slightly to the side, as if facing a memory. His voice became almost wistful.

"She also beheld the light of thousands within her eyes, as she defended to me, that what drove her were individuals, people and honor."

He lingered there in the memory for a moment. His eyes were almost haunted.

Tearing himself away from the memory, he quickly looked straight again. Hera recognized regret. Thrawn's crimson eyes shined like sparkling glass as his mind returned.

"It is that same purpose under which I operate," Thrawn said, his voice strong. "She knew that a chorus of thousands would rise up in its place should her voice be extinguished, and it is to a few within what I see as that rising chorus, for which this message is intended.

"Captain Hera Syndulla," Thrawn said, pronouncing her name in proper Twi'leki as he did on Ryloth before. "I intend that this message be delivered to you and your Phoenix Squadron, and then passed along to what I see as your superiors, Senators Mon Mothma and Bail—"

He cut himself off and his face suddenly became rigid. Thrawn's eyes flicked left and focused somewhere beyond him, the crimson orbs tracking something moving in the distance.

Everyone in the Ghost's lounge held their breath as Thrawn furrowed his brow in subtle anger and slightly lowered his chin. Zeb noticed that he steeled himself as a warrior would before conflict.

The sound of a door whooshing open echoed faintly on the holo-recording, and metallic footfalls got louder as someone approached. The anger suddenly dissipated from Thrawn's brow though and was replaced with concern as he rose his chin.

"Grand Admiral Thrawn," a woman's voice said, hesitation and subtle emotion clipping at her words. "I'm sorry to interrupt but I needed…"

The woman's voice trailed off, unsure perhaps of what to say.

"Commodore Faro, what's happened?" Thrawn said.

Hera thought he looked worried. The woman's voice sounded almost scared like a daughter would be toward a father after having a nightmare. It made her reminisce to when she approached her own father as a young child during the night on Ryloth, sometimes hearing explosions in the distance.

"I know you didn't want to be disturbed," Faro said. Fear echoed in her voice. "But I need to speak to you about Lord Vader, sir. He…"

Thrawn's eyes flinched narrow. The nightmare, Hera thought. Ezra's eyes went wide at hearing Vader's name, and he flicked his gaze over to Kanan. He saw Kanan's head lowered as he listened, his expression grim.

"The crew…," Faro continued, audibly letting out a nervous breath. "I'm at an impasse, and I need your advice, sir."

"Please, sit Commodore," Thrawn said gesturing behind him. "And tell me what troubles you."

The holo-recording became fuzzy as it tried to track his movement, and sound became distorted.

"Oh! You were recording, I'm so sorry Grand Admiral."

"It is no matter," Thrawn said. "I can continue the log…"

The holo fizzled away to plain blue light as Thrawn must have cut the recording.

Then a very different Grand Admiral Thrawn fizzled into existence. His head was turned down and to the side, immersed in his thoughts as his eyes were unfocused. The demeanor he carried spoke sadness and worry.

"I cannot express enough, the magnitude with which I speak," Thrawn said quietly.

Thrawn slowly rose his head and looked straight, his crimson eyes glistening with emotion that was unusual for the Ghost crew to see. He looked burdened with responsibility. Hera recognized that same look on Mon Mothma a short moment earlier.

"My people are dying… I must act quickly, and that comes with great risk," Thrawn continued. "You must know, while I wear the uniform of the Empire, I have always served the causes of the Chiss Ascendancy. My people are my mission, and my mission comes first.

"There are evil things in this galaxy, far more evil than the Empire. I once held hope that alliances could be established and held a vision of a galaxy united against that evil… But no longer…"

Thrawn paused and looked down, taking a deep breath. His left thumb rubbed his right wrist as he did so, and he was entrenched in his thoughts for a moment. The muscles weaving upon his forehead tensed, and he pursed his lips.

"The delivery of this message implies I have failed, and am no longer able to act," Thrawn whispered. "There is so much I would say."

Rukh held his head low, unable to look at his master any longer. Guilt coursed through his veins. Sabine looked at him, feeling him tense, and saw the emotion on his features. Her eyebrows rose in sympathy and she gently squeezed his leg in support. Rukh just closed his eyes tight in the shame he felt.

"Attached to this message is information I deem useful to your Rebellion," Thrawn said. He rose is head, facing straight once again, and took a breath. "Please understand that everything I did, I did for the greater good of the galaxy, and with the intent of preserving all lives that were around me…" His head nodded and eyes narrowed. "…including yours."

Kanan rubbed his chin in thought while he reached out to the Force for guidance. It was still pleading.

Thrawn suddenly straightened, rising his chin with a show of authority and respect, though his crimson eyes betrayed the emotion he was holding back.

"Rukh," Thrawn said. "If you are present for this message, please listen."

Thrawn paused, steeling himself, and Rukh looked up at his holo-image, grimacing with apprehensive sorrow.

"Ch'ah tovun'csivci csah vah cat veo raszi," Thrawn intoned in his language. It sounded like measured music.

"Nah…," Rukh groaned sorrowfully.

"Vah viz k'ir na," Thrawn continued melodically. "K'ir nah tir veo g'evipah lishah vah. Tir nen tisci can ch'acevasi."

Rukh shook his head and took in a sorrowfully hitched breath. Sabine gently rubbed his back and Ezra locked eyes with her in shared sympathy. Rukh rubbed at his eyes with his left hand.

Thrawn steadied himself and visibly swallowed.

"I regret any pain I've caused to you all in the name of the Empire," Thrawn said. "And I am regretful that we could not go beyond the relationship of adversaries and toward that of allies."

Thrawn smirked slightly. "Perhaps, were fates different…" Thrawn blinked slowly after a moment of consideration and then nodded in finality. "May you gain hope."

Grand Admiral Thrawn's form fizzled away, leaving a stunned Phoenix Squadron in hushed silence.

-.-.-.-

"I walk alone

Beside myself

Nowhere to go"

- Flesh and Bone by Black Math

-.-.-.-