Chapter 25: A Commander

-.-.-.-

"Only through fire is a strong sword forged."

-.-.-.-

"He's doing alright. Just needs a lot of rest now," Kanan said as he sat down next to Ezra on the ramp of the Ghost. The Ghost was still a sanctuary, even on Yavin IV. "It may be a while until you can speak with him."

Ezra had his legs hugged to his chest where he sat, resting his chin atop his knees. He stayed silent, and Kanan could feel the disconnect. Ezra had been quiet since their mission to the ISD Devastator.

"You okay?" Kanan asked.

"Just… thinking of Lothal… And what this all means for my home."

"We'll help them one day, when we're able."

"We were there, on Lothal," Ezra said quietly. He looked sideways to Kanan and saw confusion ripple across his master's brow. "In the vision," he added.

Kanan hummed, nodding his head. Ezra had yet to speak about what he experienced, but Kanan didn't want to pressure him into discussing it before he was ready. "You and Thrawn?"

"Yeah," Ezra said with a breath. "It was different though. A future maybe, like my other vision. Remember when Ryder told us about my parents?"

Kanan grimaced, and as his heart flinched, it was his turn to turn away. Ezra's sorrow was tough to witness that night. "Yeah, I remember."

"It was the same skyline with the tall spires, and it looked… free, like a good place to live." Ezra huffed a small laugh. "A white lothcat woke me up in a spine tree forest. I thought it was Zeb at first."

Kanan smiled. "Zeb mistaken for a lothcat."

"Don't tell him I said that," Ezra said.

"No promises on that one." Kanan was relieved to see Ezra's smile while discussing the Force-vision, and he felt comfortable prompting Ezra with more questions. "We've seen a white lothcat a few times before, haven't we?"

"One led us to Ryder, yeah… It led me to Thrawn in the vision. He was standing alone, just outside the forest…" Ezra winced, voice becoming hushed as he saw himself in the vision again. "…watching over his daughter. His uniform was different, not Imperial and like some sort of battle armor. The emblem was specific. Red, I think."

"Uniforms can be deceiving," Kanan said. "Maybe the Force showed you his true one."

"I think…" Ezra hesitated. He was unsure if he should even mention this, but Kanan was his master. His family. Out of everyone, Kanan should at least know what he suspected. "I… think Thrawn might be Force-sensitive."

Kanan's brow furrowed. He thought to his time on the Ghost as the traveled back to Yavin IV with Thrawn onboard.

A presence of peace and strength rising to meet alien forms and patterns— familiarity—

Kanan took a deep breath. "I think so too," he said.

"You do?"

"I reached out to him in meditation while you were asleep, and, well… he answered back. Thrawn was reaching out for you, you know? Wondering how you were doing." Kanan put his hand on his shoulder. "It's probably something best kept quiet until we can speak with him about it though… What you both experienced, it must have been powerful."

A cool breeze began to make its way through base.

"Thrawn collapsed, and I couldn't save him," Ezra said with a hush. "Why would the Force do that, Kanan?"

"I don't know. What you saw could mean many things," Kanan said, feeling Ezra begin to tremble. He squeezed his shoulder. "But Master Yoda taught that the future is always in motion and that there are many possibilities. Maybe what happened means something more to Thrawn. Did Thrawn say anything in the vision?"

"He warned of a greater threat like he did in the holo-message, but no specifics. I think he was getting tired; his eyes were actually dimming. He got worried when I told him the datachip was corrupted, though."

"Maybe the Force simply sent you there to encourage him and be there for him."

"Maybe…," Ezra said, looking up at the Great Pyramid. It was majestic yet ethereal.

A smooth sound of kyber… The song cascaded through the air… An unknown mother's melody…

A voice echoed… "Remember that name, Ezra…"

A familiar voice… Thrawn's voice… "Friend… He is a friend…"

"Ezra?"

Ezra startled, and found Kanan leaning toward him. Ezra's eyes went wide. "Thrawn told me a name. Oh, what was it?" Ezra said urgently.

The sound of kyber intensified in Ezra's mind, and he rose his hands to his head. He groaned in frustration.

"Focus Ezra, find your center," Kanan said, also hearing the song of kyber. It was as if it emanated from the ancient pyramid.

"Remember that… that name, Ezra…" …

A bolt of lightning struck Ezra's mind.

"Eli!" Ezra exclaimed. "Eli Vanto. That's the name Thrawn wanted me to remember. Said he may try to contact us! Thrawn said he was a friend!"

"Whoa, slow down, kid," Kanan said. There's the Ezra Kanan knew, talking faster than was nearly possible to comprehend. "Eli Vanto?"

"Yes, Eli Vanto. It was one of the last things Thrawn said. He sounds important. A friend."

"Well, we should tell someone in charge. Maybe we can figure out who that is," Kanan said, getting up. He offered his hand to Ezra. "What do you say we go find Senator Mon Mothma."

-.-.-.-

A sense of touch returned first.

Darkness— Warmth— Comfort—

Ch'itkashn. Veo. G'evoti.

Thrawn realized he wasn't cold anymore as he became aware of the soft surface upon which he lay. He was comfortable.

Swirlings in the Force— A small shift to awareness— A bell that tolled—

Open. Your. Eyes.

Sound came next with clicks and whooshes of a ventilator, followed by reverberations of soft footfalls in the distance. A sense of space blossomed. Where was he? Thrawn needed to see.

A simple melody— Tranquility— Rest— A rising steam—

Strong brows furrowed with a fight to emerge from an ocean of darkness. Thrawn's eyelids were so heavy.

"Tis'mi…?" «Daddy…?»

Crimson orbs fluttered open.

Thrawn lay still, assessing the space around him with a warrior's instinct. Don't show awareness until you yourself are aware. He was slightly inclined in a cushioned bed and found himself to be in what appeared to be a private room of a medcenter, though obviously not Imperial. The materials were too natural. Actually, perhaps it wasn't quite a room, but merely a private space of a larger segment. Two large curtains bordered him on either side and stretched toward a wall of serrated stone that stood directly across from him. Comparable to the pyramid structure he saw…

Flashes of memory.

A Lasat looking down, nervous… Garazeb Orrelios… Darkness…

Light… Unfamiliar faces… Fear… "Do you recognize who I am?" … Moon mother… Mon Mothma… "You're welcome here" …

It was quiet. Thrawn was alone.

Heavy blankets stretching up to his chest weighted him down, his arms resting atop at his sides. The Rebellion left him unbound. Curious. Gauze and IV lines coiled over his right arm. His nervous system was perhaps sluggish to sync with his mind as he wasn't sure if he could properly feel the limb. A loose and soft gray tunic adorned his torso, replacing the Imperial uniform of a grand admiral, and wires weaved down underneath the fabric. Sticky sensors secured to his chest there, and they stretched and pulled with each rise and fall of his chest.

Lifting his left hand, he scanned it as he held it before his face, perhaps oddly curious at his ability to do so. He wiggled the cerulean fingers. They were like the sapphire wings of morning cascading through the earliest stretches of a new horizon, graceful and free, shifting with the rising canvas of sky around them, the sun its masterful conductor. The first light illuminating a new path. Thrawn slowly turned his hand over and tested his grip. He held his fist tight as his mind flashed, fingernails digging into the palm.

Memory flashed to a haunted mind.

…Thrawn struggled on the ground. Echoes of battle. Rukh held his eyes. Thrawn balled his quivering hand into a fist. "Ch'tra!" …

Thrawn released the grip. He straightened his fingers and froze them there. His hand was steady; it didn't shake. He averted his awakening gaze, scanning the far corners of the room. Crimson eyes glistened and narrowed to find them empty. Alone.

Thrawn instinctively wanted to take a breath, but found the ventilator to be keeping his breath stable. His awakening mind found his mouth to be free though. He moved his jaw side to side and brought his hand to his mouth. Fingers ran over dry lips to discover the cumbersome breathing tube to be gone.

Exploring more of his face, fingers found a small tube secured with tape to his cheek that curved directly up into his nose. Oh goodness, he wished he had remained unaware of that… That was strange feeling.

He lowered his hand to his neck, and explored what felt like a new breathing tube, secured to his throat there with a plastic contraption that stretched all the way around. They must have operated on him, Thrawn realized. He lowered his hand to rest on his chest as he blinked slowly, centering himself.

A grimace flashed to his face as he carefully rotated his head to the side with sore muscles. Sluggish eyes followed tubing that led to machines controlled by a medical console. There, just out of arms reach resting on a side table, was his heirloom bracelet. His daughter's echo. Relief that Thrawn was unaware he could have traveled through him like a wave. Hera had perhaps placed it there. Perhaps a gentle reminder of a promise.

Thrawn carefully rotated his head straight again and leaned back. It was quiet. He scanned his surroundings again and, still, found no one to be nearby. If this was how they treated captured enemy combatants, the Rebellion surely was not ready for open war. They had left him alone, and Thrawn was a warrior. A warrior with a mission. Though maybe that wasn't how they viewed him. Still, Thrawn needed to know what was going on regardless of his status among them. His people were reliant upon him, and he needed to continue his path.

Thrawn watched his left hand passively rise and fall on top of his chest. He curled his fingers over his grey tunic and felt the sensors monitoring his vital signs underneath. Brows furrowed, and he rolled his crimson eyes as he realized what he was going to do. This was going to hurt.

-.-.-.-

Doctor Harter Kalonia held a datapad in front of two nurses and a medical droid. A squadron of A-wings had come into base with casualties, and they were reviewing vitals of the injured when the alert sounded over her commlink. A harsh trill startled the group, and Kalonia fumbled to silence the device as she pulled up the notification on her datapad.

Thrawn was crashing, his vitals flatlining. Her heart dropped. "You three with me!"

They ran to the isolated and secured part of the medcenter. The Alliance trooper guarding the area understood to let them pass, as the alarms could be heard echoing from beyond.

It didn't make sense to Kalonia. She had just checked Thrawn's vitals, and he was improving at an incredible rate considering what the Empire put him through.

With a mixture of panic and adrenaline, Kalonia whipped aside the curtain and slid to a stop. Her brain couldn't reconcile the sudden absurdity. She found Thrawn laying there awake with a handful of wires with his glowing crimson gaze upon her. Panic should have rippled up her spine, but the stern demeanor of an irritated medical doctor surfaced within her.

"Really?" Kalonia said, aggravated.

She shook her head as Thrawn indicated with the sensors in his hand. He almost looked innocent. Almost. Stubbornness must be a common thread among military personnel. Of warriors. None of them were good patients, and she suspected Thrawn wasn't going to be any different.

-.-.-.-

"The first thing I'll point out to you is your right hand," Kalonia said as she nearly hovered over Thrawn at his bedside. She held a datapad and indicated to his bandaged arm with a stylus. "Attached to the IV lines there is a call button."

Thrawn winced slightly with the rotation of his right arm, as the limb was tender to move. There, along the side of his hand near the pinky was a call button. He looked up and found her gaze again. "Please use that next time," she said pointedly. She turned her attention to the datapad.

Another medical technician was verifying the accuracy of the replaced sensors that Thrawn had ripped off his chest while a medical droid stood idle by the far wall.

Thrawn began to study Doctor Kalonia, noticing her wary stance and small bursts of frustration as she tapped the stylus upon the datapad in her hands, but his observations were interrupted by approaching noise of heavy footfalls and breathing. Thrawn averted his gaze and saw the heat signature of someone running toward them from beyond the curtain.

Kallus threw the curtains aside with wild eyes. "I got the alert," Kallus said, trying to catch his breath. "I was across base."

"Operative Kallus, welcome. The alert was indeed false, as you can see," Kalonia said, indicating to an awake Thrawn. "Our Grand Admiral here decided to pull sensors off of himself rather than use the technologically more proficient means of pressing his call button."

Thrawn rose an eyebrow and blinked slowly as if acknowledging the blunt description of his deed.

"I see," Kallus said, smirking slightly to Kalonia's annoyance, as he caught his breath. He placed his hands on his hips and nodded as he held Thrawn's gaze. "Good to see you awake."

"You've made considerable improvements," Kalonia said to Thrawn. She scrolled over her datapad, perhaps enthralled with the data. "I'll admit we've never treated a Chiss before, but we encountered little side effects beyond what we could handle. And nothing too far beyond expectation of human physiology. A blood transfusion may even be viable between the two species oddly enough, but I digress." She squinted as she swiped over the datapad and took a deep breath. "All traces of skirtopanol and lotiramine are nearly absent from your system. You're at a threshold where I feel comfortable asking…" She looked up to Thrawn. "You ready to speak? Breathe on your own?"

Thrawn's eyes narrowed. She seemed insistent at his ability to do so, and he needed to talk. Thrawn carefully nodded an affirmative.

"Okay good; I must admit I'm under orders by General Draven to get you speaking as quickly as possible anyway, but I'll never do something my patients aren't ready for." She looked over her shoulder. "Lieutenant increase his oxygen count over the next minute please." Kalonia plopped her tablet down on the bed next to Thrawn's thigh. She leaned in closer, holding Thrawn's gaze, studying his reactions.

"Our medical droids were able to identify the unique musculature of your vocal cords and repair the damage there. Your voice will be hoarse, but structurally it's alright to speak." Kalonia indicated to the tube and showed Thrawn a small plastoid cap. "I'll place this on top, and then you'll be able to speak. It'll require considerably more effort and you'll hear suction when you breathe, but that's normal. I'll be here to reconnect it if anything isn't right."

Kalonia stopped and considered Thrawn's gaze, making sure he understood. "Okay?"

Thrawn casually rose a few fingers on his left hand and nodded as he slowly blinked an affirmative.

"Oh-two levels are adequate for the transfer, Doctor," the technician said.

Kallus crossed his arms. This all sounded too complicated, and it was making him nervous. He watched Thrawn with nervous eyes.

"Alright, here we go," Kalonia said. With practiced hands, she quickly lifted the oxygen tube from the conduit leading into his throat and placed the cap in its place. "Go ahead, breathe for us."

With labored lungs, Thrawn of his own volition, took his first breath in days. He closed his eyes as he concentrated. It was tough as he sought a natural rhythm of breathing, but it was a good feeling. Because of the nature of the tube in his throat, a phlegmy and labored hiss emitted with every inhale, but Thrawn was free. A hand pressed upon his shoulder, and Thrawn found Doctor Kalonia when he fluttered open his eyes.

"Keep your eyes open for me," Kalonia said, as she shined a light to his pupils. She glanced over her shoulder to the medical technician. "Oh-two levels?"

"Steady for the moment."

"How…" Thrawn immediately clinched his eyes shut. His voice was small and hoarse.

"Remember, the trach-tube requires more effort," Kalonia said.

Thrawn kept his eyes closed as he settled himself with the odd feeling. His throat felt so dry yet numb at the same time as medicine still flowed through him. He furrowed his brow before opening shining crimson orbs again.

"How long. Has it been?" Thrawn asked through rasping breath.

"About two standard cycles since bringing you to base," Kallus said, walking closer to Thrawn's bedside, opposite Kalonia. Thrawn's gaze was sharp despite the exhaustion. It was like he was giving a report to his Grand Admiral again. He felt the aura of the time he served as Agent Kallus of the Empire. Kallus grimaced at the feeling. "Almost three if you count travel-time," Kallus said with a hush.

Thrawn's eyes widened. Nearly three days?

Kalonia grabbed the tablet. "It's prudent that we establish a baseline, now that you're able to speak. Please state your name and rank duties for my records."

Thrawn shifted a questioning gaze to Kalonia and met her piercingly certain observation with a grand admiral's wit. He knew what answer she expected; this was merely a doctor's checklist. An evaluation of memory and competence.

Kallus stilled as he saw Thrawn's eyes lose focus.

"My name…," Thrawn began, his soft voice trailing off as he turned straight and rasped contemplative breaths. He seemed to entrench himself into the depths of his mind. Kallus couldn't help but shudder slightly at the sound of his strained breathing.

"Yes, please. Let's begin with your name," Kalonia said, her tone perhaps gentle as she watched him closely.

Kallus suddenly feared that the Empire's mixture of skirtopanol and lotiramine had affected Thrawn entirely too much. Could he not even recall his name?

But though he was beyond naturally tired, Thrawn's mind was completely present. Thrawn's mind was burdened, yet he had slowly decided to reveal part of that burden.

Yes, Thrawn knew what answer they all expected… Though Chiss did not do what was expected…

"My name…," Thrawn began slowly and regally again between scratchy breath. "Is Mitth'raw'nuruodo…"

"O… okay, how do you-" Kalonia began as she started to edit her datapad.

"And I am a Commander… of the Expansionary Defense Fleet…" Thrawn moved his piercing crimson gaze between Kallus and Kalonia, observing their surprise between breaths. "Servant of the Chiss Ascendancy…" Kallus' eyes had gone wide while Kalonia stood stunned, her frustration replaced. "My mission set forth by the Aristocra remains at hand. As a representative of my people, I request an audience with Senator Mon Mothma."