The guards marched him almost mechanically to his cell, one of them with an ysalamiri backpack, and all with their blasters pointed forbiddingly at Luke.

Expressionless, he walked their pace and gave them no trouble. They finally stopped at a door, deactivated the force-field surrounding it, and pressed in a long, complicated code that they blocked from Luke's view. Next, the human in charge's retina was scanned, and then his fingerprints.

The door slid open, the guards gun-ready, and Luke started to enter the room, still cuffed—

—but stood stock still in the doorframe when he saw the cell's sole occupant, an occupant whose red eyes were staring at him.

It was Thrawn. It had to be.

He had pale and strangely blue skin on a very humanlike face, and his dark blue hair shimmered in the cell's bright lighting.

His glowing red eyes were calculating, measuring strengths and weaknesses, boring into the Jedi's soul.

Luke shivered involuntarily. The humanoid made even the steely Jedi feel uneasy.

The guard nearest him took a look at Luke's face and snorted. "Don't worry. That's not Thrawn. Looks a heck of a lot like 'em, but it ain't 'im. Claims he was Thrawn's bodyguard, a Chiss just like 'em."

"Chiss?" Luke inquired, meeting the calm humanoid's gaze.

"Their species," the guard grunted. "'S name is Voss Parck." He gave an evil grin. "'E's scared all of 'is other cellmates out of their wits. Most of 'em went insane. Strange thing was, they didn't even 'ave nary a scratch on 'em. So we ain't put no one in here for quite a while."

Chuckling maliciously, he turned around, and the guards briskly left the cell, the door sliding shut with a click. Luke had the feeling that several were watching the door, for the ysalamiri was right behind it.

Swallowing and steeling himself while flexing his cuffed hands, Luke slowly turned towards his companion, preparing to pin the humanoid with a venomous glare.

But his glare was met with a cool, unflinching gaze and a curt nod. "Welcome, Skywalker. How did an esteemed Jedi such as yourself manage to land the position of prisoner?"

Luke raised an eyebrow, surprised that the man knew his name. But then, Luke Skywalker's face had to be one of the most well-known in the galaxy. Slitting his eyes, Luke growled a little more forcefully than he meant to, "What? You haven't heard?"

"I don't enjoy listening to and picking apart idle gossip conjured up by inferior minds," the gray-clad Parck replied.

Luke sighed, wishing he could cross his arms. "I murdered a man."

"You murdered more than hundreds on the Death Star, and you weren't punished for that."

Pursing his lips and trying to ignore the humanoid's comment, Luke answered, "He was a New Republic figure, on my side, and I had no real motive in mind."

"Real?" the blue-skinned humanoid inquired.

"It doesn't matter. He's dead. And I'm here." Luke sat down on the floor and leaned back against the wall.

"Consider the matter dropped." As an afterthought, Parck told him, "If you're wondering about your attire, they should bring your prison clothes soon enough."

"Great. I always loved gray," the Jedi rolled his eyes.

But Voss Parck said nothing.

Luke, whose cuffed hands were behind his back, tapped his fingertips against the cool metal. Finally, he could take it no longer. "You don't appear to be an overly frightening guy. Was that guard just trying to scare me with false stories?"

Parck shook his head. "No, those stories were quite real. You'll find that the human mind is easily susceptible to any type of pressure, when applied the right way. My cellmates displeased me with their brutish behavior, and I decided I would rid myself of them."

"Simple as that?"

"Precisely."

Again there was silence. A silence so full, and so quiet, that it felt loud and engulfing...It seemed like it was going to take Luke into a dark void that he would not be able to escape.

And he hated it, for the silence was made so by Parck.

He knew that the other was waiting for him to tell him his story, his reasons, his side in the horrible mess that he'd gotten himself into. The other was certain that he would break down and reveal everything.

And, though Luke wanted to do just that, to take the load off his shoulders, he couldn't. He had to punish himself, to force himself to unflinchingly face what he had done...For he was evil, and evil deserved to be punished.

But there came a time when he could take it no longer. "Fine!" he gritted. "Do you really want to know everything?"

Parck shrugged, a mere minute lifting of his shoulders. "Are you ready to tell me everything?"

Luke glared at his expressionless cellmate, but just then the door whisked open.

Several guards entered, and one placed a few articles of clothing on the ground. "Change into these." Blasters pointed at the two prisoners, they uncuffed the Jedi.

Then they left.

Luke stared at the simple clothing. It was gray like Parck's, and had a black band on the arm's like his.

Sensing Luke's thoughts, Parck spoke, "The band indicates what level of security is required for each prisoner. Blue is for low security, yellow for medium, red for high, and black is for prisoners such as you and I. Political prisoners, and prisoners that are meant to be a secret from the prying eye of the public."

Nodding silently, Luke picked up what would be his new attire for space-knew-how-long. Voss Parck turned to give him a little privacy.

Luke quickly changed, then, after coughing slightly to let his companion know he was done, he stood stiffly, frowning in distaste at what he had just donned.

"One gets accustomed to it."

"I don't see how," Luke made a sour face. It was strange how he had almost slipped into a sort of camaraderie with his fellow captive. Well, as close to camaraderie as the cool Chiss got.

Luke sank back into his earlier position. "Have you attempted to escape yet?" It seemed like a valid enough question.

But it amused Parck. "Have I attempted to escape this heavily armed and guarded facility by myself?"

"Guess not..." Luke took a deep breath. A question had been nagging him at the back of his mind. "What was Thrawn like?"

That question appeared to throw the alien off guard. "What?"

Luke repeated himself, and Parck nodded. "That's what I thought you said."

"Well?"

"Thrawn...He was...Well, difficult to explain, really," the Chiss gave him a look that clearly said: Drop it.'

But Luke didn't feel like paying him any heed. "Attempt to."

"He had a talent for analyzing. End of story."

"Sounds like there's a lot of room for details in that story," Luke smirked.

"I don't see you volunteering any information," Parck pointed out, eyes narrowing slightly.

"I've never heard of you before, but you've heard of me, and you know that I am trustworthy."

"You expect me to believe a Rebel is trustworthy?" Voss Parck snorted. "After all, you did murder a man. You said so yourself."

"How do you know I told the truth? I could be lying."

"And rancors could fly. I guess we'll never know everything about the other, will we?" This time the Chiss' red eyes were mere slits.

Luke lifted his chin. So much for that tactic. "We might be in here a long time."

"We might," the other agreed.

"We could become partners."

"We could."

Luke gritted his teeth. The humanoid was getting on his nerves. What he would have given to be able to touch the Force for an instant and strangle him...

"Are you trying to make me go insane?" Luke inquired. "Do you think I'm that inferior?"

"Are you attempting to try my patience? Do you think that I would give in to my temper that easily?" Parck countered.

"I guess we're at a standstill, then," Luke sighed.

"I never guess. I know."

Author's Note: Many thanks to Moy for betaing!