It sure wasn't the Chimera, but the Wild Karrde had begun to grow on him.

The ship itself ran well, at least for smuggler standards, with a reliable, class one hyperdrive, and better shields than any cargo ship should have. Thrawn spent the first two weeks aboard surveying the ship, and by the end, he knew it as well as the Springhawk. The crew had been happy enough to let him stay out of the way, preferring to initiate Ezra instead.

For all of his research on the Jedi, and the rest of the Specters, none of it prepared him for what he was like to speak to, much less live with. He gave his trust almost automatically, which contrasted the Imperial predictions, and would have been extremely useful information a few months ago. Thrawn anticipated a much colder reception from him, but after only a few weeks of cooperation while stranded, Ezra trusted him. After proving the absolute bare minimum, that he didn't intend to stab him in his sleep, Ezra had trusted him with personal thoughts, and even Rebel secrets.

He always wondered why his spies were so effective in the Rebellion, but if even a handful of Rebels were like him, that would explain it.

By the end of the third week, Thrawn had mostly accepted he would never see the Ascendancy alive again. Even if he managed to wrestle the ship away from it's crew, by convincing or even blasting them, he would need a willing and capable navigator, something Ezra was neither. With how he 'flew' the Chimera, slamming them both into a star was far more likely than navigating to Chiss space in one piece.

He had taken the chance on Vader then for two reasons, the Sith's Sight was far more powerful than Ezra's, and more so, Ar'alani had needed him, and needed him immediately. But now, with a Skywalker who's current record navigating was zero-to-one, and the potential to come across a Pathfinder or Chiss ship at random? He couldn't justify the risk. For now, the Wild Karrde would do.

Pulling him from his thoughts, the door to his quarters swished open, letting Ezra in. He settled into his usual spot by Thrawn's bunk, the bottom one, which they had agreed to without ever discussing. He chose the bottom one automatically, like he had done at both academies, and Ezra had chosen the top, as if they had done it a million times already. He said, "We're going to Kessel next."

Thrawn replied, "I know, I've seen the navicomputer."

Ezra's expression soured, as if Thrawn insulted him, "Alright, we're picking up some spice from some guy named Car'das. Know all that too?"

He ignored his prods, Ezra seemed determined to get under his skin, and asked, "Car'das? Jorj Car'das?"

Ezra clicked his tongue, "Yeah, actually. How in the hell did you know that?"

He swept his hair out of his face, it was less than an inch away from tying back, "Of no consequence, I simply recognized the name."

"Krayk spit."

Leaning on his knees and staring up, he said, "Would you prefer I lie?"

"Like you are right now? When'd you meet him? Did he work for the Empire?"

Thrawn continued to glare, until Ezra finally said, "Fine, whatever, just come help us move crates sometime."

He half-stomped out, again leaving him to his thoughts. Pushing aside that Car'das had risen so in the smuggling world, as to have a genuine stake in Kessel's mines, he could only assume that Karrde hadn't mentioned his newest crewmembers. Even a permissible captain like Karrde would take issue with an ex-Senior Captain on his crew, and he couldn't imagine Car'das would keep their past secret. During his hunt for Nightswan, he found himself expecting to hear something about the Bargain Hunter and crew, but after Batonn, and with no news on their fate, he had to chalk it up to the years. Either the ship never made it back to the Lesser Galaxy, or the client they had been so eager to return to took issue. But, with Car'das clearly alive and well, it solidly ruined his original theories.

He did know one thing for certain, Car'das could, under no circumstances, see him. The Bargain Hunter's crew were some of the only beings in the Lesser Galaxy that knew anything of the Acendancy's inner workings. His bridge crew had seen the Steadfast, but Car'das in particular had seen procedures, navigators in action, a syndic, even spoke functional Chenuh. The crew of the Chimera had barely seen enough to prove they existed, but Car'das knew enough to inflict serious damage, and had the capability to tell the galaxy.

Thrawn hadn't thought of the risk at the time, just the chance for study. With the benefit of hindsight, he could see why the Syndicure wanted to demote him so strongly over it. He brushed his hair out of his face again, considering his next move. If he spoke to Karrde about his history with Car'das, he wouldn't reveal him in passing, but ran the risk of making him suspicious, and asking directly. Thrawn still couldn't be certain of Karrde's angle, or what he thought of him and Ezra. Since Ezra kept his Imperial past quiet so far, they were a team now, whether he liked it or not.

In the cargo bay, which still had ysalamir fur in the corners, since no one seemed to sweep on this ship, Ezra and Aves were standing waist-high in crates. As the door shut behind him, both heads snapped up, inches from Navy attention. He fought the instinct to straighten up under their gaze. Aves said, sharply, "Look who decided to show up."

Ezra ignored him, and said, "We're moving 'em to the galley."

He nodded, and picked up the nearest stack.

After the third set of crates, the ship jolted harshly out of hyperspace. He was standing in the cargo hold during the jolt, and heard multiple, loud crashes coming from the galley, followed by shouting. He knew some of the stacks were too high, but neither Aves nor Ezra listened when he tried to say so, an evidently common trait in humans.

In the cockpit, Ghent sat at the controls, and Karrde reclined in one of the other seats scattered around the room. From the doorway, he could see the small, floating lamps standing out against the dark nebula, and casting a faint, blue glow into the cockpit. Thrawn settled in one of the chairs on the empty side of the room. Even during the wild Bantha chase for Nightswan, he never ended up on Kessel, but had read practically everything on the holonet and in the Imperial Archives on the world, which had proved frustratingly incomplete. Kessel had no indigenous species, and the syndicates that controlled it kept next to no records, at least as far as Imperial intelligence knew.

The door behind him opened, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Ezra and Aves step in. Under the lighting, Ezra's hair and eyes shone vividly blue, brighter than any other human he knew of. He had seen Mira and Ephram Bridger, they were both human, at least visibly, although Lothal's records were far from perfect, making more distant, nonhuman relatives a possibility. Although, most of the Jedi he knew of had blue eyes, which raised the question, if blue eyes were related to the Sight in humans.

Karrde broke him from his thought, "Newbies, either of you ever been to Kessel before?"

Without looking, Thrawn said, "No."

"Yeah," Ezra said, arms folded tightly, "Almost died like, three times."

Karrde turned to him, "With your rebel crew?"

He nodded, "Might have freed a few of their slaves though."

"Is this gonna be an issue?"

Thrawn turned as well, and saw Ezra with his jaw set and eyes hard. He glanced down at his boots, and responded, "Not unless they have one first."

"Alright, but I'm gonna hold you to it."

While he turned back to the viewport, the hazy, brown sphere of Kessel had begun to dawn through the darkness of the Maw. Even from this distance, he could see lines of beings, moving slowly in and out of the mines. The Wild Karrde swung around, landing gently on a durasteel platform below. One by one, each of the crewmembers filed out, until only Thrawn and Karrde remained. Karrde asked, "You coming?"

Thrawn didn't face him, "In a moment."

"You'd better."

With that, he left Thrawn alone, in the darkened cockpit, staring over the planet. A stiff wind stirred dust above and within the bowl-shaped depression, scraping softly on the hull. Every once in a while, some worker, often a roguish human or Trandosian would step close enough to the edge with their mag-lev crates to be visible, but not often. The exchange itself would be off the starboard side, and far from the viewport's range. It suited him well enough, less chance of being seen.

Ezra stepped into view, albeit barely, standing droid-stiff and gesturing harshly at something Thrawn couldn't see. Even from this distance, he looked like he wanted nothing more than to be off this planet. Thrawn had, of course, read about the Lothal Specters' actions on Kessel, Caleb Dume's exposure catapulted both his crew and Lothal into galactic infamy. Truly, he couldn't be surprised Ezra still held disdain for the world. Although not recognized at the time, Kessel had been one of the first signs of an escalating rebellion. Then, most of the concern centered on leaks in the supply chain and the Jedi, Thrawn hadn't bothered personally with it, but Eli always followed Imperial chatter, and not on the chance for wider problems.

Within recent time, and with Ezra's side of stories, he had given no small amount of thought to what the Empire could have done differently. If he, or another competent Imperial, had been assigned from the beginning, they would have been better pursued, their non-Jedi leadership identified and imprisoned, long before they could become anything but a nuisance. Still, in terms of his original assignment, he knew he should be grateful for the Specters. Because of them, he escaped the Empire, alive and without fear, with twenty years worth of their secrets.

In all truth, when the mission to study Palpatine's Empire presented itself, and the chance to save his name and Ar'alani's career with it, he knew he would never return. But, he could think of worse ways to leave the Empire.

Thrawn crossed his legs and leaned back, looking up at the polluted sky above. The system's star could barely penetrate the smog, but where it did, it sent golden columns of light shining down, almost like a painting. He noticed a slight stir in the clouds, but before he could consider it's cause, a light cruiser dropped out of hyperspace. An Imperial light cruiser.

He nearly leapt to his feet, and strode to the pilot's seat, where he could see more clearly, just in time to watch it release a squadron of TIE fighters. Thrawn didn't wait to see who they came for, instead began powering up the engines, as he had seen Ghent do once before. As he flicked the last switch and began to strap himself in, the doors flew open, and the entire crew spilled inside. Coolly and unbothered, he said, "Strap yourselves in."

Karrde protested, "Can you even fly?"

"Yes, now strap in."

They all stood for one, precious moment longer, until Ezra said, "He can, now where are the guns?"

That sent the rest of the crew into action, with Aves and Ezra running out the door, and Karrde and Ghent doing as he said. The Wild Karrde lifted off, and as it did, Thrawn just barely caught sight of a scruffy, tanned, human man, watching them. Older now, and slightly neater, but certainly recognizable, Jorj Car'das stared at him through the viewport. But, with fighters howling overhead, he couldn't wait to consider what Car'das had seen.

With the TIEs still looking for targets, he pointed the ship out and hit the sublight lever to maximum, sending them shooting past the cruiser. A handful of TIEs picked up the chase, making the scanner warnings beep loudly, but not for long. Aves and Ezra made short works of any following, and even picked off a few passing too close. They tore through the clouds, turbulent winds rattling the old freighter. Thrawn rested his hand on the hyperspace controls, waiting for the instant they broke orbit.

The cloud cover cleared, and in an instant, pushed into the welcoming blackness of space.

And almost directly into a waiting Star Destroyer.

Thrawn swerved at the last second to avoid it, throwing the hyperspace levers all the way down, but it was no use. The tractor beam already had them. Karrde stood to reach for the shutdown switches, but Thrawn ordered, "Wait."

"Why? They've already got us."

"Not yet, Ghent, be ready for full reverse at my command."

He knew that a complete change in direction could break a tractor beam's lock, at least in theory. He couldn't think of a successful example, but, then again, none of the pirates and smugglers who attempted it were former high command. As he began to point the ship between the walls of the Maw and the ISD, he supposed he would find out.

Karrde half-shouted, "But that could destroy the engines!"

"Would you rather be on that destroyer?"

Karrde protested no more, but certainly didn't offer his support. A Coruscanti voice crackled over the comm, but no one paid it any mind. The ship turned far enough, and with a slight point, he ordered, "Now."

All three were thrown against their harnesses with bruising force, as the engines shreaked, metal-on-metal. The scanner turned green and beeped, and with another awful lurch, Thrawn threw the hyperspace lever forward. The stars stretched into starlines, and the blue patterns of hyperspace began. Karrde and Ghent breathed a collective sigh of relief, but Thrawn knew better. Beyond the usual risks of uncalculated jumps, an Interdictor could be lurking anywhere, and failing to run from a Star Destroyer never went well.

About a half-lightyear later, but nowhere near as exact as he would prefer, Thrawn slowed to sublight. Thankfully, as they returned to realspace, no Imperial cruisers waited for them, no planet to crash into, nothing at all, in fact, just entirely empty, interstellar space. Almost immediately, Ghent stood, and announced, "I'll go check the engines."

Karrde followed him with his eyes, "Please do."

With him gone, Karrde turned back to Thrawn, "Where'd you learn to fly like that? I've heard of people trying, but never actually getting away."

A smuggler had tried it against the Chimera once, they escaped the beam, but tried to plot their jump, and the tracking lock reattached almost instantly. But, he couldn't say that he knew exactly how long a secure lock took. Instead, he simply replied, "My homeworld."

Karrde scoffed, "Well, any of you can join my crew anytime."

The intraship comm beeped, and Karrde tapped it, "How's it lookin'?"

Ghent's voice crackled through, "Not too bad, not great, but it'll run."

"Good, now get back so we can get outta here," he turned to Thrawn, "unless you'd rather."

Thrawn shook his head, as Ghent replied, "Sure thing."

He left for his quarters soon after, but instead, Ezra stopped him in the main room. Standing relutcantly, he folded his arms behind his back and absentmindedly rubbed at his wrist as Ezra said, "Look, I'm really fucking glad you can actually fly, because I'm pretty sure they'd blast me on sight now, if we got tractored in."

"I doubt I would be better received."

"That'd be a sight," Ezra paused, staring blankly, until he snapped his fingers and said, "Right, almost forgot, I've got somethin' for you."

He turned on his heel and walked off to the cargo hold, Thrawn quietly following. Ezra made a beeline for the back, stepping around and over the haphazard crates. He stopped, and without warning, threw something back to Thrawn. He barely caught it, and when he held it up, saw it was an unfamiliar jacket. It was made of synthleather, a dark orange, with brown accents, most notably scuffed, brown elbow patches. Ezra said, abruptly close, "One of the Kessel guys ditched this when the Imps showed. Go ahead, it's too long for me."

Thrawn slipped it on, and settled right in. Even rolled all the way down, the sleeves exposed some of his wrist, but it overall fit well enough. Ezra smiled and playfully hit him in the arm, "I thought the orange would be way worse than that. Now, you look the part too."