AN: Thank you to those who followed the story! I apologize again for the delays in updating. I'm hoping life will start to settle down and I can go back to updating on a regular basis.
Regin, thank you for your review! I'm glad you're enjoying it.
FDT2015, you have no idea how pleased I am to hear that you like my portrayal of Thrawn! I have plans to write all the way through the Thrawn Trilogy, it just might take a while. :)
Chapter 6
The next twelve hours were some of the worst that Chiara had endured in a very long time. The Admiral was testy enough over Thrawn's unexplained departure and Captain Qennto had made things even worse with his blatantly disrespectful attitude when the Admiral attempted to remove him from the Vagaari ship without his chosen items. Despite Chiara's best attempts at running interference with the Captain and mediating the situation, things had continued to escalate until Thrass stepped in and declared the ship and its contents sealed. The foolish smuggler couldn't be satisfied with that, though, and had continued to badger the Admiral until she finally snapped and had him thrown into the brig.
When they finally arrived back on the base and retrieved a copy of the report, the Admiral had been beyond furious to discover that Thrawn had apparently gone to investigate the reports of a full-scale Vagaari attack that was taking place a few sectors away. Chiara had never seen a Chiss quite so angry and it certainly wasn't anything she wanted to see again. The still fuming Admiral had eventually left the base with the treasure ship in tow, leaving behind the items that Thrass had declared sealed. By the time Chiara saw the Admiral off and then got Thrass settled into one of the base's guest suites, she was more than ready to have some peace and quiet so she could think.
When the door to her and Thrawn's quarters slid shut behind her, she sighed in relief and dropped down onto the couch, finally allowing herself to feel the worry that she had been carefully keeping locked in one corner of her mind. This wasn't exactly what she had in mind when she and Thrawn agreed that the next strike should be made without her participation; she had anticipated that he would have time to study the enemy and come up with a plan without her, not go charging pirate-style into the fray. According to the report from the scout that had located the Vagaari fleet, they were well-armed and quite numerous. With only the Springhawk and six clawcraft, he could easily find himself in a very bad position. She could only hope that his tactical skills would carry him through the day and see him safely back to the base.
Despite the lateness of the hour, Chiara knew that trying to sleep was useless and elected to meditate, instead. She settled onto the floor with her legs crossed and tried to relax, stretching out to the Force for calm. Her breathing fell into a comfortable rhythm and she felt the worries and troubles of the day slip away, swallowed up in the warmth and strength of the Force.
Chiara was still meditating the next morning when she felt someone else enter the room. She was on her feet with her lightsaber blazing in her hand before she fully shook off the lingering haze of the trance. Thrass stood in the doorway, looking unsure of whether he should come in or leave.
"Thrass, I'm sorry; you startled me," she told him sheepishly, switching off the lightsaber and replacing it on her belt. "Please, come in."
"The fault is mine. I tried your door alert, but you didn't answer. I thought perhaps you were simply in the 'fresher," he apologized.
She shook her head. "I was meditating. Please, have a seat." Chiara settled herself comfortably onto the sofa and gestured Thrass to the chair opposite her.
"You look as if you haven't slept," Thrass observed as he seated himself.
"That would be because I haven't," Chiara told him ruefully, rubbing the bleariness from her eyes.
"Are you truly that worried about Thrawn?" he asked, studying her.
She nodded. "This the first battle he's ever gone into without me since we've been together. Of course I'm worried."
Thrass looked at her sharply. "How do you know there will be a battle?"
"This is your brother we are talking about. What else do you think could possibly be the outcome of this?" she responded wryly.
"I suppose not," Thrass answered, a troubled look clouding his handsome features. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers under his chin, staring at the painting that adorned the far wall of the room.
He looks so much like Thrawn, Chiara thought, studying him silently. "What is bothering you, Thrass?" she prompted gently after a few moments.
Thrass sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that reminded Chiara acutely of Thrawn. He probably picked that up from him, she mused, waiting as he organized his thoughts.
"I have been considering how best to get my brother out of this mess he has gotten himself into and how to keep him from making matters worse," he told her finally. "I agree that sending you elsewhere for a time might not be a bad idea, but what is to stop Thrawn from continuing these strikes of his when you are gone? I think the best solution is to ask Admiral Ar'alani to oversee the operations on the base for a time."
Chiara bit back a sigh of exasperation and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Didn't you learn anything when you tried to pair Thrawn off with that Syndic, Thrass? It will never work. Thrawn is too clever for that, as his trick of sneaking a cruiser and escort of six fighters out from under the Admiral's nose should point out. He's not just going to sit by and watch as enemies close in around the Ascendancy; it's not in his nature. If there is one thing I have learned about him in the last few years it is that he is fiercely protective. If he can do something to stop these threats to the Ascendancy, he will, regardless of the cost to himself. I don't want to see him get himself released by the Eighth family or, worse, exiled, any more than you do, but I also can't justify trying to restrain him from following his conscience and protecting the Chiss from their enemies."
"They are not enemies of the Ascendancy until they commit an act of aggression against us," Thrass reminded her stiffly.
"There are other ways of committing acts of aggression without actually firing a weapon or staging an invasion, Thrass," Chiara pointed out.
"Not according to Chiss military doctrine," he snapped. "This is not your Republic, nor do we operate by your rules."
"This isn't about rules, Thrass. It's about reality," Chiara told him, shaking her head. "I have lived nearly four hundred years and seen more conflicts and all-out wars than I can count. I've had plenty of time to try things both ways and to grapple with the morality of both options. I prefer not to strike first and to let my enemy make the first move, but there have been times when doing this would have cost the life of someone else. I struggled with this for a long time. I am a defender of peace and justice. How, then, can I be the one to precipitate a fight? But, at the same time, how can I justify standing by and watching as an innocent life is ended because I refuse to make the first strike? Does the victim have no claim on my protection? Bringing justice to the aggressor doesn't bring back the one they have killed. Does justice truly bring any comfort to their family? And if that first death escalates things into an all-out war because of the status of the person who was murdered and even more deaths happen as a result, how can I allow that bloodbath to happen when I could have prevented it by striking first?"
"I eventually concluded that it is sometimes better to make a preemptive strike. If I can stand by and watch an innocent be killed, how am I any better than the one who pulled the trigger? And if I can prevent further bloodshed by taking a single life, is this not better than allowing countless more to suffer and die?" Chiara pointed out.
"Nevertheless, this is not the Chiss way," Thrass insisted, his posture rigid, clearly unmoved.
"So you would prefer to let your enemies get in the first shot, regardless of how many lives they take in their initial strike, simply so you can feel morally superior?" she challenged.
"It has nothing to do with moral superiority," Thrass said, tension lining his face. Despite his insistence, though, Chiara could feel a tiny flicker of doubt in him. "It has to do with having a set of guidelines in place to govern our actions and prevent us from making enemies and starting wars needlessly."
"And yet they are just that, Thrass; guidelines," she pointed out. "Guidelines are, by definition, a guide only and not the absolute answer. There must be exceptions to every rule and discernment applied to every guideline. A society that allows itself to get so mired in rules and policies that they become inflexible will eventually find itself backed into a corner by the very rules and guidelines they designed to protect themselves."
"The basic Chiss military doctrine has stayed the same for centuries," Thrass countered. "It has worked for us this long and prevented us from instigating wars with others. Why should it not continue to work?"
"I have no doubt that the Ascendancy will continue to grow and prosper, Thrass; it is too strong and well-disciplined to do otherwise. But how many will die needlessly when an occasional and carefully considered preemptive strike could save them?" Chiara questioned.
"If that is the price we must pay, then so be it." Thrass told her sharply.
Chiara shook her head at his stubbornness. "Clearly neither of us can win this debate, Thrass. The point remains that Thrawn puts too high a value on Chiss lives and sees the more long-term ramifications of the defensive-only doctrine to be able to abide by it. Asking the Admiral to oversee him will do nothing to change that and he will just find a way to go around her."
"And yet if he cannot learn to abide by the defensive-only doctrine, he will end up stripped of his rank or, worse, exiled on some remote planet. How will he protect the Ascendancy then?" Thrass pointed out.
"You don't honestly think that being exiled or removed from the Fleet would stop him, do you?" Chiara asked drily.
"No," Thrass conceded reluctantly. "I don't suppose it would."
It was nearly four hours later when they finally got word that the Springhawk had returned. Chiara was sitting in Thrawn's office, working on the pile of administrative work that had accumulated in his short absence, when her comlink chirped.
"The Springhawk has returned," Thrass's voice told her tightly when she thumbed the device on. "You were correct and Thrawn launched an attack again. There were several Chiss casualties and he is being taken to the medbay. According to the reports, he is in stable condition."
"I'm on my way," Chiara told him, her heart thudding in her chest, administrative paperwork instantly forgotten. She pushed away from the desk and hurried out the door at a brisk pace.
She made it to the medbay just after the medics arrived with Thrawn on a stretcher. His eyes were closed and his face was pale and drawn. Several bandages were wrapped around his torso, obscuring his wounds. Falmi directed the medics to take him into one of the recovery rooms off the main area of the medbay. He glanced sharply at Chiara when she followed them in, but apparently he knew it was useless to tell her to stay behind and turned his attention to Thrawn, instead.
"He suffered a deep puncture wound to the chest," Falmi told her in answer to her unvoiced question. "One lung collapsed and he had significant internal bleeding. We were able to stabilize him and repair the damage en route. He'll be fine in a few days," he assured her as he checked Thrawn's vitals.
Chiara breathed a sigh of relief; at least he would be alright. Thrass had mentioned casualties, though. "How many did we lose?"
"Five," Falmi told her gravely. "Several more were injured."
Chiara's heart sank. How many of those could she have saved if she had been there? They were her warriors as much as they were Thrawn's and she felt responsible for them. Would those warriors lie dead if Thrawn hadn't gone charging off into battle without her?
With an effort, Chiara shook off the thought. We did this for a reason, she reminded herself. How many more will die down the line if the Aristocra convinces High Command to ban me from Chiss space? She redirected her attention to Thrawn's unconscious form. "When do you think he is likely to wake up?"
"He's under sedation, at the moment. I didn't want him conscious when we brought him over in case the Admiral was still on the base. Admiral Ar'alani has a reputation for not always allowing officers time to recover before dressing them down and I didn't want her catching them between the Springhawk and here," he explained, filling a hypospray with a blueish liquid. There was a slight hiss as Falmi injected the liquid into Thrawn's neck. "Now that I know she has already left, I'm giving him the antidote to the sedative. He should wake up in a few minutes."
Chiara watched Thrawn's face, waiting for the antidote to take effect. It didn't take long, and as he slowly began to regain consciousness, she could feel his pain radiating through the Force. "Can you give him something for the pain?" she murmured to Falmi, wincing slightly in sympathy. "He's in quite a lot of it."
The medic cocked one blue-black eyebrow at her. "What makes you say that? His vitals don't seem to indicate that he is in pain."
"I can sense it through the Force," she explained, her eyes still on Thrawn's pale face. "It's a Jedi thing."
Falmi studied her for a moment before he plucked another vial from the cabinet and loaded it into the hypospray. "That would be very helpful in managing the pain of our patients," he observed, giving Thrawn another injection.
Almost instantly, Chiara felt the throbbing start to decrease. "It wouldn't work with most of your patients; I've become attuned to Thrawn for some reason. I've never been able to sense physical reactions in others before, just vague emotions," she told him. She suspected it was due to their physical and emotional intimacy, but without being able to access the Archives in the Temple she had no method of researching her hunch. She doubted she would be able to find anything conclusive, anyway, due to such relationships being forbidden by the Council.
Falmi looked distinctly disappointed. "I see."
Thrawn stirred and opened his eyes to red slits, squinting against the brightness of the lights in the medbay. Chiara stepped to his side and slid her fingers into his as Falmi waited, giving Thrawn a moment to shake off the effects of the sedative.
"Chiara," Thrawn murmured, his eyes drifting shut again.
"Who's the reckless one now?" she murmured teasingly, stroking his cheek. She saw one corner of his lip twitched into a microscopic smile before Falmi took her elbow and gently steered her away so he could finish his examination.
"How are you feeling?" the medic asked.
"Not well. Breathing is painful," Thrawn told him, opening his eyes with an effort. The sedative obviously still had a firm hold on him.
The medic tapped at his datapad, looking at the images of Thrawn's lungs. "That is likely to linger for a few days," he told Thrawn. "Between the brief oxygen deprivation you suffered from your torn suit and the damage to the lung itself from the puncture wound, your respiratory system took quite a bit of trauma. It will heal in time. In the meantime, I can give you something for the pain."
Falmi peeled back the bandage from Thrawn's shoulder and examined the wound. "This is healing quite nicely. You should be able to return to light duty in a few days. If you wish, you may return to your quarters once the effects of the sedative finish wearing off. If-" the medic raised a finger and gave Thrawn a stern and knowing look. "If you will rest."
"Returning to our quarters would be preferable," Thrawn told him, already beginning to look more alert.
"I want your word that you will rest," Falmi said, giving Thrawn a piercing look. "I know you too well."
"On my honor as a warrior, I give you my word," Thrawn said returning the older man's gaze unflinchingly.
"Good," the medic said, turning back to the cabinet of medications and pulling out several vials. "I'm giving Chiara some sedatives anyway, just in case you forget yourself. You can be released to your quarters as soon as you feel up to the short trip."
"I suppose you are going to chastise me for not telling you where I was going," Thrawn said as Chiara helped him settle into bed in the privacy of their quarters a few hours later.
"Why would I chastise you?" She asked as she arranged the pillows behind him to prop him into a semi-sitting position. "We discussed just a few days ago that I shouldn't participate in your next strike in any way. I thought I wouldn't even be here by the time you made your next strike, but obviously this opportunity presented itself earlier than either of us had expected and you used your judgment. The only thing that upsets me about this is that you were hurt because I wasn't there," Chiara told him.
Thrawn smiled faintly. "You presume that you could have prevented it and yet you haven't even read any of the reports, yet."
"Alright then, why don't you tell me?"
Thrawn's eyes glittered. "The Vagaari have psuedograv field projectors. We were able to obtain one, but the retrieval required moving in to the battle zone. They scored a direct hit to the bridge before we had finished retrieving the projector and were able to make our escape. The warriors closest to the blast were killed on impact and quite a few more were injured. I was struck by a piece of viewscreen framing; my suit was torn and I was knocked unconscious. According to the crew, our guests were the first to reach me and attempted to seal the suit with one of their own repair patches. It didn't bond successfully, but it held enough air pressure in to keep me alive until two warriors were able to assist," Thrawn told her.
Chiara perched on the edge of the bad, taking care not to jostle him, and leaned in to kiss his forehead. "I didn't even get to say goodbye before you left and I almost lost you."
"I'm sorry," Thrawn said, taking her hand. "I couldn't find any way to get you out of the treasure room without implicating you in the strike."
"It's all right, Thrawn. You did what needed to be done. I still say if I had been there I could have prevented it from happening at all, but I think you made the best decision," Chiara assured him.
"Good," Thrawn said, letting his head drop back to the pillow. "Now, can you use those marvelous Jedi powers to alleviate the pain?"
"Of course," she told him. "What is it that still hurts, exactly? I can feel your pain vaguely through the Force, but I can't pinpoint what it is coming from."
"It seems to be the internal injuries, especially the damage to my respiratory system," Thrawn told her. "The wound itself isn't painful."
"That may be a bit more difficult since it isn't something I can easily identify, like a broken bone or a laceration, but I'll do what I can." Chiara stretched out to the Force and ran her hand lightly over Thrawn's chest. After an extended period of concentrated effort, she finally felt his pain lessen and he began to breathe more easily.
"Thank you," he murmured, breathing a sigh of relief.
"You're welcome," Chiara told him, stroking his blue-black hair. "Is there anything else I can get you?"
"My datapad, please," Thrawn requested.
Chiara rolled her eyes. "I am not getting your datapad; Falmi told you to rest. Am I going to have to sedate you?"
"Let me read a few of the reports and then I will rest," Thrawn cajoled her.
"How many is a few?" Chiara asked, eying him warily.
"Five?"
"Two," she countered.
"Three?"
Chiara sighed in exasperation. "Fine. Three. That's it, though. If you even try to open a fourth, I will sedate you," she threatened.
"Agreed," Thrawn conceded, clearly pleased that she had agreed to let him read any reports at all.
Chiara retrieved their datapads and sat down beside him, going through a few reports of her own. Thrawn had made it halfway through his second report and was beginning to look decidedly tired when their door chime sounded.
"Come in," Chiara called, sliding out of bed to greet their visitor.
The warrior that had been stationed as a guard outside their quarters stepped in and inclined his head in apology. "The humans are requesting to speak with Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo. I told them he was indisposed, but they are insistent," he said.
"Let them in," Thrawn told the other. He straightened a bit and made a visible effort to banish some of the weariness from his expression.
"This counts as one report," Chiara murmured, taking his datapad and setting it on the bedside table. Thrawn threw an annoyed glance at her, but the humans entered before he could reply.
"Commander, how are you feeling?" Car'das asked, stepping over to the bedside. Ferasi was only a step behind him, her expression full of concern as she looked at Thrawn.
"Better, though still far from well," he told them. "What can I do for you?"
"We were hoping you could help us with a situation. Rak apparently got into an argument with the Admiral regarding the items he had selected from the treasure ship. Your brother had the ship sealed, but the Admiral still threw Rak in the brig," Ferasi explained.
"Yes, I saw Thrass's report," Thrawn told her. It was, Chiara knew, the first one he had read. "Captain Qennto needs to learn how to control his temper."
"Captain Qennto needs to learn how to control more than that," Ferasi agreed. "But being locked up has never done him any good before, and it's not likely to do anything now. Can you get him release?"
"Yes, if you'll warn him about disrespecting Chiss command officers," Thrawn told her. "Perhaps we should simply lock him up whenever one is on the base."
"Wouldn't be a bad idea. Thank you," Ferasi told him, seeming genuinely relieved.
Chiara looked the other woman up and down. She had saved Thrawn's life when Chiara hadn't been there to save him, herself. Could she really be jealous of the woman to whom she owed his life, especially when it was clear that Ferasi was only leading herself on? Chiara's gaze strayed to Thrawn, taking in the quietly aloof manner with which he addressed Ferasi and the care he took not to give her any encouragement, even now. Her attention caught his notice and a touch of warmth crept into his expression when he glanced at her and their eyes met briefly, a warmth that she knew he reserved only for her. She gave him a hint of a smile before he turned his attention back to their guests.
Chiara shifted her attention back to the Corellian woman, suddenly finding herself wondering how she had ended up with someone like Dubrak Qennto. Ferasi was intelligent, well-educated and she had a strong sense of morality, all qualities that Qennto seemed to lack. Is it really any surprise that she is attracted to Thrawn? He's highly intelligent, always polite and incredibly perceptive, and he has a very strong moral code. Qennto is none of those things. If I were in her place, would I feel any differently? She doubted that she would. She would probably have grown to resent Qennto's brash, uncultured mannerisms and begun to yearn for something else, for some relationship that was more meaningful. She suspected that Ferasi felt the same way, whether the other woman acknowledged it or not. Ferasi doesn't deserve my jealousy, Chiara slowly realized. She deserves my pity. She probably feels just as trapped and unfulfilled in her life as I once did. I had the great fortune of meeting Thrawn and being able to start a new life with him. She sees that and she wants it for herself. Can I really blame her for that?
"What about the items your brother had sealed away?" Car'das asked, bringing her back to the conversation at hand. "Qennto will be impossible to live with until he gets them back."
"He's going to have to learn patience," Chiara told the smuggler. "A syndic of the Eighth Ruling Family has declared it sealed against a command officer's claim of possession. It cannot be unsealed until the Admiral returns to give her arguments."
"When will that be?" Car'das persisted.
"Whenever she so chooses," Thrawn informed him. "But probably not until the Vagaari treasure ship has been examined and its systems and equipment analyzed. She'll want to be present for that."
"But that could take months! We can't stay here that long," Car'das objected.
"And we can't go back without the extra goods to placate our clients," Maris put in.
"I understand, but it is truly out of my hands," Thrawn said. Chiara could sense his frustration; these Corellians were still here because he had promised them payment for their time, payment which he now had no ability to deliver. They would be trapped here until the Admiral returned, possibly beyond that if Thrawn wasn't able to successfully argue for the return of the items to Captain Qennto. The last thing he wanted was for these new friends to be trapped here against their will, unable to return to the Republic without facing certain death from their angry customers.
The door slid open without warning and Chiara glanced up in time to see Thrass stride into the room.
"So warriors' fortune has finally failed you," he said, glowing eyes assessing his brother's condition.
"Welcome," Thrawn greeted him, gesturing him in. "Please; come in."
Thrass crossed to his brother's bedside and halted, eying the two humans. "We need to speak, Thrawn. Alone."
"You need not fear their presence," Thrawn soothed him. "Nothing said will be repeated outside this room."
"That's not the point," Thrass retorted. "We have Chiss business to discuss, which is none of their concern."
"Perhaps not now, but in the future, who knows?" Thrawn pointed out.
Thrass's eyes narrowed. "Meaning...?"
"You're gifted in many ways, my brother," Thrawn said, shaking his head. "But you have yet to develop the farsightedness you will need to survive the intrigues and conflicts of political life." He indicated Ferasi and Car'das. "We have been granted a rare opportunity: the chance to meet and interact with members of a vast and unknown political entity, people with insights and thoughts different from our own."
"And your mate doesn't suffice for this, so you insist on bringing them along even when giving an admiral an official tour? You think their thoughts will be of value?" Thrass asked, eying Car'das doubtfully.
"Chiara is not a social and political experiment," Thrawn said stiffly, a flicker of old anger coloring his face and sense. The memory of her first meeting with Thrass and the things he had said were slow to fade from Thrawn's mind, she knew.
"I don't think he meant it that way, Thrawn," Chiara soothed him, shooting a warning glance at Thrass. The last thing Thrawn needed in his current state was a heated argument. "He doesn't realize that, as a Jedi, I have a very different perspective."
"Of course," Thrass assured his brother quickly. "I meant no disrespect to Chiara. I simply don't understand why you have to continue to collect beings from her Republic."
Thrawn relaxed fractionally into the pillows that supported him, his momentary surge anger fading away. "All thoughts are worth listening to, whether later judged to be of value or not," Thrawn said. "But equally important are the social and intellectual bonds we are building between us. Someday, our Ascendancy and their Republic will make contact, and the friends and potential allies we create now may well define what direction that contact will make. As Chiara has no intention of ever returning to the Republic, her role in helping to facilitate this contact will be limited. Having other friends and allies within the Republic could be a great asset." He glanced at Car'das and Ferasi in turn. "I imagine both of them have already come to that same conclusion, though of course from their own point of view."
"Yes, we actually have," Car'das said.
"You see?" Thrawn said. "Already we understand each other, at least to a small extent."
"Maybe." Thrass still didn't sound convinced.
"But you came here with specific business to discuss," Thrawn said, steering the conversation back to the original topic. "May my guests call you Thrass, by the way?"
"Absolutely not," Thrass said, clearly offended by the fact that Thrawn would even suggest such a thing. His expression softened slightly when he glanced at Ferasi. "Though I understand you saved my brother's life."
"I was glad I could help, Syndic Mitthrassafis," Ferasi said in her rather garbled pronunciation of Cheunh.
Thrass snorted and gave Chiara a wry smile. "They're even worse at it than you are."
"Well, I have had several years to perfect my poor pronunciation," she told him with a shrug and an amused smile.
"You could try Minnisiat," Thrawn suggested. "They speak that better than they do Cheunh. Or you could use Sy Bisti, which I believe you also know."
"Yes," Thrass said, switching to Sy Bisti. "If that would be easier."
"Actually, we'd prefer you stick with Cheunh, if you don't mind. We could use the practice," Car'das requested.
"That you could," Thrass said. He hesitated, considering the two humans, then finally inclined his head. "And since you were both instrumental in saving my brother's life... I suppose it would be all right for you to call me Thrass."
"Thank you. We're honored by your acceptance," Ferasi told him, inclining her head.
Thrass's lip twitched. "I just don't want to keep hearing my name mispronounced." He turned back to Thrawn, his face and sense hardening. "Now, what exactly do you think you're doing?"
"The job for which I was commissioned," Thrawn told him evenly. "I'm protecting the Ascendancy from its enemies."
It's enemies," Thrass said, emphasizing the word. "Not potential enemies. Do you hear the difference?"
"Yes and no," Thrawn said.
"Let me be honest, Thrawn; The Eighth Ruling Family is not happy with you or Chiara," Thrass warned.
"They sent you all the way here to tell me that?"
"This isn't a joking matter," Thrass snapped. "That pirate treasure ship was bad enough. But this last escapade was far and away over all the lines. And right under an admiral's nose, too."
"The Vagaari aren't pirates, Thrass. They're a completely nomadic species," Thrawn told his brother earnestly. Chiara could see how much he wanted to make his younger brother understand and could sense the importance he placed on his brother's opinion. "Hundreds of thousands of them, perhaps millions. And sooner or later, they will reach the Ascendancy's borders."
"Fine," Thrass bit out. "When they do, we'll destroy them."
"But why wait until then?" Thrawn asked, not willing to let the matter go. "Why leave our backs turned while millions of other beings are forced to suffer?"
"The philosophical answer is that we don't force anyone to suffer," Thrass countered, refusing to back down from his stance. "The practical answer is that we can't defend the entire galaxy."
"I'm not asking to defend the entire galaxy," Thrawn told him.
"Really? And where would you have us stop? Ten light-years beyond our borders? A hundred? A thousand?"
"We both agree that the Chiss can't protect the entire galaxy," Chiara told him, stepping in to the conversation. She could feel Thrawn's pain levels beginning to creep back up and he was starting to tire visibly. "It's unwise to always permit the enemy to choose the time and place of the battle, though."
Thrass shook his head at her in exasperation and turned back to his brother. "Thrawn, you can't continue to push the lines this way. Peaceful watchfulness is the Chiss way, and the Nine Ruling Families won't stand by forever while you ignore basic military doctrine. More to the point, the Eighth Family has made it clear that they'll release you before they permit your actions to damage their standing."
"We were both born as commoners," Thrawn reminded him. "I can live that way again if I have to. But I'll do what I can to assure that the Eighth Family doesn't release or rematch you on my account."
"I'm not worried about my own position," Thrass said stiffly. "I'm trying to keep my brother from throwing away a fine and honorable career for nothing."
Thrawn glanced at Chiara. "If I do throw it away, I guarantee that it won't be for nothing," he told his brother quietly.
Thrass gazed at his brother for a long moment, then sighed. "I don't understand you, Thrawn. I'm not sure I ever have."
"Then just trust me," Thrawn urged him.
Thrass shook his head sadly. "I can only trust you as far as the Nine Ruling Families do, and that trust is strained to the breaking point. This latest incident…" He trailed off and shook his head again.
"Do you have to tell them?" Ferasi put in, clearly trying to find a way to get Thrawn out of this mess.
Chiara raised one eyebrow at the woman. "Four warriors died. That cannot be covered up. Their families deserve to know how they died."
"It was a reconnaissance mission that got out of hand," Ferasi insisted, turning to Thrass, a pleading look in her eyes. "Commander Thrawn didn't go there with any intention of fighting."
"Any mission to that region would have been pushing the lines. Still, I can try to frame it in those terms." He glanced back at Thrawn. "But it may be that nothing I say will make any difference. Action was taken, and deaths ensued. That may be all the Ruling Families will care about."
"I know you'll do what you can," Chiara told him.
"But is what I can do the same as what I should do?" Thrass questioned. "It would seem that that protecting you from the consequences of self-destructive decisions merely gives you freedom to make more of them. Is that really the best way to serve my brother and my family?"
"I know what my answer would be," Thrawn told him. "But you must find the answer for yourself."
"Perhaps someday. In the meantime, I have a report to prepare." He shot Thrawn a look of resignation. "And a brother to protect." He paused. "Might I suggest that this might be an ideal time for Chiara to take that trip you two have been discussing? It may help to relieve some of the pressure from the other Ruling Families, at least temporarily."
Thrawn's glowing eyes flicked to Chiara. "We will consider it. Do what you feel is right and let us worry about us," Thrawn told him. "But you don't know these Vagaari, Thrass. I do. And I will defeat them, no matter what the cost."
Thrass shook his head and crossed to the door, where he paused, his hand hovering over the control. "Has it ever occurred to you that attacks like yours might actually provoke beings like the Vagaari to move against us? That if we simply left them alone, they might never become any threat to the Ascendancy at all?"
"No, I've never had any such thoughts," Thrawn told his brother mildly.
Thrass sighed, letting his shoulders droop slightly. "I didn't think so. Good night, Thrawn."
Chiara waited until the Chiss had disappeared from sight before turning to the two humans. "I think I should ask you to return to your quarters, as well. Thrawn needs to rest," she told them. "I'll see to it that Captain Qennto is released."
"Thank you," Ferasi said, inclining her head. She turned to Thrawn. "Good night."
"Good night," Thrawn murmured, letting his eyes drift shut.
"Good night, Car'das, Ferasi," Chiara said, nodding to each in turn. "And thank you for saving Thrawn's life. It doesn't happen very often that I'm not there to do it myself; I'm grateful you were there, today."
Ferasi looked a bit surprised by Chiara's abrupt change of attitude towards her. She glanced at Car'das, back at Chiara. "I'm glad we could help in your stead."
Chiara watched the two humans file from the room, still trying to come to grips with the jealousy towards Ferasi that was slow to dissipate and her newfound sympathy for the woman. She found Thrawn staring at her curiously when she turned back to him.
"What?" she asked self-consciously. "She did save your life. I ought to at least give her credit for that."
"I had expected you to be upset that she invited herself along, anyway," Thrawn said, his glowing eyes steady on her, despite the lines of pain etched into his face.
"I was," she admitted. "But then I realized just now how hard her position must be. How she got involved with Captain Qennto, I will never understand. How she continues to stay with him is a total mystery to me. I certainly couldn't do it. That got me thinking – if I was in her place, I would be attracted to you, too, regardless of whether or not you were already involved with someone else." She smiled at him. "Thankfully, I'm not in her place. But it helped me see where she's coming from a bit more and I feel a bit sorry for her."
Through his pain and weariness, Thrawn smiled and reached out for her hand, gently pulling her down onto the bed beside him. "I knew you would see that, eventually. You've spent so many years cultivating the ability to see both sides of an issue; sooner or later, you were bound to see her perspective."
Chiara rested on hand lightly on his cheek and returned his smile. "I suppose so. But enough about that; you look like you're in pain again."
"Yes."
"It's too soon for you to have any more medication. Let me see what I can do," Chiara said, closing her eyes and reaching out to the Force. It didn't take her as long to trace his pain and help to dampen the sensation, this time. She could feel him relax under her touch.
"Have I told you that you are an extraordinary woman?" Thrawn asked as she finished, his eyelids already beginning to drift shut.
Chiara chuckled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Once or twice. Now, let's get you settled in so you can sleep."