Halfway to Martyrdom
Chapter Nineteen
Thrawn had come to regret letting his mutinous crew members remain aboard the ship. It would have been logical to, at minimum, lock them in the brig during his time on Rapacc. That would have ensured their poisonous ideals could not spread through the crew in his absence.
He had been hasty to reach Rapacc and secure a deal for his crew. Now, Thrawn suffered the consequences of his oversight.
"You're friends with an alien down there? How convenient," Barron's voice dripped with sarcasm.
Hammerly tried to enforce discipline in the crew. "Commander Barron, if I hear any more insubordination from you, I will order you confined to the brig for the duration of our journey back to the Empire, at which point you will be court martialled. Do not let our previous lenience fool you into believing disrespect is tolerated."
"It's just… a surprise, sir." Commander Nerric spoke up from the same comm channel. It was his first trip outside the medbay in days. They must all be on the bridge together. "None of us have any idea where we are, but the grand admiral knows a local general?"
"Yes. I fought alongside Uingali foar Marocssa during the time of the Clone Wars. This had been before I joined the Empire. It is thanks to our previous alliance that I have been able to broker a deal with the local authorities." Thrawn summarized the terms he and Uingali had worked out for the crew's benefit.
As he expected, the deal ran into controversy. The crew wished for a straight path back to the Empire and were not thrilled with the idea of making an extra stop. Thrawn was sympathetic to their wishes even if he could not fulfill them.
That is, until Commander Barron had the gall to suggest something more sinister. "Of course you want us to stop in your old home, sir. You want to jump ship to avoid paying for your crimes against the Empire."
"That's it. Your command is suspended. Get off the bridge," Woldar ordered. The shuffling sounds in the background suggested Barron's exit was complicated by a minor struggle.
"Request for permission to throw Commander Barron out the airlock, sir," Lieutenant Thorpe asked.
"Permission denied, Lieutenant. The brig will be sufficient."
"Anyone else want to accuse the grand admiral of treason? Let's hear it," Woldar challenged the officers gathered on the bridge. For a moment, there was silence.
Captain Holt was hesitant to break it. "Sir, if you would, may we be briefed on your rationale for stopping in the Chiss Ascendancy?"
"These are the terms under which the Paccosh will return our ship to a fully operational state. If we do not agree to escort their delegation to the Chiss Ascendancy for a diplomatic mission, they will only grant us enough fuel to make it to the nearest inhabited system." Thrawn kept his tone cool and even as he explained. "At which point we would have to reach another settlement with a different group of aliens, a group we have no guarantee will be amenable to our negotiations."
"So you didn't propose stopping in the Chiss Ascendancy. This Uingali man did."
"That is correct, Captain."
"How does that work with you being exiled, sir?" Hammerly's tone was delicate in its asking. Her facial heat increased as she spoke the words.
Thrawn took a moment to consider. "The conditions of my exile stated that I was to remain on my exile planet for 'the rest of my days.' That condition has already been broken. I lack insight into the reception that awaits us in the Ascendancy itself."
"We've helped the Chiss several times now. We gave them their lost kids, we destroyed a Grysk listening post with them…" Hammerly listed off the deeds. "As recently as last month, we found them in Imperial territory and rendered aid. The least they can do is return the favor."
"Agreed." Woldar backed Hammerly up. "We'll get everything onboard ready for repairs. Is there a docking yard we can land in?"
"There is, Commander, but you cannot arrive yet. The Paccian Governance is still clearing room for our ship. Their standard sizes are smaller than ours." Thrawn omitted the details about the fake civil war. It would only muddy the waters further. "In the meantime, Paccian ships will fly up to you with medical supplies, fresh food, and in-orbit mechanics. The mechanics will take direction from Chief Condor."
"Do we need to appoint a different hangarmaster to receive the Paccian ships?" Hammerly asked, wary of the presence of a second mutineer in such a vital role.
"That won't be necessary, Commodore." Xoxtin's voice was frosty, almost hoarse. "My concerns before related to Bridger. He is gone. I will fulfill my command as ordered."
"I'll make sure she has the appropriate assistance. You can count on me, Commodore. 'Translator Vuando.'" Woldar ended the comm call with the Chimaera.
Hammerly and Thrawn set their comms down as the line went dead. They were still in the Marocssa's underwater base. The base came with its own triad, one that produced a signal capable of reaching other systems. The hardest part of setting up the call had been reconciling Paccian technology with Imperial comm systems. Especially given the layers of encryption they'd added to the call.
"Whose ships are going up to the Chimaera, sir? Marocssa ships or the Paccian Governance's?"
"Officially, the Governance's. If asked, the soldiers will say they are sending a gesture of goodwill to pacify the nervous Imperials into not attacking the planet in search of their 'missing commodore.' Uingali will need the triad next to coordinate both the deliveries and the 'hostage negotiations.'"
"Busy man." Hammerly still had concern left in her eyes.
"Speak openly, Commodore."
"The language barrier. How will Condor tell the Paccosh mechanics what to do if they don't have a common language?"
Thrawn blinked. "It will be a test of both groups' patience and understanding. I wish I had a better answer for you, Commodore."
Hammerly's mouth twisted halfway between a smile and a grimace. "I understand, sir. You're doing your best. The crew will look back on this incident and realize you went above and beyond to return us all to the Empire. They will regret questioning your integrity."
"Their regrets are irrelevant. I do not require gratitude to perform my duty, Commodore."
"Only results." Hammerly's lips committed to a full smile. "I know, sir."
"Come. Let us leave Uingali with the triad. We can do no more from our position but rest."
Ezra watched the sky from his seat in Qilori's taxi. They were on their way back to Qilori's lodging, as he understood it. Despite all assurances that he was free from the Empire, the sight of a Star Destroyer in orbit dug up harsh memories from his past. Star Destroyers were a harbinger of doom and destruction. A sign that the city below was about to be blown to rubble.
Ezra had thought pulling a whole fleet out of the sky at Lothal would help him overcome his anxieties. It hadn't.
The Chimaera didn't look broken from the surface. Its silhouette still cut an impressive figure across the skyline. Only if Ezra squinted could he see the broken parts on its hull. The spots that should hold a laser cannon and didn't. To someone less familiar with the sight of Star Destroyers, the ship may even look normal.
Ezra wondered what other people thought about the sight. Were the Paccosh civilians afraid? Did they know to be?
He turned to see Qilori observing him. Qilori wasn't using the Force in that moment, preferring to size Ezra up with his regular senses instead. When their eyes met, Qilori made a series of noises Ezra couldn't understand.
He shook his head, then shrugged. "Sorry. I don't know what you're saying."
Qilori's cheek winglets flapped once. He extended a webbed hand and raised his eyebrow, as if asking for permission.
"Another mental link? Sure." Ezra returned the gesture. When the two beings' fingertips touched, so too did their minds.
Qilori repeated his question via a series of images and sensations. This time, Ezra understood. What species are you? Where are you from?
"Oh! I'm a human. I'm from a planet called Lothal. It's on the opposite side of the galaxy from here." Ezra explained both verbally and with telepathy. To describe Lothal, Ezra recalled a memory of the planet's vast countryside. Blue skies and yellow grasses for as far as the eye could see. To convey distance, he again visualized a map of the galaxy as he'd seen it from navicomputers. Lothal was on the galactic east side. The Unknown Regions (or Chaos) were in the galactic west.
Qilori's eyes widened. His cheek winglets flapped again, faster this time. He conveyed surprise that Ezra had traveled so far. Surprise, then confusion. Why did the Great Presence bring you here?
"I don't know that the Force did it. The Great Presence, I mean. I let a pod of purrgil pick our destination. You know purrgil, don't you?" Ezra remembered the bright blue lights of hyperspace shooting through the creatures' tentacles, the bright purple of their scales when properly fed.
When Ezra got to the mental image of the purrgil latching onto ships, Qilori's confusion took a turn for incredulous. His thoughts sped rapidly through his mind, almost indecipherable. You convinced the spacespeeders to navigate for your ships? Through the Great Presence?
Another shrug from Ezra. "I guess so. They must have some way of sensing their path through hyperspace." That reminded Ezra. "You're a professional navigator, right Qilori? What brings you to Rapacc?"
Qilori's mind wasn't yet ready to move beyond the "spacespeeders" carrying ships across the galaxy. It took several tries before he recognized Ezra was asking him a question, let alone what the question was. Once he did, his sense of wonder evaporated. He showed Ezra a collection of well-dressed aliens. Not Paccosh, but some other species. They wanted to meet with the Paccosh to make… some kind of deal.
Intersystem traders? No, that didn't seem right. Qilori showed these aliens sitting down in an ornate conference hall and having talks with Paccosh of all colors and clothing lapels. The scene felt more like politics than commerce.
"Diplomats?" Ezra guessed. He supplied his own visual definition of the word, to which Qilori nodded rapidly.
Tikoaks, Qilori called them. And so Ezra learned his first word of Qilori's language.
Now it was Ezra's turn to be excited. He could learn another species' language through telepathy! If he'd known this was possible, he would have tried much harder to pick up more forms of communication.
"Do you navigate for tikoaks often?" Ezra asked.
Qilori grunted. "Ka." Yes. In Qilori's mind, he got diplomats as customers far too often. Most of them weren't good customers, either. The most recent batch had complained extensively about how long Qilori had taken to bring them to the planet's surface. They didn't understand the difficulties of navigating into and out of a box system. There were few pathways in or out, but immense room for fatal error.
The sequence of memories filled Ezra with dread. "Will you help me get out of the system? I've only navigated once with the Force before, and that was inside a system." Ezra showed Qilori what he meant.
Now Qilori was back to being shocked. But not as Ezra's lack of experience. Rather, he pointed up into the sky. You brought that ship here? There are more… more of your species on it?
How did Ezra answer this question without mentioning the Empire? He had to think fast, or Qilori would sense his hesitation. See through the telepathic link what Ezra was trying to hide. "They are humans, but… we aren't friends. I… stowed away on their ship." To sell the bit about him being a stowaway, he showed Qilori a memory of him hiding out in the vents. "I want to find my own way home to Lothal."
Qilori sensed there was more to the story, but he chose not to press. All he said was, you fear them.
"Yes, I do. If Thrawn gets back to our part of space before I do, some very bad things could happen."
Qilori was listening along to Ezra's explanation, but his mind came to a screeching halt at the mention of Thrawn's name. The image of a young blue man in a black suit came barreling to the forefront of the navigator's mind. His cheek winglets were flapping so fast that it looked like they were attempting liftoff. You know Thrawn?
"Yeah, he's here on Rapacc." Ezra traded Qilori's image of Thrawn with one of his own. One of Thrawn standing smugly over him as a much older man.
Qilori's mind froze in fear at the mental image. The two men's Thrawns merged into the same person. Bits and pieces of memories hid beneath the fear's surface, but the emotion clouded all communications. Ezra couldn't see a thing but Qilori's overwhelming feelings.
Ezra felt a stab of pity for the older man. What had Thrawn done out here to make Qilori so terrified?
"Qilori… how do you know Thrawn?"
Thrawn watched through the ceiling's porthole as rays of sunlight disappeared from the sea. He wished he could be using his quiet moments to plan for the future, but so many factors rested outside his hands. In order to leave the Rapacc system, Thrawn relied upon the Paccosh. In order to return to the Empire, he relied upon the Chiss Defense Fleet of the Ascendancy.
All of his communications with the Ascendancy had gone through Admiral Ar'alani for a reason. Admiral Ar'alani was the only CEDF officer who was both regularly in range of his transmissions and aware of the true meaning of his exile. The only people Thrawn was certain knew the truth were her and Supreme General Ba'kif.
Thrawn bowed his head at the thought of the supreme general. Ba'kif had been an old man when Thrawn left the Ascendancy. Thrawn wished the man an extended tenure of service, both for the Ascendancy's sake and his own.
He had no insight into what would transpire if another fleet officer saw Thrawn bring a foreign warship into Ascendancy borders. All he could do was call ahead and trust that his arrival would not spark a conflict. Thrawn knew his crew would defend themselves well, but their combat position remained suboptimal. The Seventh Fleet's illustrious reputation would not protect them this deep in the Chaos.
After several hours with the triad, Uingali stepped out of the communications room. Thrawn turned towards the Paccian general, hands clenched behind his back. "What news do you bring?"
Uingali met Thrawn's gaze head on. "The Paccian governance has agreed to all my terms. They have set the 'hostage exchange' for tomorrow morning on the outskirts of Borapacc. Once we return your delegation, the remaining subclans will escort you to the Clan Hall and provide for your needs. If your craft can survive atmospheric entry, there will be a place for it in Bluedock One."
"So they gave into your demands immediately?" Thrawn asked. "No one wished to add tension to the protracted performance?"
Uingali shook his head. "The day before your ship appeared over Rapacc, diplomats arrived from within the Grysk Hegemony. A client species of theirs. We cannot hide your ship's presence from them, but we can handle your situation swiftly."
Hm. The diplomats complicated matters. Thrawn would need to update his disguise to avoid identification. Had Thrawn not already been identified as a Chiss on the military base, he would have preferred to alter his appearance to that of a human or a hybrid species. "Has anyone on Borapacc discussed the ship's origin with the diplomats?"
"Not that my intelligence has discovered. All they have said is that your craft is all but wrecked. The Governance is providing repairs to the survivors and sending them on their way."
"I see. Have initial supplies and repair technicians already reached the Chimaera?"
"They docked in your hangar hours ago. I have received reports of much pointing and grunting between our two peoples." Uingali tried to keep his tone humorous, but it was not sincere. "Taarja is not used in Lesser Space, is it?"
"Not that I am aware, no."
Uingali watched his old ally for a long moment, as if expecting Thrawn to say more. "My reports also say your people are haggard. How long were you stranded in the asteroid field? The Paccian military saw corpses."
"We were stranded in the asteroid field for twenty-one cycles. The… most of our crew never escaped." Thrawn avoided sharing the exact number. "Your fellow soldiers have seen by now that much of the ship is unusable."
Uingali blinked. He hesitated before laying a hand on Thrawn's arm. "What brought you to the asteroid field?"
"A battle on the opposite end of the galaxy. I was providing orbital assistance to the Galactic Empire against rebels who had seized control of a planet. Their civil insurgency is quite real." Thrawn debated how many details to include in his retelling of events. "I invited one of the rebel commanders aboard to negotiate surrender. He pretended to accept the terms before summoning a pod of purrgil to the scene."
Uingali pulled back in shock. "I… my Taarja must be out of use. Did you say purrgil? Khonggian?" He repeated the Taarja word in disbelief.
"Did your sensors not observe their presence in the system three weeks ago?"
"They did, but only for a few minutes. It was a minor oddity among the xenobiologists. Their migration to this part of the galaxy isn't expected for another half rotation." Uingali shook his head. "These rebels can commune with the beasts?"
"One can." Thrawn kept his expression rigid. "To my crew's surprise.
"Tell me, Uingali: did the purrgil bring any other ships to the system? Ships that may have taken off immediately after their arrival?"
"None. We didn't realize they'd brought your ship until much later." Uingali's eyes remained wide, as if he were struggling to comprehend the chain of events. "These beasts dragged your ship from one end of the galaxy to the other? That's an incredibly long journey."
"They consumed all of our hyperspace fuel to accomplish it. The fuel we used to reach Rapacc was harvested from a dead purrgil's stomach."
There he had it. Confirmation that the remainder of the Seventh Fleet was nowhere to be found in the Rapacc system. He had expected this outcome, but the knowledge still sat heavily in his mind.
Thrawn wondered where else the purrgil could have taken his ships. Should he be on the lookout for Imperial distress signals on the way to the Ascendancy? "How much fuel can the Paccosh spare?"
"Enough to reach the Ascendancy in two jumps," Uingali said. "We will need to use the first to secure a Pathfinder in a guild station."
"Any onworld?"
"None that are free to take customers. The diplomats I mentioned previously are only here for a short time. They paid their Pathfinder for the return journey in advance, as did any foreign traders or travelers."
The thought of Pathfinders reminded Thrawn of his own days using them. Their neutrality in Chaos affairs was a front. "Is there any way to secure a navigator not affiliated with the Guild? I don't want the Grysk to learn of our journey."
Uingali considered the issue. "When the time comes, perhaps we shall stop a short distance away from the Ascendancy. Dismiss the Pathfinder, then use your memory and our maps to reach Chiss space."
Thrawn weighed the potential of the idea. If the Grysk deduced who they were, even a stop in Paataatu space would give their intended destination away. "What are the status of the Paataatus in the war against the Grysk?"
"The Chiss have prevented them from aligning with their enemies, but the Paataatus chafe under their 'protection.' They complain of being vassals to a different empire. The last I heard of them was a half year ago."
"What are the state of relations between Paataatus and Paccosh?"
"Marginal. Our systems trade with one another in small amounts. When we were still allies with the Chiss, we were seen as preferable to work with in comparison to 'blueskins.'" Uingali smiled. "No offense, Senior Captain."
"None taken, General." Thrawn thought to correct Uingali of his rank, but decided against it. The mention of his Ascendancy rank brought memories back. Not all fond memories, but most less desperate than the measures Thrawn found himself in today. "I believe a stop in Paataatu space will be the best course of action. For as long as the Grysk don't know who we are, they will not question a Paccosh voyage to their civilization."
Uingali agreed. "I will hire the Pathfinder at the station. Your human crew may be witnessed, but I will ensure they do not see you."
"Good. Our hidden identities will be of paramount importance on this mission."
"Yours, most specifically." Uingali's smile took a wry turn. "The Grysk must remember the last time you faced them in the Chaos. You began the war against them with a sour defeat. Indeed, it was your work in that battle that inspired people to try an alliance for the years we did. Returning you to the fold will revive the spirit of cooperation."
Thrawn doubted those words. "I admire the faith you have in me, Uingali foar Marocssa. May the warrior's fortune smile upon our joined efforts."
By the time Ezra and Qilori arrived at Qilori's hotel room, the navigator was still in poor shape to continue a telepathic conversation. For all its merits, conversing through the Force required concentration and focus. Clarity of thought was hard to maintain when emotions ran high.
"Hey, calm down, okay? He's not in the city." Ezra tried to hand Qilori a bottle of liquid he assumed was drinkable. Qilori unscrewed the cap, sniffed the liquid inside, then slammed it on the table in front of him. "You need to relax."
Ezra reached back out to Qilori's mind. The man was still panicking. Images of Thrawn leering, smiling, and dragging Qilori through danger consumed the navigator's mind. Thrawn's actions must have traumatized this poor alien for him to have such vivid memories over the years. Judging by how young Thrawn looked in the memories, the incident may have happened before Ezra was even born.
Thrawn had said he hadn't been part of the Empire the last time he was on Rapacc. That meant the Empire hadn't turned Thrawn evil. He just was. Even letting Ezra go had been a calculated maneuver on his path to regain strength.
Qilori wasn't able to calm himself down, so Ezra did what he could to induce calmness. He centered himself on his end of the mental link, drawing in breaths as if he were in meditation. Once Ezra drove all thoughts out of his own mind, he reached across the link to declutter Qilori's brain.
Qilori seemed to realize what Ezra was doing. The first emotion to break fear's grip was offense. Why did the alien child think he needed comforting?
The second emotion to reach the surface was gratitude. He sorted through his own thoughts after that without Ezra's assistance. His cheek winglets laid still after an eternity of quivering.
Thank you, Ezra of Bridger.
"Hey, don't mention it. Thrawn has that effect on people."
Qilori flinched at the mention of Thrawn's name again. The fear was still there, but it didn't overwhelm him this time. Forgive me. I… hadn't thought of that blueskin in many years. I thought he was far away from here.
"He was." Until Ezra brought him here. "What did he do to you?"
A lot, as it turned out. Qilori recalled Thrawn hiring him, then lying to him about his destination and intended purpose. He dragged Qilori into battles neither one of them had any business fighting in. He forced Qilori to reveal Pathfinder secrets, then killed his fellow guildmembers without remorse. Qilori waited at his regular station in dread of the day that blueskin would hire him once again.
His only relief had come when rumors reached the guild that Thrawn no longer lived in the Chaos. Good riddance, Qilori had thought. The man had wrought havoc on the Chaos. He could cause terror somewhere else for the next decade or two.
"That's horrible!" Ezra exclaimed. He tried not to let his own fear and anger creep across the link, but he couldn't help it. Some spilled over anyway.
Why is he here?! After all these years… why?!
Ezra's stomach twisted itself into knots. For once, not because he was hungry. "Because… I took him here. He tried to blow up my home!" Ezra showed Qilori a memory of the orbital bombardment. He let the terror he'd felt as shots hit roofs and streets, as people screamed from the merciless assault. "I went onto his ship. With the purrgil's help, I took him as far away from Lothal as I could.
"I'm sorry, Qilori. I didn't know about his past out here." Ezra laid a hand on Qilori's arm once again. "I don't regret what I did, but I never meant to hurt you."
When Ezra had mentioned the purrgil before, Qilori had regarded him with a mix of incredulousness and disbelief. Now, his eyes held a mix of sadness and amazement. You must be a powerful navigator to have spacespeeders at your command.
"Eh, not really. Navigating is still new to me." Ezra scratched the back of his head with a free hand. "I've been learning about the Force for a few years, but there's a lot I still don't know."
Qilori considered Ezra's words. As he did, Ezra lost his ability to detect emotions in the navigator's mind. His thoughts were too language based, too… calculating.
Ezra removed his hand from Qilori's arm and sat down across the room. He tried to drink out of the bottle he'd opened earlier, then gagged. It tasted like soap!
He was still coughing when Qilori spoke to him again. If you come with me to warn the Chaos about Thrawn, I will teach you the ways of Navigation. You, Ezra of Bridger, are the only man I know who has beaten that blueskin in a battle. You must help us end his reign of terror for good.
Ezra considered the deal. He agreed Thrawn should be taken down for good, but he wasn't sure how he felt about staying in the Unknown Regions for so long. The Rebel Alliance needed him back. "If I tell you what I know about him, will you teach me how to get out of the Chaos?"
Yes.
"Then you've got yourself a deal."
A/N's: No one who has watched Rebels should be surprised by this development. If Ezra can befriend Maul and Hondo, he can befriend Qilori. He doesn't need to be on the Chimaera to fuck shit up for Thrawn.
I have one or two chapters left this month, and a week left to write them. I still believe I can make it to 30K, but I'm hovering just below 21K at the moment. Wish me luck!
As for what the next chapter will be... hm. We haven't checked on Faro in a while, now have we?