"I want you to find out who Taxix is," his sister was saying with a frown. Her body was ridgid, in that determined stance that she got when she had her mind set on something and was not going to give it up. "I already asked Thrawn and he said he had no one on his ship with that name."

Uriellien was leaning against her cabin doorway in the Crimson Asp with his arms crossed in front of his chest and his legs crossed at his feet. "Why are you looking for a Taxix?"

"He was the trooper that helped me into the house," she said, "during the fire fight on Ryloth."

Uriellien laughed. "You don't have to thank him, Sola," he explained. "That's his job. To follow orders. You don't get thanks for that."

Her frown deepened. They had been orbiting Astarrax for two days, and she'd been snappy the entire time. He guessed it was the prospect of going home, which she would be doing the next day. He would certainly be snappy if he had to return home to grumpy Teo Tristane. As it was, he had called four times already asking her when she was returning, thwarting her plans to visit family on the planet.

Or, perhaps, it was the result of leaving Ryloth. She'd gotten along with Thrawn better than he had seen her get on with anyone in a long time. The two of them would have their own conversations during tea, almost excluding the other officers in the room with their talk of art concepts or philosophical points. Most of it Uriellien didn't care for, and therefore hadn't paid attention. But the two of them got along so well, they'd begun to have digestif after dinner—and no one else was invited.

Not a bad thing in his eyes. He'd have an easier time getting some of those defenders for his own if Thrawn and Sola were friends. He could have her ask him…

"He saved Nasiri's life," she said emphatically. "And he might have saved mine. Either way, he put his life in danger to help other people. He does deserve thanks for that."

"Who the hell is Nasiri?" Uriellien asked, drawing his brows together.

Sola huffed. "The girl who got her leg all mangled! She's on Thrawn's ship." Her face softened as she drew her own brows together. "Stars, Uri, she is a child. She couldn't have been any older than Zhizhi," she said.

"Your daughter is older than you give her credit for," he replied. "She's a University student, Sola, not a teenager."

"She is still a teenager!" Sola said hotly. "She hasn't reached twenty yet!" Uriellien imagined she still saw both of her children as small, and not almost fully grown adults that they were.

"If she'd joined the Navy, she'd have been in for three years now," he said. "That's not a child."

She shook her head in obvious motherly denial.

"You had fought in a war for 9 years by her age!"

"That's not the same thing," she said.

"How is it not the same thing?" he argued. "We were shooting people and getting shot at. She's just going to school."

She glared daggers at him.

Their standoff was interrupted by Uriellien's com indicating. He reached for it and brought it to his mouth. "Yes?"

"Admiral, we've caught some rebels on the ship," a mechanical voice came through. "They're being brought to detention now."

"On my way." Uriellien put his com back in his pocket. "Looks like you get another look at some rebel," he told his sister.

"What are rebels doing on the ship?" Sola asked, taking up step beside him. "How did they get onboard?"

"Those are questions we will have an answer to shortly," Uriellien said calmly, as if finding a rebel on his ship was not an alarming proposition.

"You seem rather unbothered about this whole thing," Sola cautiously noted. "Rebels are on your ship uninvited!"

They reached the lift and Uriellien gestured her inside. "That means they are desperate for something," he said. "Which is a good sign." He smiled down at her as the lift started. "It means that we are doing our job."

"You mean they are desperate enough to come aboard a star destroyer to find whatever it is that they are looking for?" she asked.

Uriellien nodded. "They didn't come aboard for tea, Sola," he admonished. "They obviously need something, whether it is items or information, and they felt the place to get it was here." He raised his eyebrows. "Not a good choice on their part."

The lift stopped and swished open, revealing two stormtroopers waiting for them. "This way, sir," said one.

"Details, please," Uriellien said with an edge to his voice.

"We found them in the hangar bay trying to steal a shuttle to get off the ship, sir," said the stormtrooper.

"Trying to get off?" Uriellien asked. "How, exactly, did they get onboard?" The click of their boots in the hallway seemed to emphasize his words.

"We don't know that yet, sir," the stormtrooper replied, uncertainty in his tinny voice.

Uriellien let out a huff, noticing that his sister was studying him as her shorter legs pumped to keep up. "What?" he asked her, giving her a sidelong glance.

She smiled and shook her head. "Nothing," she replied.

It wasn't nothing, not with that enjoyable smile on her face. "What do you find so amusing?" he asked without amusement.

Still smiling, she answered, "I like seeing you act all grand admiral."

He gave her a sidelong glance. "Admiring your handiwork?"

"Your handiwork," she corrected. "You're the one who got here."

"I wouldn't have done it without you," he said quietly.

She seemed to like the admission, for she beamed a smile at him and blushed slightly, but not enough to show the swirls on the sides of cheeks. He felt a wave of satisfaction when she smiled like that, like he had won a point in an unspoken game between the two of them. It reminded him that she was not an impenetrable fortress, but a woman he could charm, like any other.

They arrived at the detention room, and Uriellien motioned for the stormtroopers to open the door. "Who do we have here?" he asked when the occupants were revealed. Each sat on the bench that was built into the wall, the only thing in the room.

Sola let out a gasp.

It was occupied by three people, a human male and female, and a purple round head, large eyes, and pointed ears gave him a distinctly feline appearance. He was striated on his muscled arms, which showed fully from the sleeveless shirt he wore. His digitigrade feet, each toe ending in a talon, clicked on the floor as he stood up at Uriellien's entrance.

"A lasat in this sector of the galaxy?Who is also a rebel?" The grand admiral chuckled. "You must be Garazeb Orrielios."