Thrawn was called to see Emperor Palpatine for a routine meeting of mapping out the stable hyperlanes in the Unknown Regions of space past the edges of the Galactic Empire. Nothing out of the ordinary had occurred until the end, when the Emperor made the comment, "You go to see your friend, Madame Tristaine, when you leave here."
Thrawn's breath caught in his throat. He was, indeed, going to see Sola afterward, but had not made those plans known to anyone. How did the Emperor know? That was a stupid question, he realized as soon as he thought it. Emperor Palpatine knew many things that he had no way of knowing, pulling information from the Force as if it were there for the picking like apples from a tree.
He repressed the urge to touch his lips, a desire that happened often now when he thought of her. Whenever she left the Chimaera, he could count on more than two hands now, she kissed him goodbye, firmly and confidently, cupping his head in her small, warm hands, closing her sky blue eyes and lingering on his lips, closed-mouthed, one step away from breaking him. He still dared not put his hands on her when she did so, but he sometimes closed his own eyes, indulged in the feeling of her lips on his, of her breath against his face, her hands on the back of his head, fingers against his orbital lobe, his cheek.
"I do," he had answered, inclining his head.
He didn't like that the Emperor had picked that thought from the myriad of thoughts he could have chosen filed away in Thrawn's brain, if indeed, that was what Palpatine was doing. Thrawn couldn't be sure that was what Palpatine was doing—he didn't know how the Force worked, only that the Emperor was very strong in it, stronger, perhaps, than anyone else in the Empire, even Lord Vader. He just didn't flaunt it. Except at small times, like these, as if he were reminding Thrawn that he could draw thoughts out of thin air. What was it he was seeing, exactly? Was it their goodbyes, which Thrawn had suddenly brought to mind? Or was it simply an impression of her? Or did he just have spies out and about and knew about Thrawn's plans the same way anyone else knew about them?
"She is a magnificent woman," Emperor Palpatine had said warmly. "Enjoy yourself."
She had asked him to join her in civilian clothes, so went back to his shuttle to change and donned a pair of dark glasses, then met her at a small cafe. He noticed right away that it was filled mostly with aliens, and the barista did not blink twice at his entrance.
"Your date is over there," the barista pointed toward the back of the cafe.
The world 'date' made his chest clench.
Sola was sitting in a booth, looking out of the window. He could see her profile, classically Astarraxi, with a small nose and full lips, large eyes and generous forehead. Her long, golden hair flowed down her shoulders and back, resting on the chair behind her. She held a cup in her hands and stared out of the window, lost in her thoughts. He approached the booth, feeling like he was encroaching on something personal and intimate, despite the fact she was alone and had invited him there.
"Sola," he called softly.
She blinked rapidly and turned from the window toward him, a wide smile dawning on her face. She put down her cup and held out her hands to him, "Thrawn!" she exclaimed quietly. "Hello!"
He took one of her hands and slid into the booth across from her, releasing her hand as he did so with a tight squeeze. He realized, then, that her normal greeting was a hug, with a kiss on the cheek, and that he wasn't going to receive that today. Was it because she was already sitting in a constrained area and it was too much trouble to get up and greet him in such a manner? Or was it that they were in too public a place? Why did he care so much, anyway? It was only a greeting.
"Do you want something to drink?" she asked, holding up her drink. "They make a mean latte here."
He shook his head. "No, thank you. But, please, finish yours."
She shook her head and slid out of the seat. "I'm almost done, anyway," she muttered, motioning him up from his newly seated position. She seemed nervous, "I want to show you something."
She led him the car landing, took out her fob and pressed the beckandcall on it to summon her aircar. She chattered about the heat, the latest Senate bill that was stalled on the floor, then the car appeared, sans driver, and settled into the parking slot. She opened the passenger door and with a flourish that reminded him very much of her brother, bid him to sit down in the old-fashioned people-mover.
She got into the driver's seat, settled into one the fast descending lanes and began a deep dive into the lowering levels of the city. He was expecting her to stop a few levels down, but she kept descending, and kept chattering, her words getting faster, about Jax's at the Academy, Zhi Zhi starting proper lab work at University, oh, she had so many flower messages to tell him, but she couldn't remember what they said exactly, but she was writing them in a letter.
Her nervousness was contagious, he found himself slightly unsettled.
…and they kept descending and descending 6000 level, the 5000 level, the 4000 level…
"Sola," he interrupted her. "Where are we going?"
"I want to show you something," she repeated breathless traversing the 3000 level.
He regarded her hard. Why was she diving them deep into the bowels of the city? He was aware of the gun he wore concealed at his hip. Was this some type of trap? What would she have to show him down here in the dregs of Coruscant? She did not show signs of subterfuge, simply nervousness. Her fingers thrummed on the steering rod, her foot tapped on the floorboard of the aircar.
"What do you want to show me?" His voice was harsh.
At the lower 2000 level, she stopped abruptly in front of a derelict building with a green shield shining in the darkness from the top of the door. It looked like the kind of place where a group of thugs would be waiting to bonk him on the head and steal his organs. She looked at it, then to him, then to the door, then to him again.
"This—" She stopped abruptly and then opened the door to the aircar and slid out. "This is what I wanted to show you." She gestured for him to exit.
He did so cautiously. As soon as he cleared the door, she pressed the beckandcall fob for the car to go park itself and traversed the space where the aircar had separated him. Reaching for his hand, she grasped it in a desperate manner and pulled him to her side, smiling nervously. "This—" she said in a staccato again. "This is where I volunteer!"
She had mentioned the clinic that she volunteered in the lower level of the city several times in their conversations, but he had never imagined it was something as dilapidated or on such a low level as this. He blinked as the realization of what was happening hit him. She wasn't up to anything nefarious. She was letting him into a private part of her world, showing him something that was dear to her heart. He huffed in relief.
Pulling him forward toward the clinic, she kept his body close to hers, their sides touching as they entered. "This is the reception area," she said, motioning with her free hand. The reception area looked like it could hold about fifteen people at most.
"Oh, Madame Tristaine!" said a Twi'lek woman behind the counter, standing up, her eyes wide. "We weren't expecting you today!"
"I wasn't scheduled to come in," she said, pulling Thrawn along with her through the little half door that separated the front of the reception area from the back where the Twi'lek female sat behind the desk. "I'm showing my friend the clinic." Her words came out in a rush.
Before the woman could say anything else, she had pulled him into another door, which brought them into what was obviously the patient area. A hallway separated two rooms and ended in an exit door a short walk away.
"This is receiving room one," she gestured, "that's where I usually work. And that's receiving room two, where the doctor works." She dragged him to the doorway of room two and knocked on the door.
An Arcona in a white lab coat stood up and turned around, startled upon seeing them. "Uh..Lady Viita!" he exclaimed in surprise, his large, yellow eyes spanning from her to Thrawn and back again. "I wasn't expecting you today!" He shook his large, burnt orange, triangular head in confusion.
"Dr. Sezzir," Sola said, her hand still clutching Thrawn, their bodies pressed against each other at the side. "This is my friend. I am showing him the clinic. We won't be in your way but a minute." She then turned to Thrawn, beaming up at him. "This is Dr. Sezzir. He runs the clinic."
Thrawn inclined his head to the Arcona. "Doctor."
The Arcona blinked, and Thrawn was quite sure that the doctor recognized him. "Sir," he said, nodding his own triangular head.
Then, Sola was dragging him down the hall again, toward the backdoor, and they were outside in the dark alley behind the clinic. She still clutched his hand, pressed her body against his as if, like in the tiny clinic, there was not enough room for them to be standing with any space between them. "That's the clinic!" she announced, too loudly for the deserted alley. "It's free for whomever wants to come in."
He frowned down at her for a moment, trying to catch his thoughts. The Emperor still loomed in his mind. Her nervousness had not dissipated. Why was she showing him this?
"I wanted to show you where I volunteer," she said, as if he had asked the question out loud. Her demeanor changed from nervousness to disapproval. She took a step backward, away from him. "You disapprove."
He immediately felt her absence, her body leaving the place at his side cold in the dark of the never sun-lit lower level of the city. No, no I do not approve, he wanted to say. Why would I approve of you being in such a derelict place, by yourself, unprotected? "I would be wary of your safety," he said slowly. She still had his hand, and he made sure his fingers were firmly wrapped around hers.
"Should I be wary of your safety if our roles were reversed?" she asked haughtily.
His first response was to say, No, I can take care of myself. But he decided to ask, "Have you ever been accosted while you were down here?"
"Of course I've been accosted," she said, "we're in the 2000 levels." She still had his hand in hers. "I fought them off. I was a soldier once, you know."
The desire to sweep her up, put her in a room on the Chimaera and lock her away almost overtook him, so that he took a sharp breath in at the craziness of the idea before it left his brain and body. It was easy to forget that she was a soldier once, that she fought in a war, that she knew combat, that she commanded other troops as nothing more than a child. She'd been grown in war, what he saw now was the garden that was growing after the violence of the land being tilled. She would be able to take care of herself if the need arose. It did make his desire to whisk her away any less.
"Why did you choose a clinic?" he asked, "and not a school? You were involved in education when you were younger."
She shrugged and began walking toward the far corner of the building, again dragging him along with their conjoined hands. "I didn't get the opportunity," she explained. "This kind of fell in my lap about eight years ago. The kids were old enough to leave alone with my parents for a little while I volunteered. Education takes up all of your time, I didn't have all of my time to be taken up."
The wheels in Thrawn's head began to turn. "You have all the time now," he said.
"I do," she agreed. "But I haven't had an offer, and I already have this. Plus, I don't think I'd want to go back into the classroom. I really enjoyed working on the curriculum and helping getting it instituted. That was exciting!"
She beamed a smile up at him, the two of them walking side by side. They emerged at the street and walked toward the small area in front of the clinic where the aircars could drop off. She reached into her pocket and got the keyfob out and pressed the beckandcall. Thrawn wasn't sure the aircar had enough time to even park itself to be able to get back to them.
"Surely you can do that again," he said. "Help with curriculum."
She shrugged again. "If I tried hard enough, I am sure I could. In fact, when I was at court last, Governor Pryce and I were talking about education on Lothal and the Outer Rim, or the lack thereof for young people and how I think that would help with youth related crime."
She'd been on that soapbox before, it had been more than one of their teatime talks. "You spoke with Governor Pryce?"
"Briefly," she said. "She didn't seem very interested. But then, neither was Governor Ophun."
The car came into view.
"I just wanted to show you what I do," she said as the car stopped in front of them. She opened the passenger door for him, smiling up at him fondly. "So you don't think all I do is pour tea and recite poetry."
When she'd gotten into the driver's seat of the car, he turned to her. "I do not think all you do is pour tea and recite poetry." The words came out faster than he'd intended. "At every turn, your assistance has been invaluable to the task at hand. You helped at both battles on Ryloth. You have helped me sort through several problems that I otherwise would have taken me much longer to think through." Without thinking about it, he reached over and put his hand on top of hers which gripped the steering rod. "Thank you for showing me what you do," he said. He vowed he would endeavor to do her the same courtesy.