The bells tolled their grim, melancholic tune, as the sky was dark and weeping, soaking the attendants where they stood. No smiles were worn on the faces of the select few who had been chosen to attend this execution, and the firing squad seemed even more forlorn.
Alexios, honorable to a fault, had decided that Thrawn would not face the public in the town square to be hung like a common murderer, but rather a private execution by a blaster shot in the palace courtyard, attending by only the new courtiers, the royal family, and a few officers.
From the far end of the open yard came Thrawn, his hands cuffed behind his back, escorted by two of the Excorsitoi. His old uniform had been given back to him, and for this occasion, he had been shaved off his beard and had his hair trimmed, as befitting an officer of his rank.
It was quite ironic, Irene thought. They were dressing him up to die.
They stopped before a stake set up in the middle of the courtyard. The guards quickly undid his handcuffs and proceeded to place him in front of the stake, tying his hands behind it.
Her brother walked before the disgraced Chiss admiral, studying him as the firing squad marched into place.
A long moment of silence passed between the two, before Alexios spoke, in his monotone, solemn voice.
"If you have any words, sir now is the time," he requested.
"I only request this, your grace," Thrawn spoke, clear and calm as ever, "that you give my body to my family on Csilla, so that I may have an honorable burial, and that you take the threats from the Unknown Region seriously."
Alexios stood still for a short moment, then nodded tersely, and walked away from the stake, coming to join Irene and the others in the small crowd.
The firing squad turned to face the admiral, who looked on blankly as if he had accepted his fate and was just counting down to the inevitable before another guard put a blindfold over his eyes.
"Squad, attention!"
The squad stood ramrod straight.
"Firing party, load weapons!" the sergeant commanded.
In perfect unison, the firing squad loaded their cartridges into their blaster rifles. However, only one cartridge was loaded with any charge. The rest were blank, for no one could know who fired the shot.
"Firing party, ready weapons!" was the command given.
The squad all aimed their weapons at Thrawn. The air became so tense that you could cut it with a lightsaber. And then...the pregnant pause gave birth to one, simple, loud command.
"Squad, FIRE!"
Five rifles crackled, one bolt flew.
That bolt sped its way through the heart of the Chiss admiral, burning through his body, through the stake, and hitting the sandbags placed behind them, dissipating in the cool dirt. Thrawn's body jerked as his heart burned and exploded in his chest, then fell limp, his legs losing strength and collapsing underneath him. His body was prevented from completely falling over by the stake, and thus the corpse came to a sort of "sitting" position as his head tilted forward.
A medic ran up and checked on Thrawn, and after a long, silent moment, shook his head.
"Prisoner is confirmed deceased. Time of death is 1505, on the 12th of November, 7975."
Irene let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. It was done, then. The man who was responsible for assaulting their home and killing so many men, women, and children was dead.
So why wasn't she...happy?
Deep down, she knew the true reason why, though right now she did not want to admit it to herself. The man who killed her father was still at large. The woman who had betrayed her was still at large. The grief and the depression were still there, but now it was being replaced by something else, something she didn't really know she was even capable of.
Anger.
Rage.
Hate was beginning to well up inside her. She loved Moreena, and she had repaid that love with treachery. Now, she wanted nothing more than to see her brother bring her Moreena's head and mount it on a spike for all to see, along with Vader's.
Patience, something inside her said, you will have your vengeance against all who wronged you and your country soon enough. Your brother will see to it that the Hutts, the Empire, and your traitorous former lover pay dearly for this.
She shook her head. She shouldn't be wanting this! Her father had warned them of the folly of their ancestors who had been among the ranks of the old Sith, of how they let their rage and lust for revenge destroy them time and time again. The Patriarch and all the priests of the Triad also warned those who submitted fully to bloodlust would damn their souls to oblivion.
But why did Moreena deserve forgiveness? She betrayed the family that took her in and loved her as one of their own. Irene had even planned on courting her for her hand after the wedding- damn what the church thought!
It was with these conflicting thoughts churning in her head like a storm that she hurriedly walked out of the courtyard back to her room, not bothering to see Thrawn's lifeless corpse being dragged away by the soldiers to be interned for transportation to the Chiss Ascendancy.
And unknown to her, her brother followed close behind.
Arcadia was so beautiful this time of year, she mused silently and absently.
The weather was cooling, and most people were beginning to wear sweaters or jackets to keep warm in the cool, crisp air. Trees around the northern hemisphere were beginning to shed their leaves, turning the foliage from green to beautiful shades of orange, yellow, brown...and red.
Soon, winter would be upon the capital, blanketing the lands in white snow and grey clouds. Fitting, she thought. Winter was known to be a time of darkness and death, and many young men and women, not to mention countless civilians in the Outer Rim and elsewhere, were going to die in the fires and horror of war.
Her thoughts were still churning after the execution. By all rights, she should be glad that her brother was taking the fight to the enemy which had wounded them so. She wanted vengeance as much as her brother...and yet she didn't. Before the Red Wedding, she hadn't experienced someone dying violently before. She was only an infant when her mother had died from the influenza epidemic that had swept through the Outer Rim, and due to her palace upbringing, she had been largely inundated from the harsh realities of the galaxy. Sure, she had seen poverty, crime, drug addiction, and despair aplenty on her charitable missions to the Blood Gulch, but she had never before that night seen a man's throat ripped open, nor did she hear how sentients screamed when wounded and dying.
She never knew just how much blood was in a person's body until she saw it cover the floor in that reception hall like red water.
She heard a sharp rap at her door. She did not bother turning to see who it was. She already knew.
"How are you holding up?"
The way that Alexios phrased it, it almost sounded like a command rather than a question, though she knew her brother well enough to realize that he was meaning well.
"I don't know, big brother," she answered, feeling distant from him right now. "Other than being betrayed by my closest friend and seeing my father and most of the people I knew growing up being murdered in front of my eyes by guests we had invited into our home, I'm perfectly peachy."
Alexios said nothing, choosing to shut the door. Even he knew well enough that some things should be said in private, after all.
"Sister," he said at last, "I've known you practically all my life. I know when you're lying."
Irene did not say anything. He was right. He knew her too well. She turned to her older brother, whose eyes were not the hard topaz gems that people usually saw, but soft and understanding.
"I…" she tried to get out but found that she couldn't find the words to describe her grief.
Perhaps there were no words.
"You loved her, didn't you?" Alexios asked. There was no malice behind the question. Only an observation, and a tone of realization.
Without saying anything, Irene ran to her brother and collapsed into him, her body wracking itself with uncontrollable sobbing.
For his part, her older brother didn't say anything, wrapping his arms around her and stroking her hair, instead.
"Why…" she chocked out. "Why did she do it…"
"She wanted to protect what was left of her blood family," Alexios replied, "but that doesn't make it right. Our enemies have made our kingdom bleed, Irene, and I do not forget that. I will not forgive that," he said, removing her from his grasp and looking her in the eyes, "and I swear to you, I will kill them all. Every last one of them."
That night, Irene learned much from her brother's new council. He was efficient, that much was clear. To start off with, the Arcadian Fourth Fleet had initiated a blockade of Nal Hutta and its moon, and the Ministry of Law was already in the process of confiscating their former benefactors' immense wealth. For better or worse, Hutt Space was now the unofficial territory of the Arcadian Kingdom.
Some on the council wanted to initiate an orbital bombardment of Nal Hutta's surface. Others wished for a more limited strike on the Hutt Council Chambers. The one thing they agreed on, however, was that the heads of the Hutt clans had signed their death warrants when they agreed to commit treason with the Empire. In particular, Jabba was going to be rooted out of his palace and fed to a Sarlacc, or so Lund claimed, with barely disguised glee.
Long-awaited vengeance, Irene supposed.
But it wasn't all "good" news. They had received reports that Imperial forces had been abandoning large parts of the Outer Rim, dismantling all critical infrastructure, burning crop fields, and taking livestock as they went. It was clear to anyone with half a mind- the Empire was engaging in scorched earth tactics, reinforcing their strong points in the Outer Rim while ensuring that the Arcadian supply lines would remain stretched out to the breaking point.
Thus, instead of a grand offensive like many officers had originally hoped for, Alexios ordered a limited offensive concentrated on their eastern flank, intending on seizing the supply routes running through Teth, Formos, and Syvris, with the eventual goal of seizing important industry and research centers around Kessel. As one general put it, it would effectively cut Imperial communications and supply routes in half while freeing up their own forces for bigger campaigns.
At the meeting's close, Alexios had sent out an ultimatum to those Hutts and others in Hutt Space who had yet to receive him- bend the knee or be destroyed root and stem. Most, Irene figured, would obey this missive out of fear.
After the meeting, everyone retired to their bedchambers, with the curious exception of Lund, she noted. He had claimed that he needed to meet with a special agent of his on a matter of grave importance, but for what he would not say. Both her kingly brother and her uncle had decided to leave it alone, and she followed suit.
It was just now that she found herself in her bedchamber, staring at the ceiling in her nightgown, trying to calm her still-turbulent thoughts in an effort to go to sleep.
She wanted revenge, that much she knew, but she also wanted things to back to the way things were. No, they couldn't go back to the past. Things have changed too much, now. She was changing too much now. Her skin was turning from porcelain to ivory, and eventually, it would become steel, she was sure.
But as her brother told her- her family will get justice. They were the blood of Revan, and they would answer any wrong done to their family and their people with fire.
Fire and blood.
A/N: Well, here's my short little 'filler' chapter before we get back to Yavin. At some point, I'll do another Sloane chapter, but it isn't right now.
Yeah, I know. A lot of you are going to be pissed off that Thrawn died, but as I said before- I wanted to show the darker sides of Arcadian society. And here, he gets a more dignified death than he does in Legends or in some fanfics I've seen.
For those wondering why Irene seems so incoherent right now, it's because she's still grieving everything that happened. She's angry, lost, confused, and wanting to 'fix' everything, and for a Force-sensitive, that's not a good combination. Whether she'll become like Daenerys remains to be seen.
Till next!