Chapter Text
“It is said that one should keep one's allies within view, and one's enemies within reach.
…
But what of friends?
A friend need not be kept within sight or reach. A friend must be allowed the freedom to find and follow his path. If one is fortunate, those paths will for a time join. But if paths separate, it is comforting to know that a friend still graces the universe with his skills, his viewpoint, and his present. For if one is remembered by a friend, one is never truly gone.” --- Thrawn, by Timothy Zahn.
Mith’raw’nuruodo wakes up to a cacophony of voices. Without waking up, he can tell that he is no longer on the Chimera, but, if the bed-like surface he lays on is anything to go by, a hospital.
Consciousness regained. Local settings appear Foriegn. Analyze for threats.
Slowly, he opens his eyes. To his right, there is a crowd of Doctors to his left, who appear to be standing around something on the floor, yelling about…something To his left, Various people seem to be waking up from hospital beds.
He recognizes Hammerlly, Pyrondi, and Pip from those that seem to be stirring.
The location appears to be a Medical Bay. Check yourself for injuries.
Looking down, Thrawn noted that there was a lack of injuries on his body, with the only medical treatment being an IV drip inserted into the palm of his hand. He sat up rolling his shoulders and stretching his body a bit. His attention was drawn then to a group of doctors, whose voices were seemingly getting louder.
“Reo vur! Bapun ch'a bav'ei!” One said.
There appears to be a casualty. Investigate.
Carefully, he removes the IV from the palm of his hand, mindful of the bandage. Thrawn moves to the crown, his tall stature allowing him to peer over some of the smaller scientist’s heads. At least 4 people seemed to be kneeling over someone, whose face was blocked by their torsos. One of the person’s shoulders was shaking in a manner he recognized immediately.
Chest Compression. At least one person appears to be in critical condition. Locate defibrillator.
His eyes scanned the setting for the tell-tale red box. Turning back to his bed, Thrawn noted that, except for the IV stand, there was no medical equipment even near his bed.
Thrawn continued his search, this time going for the bed next to him, peering under the frame. A red frame, with the signature sigil of the Ascendency, sat there. He pulled it out and opened it, pulling out two pads that sat on the bottom.
“Tsan'ah csei’s!” He yelled, getting the attention of the doctors present. One of them rushed over, took the pads from his hands, and rushed into the crowd. Thrawn followed him, trying to determine who exactly needed the help.
“Vtiso!” yelled a doctor, which was followed by a thump. The person did not wake.
“Vtiso!” the doctor yelled again, followed by a louder whine and thump. When no signs of life seemed to follow. Thrawn turned away.
He had seen too much death recently. The screams of his crew as they were pulled into the vacuum still rang through his mind, echoing within its dark corners. The counting of the casualties, so many of his crew, people that he cared for, taught for, people that offered him their undying loyalty, dying because of his own failures. Thrawn looked down at the rank badge on his chest, smudged with dirt, grime, and a drop of blood.
He could see the remains of his crew, all 100 of them, slowly getting up now. Most were stretching, rolling shoulders, and necks. It seemed that many were just waking up.
Crew personnel appears to be weary and nervous. Reassure them of their safety.
Several pairs of eyes tracked him, blearily. He moved closer the where his crew had congregated, all looking toward him for guidance.
Did he deserve it? Could he give them what they wanted?
A gasp from behind him causes him to turn around.
The crowd of doctors behind had seemed less tense, less worried than before. Thrawn steps closer, trying to get a look at the person who looked to be stabilized and sitting up. Pushing past a few nurses who were moving away, his eyes widen when he sees the figure on the floor.
And Ezra Bridger’s gaze stares right back.
~~~~~~~~~
If it had happened to someone else, Eli would have laughed.
But, now, it just made him frustrated.
“SENIOR NAVIGATOR VAH’NYA! YOU WILL OPEN THE DOOR THIS INSTANT. THAT IS AN ORDER!.”
His outburst drew stares from passersby, but he just gave them his best glare and began pounding on the door harder.
The woman to his side let out a chuckle. “She’s not going to open it anytime soon,” she said “Not when she is still very pissed at you.”
“Can it,” He replied, “Or I’ll have you demoted.”
He wouldn’t, and she knew that.
“Perhaps your abilities are best served elsewhere?” Che’ri asked amusingly. “Vah’nya is still displeased with your actions today.”
Displeasing was an understatement. After Ezra had been resuscitated, she moved him to the Navigator medical room and locked Eli out. He didn’t need the Sight to feel the rage flowing off of her.
He relaxes against the door, pressing his forehead against it. Now was not the time to be losing yourself he thought, not when your old crew has just woken up.
Eli straightens himself, fixing his cap and rank badge. “Stay here.” he instructs Che’ri , “And comm me if anything is needed.”
She responds with a smile and a lazy salute.
He begins walking to the guest barracks, where, he knows the crew has been moved to. The bustle around him continues, flowing like a swarm of ants. Eli is merely one among them.
When the door of the guest barracks, his throat goes dry. He has been away for so long, the crew might have well been new people to him. But this was his responsibility. This was his duty.
Clearing his throat, Eli knocks on the door. It opened automatically, revealing the multitude of people. He awkwardly squeezed through, pausing to greet the occasional old friend, shaking hands with old comrades. Memories rush to his mind, and times of happiness, carefree, and genuine friendship rush into his mind. Even more glaring is the fact that several people are missing, lost in the crash. Their lack of presence was noticed, and Eli offered a quick prayer for them.
Eli finds Thrawn sitting in the back, sitting in a manner reminiscent of a meditative position. His eyes are closed, yet he is not oblivious to the environment around him. Eli takes a seat beside him, waiting for Thrawn to respond to his presence.
He does not have to wait for long.
“You seemed tired.”
Eli turned to face Thrawn completely, finding his red eyes looking at him in a curious glance.
“I have a lot of questions.” Eli responded.
“I am sure of that.” Thrawn turns to Eli fully then, slipping out his legs from their crossed position. He seemed to look so old. Old like a man who has seen too much, done too much, and failed in every aspect.
There is a sigh that escapes Thrawn. Eli lets him collect his thoughts, piece together a statement from that convoluted mind of his.
“I thought that when I finally came here, my issues would be resolved.”
Eli raised an eyebrow at that statement. “Have they not?”
Thrawn merely shrugs, looking away from him. “I fear they have only begun.”
He reaches to put a hand on the former grand admiral’s shoulder. The muscles underneath seem tense and stiff, and even flinch away from the contact.
“At least we are finally together again.”
Thrawn’s mouth lifts slightly in amusement.
“Yes, I suppose they are.”
End of Book One.