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The moment the Chimaera dropped from hyperspace, the bridge fell silent with shock.
The battle they had left to the Steadfast hadn’t been a battle at all; it had been a bloodbath.
Debris from the battle floated everywhere. The Grysk ships and the Steadfast were both dark. There wasn’t even enough power for the emergency lights to be blinking in any of the ships.
One of the Grysk ships had a large hole in the docking area, likely from the explosion of a ship attempting to dock.
Thrawn’s face was unreadable. There was tension around his eyes, but there was no way for anyone to know what he was thinking.
What had gone so wrong here?
After several long moments that felt more like eternities, Thrawn spoke up.
“Move in toward the Steadfast, and prepare to dock. I want a squadron of spacetroopers ready to board as soon as the locks are in place. And prepare the medbay for patients. I want any and all survivors aboard the Chiss ship transferred to the Chimaera for immediate treatment.” He paused, his red eyes glittering dangerously. “Prepare a vac suit for myself. I’ll be going aboard to find the proper medical supplies for the treatment of my people.”
A movement to Thrawn’s left drew his attention to Assistant Director Ronan. The disapproval of Thrawn’s orders was clear on his face. The entire bridge seemed to hold its breath as Ronan opened his mouth to speak.
“Admiral, is this r—”
A single look from Thrawn shut Ronan up in an instant.
Thrawn turned to Faro. “Keep all systems on. As soon as the survivors are safely aboard, I want the remains of the Grysk ships obliterated.”
Faro straightened to attention. “Yes, sir.”
Without another word, Thrawn left the bridge.
***
Thrawn stood at the center of the spacetrooper squadron. They had insisted on surrounding him, just in case an enemy threat loomed on the other side of those doors. He had considered ordering them otherwise, then decided against it. He would be of no help to his people, his daughter, or Eli dead.
Vah’nya.
Eli.
Was Eli okay? He had been aboard the Steadfast, in command of the TIE Defender squadron. They were meant to be the turning point of the battle. Had they gotten a chance to play their part? Or had the battle turned into a bloodbath within mere minutes?
There was no doubt in his mind that Vah’nya would be okay. She would have seen any danger to the ship ahead of time, giving Admiral Ar’alani plenty of time to send her and the other navigators to safety.
His jaw tightened as the doors slid open.
No enemy threat was lingering on the other side.
“Jyonde, with me to the medbay,” Thrawn instructed, keeping his voice calm and cool. “The rest of you, spread out and search for survivors. I want a group of you to start with the bridge. If you find anything of importance, comm me immediately. Do I make myself clear?”
A chorus of ‘yes sirs’ filled his ears. With that, the group split up and went on their way.
Thrawn barely had to think as he walked through the ship. He still remembered the layout of a Chiss ship like he knew the back of his hand. He knew exactly what would be behind each doorway, where each hallway led, where everyone likely would’ve gone when the ship’s main areas depressurized.
They had been separated barely five minutes when his comm chirped in his helmet.
He answered immediately. “Yes?”
“Sir, I’m on the bridge and… I think you’ll want to see this.”
That couldn’t be good.
“I’m on my way. Don’t touch anything.” He turned to Jyonde. “Go down this hallway and take the lift three floors down. Once you step off, go left and walk until you find another branch off. Take another left, and the medbay will be right there. There should be nurses in there who can help you find what I need. If there aren’t, then grab several bags and fill them with all the medical supplies you can fit. Head directly back to the Chimaera. If you come across any other Chiss along the way, direct them to my ship. If they need help, comm another squad.”
“Yes, sir. Good luck.” Jyonde saluted him quickly.
Thrawn turned and walked until he was out of sight. Then he started running, paying no mind to his surroundings. His mind was only focused on one thing; dread. What he would find upon reaching the bridge. Would it be Eli’s body? Ar’alani’s? Vah’nya’s?
He broke into a dead sprint.
Skidding to a stop just outside the bridge door, he took a moment to compose himself. Clasping his hands behind his back, he straightened up as the door slid open and stepped onto the bridge.
It was a disaster.
The windows were all shattered, the emergency sealing plates locked firmly in place over them, ensuring the bridge stayed stabilized. Glass and debris were scattered all over the consoles. Hardly anyone was left, and those who had stayed were all slumped over, either unconscious or dead.
One spacetrooper was walking around, checking the few bridge officers who remained for a pulse. Another trailed behind the first, tending to those that were still alive. The third was crouched next to the command chair in the center of it all, tending to the person sitting there.
The admiral’s command chair.
Admiral Ar’alani.
Quickly, he strode over to her chair, rounding it to stand in front of her.
The very first thing Thrawn noticed was the crimson red blood staining the pristine white uniform she wore so proudly. Ar’alani was slumped up against the back of her chair, her glowing red eyes half-open and dim. Small shards of glass were buried in her azure blue skin. Her hands were clasped over her abdomen, hiding the source of blood, and the bandage the space trooper had already wrapped tightly around it.
As he approached, she lifted her eyes. “Mitth’raw’nuruodo,” she breathed, using his full name.
“Admiral Ar’alani,” he acknowledged, bowing his head respectfully to her. “What happened here?”
“Vah’nya saw it before it happened,” she murmured. “A missile headed toward the bridge. Too big to stop it.”
Thrawn glanced around. The navigator’s station was vacant, and there was no sign of Vah’nya. Or of Eli. He should’ve been on the bridge, as well. Was the absence of their bodies a good thing? He looked back to Ar’alani. Her glowing eyes still focused on him completely.
“Where is Vah’nya now?” Thrawn questioned, fighting back the urge to ask about Eli. Where was he?
A small smile appeared on Ar’alani’s lips. “Lieutenant Vanto. She made him promise that if things got hopeless… he wouldn’t let the Grysks take her and her sisters. He followed through with his promise.”
Did that mean that Eli and all of the Chiss navigator girls were safe? That his daughter was safe?
“Where did Lieutenant Vanto take Vah’nya and the other navigators?” Thrawn inquired, getting to his knees in front of her chair. “Are they safe?”
“To the escape pods,” she answered. “I told you. He followed through with his promise.”
A frown etched its way onto Thrawn’s lips. Escape pods weren’t equipped with hyperdrives, and they hadn’t seen any floating around in the mess of debris. Where had the escape pod with Eli and the girls gone?
And then it dawned on him.
The large hole in the Grysk ship from an explosion that seemed to come from within the docking bay.
Eli promising to keep them out of Grysk hands.
No sign of an escape pod anywhere in the debris of a fatal battle.
“He made a noble decision,” Ar’alani’s words drew Thrawn’s attention back to her. “You choose well, Mitth’raw’nuruodo. Lieutenant Eli’van’to truly did have the soul of a Chiss warrior.”
Made. Did. Past tense.
“He gathered as many explosives as he could on his way to the escape pods. The skywalkers were more than willing to help after hearing what Un’hee had told them about the Grysks,” she continued, her voice growing quieter. “Once they were all loaded into the pod, it was launched. The moment it was taken aboard the enemy ship, Vanto blew the explosives.”
And there it was. The confirmation of what he hadn’t ever dreamed of happening.
There was no time to mourn, though. There were other Chiss who needed help. People who were still living.
“Sir,” the spacetrooper at Ar’alani’s side spoke nervously. “She needs full medical attention immediately, or she won’t last much longer.”
That was the push he needed.
Thrawn pulled himself back to his feet, leaning over and pulling Ar’alani into his arms as if she weighed nothing. She hissed softly through her teeth, but made no other protest like he feared she would. “Continue aiding those still alive, and get as many of them back to the Chimaera as possible. If they are strong enough to walk on their own, send them on their way. If they are able, have them carry the wounded.”
He didn’t bother waiting for the confirmation from his troopers. He left the bridge immediately, keeping his mind focused on the biggest task at hand; ensuring Admiral Ar’alani lived to see another day.
***
Hours later, Thrawn was alone in his office. He’d spent the last several hours in the medbay, and the rooms set up as makeshift medbays, helping the Chimaera’s nurses, doctors, and medical droids treat the injured Chiss to the best of his abilities. Luckily, a handful of the Chiss medical staff was available to help.
They had managed to rescue a large majority of the Steadfast crew. Far more than Thrawn had been expecting. Over half of them had managed to make it to a safe place in the ship, and suffered minor to no injuries. It was a miracle so many had survived such a deadly battle.
Admiral Ar’alani was expected to make it. He had gotten her to the medbay staff just in time, donating some of his own blood to replenish hers.
Now it was just him and his thoughts.
Thrawn stood behind his desk, staring at the section of wall he had taken from Lothal. Was it worth going back to Lothal? He had received word on his way to the Steadfast that the fuel tank had been destroyed at Arihnda Pryce’s hand. The Emperor surely wouldn’t be happy with him, either. Staying in the Empire after this would only be ensuring his own death.
In just a matter of hours, Thrawn had lost everything.
That’s when it hit him.
Eli Vanto was gone. Dead. He had sacrificed himself alongside the skywalker girls, saving them from the terrible fate that Un’hee had already suffered once. Thrawn would never see his smile again, or see the way his eyes lit up and sparkled whenever he laughed. He would never get to hold him, or tell him how he truly felt, or how proud he was of how far he had come from when they graduated from the Academy together. There would never be a chance to apologize for the way he had treated him when they reunited, for the cold shoulder he’d been giving him this entire time. There wasn’t even a body to bury.
And his daughter. His beautiful daughter.
Vah’nya had grown to be such a strong woman. An anomaly to the other Chiss for keeping her Third Sight for so long. He had never gotten a chance to really know her, to be the father that she deserved. If he had stayed with the Ascendancy, they could have served on a ship together. They could have done great things. He could’ve taught her how to know a species by studying their art. She could’ve taught him how to appreciate the art of music more thoroughly.
Two of the most important people in his life, torn away from him just like that.
Before he could register his actions, he pushed the stone wall over. He watched it fall, then break into several large pieces upon impact. Thrawn picked up the Jedi Temple Guard mask, and threw it across the room, watching as it shattered against the far wall. One by one, the pieces of physical art he had in his office were destroyed. He didn’t care if the noise would attract attention. He just wanted to destroy anything in his reach.
Picking up his comm, he called up to the bridge. “Hail the Harbinger. I want it here immediately to house Commodore Faro and the survivors until another Chiss ship arrives to take them back to the Ascendancy. The Chimaera will travel back to Lothal as soon as the Chiss are secure upon the Harbinger. That is all.”
He clicked his comm off, straightening his uniform out. His face morphed back to its usual calm, cool, and collected look. He glanced around his office, surveying the mess he had created. It was nothing the janitorial droids couldn’t handle.
Once he was through with Lothal, it would be time to make the Grysks pay for what they had taken away from him, whether the Emperor approved or not.