Work Text:
Pellaeon knew that Grand Admiral Thrawn invested in a double. They never openly talked about it - certainly the whole arrangement would be far less useful if someone overheard! – but Pellaeon had eyes and ears, and his intuition was as good as one could have without having the Force, so sometimes Thrawn just seemed or felt a bit off. Never both, though: whoever played his part was clearly fairly clever themselves.
However, neither master C'baoth nor Rukh ever expressed any doubts that Thrawn was always present, so most Pellaeon tried to do was note and remember.
That he did, and was somewhat worried when it wasn’t Thrawn himself but his double present on the bridge. Granted, it was dark, and Pellaeon could be mistaken, but the other Thrawn as Pellaeon labelled the double was often tilting his head a bit left. Probably he either wanted to cast a shadow over his left ear or was listening in whatever was hidden there. The fact that Pellaeon saw nothing there meant nothing: even humans could implant comms and surely if someone was devoted enough to make themselves into a spitting image of the Grand Admiral, they would not fail to hide communicators?
And that was a comm - once the Golan II platform was attacked, Thrawn almost vocalised something, but not to Pellaeon.
To be fair, Pellaeon wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t watching at this particular moment. Then he turned back to battle and accepted the bloody message from Wayland.
***
It was a veritable mess afterwards: Rukh escaped, although not far enough, Pellaeon forgot all about his ideas and personally saw to Thrawn being escorted to medbay, and almost proclaimed to all fleet that Grand Admiral was slain before real Thrawn managed to take command from wherever that he was sitting, likely his own cabin.
Medics, thankfully, had a stim for nerves as well, so Pellaeon could return back just in time to see the smugglers' vessels escape. They clearly weren’t expecting a battle here.
Rebels also were carefully retreating: Admiral Ackbar knew when to live another day. The shipyards were theirs, even if damaged by the fighting and likely looted by Karrde and his friends.
However, it wasn’t until Pellaeon personally saw Thrawn that he could relax: it was as if a weight physically lifted off his shoulders.
A bit remained: the double seemed to have something protecting his back, at least it felt too solid when Pellaeon helped lift him to the hover stretcher, but there was a lot of blood, some of it - on his lips. Also, he still looked like Thrawn, so naturally a bit of worry remained.
So once everything more urgent was finished, Pellaeon went to the medbay. He requested updates about the patient, but got none, which either meant no change, immersive bacta treatment or that Grand Admiral overrode this. Still, no one would refuse Pellaeon on his own ship, so he wasn’t worried that much about the last possibility.
The double was given a private room, likely the one actually reserved for Thrawn himself. It could mean that he was in fact a chiss, and that Thrawn just had a twin brother, not a doppelganger, and said chiss required the same treatment Thrawn would receive. Still, Pellaeon remembered the feel of the double’s bony back, seemingly becoming more and more akin to an external corset than to a feeling of ribs beneath a uniform.
It didn’t feel like a chiss.
Once before the door Pellaeon perfunctory knocked, certain that there could be no visitors and stepped into the room. Two almost exactly alike faces turned towards him.
However, now the difference was more clear: not only one of them was lying in bed with bandages all over his torso, but his eyes were a very human brown unlike the shining red of Thrawn. Thrawn himself seemed tired - face slightly pinched and he just nodded, as if he expected Pellaeon to arrive.
“Oh, captain, hello!” the double said, his voice now different from Thrawn’s: it wasn’t as measured and, well, mesmerising, for a lack of a better word.
“Good day,” Pellaeon nodded, first to Thrawn, then to the double. “I”m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Thankfully, I remembered that cuirass you have,” the double sounded as boastful as a bed-ridden man could. “Granted, I had no time to transform into durasteel, and the knife broke through bone…”
“You survived,” Thrawn said. “I wouldn’t. You were right to suspect Rukh, Talos.”
“It was more of a mistrust born out of my suspicious nature,” Talos, for it had to be the name of the double, replied. “Still, I’m very grateful to you, captain. I wouldn’t have survived if not for your quick actions,” he flashed a wide smile that seemed alien on Thrawn’s face.
“I had to,” Pellaeon just nodded again. “But you said ‘transform’?” he asked, curious.
“I’m a Scrull. We, as a race, can turn into pretty much anyone,” Talos clearly tried to sit straighter and winced instead. “Well, not into a healed version if we get injured, or thrown into space, that kind of thing is way out of my league.”
“I never heard of such a race,” Pellaeon admitted, but then he didn’t know much about the chiss either.
In fact, if he heard about it before he suspected a double, he would have insisted on checking Talos' background. But Thrawn obviously trusted the Scrull, enough to present him during the battle, probably several, and thus Pellaeon would trust him as well.
“I’ve granted them a planet to rebuild in the Nirauan system,” Thrawn said.
“For which we are always thankful,” Talos replied, clearly almost automatic yet obviously with great feeling.
“You might see it in the near future, captain,” Thrawn said, and motioned Pellaeon to sit. “If the campaign ends as smoothly as it began, I will unite my forces under one banner. We will have to train together in order to be ready to meet the bigger threat.”
“More fighting,” Talos leaned back, clearly deciding that his injury allowed him to complain.
“It should be the last,” Grand Admiral Thrawn said.
Pellaeon exchanged glances with Talos: apparently, they both weren’t that hopeful.
Still, if they had Thrawn, how could they lose?