Archive of Our Own ^beta

"I suppose it’s nice enough," Moff Dara said with a deep sigh, peering at the large painting that hung in front of them.

Admiral Romas nodded self-importantly.
"Pretty colors, matches my wife's latest ball gown almost exactly."
He shrugged. "But I really couldn't say what all the fuss was about. It's just a collection of lines on a piece of paper."

"Art," Dara huffed. "Or at least that's what it's supposed to be."

"We are in a museum my friend," Romas laughed. He put on a mock serious expression. "The Coruscant Museum of Art’s annual Imperial Gala. We can safely assume that anything you see here is art.”
He gave a snort. “Too bad that alien upstart isn't here. What's his name? He's supposed to be good at this."

"Thrawn," Admiral Savit said smoothly. "Commander Thrawn. Although I hear that might change soon. As it happens, his ship is stationed at Coruscant at the moment - I do like to keep tabs on such matters, you never know when you might encounter certain… people. But of course no chance of that happening tonight. You could always ask him for his opinion later?”

Romas waved a hand dismissively and Dara rolled his eyes.

Savit smiled benignly. “I thought not. Personally, I think he's just trying very hard to blend in. Pretending he understands us. But really, what could someone with his background really know?"

Dara snickered. "Exactly. Which is just one of the reasons the Museum is right to... discourage non-humans from visiting. They just wouldn't understand."

"Quite so," Romas agreed. "Now, where is that waiter? I could do with another of those excellent cocktails."

Dorika Melun watched them go.
The men paid her no attention as they went in search of more drinks. And why should they? Standing silently in her museum guard's uniform she might just as well have been invisible to them.

Of course things would be different had they known she was actually a highly experienced ISB operative. As it was, they behaved just like the entitled members of the Imperial elite they were, not caring what anyone might observe or overhear.

Sadly, other than their atrocious self-absorbed behavior and bigoted opinions Melun hadn't heard anything of note so far. And she knew her superiors couldn't care less about those.

So what if they were xenophobic? More and more of the Empire was these days. No, she was supposed to listen for treasonous comments or anything else that might be used against powerful members of the Imperial hierarchy at some point in the future.

Melun sighed. This was not what she had signed up for. As naive as it sounded, she wanted to make the Galaxy a safer place. And she was good, she knew she was. She had earned several commendations - saving the life of a Moffs' family when they were targeted by insurgents, revealing a secret smuggling operation and infiltrating a local crime gang. But her current superior didn't seem to value her skills very much.

Her expression hardened somewhat. More precisely, he didn't value her opinions. He doubted her- how had he put it? Her commitment to the proper Imperial Values.

So here she was, stuck in a museum, observing flunkies. And though it pained her to admit it, they had a point when it came to the art on display. She didn't get it either.

A crash of breaking glass stopped her thoughts.

"Watch where you are going!" Admiral Romas bit out angrily, brushing droplets of liquid off his dress uniform and glaring at the young waiter with whom he had collided. Dara and Savit stood nearby, sipping their own cocktails and observing the scene with quiet mirth.

"I am ever so sorry, Admiral," The waiter apologized with a bow and started to help the Romas clean himself up.

The chief attendant had heard the commotion and hurried over, adding his own apologies and berating the poor waiter.

Melun had to hide a smile. All this fuss over one spilled cocktail. And she was willing to bet that it had been Romas' own fault, he'd been in such a hurry to get a drink. She quickly scanned the hall to check this wasn't some clever diversion but everything seemed in order.

"You'!" The attendant called sternly, looking in Melun's direction.
"What are you waiting for? Come and clean up this mess!"

For a split second Melun wondered if he had meant her and she was supposed to step forward. But then a shadow moved to her left and one of the servants scurried towards the scene of the accident.

If Melun, the museum guard, was invisible, then the servants were non-existent. She knew several of them were placed all around the museum to assist with any kind of menial task. Such as cleaning up after the distinguished guests.

The servant, a non-human of course, hurried to tidy up the floor as quickly and unobtrusively as possible.
"I beg your pardon good sirs," He said with a thick accent as he moved between Romas and Savit. The Admirals didn't spare him a glance.

The man finished, gave them a low bow and went back to his post, hidden behind some columns.

Melun narrowed her eyes slightly. Non-humans were good enough to clean the floors of the museum, just not to admire its exhibits.

She really began to hate this assignment.

A couple of hours later she was mercifully almost done. The last few guests were in the foyer, waiting for their transports and she was on her final round through the museum halls to ensure no stragglers remained. As soon as she was finished she could finally end this charade and go home.

With nothing to report at all. A total waste of an evening.

She was supposed to do this inspection together with the chief attendant, but he was busy chatting with one of the Moffs. Melun had had enough. She would do the rounds by herself and then tell him if anything was amiss. He probably wouldn’t mind. And if he did, well it wasn’t as if she was continuing to work for him after tonight.

She had crossed the first two halls when she spotted someone in the next room. Her tread was soft and she had walked on the main corridor's carpet, so the man hadn't heard her, yet.
Although judging by his posture she could have ridden in on a wild beast and he wouldn't have noticed. He looked completely lost in his contemplation of the giant picture in front of him. It was the one that matched Admiral Romas’ wife’s dress.

Melun was about to make a sharp comment when she noticed that it was the servant who had cleaned up the broken glass earlier.

She relented. Of course, technically non-humans weren't supposed to visit the museum. But then he wasn't a visitor. And she couldn't care less about that particular rule.

She cleared her throat. The man gave a small start and turned around, his eyes cast to the floor.

She hadn't seen him properly before but now she realised that he was a Pantoran.

"I'm sorry, "He mumbled. "I was just..." He paused, as if unsure what to say.

"You were looking for dust on the picture frames," Melun said kindly.

He seemed surprised. "I suppose I was. Yes, indeed. Thank you."

Her lips twitched in a smile. "What else were you looking at, you are a cleaner after all. But, listen, if you want to look at the pictures, go ahead."

He glanced up briefly and frowned. He clearly had been expecting to be told off.

"I mean it," she said. "You seemed to enjoy them. Certainly more than those esteemed guests we had to look after tonight, eh? And I'm sure the artists would be pleased that at least someone appreciated their work."

He maintained his subservient posture but his face softened.
"You mean you don't like them?" He asked and Melun thought he almost sounded sad.

She shrugged. "My job is to ensure nobody steals any of the art. So I guess it is an advantage if I'm not too taken by it."

"That is a shame." He definitely sounded sad now.

Melun felt there was something she was missing and it made her feel uncomfortable.
"Look," she said. "I reckon the chief attendant is about another five or ten minutes behind me. I will go back and delay him a little. But by the time we come back he really shouldn't find you here."

The Pantoran nodded. "He won't. Thank you.” He hesitated.
“Perhaps one day we will meet again and then I can tell you why you should like these pictures."

He sounded sincere and Melun was touched. Before she could respond, however, he had turned back and resumed his contemplation.

She backtracked her steps and joined the chief attendant who had said his good-byes to the guest and was about to start his own round of inspection.. She had looked forward to finishing early. But somehow, allowing that shy Pantoran a few more moments to enjoy the museum's collection seemed like the best thing she had done all night.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Her museum assignment had been followed by similarly exciting posts.

Six months later Melun had finally thrown in the towel. She wanted, no, needed more action. And if the ISB couldn't or wouldn't find her assignments more suited to her skill set then she would request a transfer to the army or stormtroopers.

At least there her service would be a little more straightforward. She was growing tired of the increased political side of her work. Or perhaps she was just not as naive anymore as she once had been.

She had made some useful contacts in her time with the ISB so she wasn't surprised when her request was approved. Three months later, clad in her white armor and clutching her helmet under her arm, she joined her new squad on a station around Coruscant.

It felt good to be part of a team again, even if it was still a bit strange to be addressed as 'Lt. Commander Melun’ instead of one of the many aliases she had used while in the ISB.

And now, a year and a half later, she could not imagine ever going back. Granted, she sometimes missed the thrill of a secret assignment, but she didn't miss the politics. Not one bit.

"Any thoughts on what posting they have in mind for you this time, sir?" Lieutenant Kerran, her deputy on her old squad, asked as they were waiting for their shuttle to land.

"Nope. I requested something a bit further afield," she said. "Something with a little more excitement."

He laughed. “From what I hear there are more and more hotspots popping up. You may get your wish."

"Good! Escorting convoys is nice enough but unless anyone actually attacks us it's just drills, drills and more drills."

Kerran laughed even harder. "You're mad. You want to be shot at?"

Melun grinned. "We didn't sign up to collect dust, did we? And who said they would get the time to pull the trigger?"

"Well, I wish you luck," He said. “Me, I’m going back to boot camp. Training the new recruits.”

She pulled a face. “Rather you than me. Enjoy. If you can.”

The ramp had descended and they were about to head their separate ways. "Oh I will. And come to think of it, I should rather wish your new CO good luck. I hope they know what they're in for."

Melun gave him her most innocent smile.

"Lt. Commander Melun, reporting for reassignment, sir!" Melun saluted smartly, staring just above the HR colonel’s head.

He leaned back in his chair and mustered her for a moment.
"At ease, Commander." he said at last. "As it happens, I have had a request for you."

"Sir?" Melun managed not to frown. That was unusual. Back in the ISB it had been more normal to be requested. An agent had special skills after all. But in her time as a trooper that had not happened to her.

She knew she was good of course. But so were others.

The Colonel looked at his data pad.
"I see you have requested a posting in a more forward facing unit.”

"Yes, sir."

"Did you ever serve with a Commander Ayer?" The Colonel looked at her questioningly.

"No, sir. I've never heard of them.” She thought hard. Ayer. Was that the officer who had requested her?

"And you didn't inquire about the ISD Chimaera I suppose?" The Colonel continued.

"No, sir. All I've requested is in my official file. Actually, I would prefer a ground assignment to a starship."

“I thought so.” The Colonel sighed and a frown crossed his face. “You've got an outstanding record, Commander. If you want to decline this offer you're perfectly within your rights. In fact…"

He paused and Melun thought his face looked sour. Intriguing.
"In fact I wouldn't blame you at all if you did."

Melun's face remained perfectly passive but behind her facade she was more than a little intrigued. Whatever that request was, it was clear the Colonel didn't like it.

"Thank you, sir," she said. "May I ask what that assignment is?"

He sighed again but didn’t reply. He pressed a button and a door hissed open to his right, revealing a corridor.
"Please proceed to room 4. You can discuss the details with the officer in question yourself. Once you're done come back to me and we'll find you a suitable placement."

This time Melun couldn't quite stop the surprise from showing on her face. Whatever this request was, the Colonel clearly didn't think much of it at all. Great. But at least he'd reassured her she would definitely get the assignment she wanted in the end. She just had to get this meeting over with.

Steeling herself for a hopefully short conversation before she could return to the Colonel, she approached room 4 and used her code cylinder to open the door.

She had to shield her eyes somewhat, the evening sun's glare through the large windows was quite strong. A navy officer was standing in front of it gazing outside, his back to her.

"Lt. Commander Melun, reporting as ordered," she said, giving him a smart salute even though he had not bothered to turn around.

Perfect, she thought. Another one of those navy types who thought they were better than the troopers they served with. Well, she wouldn’t have to endure him for long.

"Tell me, Commander,” he said, not changing his position one bit. “Do you follow rules?"

His voice was quiet, almost soft. Melun thought she could detect a slight accent but she couldn't place it. Strangely, the voice somehow sounded familiar.

"Of course, sir," she replied. What kind of question was this?

"Always?" Now she thought there was a hint of amusement in the officer’s voice. What in hell?

"I follow my orders to the best of my ability... Sir."

There was a pause before he continued.
"You have an impressive record, Commander. You've only been a trooper for less than two years and yet you have received two commendations and several citations. And then of course there is your time with the ISB."

"As I said, I serve to the best of my abilities."
If he thought he could get a response from her by throwing in that he knew about her years as an ISB operative he was going to be disappointed. Her previous career was not in her official file but anyone with sufficient connections could discover it.

It wasn’t that hard and it would take more than that to impress her.

"How do you decide which rule to follow and which to break?" He asked in that same soft voice. If he was disappointed by her lack of reaction it didn't show.

Melun on the other hand had to admit she was starting to get annoyed. He still hadn’t bothered to face her or to even introduce himself.
"Sir, I don't make the rules, I follow them."

"Even the ones that don't make sense?" Now he almost appeared to mock her.

If he wanted to play games then that was too bad. As he had said himself, she had an excellent record. She didn't need this. She didn’t need him.

"With all due respect, sir, if you have indeed read my record as thoroughly as you claim to have done, you will have realized that I always strive to do what's best for the people of the Empire. Sometimes we have to make snap decisions and I don't have the luxury to consult the rule book every single time - if I did I would have been killed long ago. Or caused a lot more harm.”

She bristled. “If you were under the assumption my record means I am saying "yes" to every order without thinking or following blindly then I'm sorry, that's not me."

She hesitated but then decided to go for it. He had it coming after all.
"And if I may speak freely: No, I don't follow rules that don't make sense. I have a head and I'm going to use it. I presume you didn't have this in mind when you requested me, so please go ahead and withdraw your interest so you can start looking for the trooper that can do what you want."

She stopped and only then noticed her heart thumping in her chest. Perhaps she had overdone it ever so slightly.

For several seconds neither of them spoke. The sun had moved on by now and she could see him more clearly. The officer straightened his back.
"No," he said at last. "That won't be necessary. I have found exactly what I was looking for."

"Excuse me?" She must have misunderstood him.

"I would like you to join my trooper contingent, Commander Melun," He said, his voice now firm. "I have need of your special talents. But I am warning you. My methods are somewhat... unorthodox. Which you have had the opportunity to observe." The last was said with obvious humor in his voice and at last he turned around, facing her for the first time.

He cocked his head slightly and he wore a half-smile, but what she noticed most - what everyone who met him must notice - were his skin and his eyes.

And suddenly it clicked.
"You're the cleaner!" She exclaimed, and blushed.
"I mean... that was you, wasn't it? At the museum... Sir"

He inclined his head.
"It was. Given the Coruscant Museum of Art's attitude towards non-humans it seemed the easiest way for me to get a private viewing."

"But you're a Commodore." She had noticed his rank badge of course.
"Surely an exception would have been made. The guest list was full of Navy personnel."

“I was a Commander then,” he corrected her. “But I suppose I could have insisted on being included,” he sighed, looking down at the floor. “And spent the entire evening in the company of my fellow officers."

She remembered some of the comments she had overheard on that night and understood.
"You really were interested in the art, weren't you, And those Admirals, Moffs and the like wouldn't have let you view them in peace."

A memory came to her.
"They mentioned someone. An alien commander who was keen on art. They made fun of him. That's you, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Yes. I do have that reputation. You on the other hand allowed the lowly alien to stay and admire the exhibition.”
His eyes gleamed briefly and she wondered what it meant. Humor?

He continued. “While I was on duty that night I, like you, used the opportunity to observe. From my position at the edge of the hall I had noticed that you seemed to be much more interested in following the conversations than any of the other guards. I am familiar with the ISB’s methods. I have had the opportunity to assist Colonel Yularen on a few occasions.”

She couldn’t help raising her eyebrows. Just who was this alien officer? And what did he want with her?

“I had wondered whether you had been placed there to spy on some of the more illustrious guests,” the Commodore continued. “For a moment I even wondered whether you knew who I was. But you didn’t of course. I had already decided to look you up out of interest but then you then gave me another, more powerful reason to do so."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Because I let you look at art?”

“Precisely. Both in your identity as museum guard and in your - I assumed - real capacity as ISB operative you really should have ejected me. But you didn’t. I found that curious.” His eyes gleamed again.

She frowned.
“Your work with Colonel Yularen… It wouldn't involve a prior career with the ISB of your own, would it, sir?"

He smiled. "No, but I am observant and as I told you, my methods are unorthodox."

His face turned serious. "I, too, do all in my power to do what is best for the people of the Galaxy and I am not concerned with how that is perceived. My results are never in question. My methods, on the other hand, usually are. I need people that are similarly prepared to do what needs to be done. You, Commander, would be a great asset and if you agree to join me I promise you will get all the action you have wished from your next assignment."

She took a deep breath. Now she understood why that HR Colonel had been so opposed to this. He was cut from the same cloth as those men she had shadowed at the museum back then. He was like them and like all too many others she had encountered since.

The Colonel didn't dislike the request, he disliked the man who had made it.

Well, that made her own decision that much easier.

"Would that assignment also include the odd side trip in disguise?" She asked innocently.

He gave her a thin smile. "I would say that is a mandatory requirement."

She straightened her back and gave him another salute.
"In that case, I accept, Commodore..."

"Thrawn, Commodore Thrawn. Welcome to the Chimaera, Commander."

He held out his hand and Melun took it.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Sir, Grand Admiral, can you hear me?"
Melun's ears were still ringing from the explosion and her voice sounded off.

She grimaced. She was wearing her armor and helmet. Thrawn had neither so he probably hadn’t heard her. He must have a full orchestra in his head right now. And he was not moving.

There was debris everywhere. What had been an empty space station only moments before now resembles a war zone. The explosives the pirates had left behind on their base had been powerful but thankfully not well timed. Melun had had enough time to push Thrawn down so her armor took the brunt of the blast.

She was about to check his pulse when he stirred. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. His eyes were somewhat dimmed and he blinked a few times as if to clear his vision.

Thrawn tried to get up but she gently forced him to remain where he was.
"Easy now, sir. Let the medic check you over first," she said.

Thrawn frowned and pointed to one of his ears.
"I can't hear you," he shouted and then stopped. He closed his eyes and dropped his head back on the ground, a frustrated expression on his face.

She inspected his temples and sure enough there was blood seeping out of both his ears. Burst eardrums. No surprise given the force of the blast.

With a practiced eye she checked him for further injuries. Given all the adrenaline in his system he wouldn't notice anything himself. She felt warm blood at the back of one leg and gingerly moved her fingers over the wounds. The bones seemed fine, probably shrapnel damage.

She applied a tourniquet to stop the bleeding and continued, but apart from a few scrapes and bruises he seemed relatively ok.

Lucky. Very lucky. She would have words with him - once he could hear her again of course.

Now that the danger was over she allowed herself a smile. She had wanted action from her next assignment. And boy had she got it.

The years with Thrawn’s forces had been... interesting. Unorthodox he had said. Sheer lunacy would have been more accurate. Except that he always seemed to know exactly what he was doing, even if nobody else did.

As she stepped aside to let the Chimaera's medical team take care of Thrawn she felt his hand grasp hers briefly.

She looked down and he gave her a brief nod.
"Thank you," he mouthed.

She quickly pulled out her datapad and began to type.
"Just make sure you get well quickly. I can't wait what crazy mission you have in mind for me next."

He raised his eyebrows in mock innocence and gave her a wave as he was carried towards the shuttle.

That very morning, she had received an official notification from Command. They wanted to promote her to Major and take her off Chimaera for a new assignment befitting her promotion.

She had been pleased with the recognition of course but not sure if she really wanted to leave.

Major Melun. Who would have thought?

But Major Melun would have to do a lot more paperwork. And see much less action. And there would be no more off-the-record side missions with the Empire's most singular Grand Admiral.

She huffed. Yeah, Major Melun sounded great.

But Commander Melun sounded just right. And really, that man needed looking after and she didn’t think she could leave it all to Commodore Faro. The poor woman had enough on her plate already.