grandadmiralartcritic | AU-verse post-mission with Thrawn and Hera

AU-verse post-mission with Thrawn and Hera

As first engagements go, Thrawn has definitely experienced worse. Enemy routed, casualties comparatively minimal, and the damaged ships, at least, should be easily repairable.

The lost soldiers, however . . . that is a different story.

He strides along the slightly scorched corridor of the flagship, keeping a weather eye on the morale of the troops -- as well as their stress response and repair efficiency.

Many things will depend on it.

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"Then you can feel baffled."

She steps through the door, out onto the flight deck. By now the most injured pilots have already been taken to medical. A few with bruising or small scrapes still linger by their fighters, as mechanics run back and forth to survey and relay the damage. A red astromech rolls up to Hera and Thrawn as they enter, swiveling her sensor array between them and beeping.

"All right, let's see it," Hera says.

Thrawn scans the flight deck briefly, then unhooks his datapad from his belt and begins pulling up the spare parts manifest for the fleet.

"I'll follow you," he says, to the both of them.

"Do let me know if I should be fetching the toolkit."

The droid leads them to a wall panel where two more droids, a human mechanic, and Rodian lieutenant are crowded around. The droids are welding frayed patches of the panel, the mechanic sorting through her own toolkit, and the lieutenant reading his own datapad.

He looks up as they approach, straightening at once, large eyes fixing on Hera. "General."

"Lieutenant Gola," Hera turns her eyes to a cascade of sparks that fly from one of the droid's arms. "How does it look?"

"It could be worse," Gola says, reaching up to rub at a smear of soot across his forehead "We've got all the replacement parts on hand, and most of the wiring isn't too beaten up. It'll take time to finish it up well, but if we need to get moving we can get something workable patched together."

The lieutenant makes every effort not to look toward Thrawn, but his gaze creeps in that direction once or twice before being forcibly redirected to the General.

Thrawn merely watches, saying nothing.

Edited 2017-10-07 18:53 (UTC)

"Will that get patched together before we come out of our first jump?"

The lieutenant turns to the mechanic, who looks up from her tools. "I don't know about that."

"Is that a yes or a no?" Hera asks. It's not sharp, but the mechanic blinks away, and turns back to the panel.

"Some of these replacements will take a while to install. If I can make it work without them for now, we could get something up sooner."

Hera turns to Thrawn. "Any suggestions?"

Thrawn takes a few steps forward, leaning over to look at the panel, red eyes narrowing as he studies the frayed wires and the smoking pieces of two power converters, a transistor, and several decouplers.

Then he looks back at his datapad, scrolling down and highlighting a few parts that are none of those.

He looks up.

"There are a few substitute parts that are much faster to install, but also much less stable. The connections tend to degrade after a day or two, and we'll have to replace them in our stores. However, if we need comms up and running before we come out of hyperspace, it's the most certain way I know of achieving that."

The lieutenant and mechanic both step out of Thrawn's path at once. Only the droids stay in place.

"It might not matter," Hera answers. "But in case we run anyone on the way back to base, I'd rather know we can coordinate down here."

Thrawn purses his lips, thinking this over while looking to the mechanic and the lieutenant.

"I can send my notations to your datapads, if you like, as you're both doubtless well capable of doing the installation yourselves. The wiring connections are not particularly difficult, nor are they non-standard. Though I'm happy to lend my hands to the task, if you prefer."

This last has him looking to General Syndulla, much as the rest of them are. It seems . . . appropriate.

Hera waits, to see if either will answer. Then, she sighs.

"Go ahead," she says to Thrawn. Turning to the lieutenant, "Send someone if it looks like we won't have comms before we come out of the jump."

"Understood, General," Thrawn says smoothly, turning to the droid that came to get them and speaking quietly.

"Would you mind bringing the parts I've indicated here?"

He taps his datapad's display, giving the droid a few moments to read it over. This seems far less fraught than asking any of the organic crew to assist him, given the givens.

The droid rolls close to Thrawn, senors scanning the datapad before she beeps an affirmative and rolls off.

Hera takes a deep breath, and then, to the mechanic, "Kaia, why don't you look the Commander's notes?"

Again, her voice isn't sharp, but it's clear she won't tolerate any argument over this.

"I would be glad to share them, certainly," Thrawn says coolly.

(Warmth is beyond him, even in facsimile.)

"And if someone would hand me a soldering iron, I can get to work preparing the panel."

“No,” Hera shakes her head. “I need you to come with me to medical.”

She looks to the mechanic again, “Ask whatever you need, and then we’ll go.”

"I see."

His voice remains cool, even as he starts sending documentation to Kaia's datapad.

"I've attached a few schematics, and there's a particular solder alloy that several engineers of my acquaintance found works best. Use the same techniques that you use when repairing a burst thermocouple, and you should be well on your way."

Kaia opens her mouth to speak, gets a little pale, and then nods.

"That sounds -- we can do that."

She gives General Syndulla a look, halfway between helpless and questioning.

"Um. If we need to substitute a mark 5 replacement instead of the one you've indicated, do we attach them all in series? It seems like it would overload the system, but -- "

Hera doesn’t speak. But she meets Kaia’s eyes, and nods, just slightly.

Then she turns back to Thrawn, eyebrows raised, also expecting an answer.

Thrawn is silent for a few moments, scrolling through the lists on his datapad again. That one seems a likely secondary substitute, and that one, and . . .

He looks up after a moment, nodding once, sharply.

"The most likely decoupler substitutes should be attached in parallel, but series for the rest will be fine with a three day window. After that the connections are likely to degrade enough to spark, which would end badly."

As everyone here knows.

“You can shield the decouplers with a two centimeter wrap of bonding tape,” Hera says, looking back to Kaia. “That should be thin enough to complete the install, but contain them if they degrade faster than we anticipate.”

Thrawn's smile is thin-lipped.

"And the smell of the burning adhesive will be fairly unmistakable early enough in the process to be repaired again before it gets any worse."

Not that Thrawn used bonding tape on the power packs he turned into bombs, back on that nameless planet so long ago.

(But maybe he did.)

"How does that sound?"

Kaia again glances between between them, before locking eyes on Hera. "Ye - yes, we can do that."

She nods to Hera and then, very quick and without really looking at him, does the same to Thrawn. The lieutenant stares as she returns to the droids, but Hera turns away, waving to Thrawn to move with her.

Thrawn's smile is gone long before Hera starts to move away.

"I suppose making them uncomfortable was unavoidable."

"They'll have to get used to it."

Hera doesn't need nor want this crew to become friendly with Thrawn. But they would have to speak to him. There was no avoiding it.

"It is regrettably unlikely to be a short campaign," Thrawn agrees.

They exit the hangar, stepping through the blast doors into the corridor again.

"And you might have to get used to their discomfort."

Thrawn clasps his hands behind his back again, falling into step with the General.

"It comes as no surprise to me. But I have yet to be attacked while going about my business, which says much for your command."

Unlike, for example, any part of the Imperial machine -- including the academies.

“We don’t usually attack our own.”

But it was something that had crossed Hera’s mind. Many in the Resistance were too young to have clear memories of the first war, but she knew this crew had been vetted to avoid anyone with any personal reason to hate Thrawn.

Other than the person in charge of it, she supposes.

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