“A weapon is neither impressive nor concerning merely because it is large. Its value depends upon whether its capabilities justify the resources consumed in creating it.”
He stepped nearer the desk.
“So let us begin with what brought you here.”
A pause.
Thrawn remained still as she spoke.
No surprise crossed his features when she confirmed it was a weapon.
Nor when she described its scale.
Only that quiet, analytical attention.
“A mobile battle station.”
He repeated the words once, considering them.
Morgan swallows, still unsure of where she stands. So she decides to take it slow.
"I was simply thinking about confirming what you already seem to have surmised for yourself. Yes, it is a weapon that uses vast amounts of kyber. -
“I suspect you will.”
His eyes returned to Eve.
Then, more softly. . .
“You said you can relax here.”
Thrawn considered them.
“That is not a function I assigned you.”
Another almost-smile.
“So I suggest you stop attempting to justify it as one.”
“I selected you because your conclusions arrive through pathways mine often do not.”
His eyes flicked toward the figurine.
“You saw grief where I initially saw cultural mutilation.”
A pause.
Thrawn’s attention shifted toward the case containing Eve’s lightsabers, the crystals still singing faintly behind glass.
“And you may continue to object to what my work accomplishes.”
There was the smallest upward movement at one corner of his mouth.
“And, occasionally, you dislike me for being able to make that abstraction.”
There was the faintest trace of amusement there.
“I did not bring you here because I required admiration.”
The Empire possessed enough of that.
Thrawn listened.
Not merely to the words.
The pauses between them.
The places Eve’s voice tightened.
The tremor in their hands that had made them reconsider holding the statuette,
though they had ultimately judged keeping it secure to be the lesser risk.
in the quiet, eve can hear their own heartbeat, slow and steady. it’s a familiar sound, one they know better than any other, save for the song of their kyber crystals, locked in the case with their lightsabers on the left-hand wall.
even now, behind the glass, they sing, the --
“You dislike my conferences because you anticipate the casualties beneath the language.”
His gaze drifted toward the artifacts.
“You dislike strategy when the abstraction becomes too distant from the individual who will suffer its consequence.”
Then back.
“The reports from Nur documented pain responses, resistance, neurological alteration, possible applications.”
His mouth tightened almost imperceptibly.
“They were considerably less useful in describing Eve.”
So he had observed.
“When I first reviewed your file, I was interested in what had been done to you.”
A beat.
“After meeting you, I became interested in what had not.”
The distinction was deliberate.
“But they were not sufficient.”
His gaze narrowed slightly, thoughtful rather than severe.
“The Empire contains individuals with unusual abilities. Some more powerful than yours.”
If raw capability had been his only concern, there had been alternatives.
“You possess missing sections.”
His eyes lifted.
“Not an empty foundation.”
Thrawn allowed the silence to settle before continuing.
“You are also mistaken about why I selected you.”
His voice remained even.
“Your abilities were relevant. They remain relevant.”
A pause.