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The room is nearly bare – there's a light, and a cot, and a refresher down the hall. Nothing about it suggested any importance to its occupant, other than that she had the room to herself. It wasn't meant to be anything more than minimally livable, and Hera doesn't mind. It makes things easier. Her pack is left in a corner. When she finally had the chance, she'd climbed into her cot, and slept for a few hours.

Since waking, Hera had checked in with the bridge officers, and then visited the refresher. She's in a fresh uniform, but climbed back on her cot. Rather than lie down again, Hera sits, crossing her legs and resting her hands over her knees. She bows her head, closes her eyes, and listens. At first to the empty silence of her cabin, but then, slowly, the footsteps in the hall beyond her door, the vibrations along the walls, the voices from the other cabins. Sometimes she imagines she can hear the hum of the ship itself, ebbing and flowing like a roaring heartbeat.

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Thrawn, too, hears the rumbling hum of the ship, the sound bizarrely comforting in lieu of the prison's lack.

He stops in front of Hera Syndulla's door, allowing himself one moment of hesitation before buzzing in a request for entry.

"Commander Thrawn reporting, General."

Hera opens her eyes, but doesn't move.

"Come in."

That, among everything else here, is at least unambiguous.

For now.

He steps through the immediately-opening door, hands clasped once more behind his back.

The door closes behind him.

"Have we run into difficulties, General?"

"Captain Sorotai reported that the shields and comms repairs continuing as expected. The weapons systems are being recharged and the fuel lines checked for damage."

She raises her head to look up at him. "Is there anything else to report?"

"Some post-battle fatigue from the newer recruits and ensigns. I would attempt to handle that, but I somehow do not believe I will be very effective at it."

History has seen very well to that, not to mention his own personality and inclinations.

"Aside from that, nothing I can think of."

Hera uncrosses her legs, lowering her feet to the floor.

"I guess that leaves post-battle fatigue to me."

She knows he's right, and that there's nothing he can do about it. But she's still going to say it.

Edited 2017-10-12 20:17 (UTC)

"Unless you would prefer to obtain a second Commander, but that might provide more complications than solutions."

He keeps his hands clasped lightly behind him, back straight -- not quite parade rest, but definitely not at ease. Not in the slightest.

"I have what I need."

Though more often than she has in years, Hera misses sharing command with someone who could support her emotionally.

She puts her hands on the edge of the cot, leaning forward and lowering her head again. "But maybe you could come this time."

Edited 2017-10-13 00:27 (UTC)

Thrawn's eyebrows arch upward in surprise.

"There will likely be a long-term benefit to my presence for such things, yes. Short-term I am . . . unsure how this will offset your usual benefit to crew morale."

To put it semi-bluntly.

She lifts her head to meet his eyes again.

"I'm hoping we have a long-term."

"Hope all you like," Thrawn says.

"It is our actions that will assure it. Or not."

Hera sighs.

"Then maybe I think you could learn something."

He quirks one eyebrow, voice gone just a little dry.

"Is that something you're hoping for, as well?"

Also rather dry -

"I can hope all I like."

His chuckle is as dry as his voice.

"Of course."

Hera lifts her hand, rubbing at her forehead.

"I'm guessing the Empire didn't expect this kind of thing from you."

"The Empire preferred its officers to inspire by way of fear or, on rare occasions, simple competence."

Competence happened much more rarely than fear. Shockingly.

"Well, I won't be summarily executing my officers."

She lowers her hands again, folding them between her knees. "But I can always try competence."

"Of that, General, I have very little doubt."

Warmth and competence remains a strange combination to Thrawn, but Hera makes it work. Or at least, she has so far.

"And it can't hurt you to see another option."

Thrawn inclines his head in a slight not.

"It is remarkably unlikely to cause pain, that is true."

A pause.

"Shall we, then?"

Hera unfolds her hands, resting them on her knees and standing from her cot.

"All right."

Thrawn moves away from the door, just enough so that Hera can pass, and then a little more.

"I am not entirely certain where the most . . . advantageous place to speak to the ensigns might be. I presume not in the mess?"

Hera first takes a brown jacket from a hook by her door, pulling it over her shoulders, before she proceeds to exit into the hall.

"I have some ideas."

"There's much to be said about a multiplicity of options."

His voice remains dry, even as he follows Hera out into the hall.

This time, he leaves his arms swinging freely at his side. Just in case their pace is brisk.