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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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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.

Her pace is steady, consciously so, as if to stop herself from leaving him behind.

"There's the lounge down below."

This isn't really a 'lounge' so much as an empty storage space where some of the crew trade and play Sabbac.

Edited 2017-10-14 17:22 (UTC)

Thrawn considers this for a moment, one eyebrow lifted.

"Their off-duty time does seem a better opportunity than most. And perhaps it is less intrusive than visiting crew quarters."

"That is what I was thinking."

It doesn't, however, seem to be the direction she's heading in now.

"Was?"

His eyebrow arches up a little higher.

"Are you thinking something different now?"

Given that they are not heading to the 'lounge', as it were. Or if they are, they are taking a very roundabout route.

"We're going to do something else first."

Instead, she turns into a stairwell, and heads up.

"I hope you do not mind if I refrain from playing guessing games."

Not that he has thus far, but. Lines must be drawn.

(Though he is very definitely curious. And perhaps a bit on guard.)

"No, you're free to just follow me."

She exits the stairwell after one flight up, and as she turns into the corridor, the only place she could likely be heading is the bridge.

"As you will."

He falls silent then, and remains blessedly silent all the way to the bridge.

Whatever can her purpose be? He is very interested, even still, in finding out.

A few minutes later, they step through the doors onto the bridge. The officers on-duty look up when Hera enters, but she stops at the door way, and immediately gestures for them to return to their work.

Then she turns back to Thrawn. "You can wait here, if you want."

If he wants. Hmmm. Perhaps if he had more information . . .

"Is that a requirement?"

"No."

But she doesn't wait for him to make up his mind, already stepping out to cross the bridge.

He follows.

Because to wait is to admit to discomfort or uncertainty, and he is not about to do that.

Hera nods to Captain Sorotai as they pass her, but she still doesn't stop. Instead, she keeps walking until they've reached one of the navigation consoles on the far side of the bridge, where a Twi'lek officer is sitting at the controls. Hera takes the empty chair next to them.

"How are you, lieutenant?"

The officer looks up, gold eyes flickering to Hera, and then, briefly, to Thrawn. "I've been plotting out our possible course trajectories, assuming we're sent back to the Horsel System. Has there been a change?"

Hera shakes her head. "Your shift ends in about two hours, right?"

The lieutenant glances to Thrawn again, but then back to Hera. "I - yes, it does."

Hera never looks away from them. "Do you think you could talk to Daska and Zofi then? Bring in some of the lower crew? I think they could use it."

The lieutenant's eyes widen a little in surprise, but they quickly smile. Still, theirs flicker once more to Thrawn. "Zeulon jaitare ne."

Hera laughs, rising from the chair and resting her hand on the lieutenant's shoulder. "Kalmio."

And then, Hera starts back toward the doors.

Thrawn nods to the lieutenant, then turns sharply and follows Hera away.

That was -- perhaps some would have found that enlightening. Thrawn merely fits it in as another part of a puzzle.

"Will you need to repeat this exercise, General? Or is the lieutenant sufficently tied into the crew's network to know how to reach all who might be, shall we say, uneasy?"