Recovery

Later that day, Astra was released to her quarters, though not without Dr. Varnic’s reluctant approval. He had made it clear that she was to rest and wouldn’t be cleared for duty unless an emergency arose—and even then, only if Thrawn himself deemed it unavoidable.

Inside her room, Astra sat curled up on her bunk, a datapad resting on her lap. Her quarters were modest, but a few personal touches stood out: a carefully folded blanket from her childhood, a small holo of her parents, and Sol, her cat-like droid, purring softly beside her. She traced absent patterns along Sol’s metallic frame, her thoughts drifting when the door slid open with a soft hiss.

She didn’t need to look up to know who it was. “Here to lecture me?” she asked, a faint teasing note in her otherwise tired voice. She set the datapad aside and glanced up, her bright blue eyes meeting Thrawn’s glowing crimson ones.

Thrawn stepped inside, his posture as composed as ever, his hands folded neatly behind his back. “No, Astra. I’m here to listen,” he said. “I want to understand what happened—from your perspective.”

Astra blinked in surprise, then smiled faintly. She had known Thrawn her entire life, and while his calm demeanor rarely wavered, she could sense the subtle concern behind his words. For as long as she could remember, she had admired his strength, his intellect, and his unwavering control. He had been a constant in her life when everything else seemed uncertain—a guardian, a teacher, and at times, the closest thing she had to family.

Taking a deep breath, she began. “I felt the spell coming on the jump before the last one,” she admitted, her voice soft. “But there’s always something to do—lessons with you, reports, my other duties. I thought I could push through it like we’re taught to. Then the next jump came, and I didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until it was too late.”

Thrawn remained silent, his crimson gaze fixed on her, and Astra felt the familiar pressure of his scrutiny. It wasn’t harsh, but it was thorough, as if he could dissect her words and uncover layers of meaning she wasn’t even aware of.

“I know what they teach us,” she added, looking down at her hands. “Push through. Focus on the mission. Don’t let anyone down.”

Thrawn nodded slowly. He was well aware of the conditioning Skywalkers endured—the constant demand for perfection, the subtle implication that their value was tied entirely to their ability to serve. “Yes, I know,” he said, his voice measured. “But Astra, you frightened everyone on that bridge today. Myself included.”

Her head shot up at that, her eyes widening. Thrawn rarely admitted to personal feelings, and the thought that she had caused him concern twisted her stomach. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to—”

He raised a hand, cutting her off gently. “I do not seek an apology, only a promise. You must be more careful. Overexerting yourself serves no one—not the Chimaera, not the Ascendancy, and not me.”

Astra’s chest tightened at his words. The idea of failing him, of losing the respect of the person she admired most, was unbearable. “I wasn’t trying to let anyone down,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Least of all you.”

Thrawn’s expression softened ever so slightly. He stepped closer, studying her with a rare hint of warmth in his gaze. “I know, Astra. Your dedication has always been one of your greatest strengths. But it must not come at the cost of your well-being. You are… invaluable. Not just to the Ascendancy, but to me.”

Her breath hitched at the unexpected sentiment, and for a moment, the weight of her exhaustion and guilt felt lighter. “I’ll try,” she promised, her voice steadying. “I’ll do better.”

Thrawn inclined his head. “That is all I ask.” His gaze flicked to Sol, who chirped and stretched its small metallic limbs as if sensing the shift in the room. “Your companion seems adept at ensuring you rest. Perhaps I should leave that responsibility to it.”

Astra let out a small laugh, the first in what felt like days. “Sol’s been very vocal about it. Lots of disapproving beeps earlier.”

“Then it seems I am not alone in my concerns,” Thrawn said, his tone lightening ever so slightly. “But know this, Astra: I rely on you, not just as a navigator, but as a part of this crew. As a part of my team. Your strength lies not just in your abilities, but in your resilience and your willingness to learn. Don’t let exhaustion rob you of that.”

She nodded, her heart swelling at his words. “Thank you, sir,” she said softly.

Thrawn turned to leave, pausing at the door. “Rest well, Astra. I’ll need you at your best soon enough.”

As the door slid shut behind him, Astra leaned back against her pillows, her fingers idly stroking Sol’s head. For all his sharp intellect and seemingly unshakable exterior, Thrawn had always known how to reach her—how to make her feel seen, valued. And in that moment, she resolved to never let him down again.