An overheard argument

The corridor outside the conference room was quiet, save for the faint murmur of voices slipping through the door’s seams. Astra had been on her way to discuss her revised schedule with Dr. Varnic, but when she heard her name spoken in Thrawn’s unmistakable voice, she froze.

Her first instinct was to turn away—eavesdropping wasn’t something she made a habit of—but curiosity anchored her in place. Slowly, cautiously, she moved closer, her sharp ears catching the clipped tones of a debate that was, unmistakably, about her.

“She’s reaching her limit, and if she pushes any further, it will end in disaster,” Varnic was saying, his frustration palpable even through the muffling effect of the door.

“She is stronger than you give her credit for,” Thrawn countered, his voice cool and deliberate, like a blade honed to precision. “Growth does not come from coddling. It comes from adversity. Astra must learn to overcome these challenges on her own.”

Astra’s stomach twisted as she leaned against the wall beside the door. Coddling? The word stung, even if it wasn’t directed at her. She pressed her palms flat against the cold surface behind her, fighting the urge to storm in.

Varnic’s voice rose slightly, tinged with exasperation. “Adversity is one thing, but this isn’t a battlefield, Thrawn. She’s not a soldier to be commanded. She’s—” He hesitated, as if searching for the right word. “She’s a person, and she’s already under immense pressure. If you keep demanding more from her without giving her room to breathe, you’ll lose her.”

Astra’s chest tightened. Lose me? She didn’t know if he meant physically or emotionally, but both implications unsettled her.

Thrawn’s reply was measured, his tone unyielding. “You underestimate her resolve. Astra has always risen to the challenges placed before her. To shield her from hardship now would undermine her potential. She does not need to be handled delicately, Doctor. She needs to be guided.”

Astra clenched her fists, the weight of their words pressing down on her. Part of her wanted to agree with Varnic, to let someone else take the burden for once. But another part—the stubborn part—felt an almost desperate need to prove Thrawn right. She had risen to every challenge before; why should this time be any different?

And yet… Do I really want to live my entire life as someone else’s project?

Her gaze dropped to the floor, her mind racing. For so long, she had measured her worth by what others expected of her—Thrawn’s approval, the Ascendancy’s demands, even the unspoken pride of the Mith family. But when had she last stopped to consider what she wanted?

The voices inside the room grew softer, but Astra had heard enough. Taking a deep breath, she straightened and stepped forward. The door hissed open, drawing both men’s attention as she walked in.

Thrawn stood at the head of the table, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly as they met hers. Varnic, seated with his datapad in hand, looked visibly startled.

“Well,” Astra said, folding her arms, her voice carrying a sharp edge, “this is enlightening. Should I sit down and let you both continue deciding my future, or can I say something?”

Varnic’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Thrawn, on the other hand, inclined his head slightly, a faint glimmer of intrigue in his expression. “The floor is yours, Astra.”

She took a step closer, her gaze darting between the two men. “I overheard enough to know you both care about me, but you’re also both wrong in your own ways.”

Varnic started to protest, but she cut him off. “I’m not fragile, Doctor. I don’t want to be treated like I’m going to break every time things get hard.” Her eyes flicked to Thrawn. “But I’m not some puzzle to solve, either. I’m not just here to meet expectations or prove how strong I can be.”

Thrawn’s expression didn’t shift, but she thought she saw a flicker of something—approval?—in his gaze.

“I know I need to find balance,” Astra continued, her voice steadying. “And I’ve started to figure out what that looks like for me. But it’s going to take time, and I need both of you to trust me enough to find my own way. I’ll make mistakes, but I need them to be my mistakes.”

Varnic nodded slowly, his features softening. “If that’s what you need, Astra, I’ll support you. But promise me you’ll come to me if you’re struggling.”

“I will,” she said. Then she turned to Thrawn, her tone firmer. “And you… you don’t have to stop challenging me. I need that, too. But I need to know you see me as more than just what I can do for the Ascendancy. Do you?”

Thrawn regarded her for a long moment before speaking, his voice quiet but clear. “You are far more than your role, Astra. And I will endeavor to ensure you never feel otherwise.”

The tension in her chest eased, and for the first time in days, Astra felt like she could breathe again.