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[three months ago, Planet Ool, Ardok Ranch]
“Thalias?” Che’ri asked quietly, her eyes wide with worry.
Thalias checked her chrono: 2:34 am. “What is it, Che’ri?”
The girl sniffled, wiping her eyes on her sleeves. “I need to talk to Senior Captain Samakro or Admiral Ar’alani.”
“At two thirty?”
She nodded. “It’s about Senior Captain Thrawn.”
Thalias swallowed, all the sleep suddenly gone from her mind. “What is it?”
“He’s allergic to stingflies.”
“Wait, what?” Thalias asked, suddenly confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Che’ri swallowed, wiping at unshed tears again. “He’s leaving tomorrow, and they need to make sure he has medication for it.”
Thalias pulled her into a hug. She hadn’t wanted Che’ri to know what had happened to Thrawn, what the Syndicure had done to him after all he had given up, but Che’ri had figured out pretty quickly that something was wrong. “I’m sure it’s in his file, Che’ri. It’ll be all right.”
She shook her head. “It’s a secret. I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”
“Why is it a secret?”
Che’ri sniffed again, burying her face in Thalias’s chest. “Senior Captain Thrawn said they’d kick him out if anyone found out.”
Thalias felt her heart sink. That was only true of the most severe allergies, the ones that couldn’t be treated or cured and had life-threatening symptoms.
“Maybe you should start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”
[two years ago, Chiss ship in orbit above Mokivj]
It was over. Senior Captain Thrawn’s adventure with the humans was over, and they were going home. The mission had been a success, they had retrieved the shield generator and Che’ri had both learned how to fly and successfully avoided doing her schoolwork for several weeks. She watched as Thrawn went through the pre-flight checks, explaining what he was doing and comparing it to how it worked on the Springhawk and other larger ships.
“Senior Captain?” Che’ri asked suddenly, noticing purple welts that seemed to be spreading across the back of his hands, “Are you okay?”
Thrawn frowned, following her gaze to the backs of his hands. “It appears I am not.”
“Senior Captain?” She squeaked out, suddenly worried. Was he sick? Were they both going to get sick from some sort of Lesser Space disease? Were they going to die????
“Che’ri,” Thrawn said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I need your assistance.”
She swallowed hard, setting her shoulders back. “What do you need?”
“I’ve been bitten by a stingfly,” he seemed to wheeze a little as he spoke, and Che’ri had to force down her worries. “I’m very allergic to them, so I need your help with my medication.”
“But I’m not a doctor!” Che’ri felt her hands start to shake. “What if I hurt you more?”
Thrawn smiled at her despite the wheezing. “You won’t.”
Taking a deep breath like Thalias had shown her, she nodded. “What do you need?”
“In my survival bag. Long canister, blue and orange ends.”
“This one?” She asked, holding it up.
He nodded, breathless. “Swing it towards my leg, orange side down. Keep it upright and hold it for a count of ten.”
Che’ri held her breath as she followed his instructions, hearing the soft “click” as the device activated. It took a few moments, but Thrawn seemed to relax, breathing a little easier.
“Well done,” he said with a small smile. “Thank you.”
“Is that it?” Che’ri asked, looking down at the canister in her hands.
“For now. If I start to get ill again, you might have to do it again.” He pushed himself up into a seated position. “There are two more in the bag, plus other medication just in case.”
She nodded. “And you’re okay now?”
“I am.” He smiled again, then grew serious. “But you must not tell anyone about this. It stays between us, okay?”
“Why?”
Thrawn looked almost sad when he spoke again. “I won’t be allowed to stay on the Springhawk or in the fleet anymore.”
“Oh.”
“And I have duties I still need to fulfill.”
Che’ri nodded, holding out her pinky finger. “I swear I won’t tell.”
[Now, Exile Planet, Wild Space]
Thrawn hadn’t noticed the stingfly bite, not until he had returned to his dwelling and saw the hives dotting up and down his arms. Of all the things that could have killed him, he thought bitterly, it would be the humble stingfly to bring him down. The stingfly, and his own arrogance. He should have told someone, Admiral Ar’alani at least, that he would need Epi’pens in his first aid kit. It was not like they could discharge him twice, after all. After everything, a stingfly allergy was hardly a blip of the scanner of things he had done.
He stared up at the ceiling of the hut, feeling his throat swell, and wondered vaguely how long it would take the Empire to find his corpse. Soon, he predicted, since they had picked this planet based on the outer patrol routes. He shifted, trying in vain to ease his discomfort, and that’s when he spotted it: an orange capped canister sticking out of a survival pack.
Ten minutes and one Epi’pen later, Thrawn opened up the rest of the survival pack to find several more canisters, plus a hand-written note:
Sky-walker Che’ri apologizes for breaking her promise, but she wanted to make sure you had these.
You idiot.
- Ar’alani