Cold Embrace - A Star Wars Fan Fiction

Prologue

The alien was brought before them. An alien to us, but a common sight to them. As he walked into the chamber, he could feel them watching him. There must have been a hundred pairs of eyes in that room, and every single one of them looking at him.

The man's hair was long, uncombed, unshaven, his once crystal-white tunic was now stained with blood, sweat and dirt. His sleeves were ripped, with an impressive set of bicep muscles on show, though they remained securely cuffed within the toughest restraints money could buy. There were two armed guards behind him, snipers on every balcony above him, with their distinctive red lasers pointing straight down at his temple. Every possible precaution had been taken to ensure his cooperation, but there was still a sense of fear in the room. This man was unpredictable, cold, calculating. He had probably already figured out ten different ways of escaping should he so desire, it was just a matter of keeping him long enough before he did. This unease among the members of the court was apparent, especially to the man in question. He could see every face looking upon him with disdain, disgust, and above all else, fear.

And yet, in the face of all this, he held his head high. Even when he was forced to the ground at gunpoint, he showed no sign of weakness or regret, he just met all their cold glances with his own, piercing through their eyes like a demon, staring into their souls.

The judge spoke first. He spoke in a deep, booming register, demanding a sense of authority and respect.

"Do you know why you are here?" he asked.

There was a moment of silence, before the man, now kneeling in the very centre of the courtroom, responded.

"Yes," he responded in a low monotone.
"Then you already know what I have to say?" the judge questioned.

This time, there was an even longer pause.

"Yes," he replied in an equally monotonous voice.

The judge grew impatient. He moved in for the kill.

"Then you are fully aware of the severity of the situation? Of your f-"

"I am quite aware!" the defendant interrupted, suddenly raising his voice, yet without losing its subtle, unnerving quality, "And for your sake I suggest you spare me the formalities! We all know the situation, we all know the ramifications!"

The judge let out a smug chuckle.

"And you are also quite aware that this is all a result of YOUR FAILURE!?" he boomed.

The man rose to his feet, outraged. Immediately two A280C blaster rifles were pressed against his back, but he did not return to the floor. The threat appeared nothing to him. They could quite easily have shot him right then and there, but that would only double their problems. Seeing this behaviour, the judge gestured, and the guards stood down.

"'My failure'?" he mimicked. "I have given my life to this council, to this planet, and to its people! Everything I have done over the last decade has been for you, and you alone!" he protested.

"And yet, in the end it all came to naught," the judge mocked, twisting the knife.

At this, a remark that was clearly an attempt to anger the prisoner, the man simply smirked.

"Not quite," he began. "My time away may have damaged us, but is has also provided me with the time to reevaluate, regather my strength, my forces, and prepare," he said ominously.

"Prepare for what?" the judge inquired hesitantly.

"My revenge," he stated bluntly. "The time has finally come to exact my vengeance on those who wronged me, those who wronged us. The new order that has risen to take the place of the Empire, the New Republic, they are the physical enshrinement of Jedi pacifism, and cowardice. They lack the stomach for war, or the strength to defend our home from the coming darkness. It is time to take matters into our own hands. I will tear down the New Republic, planet by planet, until the light of the Jedi is extinguished from the universe. Then, we will assert military dominance, and take our rightful place in the galaxy."

The judge smiled. He once again gestured, and this time the guards walked up to the man and removed his handcuffs.

"Very well then, Grand Admiral Thrawn," he concluded. "You may begin,"

Grand Admiral Thrawn. It was a title he had not heard in a long time, yet hearing it spoken again brought a confident smirk to the Chiss' face. His eyes burned bright red, reflecting off his pale blue skin. Soon, the galaxy would remember his name, and once again fear it.